Pole Position (4 page)

It had been a lifetime since I’d been out with someone as refreshing as Anita. Here was a girl who felt comfortable in her own skin, who was happy to wear scruffy clothes and get a bit of dirt under her nails. Someone who didn’t wear the inch-thick makeup that seemed mandatory these days.

I wanted to make a good impression on her. A huge part of her attraction was her naivety, the refreshing lack of sophistication. Once her friends knew she’d had dinner with me, I was sure they’d be quick to dish the dirt on Susie.

I pushed away thoughts of my soon-to-be-ex-wife and watched Anita’s face as we were led to our table. Dad had suggested well. The restaurant sprawled across three rooms, spacious and yet comfortable at the same time. Log fires were ready to be lit if the temperature dropped, and fresh garden flowers dressed every table. Soft jazz music hummed in the background, and the other diners murmured their private conversations. Soon we sat facing each other with just a glass vase of blooms between us.

She wouldn’t meet my eyes at first. Was she nervous? I tried to think of an easy icebreaker, something to get the conversation flowing. I was as tongue-tied as a teenager at a school dance. How ridiculous.

She gave me a tentative smile. “Do you come here often?”

I laughed in delight, the tension forgotten. “Now who’s using a corny line? No, I’ve not been here before. I asked my dad where we might go, and he suggested this place. He brings his new clients here when he wants to impress them.”

“And are you trying to impress me?” Her voice was soft, her expression curious.

Yes
. No. What the hell was the right answer here? I went for honesty. “I guess I am. Are you impressed?”

She laughed. Dimples—incredibly sexy dimples—appeared in her cheeks. “I guess I am,” she echoed. “This is a far cry from the usual places I eat.” She looked warily at the menu the waitress had left. “It also looks rather expensive.”

“Please,” I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. “It’s my treat. You can choose somewhere next time.”

I saw her eyes widen as I said
next time
, and she hesitated before smiling her acceptance. After that, it was fine. Better than fine actually, it was great.

We talked about everything and nothing, although we steered clear of any references to relationships. I saw no reason to mention Susie, and she made no mention of any boyfriend, ex or otherwise.

She admitted she had zero interest in technology, didn’t have an iPod or a laptop, and only a basic mobile phone.

I laughed. “How do you manage without a smartphone?”

A hint of a flush appeared on her cheeks, but her smile stayed in place. “There’s no point in my having an expensive phone. My last mobile was trodden on in the yard, and the one before that fell in the water trough.” She shrugged, and played with the flower petals before her. “It didn’t work too well after that.”

She spent all her spare time and energy with horses—teaching, riding out, or competing with Sam. I’d ridden a little in the U.S., and we talked about the differences in riding style. She’d never ridden Western and eagerly asked how it compared.

Dinner vanished. I’d no idea what we ate. To be honest, I could have been munching on wet cardboard and it wouldn’t have mattered. She gazed trustingly at me. Her big brown eyes looked liquid in the candlelight, and her face glowed with happiness.

Asking Anita to dinner had been the right decision. The more we talked, the more entranced I was, and somewhere deep inside me, an idea sparked.
She might be different
. There was a touching innocence about her and it brought out every protective instinct I possessed.

I had to see her again. I wanted her, and with a hunger that surprised me, not just the usual shag and run. I’d had enough of those. I had the chance to start something new, with no preconceptions on either side.

Jon and I chatted like old friends. I already loved his easy, self-deprecating humor and his passion about racing. He had the perfect opportunity to make his sport—his career—sound very glamorous, especially to a complete novice like myself. Instead, he talked about the early starts and the late nights, the endless tiring traveling, and hanging about all day waiting for just two hours of frantic activity. It struck a chord with me. It reminded me of all the years I’d spent going to shows, all the hours of preparation and training beforehand, for a brief period of action.

