Phoenix (19 page)

It feels like forever before he slowly pushes into me. My channel has
tightened in the days we haven’t been together, and the tightness is exquisite.
His thickness opens me up, sliding against my walls. I’m so wet I can feel it dripping
down my thighs. It’s wrong to be doing this here, in my place of work, yet it
feels so good, so forbidden.

He palms my breast through my light blouse, then carefully opens the buttons
and shoves down my bra. My breasts spill over the top of it and Phoenix bends
his head to suck a nipple into his mouth. He tongues it languidly, pumping his
cock into me hard and fast now. The table bangs against the closet wall but I’m
too far gone to care about the noise at this point. I just want to feel him. I
just want a release.

A gasp tumbles from my mouth as he gives me a really hard thrust, hitting
something deep inside of me.

“You like that?” he asks, his voice nothing but gravel.

“Yes,” I whimper. “Don’t stop.”

He takes my lips then, his tongue sliding roughly along mine, tangling
with it, seducing it. It feels like he’s fucking my mouth and me at the same
time.

“You feel so good,” he rumbles. “You’re dripping wet.”

“It’s your fault,” I answer with a smile. I can’t see his face properly,
but I can sense that he’s smiling too.

His hands travel over my hips to my backside where he fondles each of my
cheeks. The closet is filled with the sound of our bodies colliding, skin
slapping against skin. I lean back on the table as his hands return to my
breasts, moulding the flesh and then plucking at my nipples.

“I want to feel you come while I’m in you,” he growls, leaning over me
and tonguing my ear.

His large hand sinks between my legs as he brings his thumb to my clit,
flicking it slowly. My entire body undulates at that first flick, then he
starts circling it. A sharp pleasure begins to rise to the surface, building up
in that one tiny part of me. His cock slides in and out, in and out, quicker
now, oh so quick and hard. His breathing is ragged. Greek words I don’t know the
meaning of tumble from him like a waterfall surging over the edge of a cliff. I’m
on the edge now. He is, too. We’re almost there. I feel so full with him, so
close to the point of erupting.

When I feel him spurting into me, all hot and wet, my orgasm hits. I bury
my face in his neck, moaning quietly and kissing his sweat dampened skin. He
groans, his movements slowing as he drags out the last of his own orgasm. His
thumb slows down and he pulls my face from his neck to kiss me. He bites on my
bottom lip and I gasp.

“Christ, Eve,” he murmurs into my mouth. “You were made for me.”

My hand trails from his neck to his collarbone, dipping under his T-shirt
to caress his skin.

“I love you,” I tell him, looking up shyly from beneath my heavy eyelids.

“Love you, too, my beautiful creature,” he replies while re-adjusting my
bra back into place.

I reach for my handbag and pull out a packet of tissues to clean us up.
Phoenix takes them from me and wipes between my legs. I’m tender when he
touches me there and I can just about make out his grin as a tiny moan escapes
me.

Once we have both fixed our clothes back into place, Phoenix slides his
hand around the back of my neck and pulls me into him for a deep, romantic
kiss. I know that having sex in a storage closet is hardly the epitome of
romance, but it doesn’t matter where I am, so long as I am with him my heart
will always beat faster.

He breaks our kiss then, breathing heavily, and I can feel that he’s
already hard again. Carefully, he opens the door and ducks his head out. The
bell for the next class hasn’t rung yet so the corridor is still empty. He
takes my hand and leads me from the closet.

“I’ll pick you up later,” he tells me, placing a kiss to the inside of my
wrist and then turning to return to the staffroom and his half-finished job on
that broken cupboard.

I stand there and watch him go. Halfway down the corridor he pauses and
turns back, smiling when he sees I’m still standing in the same spot.

“Go or I’ll drag you back into that closet, Eve,” he warns me with a
seductive grin.

“Okay, see you later,” I say sheepishly.

“See you later, darling.”

I turn on my heel and try not to falter at the look of adoration in his
eyes.

