Cold Comfort (17 page)

“You hypocrite,” I shouted. “You’re a complete
manwhore. I’ve seen the blonde sluts hanging off you like human pashminas. So
you’re allowed to fuck anyone you want and I’m not?”

“No,” he said quietly, pulling me again
towards the door where I could see his minder waiting with a car.

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean I haven’t fucked anyone since I
kissed you at that film shoot.”

“But I saw you leave with those other
women.”

“I left with them. I didn’t fuck anyone. I
can’t seem to summon up interest for anyone but this beautiful girl with long
dark hair and violet eyes I met,” he said, stopping to stare at my face, his
hand lifting my chin as he brushed his fingers against my lips. They parted of
their own accord, and Cat’s eyes flared in response. “You’re a fucking witch,
Delilah.”

I smirked. “Well, that’s not very nice.” I
laughed softly. A camera flashed near us, which galvanised him into motion. He
started pulling me towards the car again.

“Eddy,” I suddenly remembered. “I can’t
leave without him.” I pulled back against Cat’s grip. He ignored me and
continued forward. When we reached the car, he picked me up and lifted me into
the back seat of the SUV before climbing in beside me. I tried to ignore my
body’s immediate response to the sensation of his firm thigh pressed against my
own.

“Dave,” Cat said to the bulky figure of his
minder. “Can you find Eddy for us and let him know I have Delilah in the car
outside? Make sure he makes it out here in one piece.” People were now peering
in the windows of the car.

“No one bothered me when I was with Eddy,”
I remarked.

“So the guy with his hands all over you,
and the circle of vultures waiting to move in if he struck out weren’t
bothering you?”

“I was only dancing.”

“If he’d only been dancing with you I’d
have left you alone. He touched you,” he growled. I was flummoxed, completely
lost for words as I looked at him, a warm sensation burning in my chest. The
moment was broken as Dave returned, announcing that Eddy was fine but wanted to
stay a little longer. I assumed it had something to do with the guy he’d been
dancing with.

Ten minutes later Cat had arranged for a
car to be waiting for Eddy whenever he wanted to go home, and Dave had returned
into the club to inform him.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Matt would never forgive me if anything
ever happened to him,” he admitted. “He’s like all our little brother.”

“He loves you guys too,” I said softly. I
lifted a hand and cupped his cheek, the vodka making me bold. He captured my
hand with his own and held it there. Another camera flashed against the window
of the car. These weren’t phones any longer, but full-on paparazzi.

“Where to, sir?” Dave asked, as he climbed
into the driving seat and started the engine.

“Home?” he said, looking to me for confirmation.
I nodded, feeling tired after all the excitement. I yawned and allowed Cat to
pull me against his side. I curled easily against him, liking the smell of his
leather jacket, combined with his aftershave, as it blended with the smell that
was uniquely his own. He wrapped his arm around me, his fingers gently tracing
through my hair and down my neck, lulling me gently into sleep as the day’s
events finally caught up with me.

I woke and stretched, my bladder insisting
I needed to get up soon. The room was bright, forcing me to blink repeatedly
until I could face the glare coming in through the curtainless windows. I must
have slept late. My head felt thick, but not overwhelmingly so, probably thanks
to the bottle of water that guy Dan had given me. Thoughts of him reminded me
of Cat’s arrival, which in turn reminded me I’d left Eddy at the club, along
with my jacket. I tried to sit up, wanting to check he got home okay, only to
realise I couldn’t move because something heavy across my chest was pinning me
to the bed. It took me a further second or two to realise I wasn’t in my own
room. Moments after that, as anxiety flooded through me, I realised the object
currently holding me to the bed was another person’s arm. Judging by the shape
and size it was a man’s. Heart in mouth I peered over at the man next to me,
and with a surprising amount of relief discovered it was Cat.

For a while I just stared at him. It almost
felt gluttonous as I lay there appreciating the spectacle of his bare torso
beside me, relaxed as he was. Even at rest his muscles were ripped, and the urge
to touch him took me by surprise. It was almost irresistible. Almost. My gaze
moved to his lips, and their gentle curve, surrounded by a haze of stubble. They
made me wonder what they’d feel like to kiss. I’d never really looked at a man’s
lips before… well, apart from Hardy’s.

Thoughts of Hardy had my good feelings
evaporating in seconds. What the hell was I doing here? I tried to recollect
how I’d ended up in Cat’s room but could remember nothing after climbing into
the car outside the club. From what I could tell I hadn’t had sex; there was
none of the discomfort I’d felt down below after that first time, and anyway I
was still wearing my dress. Cat on the other hand had far less on – just a
pair of briefs from what I could see from my current position. My bladder chose
that moment to reassert itself, reminding me I needed to pee – soon –
which presented something of a problem.

Slowly I attempted to roll out from
underneath the dead weight of Cat’s arm without waking him, making good
progress until at the last second I heard his breath catch. His hand slid down
my arm as I rolled the last foot, capturing my wrist firmly in his grasp. I
gasped at his touch.

