The Angels' Share (7 page)

I clutched my camisole to my breasts, not sure I could hear this naked. I wanted to learn everything about the man who had obviously conned his way into the estate but more than that, way more, I wanted to ease Dominic back onto the bed and allow him to become my living fantasy. The push-pull force was too great so I stood dumbly before him with my thoughts behaving as if I was drunk and my body teased to unbearable dizziness by Dominic’s gaze and brief touch.

‘Mr Kinrade understands his responsibility to the estate. He manages the place impeccably. The distillery exports whisky all over the world and Glen Broath has made quite a name for itself in the States.’

‘But?’ I didn’t want this although knew I had to dig for information. What I really wanted was Dominic delving into me.

‘But he never asked for the role. You have to know him to understand that.’

It was my own fault for accepting such a deal. Whoever said ‘never mix business and pleasure’ was right. The line between information and potential bliss was blurring fast and I had to decide on which side of it I was standing. I breathed in and closed my eyes briefly.

‘That’s my problem. I don’t know him. I do know, however, that he is an impostor.’ Then I stepped forward and allowed the weight of my body to topple Dominic the gardener back onto the antique bedspread before silencing my own mouth by investigating the hard line of his jaw with my lips. He didn’t slacken as I had expected but tensed as my words ricocheted between us. I could only deduce that he knew and cared for Ethan Kinrade very much. And it was the ignition between my legs, however tentatively it had been applied, and the crazy situation in which I found myself, that caused me to unravel Dominic and coax his surprisingly unwilling body to respond.

I curled my fingers inside the top of his checked shirt and prised the buttons open to reveal a grey T-shirt that clung to the blocks of muscle on his chest. He lay still and allowed me to precisely kiss his face and neck. My body was draped half over his, my legs entwined around the roughness of his jeans, and I had all but forgotten that I was naked and responding loudly to my new-found assertiveness. As my desire for the virtual stranger increased, my actions became more urgent, to the point where I wrestled him out of his clothing so that he was lying on the quilt in his shorts and wearing nothing but a blank expression with only the tiniest breeze of a smile.

‘You don’t seem so keen to learn about Mr Kinrade any more.’

Was he telling me or asking me? I didn’t care. I was awash with an exceptional craving: the need for danger, frivolity and the compulsion to pleasure him senseless. I sanctioned my behaviour on the grounds that I need never see him again. It was all in my diary, which, for now, I tried to forget was lost.

‘I want to learn about
you
.’ It was half true although I didn’t want his life story. But I did want to know what lay beneath his cotton shorts. ‘Are you going to let me find out?’

Dominic nodded in a way I hadn’t expected. He was a gardener, a man used to heavy work and the outdoors, his body covered in skin that had seen many summers working without a shirt and muscle that was lean and honed, and I would have expected him to demonstrate his acceptance with more vigor. Instead, he simply gave a tentative bob of his head and quickly averted his heavy, doleful eyes, like a naughty eighteen-year-old boy caught with his pants down. My heart slammed against my ribs and my lungs vied for space as my breathing quickened.

‘So, what should I do to you?’ I didn’t mean my voice to be quite so loud or to pull his face into line with mine so eagerly but somehow, strangely, provocatively, I felt he needed to be taught a lesson. ‘You can’t just go around ordering women to take their clothes off, you know.’ Something delightful skipped through my body, a kind of sparkle on a string threaded through every vein. Shame might come later but, for now, I was enjoying this.

To my surprise, Dominic lifted up one of the many pillows and pulled out several long, silk scarves from underneath. He handed them to me, still wearing that modest look with eyes deeper than they had any right to be. I wasn’t experienced in such things but instinctively knew that the offering was an encouragement to render him helpless. That sparkle again, fizzing through me.

‘Spread your arms and legs,’ I ordered in a voice that was developing a harshness I never thought possible. Dominic emitted a low rumble that I took to signal approval so, just to let him know who was now in charge, I told him I would have to bind his wrists and ankles extra tight to the bedposts. ‘It’s your own fault.’ I kneeled over his body to fasten the knots. My breasts bobbed perilously close to his mouth as I leaned over and my pussy, lining itself with a skim of moisture, hovered near shorts that had risen with the erection they obviously contained. ‘You shouldn’t have been so rough with me earlier. My turn now.’ I gave him a sweet smile as I checked each knot again with a sharp yank.