When I reach my
classroom I sit down at my desk and check the time: two minutes until the bell
is going to ring. I take some deep breaths to centre myself. I can hardly
believe what I just did. If anyone caught us I’d get fired on the spot. Thank
goodness this is only a small suburban school and they don’t have the
surveillance cameras like the ones in the schools back in Cardiff.

A couple of minutes later, boys are filling the seats in my classroom and
I’m giving instructions for them to open page fifty-three of their textbooks. I
read to them a passage about Henry VIII and then ask questions. The class is
almost over and I’m giving them their homework assignment when I see Phoenix
through the small glass window in the centre of my door. He gives me a heated
stare, smiles and then continues on his way.

Had he been watching me teach?

I feel flushed thinking of it, especially considering what we just did
together.

After school he’s waiting for me at the gates, his truck idling by the
side of the road. I slide into the passenger seat and he speeds off. Biting my
lip, I consider telling him about how I promised Maxwell forty grand cash in
three days’ time. But then I remember how he reacted before, how he’d been
ready to find my brother and beat him senseless, and I hold my tongue.

If he beats him so hard he ends up killing him, Phoenix will go to prison.
I’ve only known him a couple of weeks, but I know I can’t lose him. I wouldn’t
survive it.

I ponder the idea of going to the police and telling them I’m being blackmailed.
But then my stomach sinks as I realise I have no proof. Nobody witnessed my
exchange with Maxwell outside the school the other day, nobody close enough to
hear anyway.

Phoenix’s hand grips my thigh. He glances away from the road for a moment
to quickly study my face. “Are you alright? You look pale.”

For a few brief seconds I consider whether or not to tell him. In the
end, fear wins out and I plaster on a false smile. “I’m fine. Just a little
hungry. It’s been a couple of hours since I ate lunch.”

He seems to accept my explanation and continues on to my cottage. The
next day flies by and before I know it I’m strolling out the school gates,
waving goodbye to teaching and saying hello to my Easter break. Last night I
made a resolution to go to the police, evidence of Maxwell’s blackmail be
damned.

When I reach the station I’m greeted by a portly officer with a kind
smile. He tells me his name is Jim Weston, but that I can call him Wes –
everybody does, according to him. He takes me into a small interview room and I
explain my situation. He listens to it all with an empathetic expression and I
feel my chest lift, thinking he might just be able to help me.

But then my gut sinks when he replies, “I understand your predicament,
Miss Pound, but since you have no proof right now there is no real action I can
take.”

He must see the look of dejection in my eyes when he continues, “However,
if your brother does make any moves to threaten you further, or if he uses
physical force, you need to call the station right away. Furthermore, if he
tries to falsely accuse Mr Smith of an assault it will likely go nowhere,
especially if Mr Smith is innocent. He is an upstanding member of this town and
any accusations coming from a passing stranger will be investigated fully. So
please, don’t worry yourself on that matter. You just make sure to keep safe
and if you are going to meet with your brother in the meantime to discuss
things, make sure to do it in a public place, preferably with a friend in tow.”

I feel a little better after hearing his reassurances. At least now the
police know what Maxwell is planning and they will be highly suspicious of any
charges he tries to press in the future. I chat some more with Officer Weston,
I mean, Wes, and then head home. When Maxwell comes looking for his money on
Monday I will tell him where he can stick his demands. If he tries to accuse
Phoenix of anything I’m sure it will all be dismissed.

The next morning I’m
awoken by three loud knocks on my cottage door. I’m naked in my bed, my limbs
tangled with Phoenix’s. He spent half the night showing me just how insatiable
his appetite for me can be. There is a delicious ache radiating throughout each
and every one of my muscles. His head is resting on the cushion of my breasts
and when I stir he presses a hot mouthed kiss to the centre of my chest.

His hand quickly travels between my legs, stroking tenderly.

“Eve!” comes a cheerful voice through my bedroom window, which I left
open a crack last night. It’s Margaret calling from the doorstep. I’d
completely forgotten about agreeing to help with her stall at the festival.

“Is that Margaret?” Phoenix asks, his voice a low rumble as his tongue licks
a line from the outside curve of my breast to my nipple. I stifle a moan and
try to get out from under him but he holds me in place.

