Every Touch (22 page)

   They had a routine.  Every day when Laila got home from work, she would curl up on the sofa with Denny and he would ask her how her day had gone.  The first time, she thought he was asking to be polite, but she quickly realised he really wanted to know.  It brought it home to her how isolating it was for him to be trapped in the building.  So she would tell him about anything interesting that had happened and he would listen and ask questions.  And if it had been a hard day, he would hold her and make her feel better. 

   She loved these times they spent together, talking.  She also loved when the words stopped and the kissing started, as it always did because they’d been apart for more than eight hours which felt like far too long. 

   The pen and pad he was holding dropped onto the coffee table and he nuzzled his face into her hair.  She smiled, turning her face to meet his.  It wasn’t long before she was on her back beneath him and he was nibbling gently on her ear.

   Denny’s lips had to be the most sensuous thing on earth and she was sure no-one could be more skilled than him in their use.  Laila tilted her head to one side and closed her eyes as he kissed his way down her neck, feeling herself sink deeper and deeper into delirious bliss. 

   While she wanted more than anything to be able to see and hear him, Laila was seeing the bright side of having to rely solely on touch with Denny.  When they were together, they were rarely out of contact.  The constant physical closeness may have been a factor in the rapid development of their relationship, she didn’t know.  What she did know was that she was more in love than she ever thought possible, felt closer to Denny than she had ever been to anyone, and she trusted him completely. 

   His hand moved to her leg, reaching under her skirt, drifting up her inner thigh.  She groaned and arched back into the sofa as his fingers pushed past the seam of her panties and stroked slowly between her thighs.  His talented lips were making their way down her chest to where his other hand was busy with unfastening her blouse.

   “Oh, Denny,” she groaned as he slipped one finger into her entrance, moving it lazily inside her.

   The blouse unfastened and pushed from her shoulders, he reached behind her to unclasp her bra and pulled the cups down from her breasts.  She felt his mouth close over the tip of one as they were exposed. 

   Her own hands were tangling in his hair as his lips and fingers worked their magic.  She closed her eyes, put her brain in neutral and enjoyed the ride.  Coherent thought was one of the first things to go when Denny had his hands on her and she didn’t miss it one bit. She moved herself restlessly against him and was rewarded with a second finger sliding inside her.  The burn was building, her breaths coming faster.  She ground her hips against his hand and he moved his face back up to her mouth.  He often kissed her when she came, as though he wanted to taste the sound of her pleasure.

   The pressure and urgency of his fingers increased, matching to the involuntary movements of her hips. His tongue thrust deep into her mouth and then spasms of fire were igniting within her and she was crying out against him over and over.

   He kept his lips against hers and his fingers inside her until her aftershocks subsided, then slowly withdrew.  She gasped for breath, her head lying back against the arm of the sofa. 

   She brushed her fingertips down his cheek.

   “I love you,” she breathed. 

   His lips touched to hers.  “I love you too.”

   She smiled at the feel of his words. 

   “Your turn,” she said, sliding her hands down his chest to the waistband of his jeans.

   The door intercom buzzer sounded.  Laila felt Denny’s head slump onto her shoulder.

  “They’ll go away,” she said.  “It’s probably just someone trying to sell me something anyway.” 

   She continued to unfasten the button on his jeans.  The buzzer sounded again.  Denny shook his head against her shoulder, kissed her and climbed off, lifting her feet so he could sit on the opposite end of the sofa.

   “Okay,” she said, sitting up, “but you stay right there while I tell them to go away and we will pick up where we left off.” 

   Smiling, she stroked her hand across the straining front of his jeans.  The buzzer sounded a third time. 

   “Yes, I’m coming,” she said in irritation, shaking her head as she stood.

   “It’s me.  You decent?”

   Laila was so surprised to hear her sister’s voice when she picked up the phone that she forgot to answer.  She looked down at herself, her clothes all dishevelled, blouse hanging open and bra resting around her waist, and almost burst into laughter.

   “Laila?”

   “Uh, Kelly, what are you doing here?”

   “Well, hello to you too.”

   “Sorry.  It’s just, you usually call before you come round.”

   “What’s the problem?  You have a man up there?”

   She could hear the joking tone of Kelly’s voice, but she nevertheless glanced over at the slight depression on the end sofa cushion where Denny was sitting.

  “I’ll let you in.”

   She pushed the button to open the front door. 

   “I’m sorry,” she said to Denny, quickly fastening her bra and buttoning her blouse. 

   She saw the dip in the sofa cushion vanish and seconds later Denny’s arms were sliding around her waist from behind and he was kissing the side of her neck.  She smiled and turned round, taking his head in her hands and kissing his lips slowly.  She groaned as she pulled back. 

   “My sister has the worst timing.”  She felt him tap her wrist once and she laughed.

   Reluctantly moving away from him, she went to the bedroom to check herself in the mirror.

   “Oh no,” she said, looking at her dishevelled appearance, flushed face and messy hair.  There was no mistaking what she’d just been doing.

   She grabbed a hairbrush and ran it through the tangles, then tried to pull her clothes straight.  Her skin was the biggest problem.  She ran back into the living room to the fridge, opened it and stuck her face into the cool interior.  There was a knock at the door.

   “Just a minute,” she yelled, frantically wafting cold air at herself with her hands.  She grabbed a can of drink and pressed it to one cheek and then the other, squeaking at the sudden cold against her hot skin.  

   Hoping it was enough, she put the can back and closed the fridge.  After taking a deep breath and running her palms down the front of her blouse, she unlocked the door.

   “Finally.  I’m getting old out here...” Kelly stopped abruptly and looked at Laila.

   “What?” she said, feigning innocence and looking down at herself.