I sat beside his stretched body and took a long, hard look at what was on offer. Aside from the appealing yet mysterious face, framed by a mass of dark brown hair, and the sinewy neck, leading to a torso muscular not from meticulous and vain exercise but from years of toil caring for hundreds of trees and acres of parkland, aside from the long limbs covered in just the right amount of hair, there was the pale blue cotton of his shorts to consider. I hardly dared to look let alone think of touching the cloth and its contents. I did notice, however, a blot of damp on the fabric at the peak of his evidently eager cock.

Was it really me that reached out and stroked him from the hair between the mounds of his pecs, across his warm belly and over the rigid contents of his boxers, finishing up with my fingers gently kneading the soft cushion of his balls? I loved the feeling of cotton covering its needy filling. So much of me wanted to dive right in there, pull off his underwear…

‘Oh no!’ I felt stupid, inexperienced and instantly wished I hadn’t said ‘oh no’. Dominic didn’t say anything because I think he already knew. He glanced over to the night-stand and winked at me and it wasn’t until I looked there that I realised what he meant.

I reached out and picked up the stainless steel scissors that were muddled amongst a book, a comb and other similar bedroom items. Dominic had anticipated my predicament, which was now going to be wicked fun rather than the nuisance of having to untie him again.

‘You’d better not move then,’ I said, dragging the cold metal of the closed blades across skin that fell away beneath his shorts. He twitched briefly but then arched his back and moaned as I daringly pushed my face into the cotton package and took a draught of his scent before administering a playful nip to his shaft. ‘You smell good,’ I said, brandishing the blades. ‘Hold still.’

I carefully cut into the cotton – how else was I going to get the things off? – and peeled away the cloth as I snipped. It was like my birthday as the beautiful gift inside was revealed. Dominic’s erection sprung free of the shorts and looked up at me with a glint in its eye. I held still and breathless, sitting astride his legs so that I’m sure he could see the beads of moisture escaping from between my thighs. I trailed the scissors up the gossamer skin of his shaft before teasing the paler dome at the top. Dominic’s head lunged from side to side and the tension on his wrists increased as he could barely stand the cold, light touch. I put the scissors back on the night-stand and leaned forward on my hands so that I was on all-fours above the poor, writhing gardener.

‘Do you make a habit of this?’ I asked sternly. ‘How many other young women have you tricked into nakedness?’

‘None, really. You don’t understand –’

‘Damn right I don’t. You made a deal and it’s quite obvious that you know nothing of use about Ethan Kinrade.’

To silence Dominic, who was evidently ready to protest, I surprised him – and indeed myself – by shifting forward and dropping my pussy onto his mouth. I reached out and gripped the bedposts for support, which allowed me to manoeuvre up or down and adjust the pressure and position of his tongue. I was burning up with desire and, as the warmth of his tongue collided with the pressure in my sex, I thought I would explode immediately.

To calm myself, I rode Dominic’s face in long, light strokes, barely allowing his outstretched tongue to dip between my lips. How he moaned each time my wetness left his face, as if he couldn’t bear being without the taste of me. Then I allowed him to beat against my clitoris and he brought me to within a breath of orgasm with the skill and speed of a hummingbird’s wing.

‘Stop.’ I was breathless. ‘Did I ask you to make me come yet?’ I reached behind my back and grabbed the thick girth of his cock, administering a sizeable squeeze to let him know I meant it. Dominic let out his loudest moan yet although I wasn’t sure if it was from pleasure or pain. With my face covered in a tangle of rain-wetted hair, I turned and immediately dropped my mouth to his groin. My breasts pressed against the soft covering of fuzz on his lower belly and I couldn’t help it that my buttocks rose into the air like a freshly cut peach that was too juicy by far for Dominic, even in his restrained position, to ignore. Like a mirror to my own actions on his cock, I again felt the heat of his mouth between my legs except this time his tongue was delving high inside me. Every push he made somehow urged his cock deeper down my throat until I was massaging him with the softest, innermost part of my mouth. If I couldn’t prise information about Kinrade from him, then I could at least use him to relieve my fantasy-fuelled condition.