All too soon, dinner was over. Jon suggested we take our coffees outside, so we could sit by the fountains that lit up at night. It had gone dark but still felt mild, and the Pashmina was ideal for keeping out any chill. As I stood up from the table, Jon held his hand out to me. It felt perfectly natural to take it and walk together, our fingers gloriously tangled. I thrilled at his touch, this easy intimacy between us, and we strolled outside in no particular hurry. I could have stayed there all night. We stood admiring the subtle lighting as the water splashed and flowed before us.

“Even more beautiful than I thought,” murmured Jon.

I turned slightly to see him looking at me. My face went hot, but in the dark, he couldn’t see that. He swept some stray tendrils of hair from my face, his gaze holding mine. It felt as though he looked right through me. For a moment, I ignored everything. I ignored Jon’s dubious past, and pushed my inadequacies to the back of my mind. He stared at me as though he was intoxicated and I felt the same, drunk and giddy with excitement. His moved his hand down to my lips, a feather-light touch. I ached for him to kiss me.

In the dim light reflected from the fountain, I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his. I couldn’t believe my boldness. I would
never
normally behave like this.

All my senses sang out. The electricity when our hands met was nothing compared to this. His eyes widened, and he pulled me close. My left hand stayed entwined with his right, but our bodies were pressed together, lips millimeters apart. He smiled, that gorgeous panty-melting smile, kissed me again, and I was lost.

I’d always thought it tacky when I saw people snogging in public. Now I didn’t care.

“Sir. I have your coffee.” The waitress smiled apologetically as she broke into our world, and I pulled myself back with a struggle. Jon recovered quickly and walked me to a nearby bench. Sitting, he released my hand—it instantly felt empty and alone—then slid his arm across the back of the seat and tucked me into his side. That was better. I craved his touch. I’d never felt this way before, but it felt
right
, as though I’d found a part of me I didn’t realize had been missing.

We barely spoke as we drank our coffees. Jon played gently with my hair, like a reassurance he was still with me. I’d stepped into a fairytale world where I sat and chatted with a handsome man, and I didn’t feel afraid.

I didn’t want the night to end.

I was so angry with Danny. This was the first time I’d known Anita to go on a date, and now he’d risked spoiling it for her. I felt entirely justified beating him with the tea towel. It’s how I behaved at home with my brothers, keeping them in line. For the past six months, I’d treated him as a friend, in much the same vein as Anita. He was there for gentle teasing, reminding to do chores, and all the icky jobs nobody liked.

So in that moment, when his chair collapsed, and he crashed to the floor, I was in control of a normal situation. When he grabbed my wrists and pulled me down with him, the world suddenly changed. It shifted on its axis, jolted me into seeing a different view, and then it wouldn’t let me back to how it had been before.

I landed, sprawled across his broad chest, my lips a breath away from his, my wrists imprisoned in his hands. I felt the hardness of his thighs beneath me. All that riding had given him an incredibly fit body. And all at once, I wanted to do some riding too, but not horses. Our eyes locked. He had gold flecks in his irises. I saw his pupils dilate, heard his breath quicken.

“Sour Bollocks? Is that how you see me?” His eyes never left my face.

“Uh-huh.” For some reason, I’d lost the power of speech.

Holding my wrists so I couldn’t move—not that I wanted to—he closed the gap between us and locked his lips onto mine. I moaned, and he instantly let go of my hands, winding his arms around me instead, his lips still attached to mine.

How long did we sit there on the floor? He kissed me senseless, then removed my blouse and kissed every inch of my breasts with a hunger I’d never imagined from him.

At that moment, I could honestly say I didn’t consider the implications of sleeping with my landlord and the changes it might have on our domestic arrangements.

I wanted him. And from the enormous hard-on in his pants, he wanted me too.

Our clothes made a trail along the floor, leading from the kitchen into my bedroom, just across the hallway. I’d been right about his thighs—like iron. His entire body was hard and muscular, and he was very well endowed. We left the foreplay behind in the kitchen and got down to business as soon as we reached my room.

Danny grabbed me by the waist and propelled me forward to land face down on the bed, my knickers still tangled around one ankle. “You have the most gorgeous arse.” He slid a calloused hand between my thighs to stroke my pussy lips. A rush of moisture surged out at his touch, and he groaned. “Christ, you’re wet.”