“Going somewhere?”

“No… I mean…. Um… I have to pee.” I felt
embarrassed to look at him for some reason. Shy.

“Hey,” he said, sitting up and moving
behind me so my back was against his chest. It felt good. Intimate. “You have
nothing to be embarrassed about. You fell asleep in the cab. I was worried about
how much you’d drunk and wanted to make sure you weren’t sick in your sleep. I
just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I wasn’t that drunk,” I said indignantly,
turning to look at him.

“I know. It sounded like a good excuse,
though,” he admitted a little sheepishly. That made me smile.

“I really do need to pee,” I reminded him.

“In there,” he said, pointing at a door
across the room. “Will you come back to bed after?” He sounded
uncharacteristically uncertain as he asked.

“If I’m not getting in your way… stopping
you from doing things?”

“You’re not getting in my way,” he assured
me softly. I nodded at him, then stood up, feeling self-conscious in my dress
from the night before.

“Have you got a t-shirt I can borrow?” I
asked.

“Sure.” He got out of bed and walked over
to a chest of drawers, pulling one open and quickly choosing a black t-shirt
from the top. He threw it at me, and I caught it before scurrying into the
bathroom.

The t-shirt turned out to be an early Cold
Comfort one from their first album – Terrible Racket. It came nearly to my
knees – further than my dress. I washed my face, removing the last of the make-up
from around my eyes, and used some mouthwash I found on the side to tide me
over until I could brush my teeth properly. Feeling more myself, I finally
emerged.

“Did Eddy get home okay?” I asked,
remembering what had been bothering me this morning before Cat had distracted
me.

“Yeah, he came home about an hour after us.
He scored himself a date. Seemed pleased as punch about it too.” He patted the
bed beside him when I hesitated. “I asked my housekeeper to make us some
coffee. You do drink coffee in the morning, don’t you? I thought you did, but I
can change it for tea if you’d rather?”

“I drink coffee,” I assured him. “Can’t function
without it. But don’t you have lots to do? An album to write? You don’t have to
look after me. I don’t even have a hangover.”

“It’s a day off today.”

“Oh, really?” I said, surprised. I’d heard
nothing about it the day before. “Well, you’ve earned it. After that European
tour you just did you must be exhausted. I was impressed you were already
writing a new album. Especially when you’ve still got the American tour to do.”
I curled my knees up and pulled the t-shirt over them as I perched beside him.

“I just write when I feel the inspiration. There’s
no timetable.” I got that. I did the same.

A knock on the door had me sitting bolt
upright, suddenly embarrassed to be seen in here with Cat. “Yeah, come in,” Cat
rumbled beside me, and the door opened to reveal a woman around the same age as
my Mama, carrying a tray. I’d seen her around the house over the last few days
but hadn’t really spoken to her.

“I took the liberty of warming some croissants
to go with your coffee,” she told us as she walked over to the little table by
the window and placed it down. “You don’t eat enough,” she scolded Cat.

“If I ate everything you wanted me to, I’d
be monstrously overweight,” he said with a laugh.

“Well, you should eat more than you do. Anyway,
if you want anything else just call. I’m making a roast this evening for
everyone, so try and get up by then,” she said with a smile at me. I blushed at
her assumption we were intimate, but given I was sat in his bed wearing one of
his t-shirts it was reasonable enough to make. She closed the door with a click
behind her as Cat stood and walked to the table. “Coffee?” he asked.

“Please,” I said readily. My mouth was
watering at the prospect of a croissant. I hadn’t eaten much of substance the night
before, too full of vodka.

He poured a cup for me, adding some milk
when I nodded at his unspoken question, and then brought it over to me on the
bed, along with one of the warm buttery croissants. “You’re the one who needs
to eat more. I could hear your stomach rumbling from over by the window,” he said,
smiling. I blushed but took it from him eagerly, taking a big bite. It was
warm, with a pleasantly crisp outer layer but soft and buttery inside. I
groaned in pleasure. Cat had returned to the table to pour his own cup, but he
turned at the sound, his face hard to read but his body giving him away as he
looked at me.

He walked back towards the bed and slid in
beside me. In the time it had taken for him to take two bites of his croissant,
I had devoured my own and drained my coffee. I couldn’t help eyeing what was
left of his. “Bite?” he asked, smiling when I nodded eagerly. I leant forward,
my body brushing against his as he held it out for me, and took an enormous
bite, laughing guiltily when I had to cram part of it into my mouth with my
finger because I’d taken so much. He quickly put what was left of his croissant
into his own mouth. “Hungry girl,” he said, rolling onto his side and propping
himself up to look at me. His eyes ran over my body, now encased in his
t-shirt. “You look good in that,” he said. I couldn’t think what to say now the
mood seemed to have shifted from playful to something more intense. In the end
I said nothing and just looked at him. “You’ve got a crumb of croissant just…
there,” he said, reaching towards me and brushing something away from the
corner of my mouth. Reflexively I licked my lips to remove any other crumbs,
embarrassed to have him have to tell me. Instead of looking repulsed by me, his
eyes darkened as he watched my tongue sweep across my mouth. My breathing
caught as I looked up at his own lips. I knew he wanted to kiss me but wouldn’t
unless I asked him. I hesitated.