But however hard I tried, first filling my mouth and then my sex as I turned and lowered my freshly primed pussy onto his near vertical erection, I didn’t like it that I had been tricked by a mere employee of Ethan Kinrade, especially when the stakes were so high. I felt him pulse inside me as I spoke.

‘You’re a damn liar and fraud, Dominic whoever-you-are, and you deserve to be left tied to this bed until the maid finds you.’ I leaned forward and dug my nails into his muscle-bound shoulders and in response he bucked as high as his pelvis would allow. Shockwaves as bright as lasers needled through me so I ground myself onto him to build up the waves that precede an orgasm. I didn’t care if he was approaching a climax or not although, judging by the thickness of him inside me and the clenched expression stretched across his face, I took a guess that he wasn’t far away.

‘You could be the maid,’ he said in jerky syllables. ‘The current one is leaving so…Mr Kinrade…’ – he paused and breathed heavily, thrusting beneath me – ‘Mr Kinrade is going to need another one.’

I didn’t care about maids and, at that moment, I didn’t care about Ethan Kinrade either. I sat bolt upright, arched my back and closed my eyes as the signs of inescapable orgasm began. The tension in my sex increased until I was forced to hold perfectly still, as if trapped in the eye of a tornado, until the crashing tide plundered my mind and body and I was thrown into euphoria by Dominic’s insistent cock. Even when I had come, and I know he felt my contractions because he moaned in rhythm, he continued to pound inside me. Within thirty seconds, another string of waves washed through me and Dominic, still pumping hard, burst open inside me and I swear that I felt seven or eight hot jets fire into my core.

I dropped forward onto his panting body and then rolled off. I laughed. ‘We could do with a maid to clear up this mess,’ I joked, remembering his pre-come comment. I dipped my fingers in the mixture of juice and semen ladled over his groin. ‘She could lap it all up for us,’ I said naughtily.

‘If you take the job then you can begin work right away,’ he said and I knew he was serious by the deep tone of his voice, although he did wink playfully. I raised an eyebrow. It was a possibility. It would allow me to snoop around the house freely and get me into the very core of Kinrade’s stolen domain. Plus, I would have a source of income until I claimed my rightful inheritance.

‘OK, I accept,’ I said with a grin. ‘But won’t Mr Kinrade need to interview me himself?’

‘He trusts me completely,’ Dominic replied. ‘Besides, I think I’ve seen enough of you to know that he’d consider you perfect for the job. When can you start?’

‘How about right now?’ I teased, thoroughly pleased with myself for having turned around what could have been – aside from the quenching of my desire for sex with a stranger – a rather fruitless day.

Then, as I plunged my face onto his semi-hard cock, dutifully cleaning up the mess as any good maid would, I realised that I was on the brink of unleashing too many fantasies all at once. Perhaps it was the sea air, or the no-risk feeling of being away from my home in Spain. Whatever it was, I found myself aroused again by the thought of the evening ahead at the cliff top cottage with Lewis and Elizabeth. But for now I concentrated on my role of maid and did a superlative job of cleaning up Dominic the gardener.

It wasn’t until much later, when I was tucking into Lewis’s superb dinner, that I wondered how Dominic had known about the scarves and scissors in Ethan Kinrade’s bedroom.

Elizabeth opened the door and her momentarily blank expression told me that either she wasn’t keen on my presence for dinner or Lewis had forgotten to tell her about the invitation.

‘Oh. Yes,’ she said slowly. I didn’t detect an outright lie in an attempt to cover lack of knowledge but I didn’t notice much friendliness either. ‘Come in out of the cold.’

Old Bridge Cottage exuded warmth and the tang of herbs and log fires, distinctly noticeable in the air even while I was walking through the drizzle from the beach hut. The lure of relaxing by a fire was almost as good as my torch in guiding me through the dark, and the thought of tucking into Lewis’s catch kept me going on the tricky path up from the shore.

‘I’m Ailey,’ I said, hoping it might animate the woman because strangely she was standing quite still, staring at me intently. ‘From the beach cottage.’ I held out my hand, which she eventually took, returning a delicate, barely-there handshake.

‘Elizabeth,’ she said, exhaling at last and giving me a sweet smile. ‘But you can call me Liz.’

On seeing the woman at close range, my mind was flooded with my voyeuristic antics of the previous night. My cheeks reddened and, rather than detecting embarrassment, I hoped she would blame the chill night air for my sudden flush.