“Ignore her. She’ll leave eventually. I want inside of you,” he murmurs,
his erection probing between my thighs.

Her knocking persists as he braces himself above me and then plunges his
cock inside.

“Jesus,” I quietly cry out.

“Eve, are you awake?” Margaret calls.

Phoenix chuckles low and throaty and thrusts his hips, causing me to
grasp at the sheets.

“Oh, she’s awake alright,” he whispers with a smile. “Aren’t you,
darling?”

“You’re too cruel,” I moan. “She’s going to end up hearing us.”

“I don’t care,” he answers, his mouth a hair’s breadth away from my
earlobe. “In fact, I hope she does. It will teach her not to call to people’s
houses at such ungodly hours in the future.”

He pulls out fully before shoving back in deep. Air leaves my mouth in a
loud exhale.

“I told her I’d help at the Easter festival. I have to go down.”

His grin is devious. “Not until I feel your tight little cunt squeeze my
cock as you come.”

“Phoenix!”

“I’m serious, Eve,” his tone broaches no argument and the look in his
eyes makes me squirm.

He begins pounding me now; the movement causes my bed to creak with the
unmistakable sound of two people having sex. I pray that it doesn’t travel down
to Margaret. I can hear her calling again, but from the rear of the cottage
this time. She must have walked around the back to peer in my kitchen window.

“Fuck, that woman does not give up,” Phoenix groans, his face clouded
with desire as he pumps faster. I feel my sex tighten. I’ve come so many times
in the last twenty-four hours I’ve now lost count. I’m filled with love as I
watch him, my eyes soaking in the movements of his muscled form as it worships
me. His neck strains, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, staring down at
me.

I softly pant, too afraid to make a noise any louder than that. Phoenix
palms my breast, holding himself up with just one arm now. I go up on my elbows
to look down between our bodies, to see his cock moving in and out of me. This
is the first time I’ve seen it and Phoenix’s eyes darken as he realises what I’m
doing.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” he pants, sweat dripping from his temples.

“Yeah. I need…” I trail off, not knowing how I was going to finish that
sentence now that he’s coming inside of me and I am shattering with pleasure.

We fall back into the pillows, allowing our orgasms to ride out. I take a
minute or so to gather myself before I crawl out from underneath him and go to
grab a robe.

He chuckles. “I can’t believe you’re still going.”

“I know you don’t like Margaret, but I do,” I reply with a grin before
disappearing down the stairs.

I open the front door to find her walking back down towards the garden
gate. “Margaret!” I call and she turns on her heel.

“Eve, I thought you weren’t in,” she says with a curious smile, hands on
hips.

“I overslept. I’m sorry. What time do you need me for the festival?”

“Now, preferably. But I can see you’re not ready. Go get dressed and meet
me down at the beach in an hour if you can. I’ll have Thomas and James help me
set up.”

“Alright, see you then,” I wave her off and hurry back upstairs to take a
shower.

Once I’m standing under the hot spray of water Phoenix comes to join me,
his skilled hands moving over my skin, soaping me up. He only washes me,
though. I think we’ve had enough sex in the last day to last us a month. He
lathers up some soap on a wash cloth, slips his arm around my waist to hold me
in place and rubs it between my legs. His fingers briefly probe inside of me
but they don’t stay there long and then he moves on to washing my hair.

We take turns cleaning one another, and when I emerge from the shower I
feel truly cleansed. There is something really bonding about trusting another
person enough to wash you. I dress in a calf-length ivory skirt and a chocolate
brown camisole, throwing a light grey cardigan over my shoulders.

Phoenix drives me down to the beach, where there are dozens of people
setting up stalls on the grassy area beyond the sand. There’s a large parking
lot that has been cleared out to fit a funfair. When I catch sight of the chair-o-planes
my heart fills with child-like delight and I make a promise to myself that I
will take a ride on them later.