   Kelly walked in, saying, “Hmm,” and looked around.  Having given the living room the once over, she walked into the bedroom and Laila heard the bathroom door open and then close again a second later.  She wasn’t absolutely sure, but she thought she heard the wardrobe door too. 

   Denny’s hand slipped into hers and he lifted it up, kissing her palm then letting go when Kelly re-entered the living room.

   “What on earth are you doing?” Laila said, trying not to smile at the feel of his hand stroking down her spine. 

   “I just... you look...” Kelly trailed off.  “Are you alone?”

   “No, you’re here.”

   “Funny.  No, I mean were you alone before I arrived?”

   Kelly looked back at the bedroom door and Laila stifled a gasp as Denny’s hand reached her ass and squeezed.  She was very glad they hadn’t yet made it to the bedroom.  At least the bedclothes weren’t messed up.

   “Of course I was.  Why would you think I wasn’t?  Do you want a drink?”

   “Lemonade, thanks.”

   She moved away from Denny’s mischievous hands and went to the fridge.

   “You just look...” Kelly paused.  “Never mind.  So, how’s things?”

   Her voice was a little too bright for Laila’s liking.  She was immediately suspicious.  Kelly took the glass of lemonade she handed to her and went to sit on one end of the sofa.

   “Fine,” Laila said as she settled on the other end and sipped from her own glass.

   “How’s the library?”

   “Fine.”

   “Social life?”

   “Fine.”  Kelly knew very well she didn’t have a social life.

   “Really?”

   “Kelly, what do you want?” 

   She could always tell when her sister was on a mission.  It was never a good thing.

   Kelly placed her glass onto a slate coaster on the coffee table.  “I’m worried about you.”

   Laila slumped back against the cushions behind her.  “You’re always worried about me.”

   “I’m your big sister.  That’s my job.  But this is more than worry.  This is concern.”

   Laila sighed.  “What are you concerned about?”

   “I know how difficult it’s been for you since Gary and I’m so proud of you for the way you’ve been able to keep going after what he did.  It’s just, you’re stuck here, alone in this flat all the time you’re not at work.  It’s not healthy.  You need to get out and meet people.  You were so outgoing before, but now...  I had hoped you would go back to being the old you when you got your own place, but it’s been six months and now you’re not even coming out with me.  I’m just really concerned.”

   Laila was cursing herself.  She’d been so wrapped up with Denny, always wanting to be with him, that she had been making excuses the last couple of weeks to not go out with Kelly.  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see her sister, but lately Kelly had started taking her to places where there would be a lot of single men, wanting Laila to meet someone.  Before, it had just been mildly irritating.  She knew she meant well, but the idea of being hit on with Denny waiting for her at home had become repulsive.  Now her reluctance was coming back to haunt her.

   “What is this, an intervention?” she said.

   “No.  Okay, yes, a bit.  Look, there’s this doctor at the hospital, don’t roll your eyes, just hear me out.  He’s thirty, gorgeous, funny, intelligent, sweet.  I told him about you and he’s really interested.”

   Laila was suddenly angry.  “You told him about me?  What did you say?  That your poor, pathetic, spinster sister needed a date?”

   Kelly sat back and frowned.  “Of course not.”

   “I don’t need you setting me up!”

   “I just want you to be happy, Lai.”

   “I am happy,” she snapped.

   “What, sitting indoors on your own all the time?”

   “I’m not on my own!”  It came out before she could think and she regretted it as soon as she’d spoken. 

   Kelly looked at her in surprise.  “What do you mean, you’re not on your own?”

   Laila was panicking.  Why had she said that? 

   “I just meant I see people at the library.”  It sounded unconvincing, even to her.

   “You are the worst liar ever.  What’s going on?” 

   Kelly was like a dog with a bone once she got her mind onto something.  Laila knew she wasn’t going to let this go.

   “I met someone,” she said.

   Kelly’s face lit up.  “Really?  When?  Where?  Who is he?”

   It was like the Spanish inquisition, only more inquisitive.  Laila knew she was going to have to tread carefully. 

   “I met him a month ago.  We’re seeing each other.”

   “Yes?  And?”

   “And what?”

   Kelly rolled her eyes.  “Do we have to do this the hard way?  What’s his name?”

   Laila hesitated.  Would that be safe to tell her?  Should she lie?  She immediately discounted that option, too much danger of making a mistake later on. 

   “Denny.”

   “What’s he like?”

   She couldn’t prevent the smile from creeping onto her face.  “He’s funny and intelligent and caring and gorgeous.”  She felt Denny lay his hand on her shoulder and her smile grew.  “He has light reddish brown hair and the most beautiful blue eyes and he’s tall and sexy and...”  She stopped abruptly, looking back at Kelly, realising she was getting carried away.

   Kelly’s hand was over her mouth, her eyes teary.  “Oh my goodness,” she said, her voice trembling, “you’re in love.”

   Laila looked down and nodded and before she knew it Kelly had launched herself across the sofa and was hugging her, making her laugh.  It felt good to tell someone about Denny, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.

   “Why didn’t you tell me about him?  When can I meet him?”

   And just like it was difficult again.

  “You can’t meet him.”

   Kelly frowned.  “Why not?  Oh Laila, he isn’t married, is he?”

   “No!” Laila said, appalled. “Of course not.  It’s just complicated.”  It’s the
mother
of all complicated.

   “How is it complicated?”

   “All I can tell you is he is a wonderful man who loves me and makes me very happy. Please, Kel, just trust me and leave it at that.”

   Kelly regarded her for a few seconds.  “Okay, I trust you.  I don’t understand, but I trust you.  You are safe, aren’t you?”