‘Ailey, you made it!’ Thankfully, Lewis emerged from the low kitchen doorway drying his hands on a tea towel. ‘Liz, take Ailey’s coat while I fetch her some mulled wine. She must be chilled to the bone.’

Indeed I was. Any remnants of heat from my earlier encounter with Dominic had sadly dissipated into the Manx winter. Following my unplanned encounter with Creg-ny-Varn’s gardener, I had taken a shower and made myself a hot drink. Dominic didn’t seem to mind and Ethan Kinrade wasn’t there to care. Besides, after several hours in the place, the Manor had already begun to wrap its arms around my heart. As much as I loved my life in Spain, Creg-ny-Varn had always been my home.

‘Sit by the fire and get this inside you.’ Lewis planted me in a fireside chair and handed me a glass of warm wine that was scented with nutmeg, cloves and orange. ‘I hope the walk from Niarbyl wasn’t too difficult in the rain and dark.’ He stood with Liz, the pair looking down at me, as if I was a stray pet that had returned home. ‘It’s a long walk. Dangerous, too,’ Lewis continued.

‘It’s not far as the crow flies though, is it, Ailey?’ Liz’s earlier meagre smile blossomed into a full-blown grin, lighting up her small, pale face. It was unspoken but the understanding between us was palpable and I think they were still enjoying the feeling of having been watched during their lovemaking. Personally, I was squirming with embarrassment.

‘I’ll have to get used to the walk, I suppose.’ I wanted to change the subject but Lewis insisted on talking about the cottage.

‘It’s a bit cut off, for a young girl living on her own.’ He placed his arm around Liz’s small waist and pulled her towards him. I looked away, not wanting them to think I was studying another of their displays of affection.

‘I like being alone,’ I said, which was mostly true although I had relished my earlier liaison with Dominic. I’d barely had a second to ponder my encounter at Creg-ny-Varn, having afterwards walked a further couple of miles to a shop in order to stock the cottage with provisions. Then I’d cleared out the back room and tried to make the whole place more homely. The result was pleasing and I’d even collected some shells from the beach to decorate the window sills and lit a fire for comfort for when I returned from dinner with Lewis and Elizabeth.

‘Did you catch anything?’ I asked. The warm wine drizzled pleasantly down my throat and my skin was beginning to tingle from the flames. Lewis looked at Elizabeth fondly and made a silly expression.

‘Did I catch anything, she asks. Talking of which, I’d better check on the sauce.’ Lewis left the room and Liz sat down on the opposite side of the inglenook.

‘He’s pleased with himself,’ she said. ‘He got a massive haul, most of which is in the freezer, and he’s given away some of the cod. You could take some back with you, if you like.’ That sweet smile again, lighting up her delicate features beneath a cap of trimmed blonde hair.

‘Thanks,’ I said, not really wanting any. The few provisions I bought earlier had to be tinned because I didn’t have a refrigerator.

Our conversation drifted between life on the island versus a London existence and the benefits of living in a warm climate. I had got as far as telling her that I had travelled from southern Spain but was loath to reveal much more about myself in case it somehow filtered through to Ethan Kinrade upon his return. Then Lewis announced that dinner was ready and Liz guided me through to the dining room where we were greeted by a small, round oak table laden with a colourful feast. But my reprieve from awkward questions was short-lived and, as Lewis was tucking into the starter of crab cakes and chilli dressing, he asked eagerly about my arrival at Niarbyl. Clearly, my dinner invitation had been for no other reason than to find out about their new neighbour.

‘I was telling Liz about your great-uncle Ethan up at Creg-ny-Varn. We’ve seen him around locally a few times. He hardly looks old enough to have a great niece.’ Lewis poured three glasses of chilled Pinot Grigio and raised his glass. ‘To new neighbours,’ he said and Liz echoed his toast although in a slow, thoughtful voice. ‘So tell us, what’s the chap like? As I mentioned earlier, he’s quite an enigma around here. None of the locals seem to know anything about him.’

‘Well,’ I began, slipping a piece of the delicious starter in my mouth so that whatever I said would have to be brief. ‘He does like to keep himself to himself.’ I chewed the crab slowly. ‘Mmm, is there tarragon in this?’