I whimpered, every nerve ending on red alert, waiting for him to move. His dick pressed against me. I didn’t want to wait.

“I have condoms.” I lifted my arm and stretched to the bedside cabinet, fumbling for the box I had there. I tugged out one of the packets and dropped it on the bed next to me. “Hurry.” I wiggled my arse at him and heard a muffled groan along with foil tearing.

The blunt head of his cock nudged into me, and I moaned. This was going to be a hell of a ride. Danny paused, splayed one hand across my back, the other on my hip, and then he plunged all the way in. I sucked in my breath, my inner muscles welcoming him inside. He gave me a second to accommodate him, slid out gently, and then slammed back in.
Hard
. Oh
God
, he hit every sweet spot along the way. I whimpered with sheer pleasure, clenching around him, and squeezing with everything I had. Danny set a fast pace, hammering into me, burning me up, and driving me to the edge in no time at all. This was fucking at its rawest. Senseless, mindless, animal rutting and I loved every minute of it.

He grazed his teeth down the edge of my neck and I wailed, my fists curling round the pillow, the headboard creaking with every thrust. His grip tightened on my hip, and he dropped his other hand to flick my swollen clit. The sensations multiplied and heightened. My entire body convulsed, milking him dry.

Christ. That had been the best orgasm ever. It was fucking amazing.

Danny flopped onto the bed beside me and took care of the condom. I rolled over and stretched like a cat, feeling all my muscles groaning in the nicest possible way. Danny and me. Who would have thought it? I dropped a kiss on his shoulder. “Fancy sharing a bath, lover boy?”

He gazed at me. I didn’t like the doubt that flooded his eyes. Was he having second thoughts?

“I can’t.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “I’ve, uh, got some invoices I need to check.”

What the fuck?
We’d just shared a mind-bendingly great shag, and now I was being abandoned for some fucking invoices?

“You’re joking?” I’d give him one chance to change his mind.

“I’m sorry.” He wouldn’t look at me.

I stared in disbelief as he rapidly dressed. He raced out of my bedroom as though the hounds of hell were nipping at his ankles. Well, didn’t that tell me everything I needed to know?

He saw me as a mistake.

I ran myself a bath, dressed in my shortest skirt and highest heels, called two of my drinking buddies, and went out. Getting hammered seemed like the solution.

It was late when Jon pulled up outside my house, and turned off the car engine. Music played softly in the background and I gazed at him, unwilling to break the spell.

He unfastened his seat belt and turned toward me. I unclipped my own belt, and took his outstretched hands, skin to skin, feeling his warmth flowing through me again.

“I wondered.” His voice sounded diffident. “I’m racing on Sunday at Oulton Park, not far from here. Do you fancy coming to watch?”

I sensed this was important to him, and I squeezed his fingers. “I’d love to. What time should I be there?”

A grin of relief broke across his face. “You will? Great. I’m not on until three thirty, but I’ll be tied up most of the day. If you can get there about two thirty, we can catch up before the start.”

“Half past two, Oulton Park. But how do I get in? Do I need to buy a ticket or something?”

“No. Follow signs for the competitors’ enclosure and ask for Tom McNally, my manager and chief engineer. Everyone knows Tom. I’ll make sure they’re expecting you at the gate.”

“I look forward to it.”

With beautiful tenderness, he reached out and smoothed a stray lock of hair behind my ear. It was as though he’d put a spell on me. I was transfixed. He stroked his fingers down my cheek and paused at my mouth, resting on my lips. My pulse boomed in my ears, so loud, he must have been able to hear it.

“I need to kiss you.” Jon’s voice was husky.

I couldn’t drag my eyes away from his lips. “Yes,” I whispered. What was I doing? Would he stop at just a kiss? Common sense reasserted itself. We sat in a car outside my home, and he’d been a perfect gentleman so far.

He leaned into me, and brushed his lips over mine. Soft and gentle, he took his time and I relaxed into him. Jon made me feel safe, I realized with a sense of wonder.