Phoenix gives me a tender look and squeezes my thigh, watching how my
eyes light up as I take in all the rides. Stopping the truck by the side of the
road close to the beach, Phoenix tells me, “I have a few things to take care of
at the shop, but I’ll stop by later and free you from Margaret’s tyranny. Then
we will go and enjoy the fair.”

My throat gets all funny and ticklish. I hadn’t even asked him to bring
me, yet he must have sensed it was something I wanted to do. I know he’s not
much for social events, so the fact that he’s doing this for me makes me get a
little emotional.

I pull his mouth to mine and kiss him deeply before stepping out of the
truck. When I reach Margaret she puts me to work stacking jars of jam on her
stall table while she sets out her gourmet breads. The breads smell delicious
and my mouth waters at the sight of them.

Once we’re done we sit down on two folding chairs that Thomas has brought
from the back of their car and watch as people begin to flock to the fair. It’s
a bright, warm day and I’m glad I wore my brown gladiator sandals as I flex my
toes under the sun.

A couple of customers begin to queue at the stall and Margaret and I get
to work serving them. Margaret is delighted as people compliment her produce
and I smile. It’s comforting to be around her because she reminds me a little
of Harriet. Saying that, she’s not nearly as eccentric as Harriet was, but she
has that kind of old lady mischief about her that is so similar to Harriet’s. I
get anxious when Deborah and Cathy show up. I notice them about two stalls
over, admiring some handmade jewellery.

Deborah’s wearing a red shift dress and her hair is down, the silky blonde
locks reaching just below her shoulders. When she catches sight of me her
expression sours and she and Cathy begin making their way toward the stall.

“Margaret, what wonderful smelling breads,” exclaims Cathy. “I must buy a
loaf from you.”

“Yes, me too,” Deborah adds, smiling politely at Margaret and blatantly
ignoring my existence.

“Of course, ladies, which would you like?”

They go about pointing out loaves and I sit back down in my folding
chair, hoping they’ll move on quickly. They’re acting nice but I can sense their
dislike of me as though it were printed across their foreheads. It taints the
air. James comes over from where he’d been chatting with his dad and a few
other local men and takes the chair Margaret had been sitting on. He folds his
arms and nods to Deborah.

“That one has it in for you,” he says in a quiet voice.

I cringe and turn to him slightly. “Is it that obvious?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“What can I do to get her to back off?”

“I’m not sure. She’s been bad mouthing you around town, you know. I heard
her in my shop the other day and put a stop to it, but that doesn’t mean she
isn’t doing it elsewhere.”

A small gasp escapes me. “What was she saying?”

He purses his lips, looking like he’d rather not elaborate. “Basically
that you’re a hussy who’s going around seducing every man you can get your
hands on. I know it’s not true. Mum told me Deborah’s jealous of the attention
you’ve been receiving from Phoenix. And even if she hadn’t told me, I still
wouldn’t believe Deborah’s lies. She can be vicious when she wants something
bad enough.”

My eyes grow watery and I stare hard at the woman as she laughs and chats
with Margaret and Cathy close by. James looks at me, sees my teary gaze and
sucks in a breath.

“Ah now, don’t go letting her upset you, Eve. Nobody believes her. They
all saw you and Phoenix at my barbecue and have likely put two and two
together. Everyone in town knows she’s had a thing for him for years.”

He drags his chair closer and pats me on the shoulder comfortingly. I
give him a grateful smile and glance up to see Phoenix approaching the stall,
his eyes hard and focused in on James’ hand on my shoulder. I quickly pull away
and sit up straighter. I don’t want him getting the wrong impression, but from
the look on his face he already has.

“Phoenix!” says Margaret in greeting when she sees him. Deborah and Cathy
immediately look in his direction. “I’m so glad you decided to drop by. Here,
let me give you one of my cheese loaves to take home with you.”

He brushes her off. “That’s very kind, but there’s no need for you to do
that.” Then his eyes zone in on me and I feel goose pimples prickle at my skin.

“Are you alright?” he asks, walking around the stall, dropping to his
haunches in front of me and placing his hands on my thighs.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answer, unable to disguise a small sniffle.