Lewis nodded. ‘We’ve not seen a Mrs Kinrade. Do you have a great-aunt?’

‘Parsley, too? Perhaps a dash of mustard?’ I took a long sip of wine in an attempt to buy extra seconds. ‘No, he has no wife,’ I slipped in before asking where Lewis learnt to cook.

‘Self-taught, aren’t you, darling? Purely an accident of living a bachelor’s life in London and trying to impress the women with your domestic skills.’ Liz laughed and leaned back in her chair. ‘I was more impressed by your legal skills, however.’ They exchanged winks and I made a grab for the subject change.

‘You’re a lawyer?’

‘When it suits him,’ Liz answered on Lewis’s behalf. ‘He prefers bobbing about on his boat to battling in court.’

‘Can’t say I blame you,’ I added. ‘Do you have offices in London? Do you commute?’ My questions came thick and fast.

‘When I have to, yes. I have a practice there and also on the island so I flit between the two. When I get off the twin-prop at Ballasalla airport, it’s like something in me unplugs with the first breath of Manx air.’ Lewis certainly seemed to relish his island life.

‘And what about you, Liz? Are you from the island?’

‘Originally, yes. I went to London to study photography, met Lewis and after spending a few hectic years together, we decided to live up here as much as we could. My work’s flexible. I’m away quite a lot on shoots.’

‘How interesting.’ And that wasn’t a lie just to keep the conversation off Ethan Kinrade. I’d always been fascinated by photography. ‘What’s your speciality?’

‘Nude women,’ she replied directly and began to clear the plates, knowing that she had set my mind spinning just as much as theirs were whizzing, frantic for my personal story and details of Ethan Kinrade.

*   *   *

Lewis had roasted the freshly caught dogfish with oregano, basil, thyme and garlic and then drizzled it with lemon and olive oil. He served it with sliced potatoes baked with pecorino cheese and a green salad and it was the tastiest fish I had ever eaten. Lewis was obviously passionate about food, although his lean, healthy physique didn’t suggest this.

‘How long will you stay on the island?’ Lewis asked, pouring another carefully chosen wine. ‘Are you here for Christmas?’

‘No, I hope to have my business taken care of by then.’ I realised my mistake only when the couple both looked up from their food. They paused from eating and waited silently to hear more. ‘But it’s nothing really. I’ve hardly any business at all.’ I was making things worse.

‘Business with your great-uncle Ethan?’ Liz asked. She had indulged me with polite chit-chat about her life and interests and, since she had kindly invited me to dinner, it felt churlish not to allow them a glimpse of my mission. What harm could it do to reveal a few basic details? Lewis might even be able to offer me some legal advice regarding my stolen inheritance. I had to get one thing straight though.

‘Ethan Kinrade is not my uncle.’

Two gasps preceded the laying down of cutlery. The pair remained silent, which had the effect of causing me to continue.

‘I don’t know who he is, actually. I’m here to find out.’ I sipped my wine, waiting for one of them to speak but they didn’t. ‘Creg-ny-Varn is my father’s…’ – I sipped again, as if to erase my mistake – ‘…
was
my father’s house. It was my childhood home.’ This information elicited raised eyebrows and Lewis puckered his lips, folding his arms.

‘You’ve come back to have a look at your old home then?’ He was satisfied with his assumption.

‘Not exactly.’ They knew too much already. I laughed and turned to Liz. ‘Nude women?’ I wanted to change the subject again but they were both busy puzzling over my intentions and ignored my question.

‘I can ask at the Post Office.’ Liz shrugged her shoulders, perhaps realising how little she and Lewis knew about the nearby estate’s new owner. ‘The woman there knows everything about everyone.’ She smiled. ‘Too much, I sometimes think.’ Then she received an elbow in the ribs from Lewis.

‘No, really. You needn’t bother.’ My covert mission was spilling from between my fingers like ice melting in the sun. Soon there would be no mission because everyone would know my business, including Ethan Kinrade. ‘I’d like to hear more about your photography.’ I peeled apart the layers of potato and melted pecorino. The good food, warmth and company made up for the awkwardness of trying to conceal my situation.

‘So aren’t you technically trespassing by staying in the beach cottage? It belongs to Kinrade’s estate.’ Lewis tried to sound affable but the nature of his question caused the back of my neck to prickle. To defend myself, I would have to reveal more of my story.