It was odd, but I had that prickly back-of-the-neck feeling that convinced me we were being watched, and I pulled back, to Jon’s visible disappointment. The moment of separation felt intense, for a second I was dizzy, but as I looked outside, I knew I’d been right. There, in our darkened kitchen, I saw a face staring out at us, illuminated by the street lights.

“
Danny
.”

I looked back at Jon and his face darkened. He followed my gaze and stared at the house. “Is he watching us? Who the fuck is it?”

It felt as awkward as if Danny had crept in the car to watch us. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” Despite the knowledge Danny was there, I claimed a final kiss. “I’ll see you on Sunday,” I whispered, unwilling to leave him.

As I dithered over leaving, a noisy taxi rumbled up behind us. With much door banging, Colette staggered out of it and gazed at Jon’s car.

I groaned. “It’s like Piccadilly bloody Circus here tonight.” Before I could change my mind, I scrambled out of Jon’s car.

Colette stood a few yards away, swaying gently as she held on to a lamppost.

“Is that him?”

Her voice slurred as she spoke, ringing out loudly. I’d never seen her like this before. It would have to happen tonight, while I had Jon here. I nodded.

“Yes, that’s Jon.” I wanted him to drive away, but he climbed out too.

Colette’s eyes lit up, and she lurched forward, hands held out. “I’m Colette, and I know you’re Jon. Don’t you think she looks hot tonight?” She beamed at him. He caught her hands as she teetered across the pavement.

“Bloody heels,” she muttered, and then grinned up at Jon again. “Well, doesn’t she?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, with a smile to me. “She looks hot.”

“We live here.” Colette swung an arm wildly toward the house. “Would you like to come in for a little drink? Don’t s’pose Anita asked you, her manners are terrible if you’re not a horse. But,” she winked brightly at the bemused-looking Jon, “she doesn’t ever bring any men back here.”

Colette froze, her gaze fixed on the house. She had to have seen Danny in the window. “That bloody, pompous prick, watching me.”

Her voice roared out, shocking in the quiet street. It startled me—heaven knew what poor Jon thought. The next minute she stomped up the path, muttering to herself.

I took Jon’s hands and squeezed them tight. “I want to thank you for tonight. I had the most amazing time, it was just wonderful.” I gave him another kiss and then stepped back. “
Go
.” I painted a confident smile on my face, and made a shooing motion with my hands. “Go now. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

He looked back at the madhouse. Colette was screeching at Danny, her voice audible from the street.

“Are you okay? I mean to stay here? Who
are
these people?”

“My housemates. And it’s not normally like this, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry—just go.”

“Should I come in for a minute?” Jon looked anxious and no wonder, it sounded as though they were murdering each other.

I tried to laugh, pretending to sound unconcerned. “Go home, Jon. I’ll go in now, and I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Promise?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I blew him a kiss and went in to see what was happening with Danny and Colette.

The kitchen lights were all blazing. Colette slumped at one end of the kitchen table while Danny, sporting a red handprint on his cheek, appeared to be making coffee. I crouched next to Colette and slipped my arm around her shoulders.

“Colette, honey, are you okay?”

“Watching me,” she mumbled.

Danny pushed a mug of coffee toward her. “Colette,” he spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Drink your coffee and go to bed.”

She lifted her head to gaze intently at him. “You finish your fucking invoices then? Plenty of time to watch for me coming home.”

I broke in, before another row could erupt. “No honey, he was watching me and Jon, before you arrived.” I looked at Danny. “What the hell were you doing? It made me feel really uncomfortable.”

“I was making sure you were okay. Like I always do.”

Before I could say anything else, Colette started sobbing. “You weren’t waiting for me after all.”

I’d no idea what was going on, especially when Danny sat down and pulled her into his lap. After some initial resistance, she gave in and wound her arms around his neck, to weep onto his chest.

He looked coldly at me. “See what you’ve done now?”

What
I’d
done? What
had
I done? I escaped to my room. The entire world had gone mad.