“Kiss me,” I heard myself say impulsively. His
eyes became enormous, the blue irises dwarfed by intensely dark pupils.

He rolled towards me, his body now pressed
against my own. “Are you sure?” he asked me, his voice slightly breathless. “I’m
not messing here, Delilah. Once we start this thing, there will be no stopping
it. No half measures. You’ll be mine. I want to possess you, I need to possess
you.”

His words both frightened and excited me at
the same time. “I don’t know,” I told him honestly. “I’m not very experienced
where all that’s concerned. I just know that right now I want you to kiss me.”

He rolled me over so I was flat on my back,
my hair fanned out around me, as he lay above me, his legs to one side of my body
but our chests pressed closely together. His hand stroked through my hair and
down my face. “You’re remarkable, Delilah,” he told me. “So beautiful, and you
don’t even seem to know it. Beautiful inside and out.” Then he leant in, before
I could respond, and kissed me.

I’d been kissed before – by Hardy, and
then by Robbie – but this was different. Maybe it was all the practice he’d
had, I thought cynically, but this guy was a master. His lips were light to
begin with, brushing against mine teasingly until it was me who pushed forward
seeking more. He responded, pressing more firmly until again I wanted to have an
even greater connection. My mouth opened, and immediately I felt his tongue
enter. It was intimate and erotic as we connected. He started to tease me,
pulling away and nibbling at my lips, tugging with his teeth until I’d lunge at
him again, needing to capture his mouth with my own. His stubble rubbed my
face, and my lips became swollen and tender, but I was reluctant to break the
contact for even a moment.

A deep ache formed within me. For the first
time I knew I was ready. I wanted him – all of him. He said he wanted to
possess me, and I wanted to be possessed. My knickers grew damp as my desire
ignited. I spread my legs to let him know what I wanted, that I needed him to
touch me there. Frustratingly he only continued to kiss me. Finally, just as I
thought I’d pop with pent-up desire, he pulled away. His breathing was rapid,
matching my own. He touched my now swollen lips and smiled. “That was a hell of
a first kiss.”

“I want more,” I told him.

“I do too,” he agreed quickly. “But I want
you to be sure. I want this to be different with you. I want to take it slow.
You’re not like the other girls I’ve fucked. I want you to be ready for me… for
us.”

“I need…” I stopped, lost for words as I
struggled to explain.

“I know what you need, baby,” he said, kissing
me again. This time his hands ran over my body, my breasts, my stomach and
finally where I wanted him. His fingers teased at the soft folds, finding and
feeling the most sensitive areas as if he were mapping them. A finger slipped
inside me and I gasped at the sensation. “So tight,” he breathed, pleased as he
began to plunge his finger in and out. My hips rose unbidden in response,
pushing for more. When his thumb returned to the sensitive area, I heard myself
groan deeply whilst his finger continued to press into me relentlessly. The
pressure rose within me, a force I both liked and feared as it grew in
intensity. I wanted it to stop but also feared that it might. Cat’s pace ebbed
and flowed, pushing me higher and then pulling back slightly, kissing me and
then watching as I writhed beneath him. When a second finger joined the first I
told him I couldn’t take any more. “Hold on, baby,” he whispered as he
increased the pressure. I crested the wave and then fell over the top in a
pulsing mass. I don’t know if I groaned or wailed or even screamed as I came. In
the moments afterwards, as my mind reconnected with the world around me, I felt
tearful and oddly vulnerable. I had never experienced anything like it before. Cat
gathered me into his arms and held me, pressing gentle kisses to the side of my
face as the sensitivity faded.

“Thank you,” I finally managed to say.

“Oh, babe, you have no idea how beautiful
you looked just then. Thank
you
.”

“I’ve never done that before,” I told him,
needing to explain what it meant to me.

“You’re a virgin?” he asked, surprised.

“No,” I said sadly, regretting that I wasn’t.
“Not a virgin, but I’ve never had an orgasm from a guy before. It was…” I was
lost for words for how to describe it.

“First of many,” he growled, with a look of
male satisfaction. “How is it that you had sex and the fucker didn’t even
bother to make sure you had an orgasm?” he asked.

“I just wanted it over with,” I explained. It
sounded tragically immature. “I’d promised to save myself for someone. He hurt
me. I guess I wanted to hurt him back, but I actually ended up just hurting
myself more.”

“It was one time?”

“One time.”

“And that’s it sexually?”

“That’s it. I’m sorry…” I began, ashamed
about my lack of experience.

“Nothing to be sorry about. I’m fucking
glad. It means you’re mine. That guy just got rid of the hymen. He did the painful
part for me. It means I get all your pleasure, and I mean all of it,” he
promised.