‘Not exactly,’ I began. ‘I’m aware that the cottage belongs to Creg-ny-Varn. I used to spend many hours playing there while my father fished or mended his lobster pots.’ I hesitated, ate more food and drank more wine, but Lewis and Liz were attentive listeners. Nothing short of an earthquake would have distracted them from what I was saying. ‘My father died a few months ago. I haven’t seen him for over a decade.’ I paused again, bowing my head and hoping they would urge me not to continue my painful story. They didn’t. ‘I’m here to find out who’s living in my family home. Simple as that.’

‘To find out who has stolen your inheritance, you mean.’ Lewis was stirred by the inkling of a legal case. He blew out through tight lips. ‘That’s a tough one. You really need to see a copy of the will before you go steaming in there.’ He poured more wine. ‘You have no idea if Mr Kinrade is the rightful owner?’

I shook my head and tried to prevent Lewis from filling my glass yet again but he ignored my protestation.

‘That could explain why no one around here ever sees him,’ Liz said. ‘Perhaps he’s a fraud!’

‘The thought hadn’t crossed my mind,’ I said rather too sarcastically. ‘I spoke with the gardener at Creg-ny-Varn earlier today, hoping to get some information about the man.’ I omitted the bit where I’d been caught red-handed peering through the kitchen window and certainly didn’t tell the story of how we ended up in Kinrade’s bed together. ‘He told me that Mr Kinrade is away at present so I’ll have to bide my time until he returns. Perhaps I could research the will, as you suggested, Lewis.’ I smiled, grateful for his input.

‘That’s funny. I swear I saw Kinrade driving out of the estate gates when I went to buy the paper earlier. I was walking Nog to the village.’ Lewis served himself more salad, frowning as he pondered on what he had seen.

‘I doubt it was him,’ I said. ‘The house didn’t show any signs of anyone being around other than the gardener when I was there earlier.’ I smiled inwardly as I replayed snippets of my earlier fun with Dominic. It was most likely that he had used Kinrade’s vehicle to run an errand for the estate. He was in charge of the property, after all.

‘So that’s why I’m here, anyway. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention my presence in the beach cottage to anyone. I’m not doing any harm living there. If anything, I’m improving the place.’ I smiled as I wrapped up my mission in a little packet and handed it to them. Having to dredge through my family history, explaining why my mother and I were forced to leave the island in the first place, was not something I relished. ‘And please, Liz, I want to hear all about your interesting job.’ I leaned forward on my elbows and clasped my hands under my chin while Lewis cleared the plates and Liz regaled me with tales of how she had first got into glamour photography.

*   *   *

‘You must think we’re a dirty pair,’ Lewis said as he carried a tray of coffee into the cosy sitting room. ‘Is Liz telling you the story of how we first met?’

I smiled up at Lewis from my position on the floor by the fire. I was growing to like the couple and their simple lifestyle. In spite of their full-on careers in London, they managed to maintain a contrasting life on the island. Old Bridge Cottage betrayed nothing of Lewis’s fast-paced legal firm and I would never have guessed Liz’s connection with glamour models. Photography, maybe, as the whitewashed cottage walls contained a patchwork of framed black and white pictures, although mainly of artistic coastal and harbour scenes.

‘I was about to,’ Liz said. ‘And I was going to give the
clean
version.’

‘There is no clean version.’ Lewis settled onto the sofa next to Liz. ‘It’s a mucky story however you tell it.’

‘Don’t feel you have to censor it on my behalf.’ I thought I might have been overstepping the mark, especially as I hardly knew the pair – well, not in person anyway. The food, the wine, the waves of heat on my back from the fire made my senses hum with pleasure. Despite a few tricky questions, I was having a wonderful evening. I would have written it all up in my diary later, if it hadn’t been stolen. A brief surge of anger and panic set in as I wondered where it was, or more to the point, where Steph was, the wretched girl from the ferry. But I forced such thoughts from my head for now, along with the prospect of walking home alone, and continued to enjoy the evening. Studying Lewis and Liz together, the way they exchanged glances or placed a hand on the other’s thigh, shared minute details that only they – each half of an indomitable couple – could notice, well, it made me realise how much I wanted to be a half too.