Freeing Alex (10 page)

“We need to lose these.” His thumbs slip inside the elastic
of my knickers. Slowly he crouches down, pulling the soft white cotton with him
as he goes. Once he gets to my ankles he lifts each one slowly, removing the
offending garment and casting it aside.

What the hell am I doing? I’m standing in front of this fine
man, who until just a few weeks ago was a stranger. I’m naked and he’s walking
around me like I’m a prize cow at a cattle market.

“These,” he says as he cups my breasts with his hands, “are
exquisite.” His hands move gently down to my hips as walks around to my back,
dragging his hands lightly over my skin as he goes, up across my ribs and down
to my backside and back to my front. The feeling’s intoxicating. I quiver
inwardly and feel so desperate, longing to be touched. “You have a fine figure,
Alex.”

“Umm, it’s not perfect,” I mutter, looking down.

“Venus didn’t have a perfect figure!” he retorts. “You’ve a
fine figure. You say it, Alex!”

“I… I can’t,” I say flatly.

“Say it!” he demands as he slowly runs his index finger
between my breasts and down my stomach, continuing until he reaches my
c-section scar. “Say it, Alex!”

“I… I’ve a fine figure,” I whisper, my head hung down
looking at the floor.

“Look at me!” He places a finger under my chin and lifts my
face so that I am looking directly at him. His mouth twitches into a slight
smile. “You’re stunning, Alex Drake, you’ll do well to remember that!” He
sounds like my old school teacher.

“Come here, come with me.” He leads me to the edge of my bed
and turns me around, gently pressing my shoulders, forcing me to sit on the
side. “Lie down,” he says as he picks my feet up and pulls them up so that that
I’m lying on top of the crumpled duvet, unmade since I woke earlier, my head
resting on the soft pillows.

I don’t fight it. I comply willingly, feeling so very turned
on. He stands, just looking at me. I feel so vulnerable, lying bare with him
just staring at me. He walks around to the other side of the bed, not taking
his eyes off me, and then crawls over, lying down beside me. He cups my face,
and brings his face towards mine so that our foreheads touch.

“You deserve the best, Alex, only the best,” he whispers.
“How long has it been since anyone touched you?”

I look at him. I don’t know what to say. I say nothing.

“Alex, how long has it been since you had any kind of sexual
contact?” he whispers.

I can’t bear to look at him. I turn away. “Years.”

“Have you missed being touched?” He shifts slightly, his
fingers trailing little flicks across my hip. I quiver.

“Yes, yes, I’ve missed it,” I hiss, feeling so wanton.

I look at him. Part of me wants this so desperately and part
of what he’s doing makes me feel like a whore. I hardly know him. Is he taking
advantage of me? If he is, do I really care? Is this how Lewis treated his
slappers? I’ve already told myself that my life needs to move on, I need to
begin again. I can do this, I really can.

I’m breathing heavily, wanting this and yet not. Will this
ruin the relationship I have with him? What if Anna comes in? Oh, I don’t know
if this is right!

“Open your legs,” he says. He’s just lying next to me, no
touching, just giving these orders and yet it feels so amazingly erotic.

“Are you wet yet, Alex?” he growls. Just his voice, what
he’s saying, the words alone make me feel… Oh God.

“Yes,” I moan.

“That’s good, that’s really good.” He shifts himself, his
lips upon my stomach, little flicks of his tongue around my belly button, then
he traces the faint scar of my c-section.

“This isn’t hideous. This is a medal of honour… This shows
that you have given life… Remember that, Alex!” His tone is so firm.

His hands drift slowly further down across my mound and into
the tangle of fair curls. His fingers part my lips and his runs his forefinger
across my clitoris. “Oh, so wet.” He circles his finger ever so lightly. It’s
been so long since anyone has touched me there, it feels so good. I moan,
writhing against his touch.

“Is that good?” His voice is low, gravelly and so sensual.
He’s smiling.

“Umm.”

He moves his finger down a little and gently slips it inside
me.

“So tight! It
has
been a long time.” He kisses my
stomach again. I whimper as he withdraws and slips back in two fingers, his
thumb circling my clit all of the time.

He builds a rhythm, fucking me with his fingers and I gasp,
whimpering at his touch as he pleasures me unselfishly. It doesn’t take long
before I’m teetering on the edge, and I think he knows.

He leans forward, his lips brush my ear. “Are you there,
Alex?”

I whimper in response.

He increases his thrusts again and I fall apart, my muscles
clenching his fingers, drawing them in. He keeps going through my climax until
I’m completely spent, a quivering mess. He pulls his arms around me and holds
me tightly as I grip hard onto his shoulders, my nails digging into him through
his shirt, the effects of the orgasm petering out so slowly, my first in years.
I take a deep breath, pulling myself together, and he looks at me.

“Good?” he mumbles against my cheek.

“Umm,” I gasp, I can’t speak.

“Turn over,” he demands, and despite being utterly spent, I
do.

He moves himself again and straddles my thighs, placing his
hands on my shoulders, and using the most exquisite movements he massages my
back and spine. The feeling is delicious, his magic fingers working down my
body, past my scars and back up again.

“These,” he delicately runs his fingers over the brand and
iron scar that Lewis so cruelly left, “tell me that you’re a fighter,
determined to carry on… Of course, in the case of these you really should have
left him, but for the sake of your daughter you carried on. They are not to be
ashamed of, consider them battle scars, in a battle that you will ultimately
win.”

I lie still, thinking about his words. My scarred body, each
scar telling a story – one happy, two bad. But he’s right, they’re battle scars
and although the battle is long, uphill and hard, I
will
win! I think
about Maggie, my mother, the woman who gave me life and then gave me up. She
was never far away and even though she only gave me relatively small material
things while she lived, in death she gave me the capital and the reason to
leave that bastard of a husband of mine. How did she and my mum know what he
was like? I don’t think I ever gave any of them any idea; she certainly never
saw him in a rage, neither did my mum, I kept it firmly to myself. Mum always
said that things always work out in the end, things turn around and no matter
how bad they are, they will be good again.

I wiggle around onto my back and look at the gorgeous man
sitting above me. “Thank you,” I mouth.

He bends towards me and places the most delicious, sensuous
kiss on my lips. “You’re welcome.” He lies next to me, cuddling me, giving me
the love that I have so badly missed, been deprived of over the years.

“Thank you,” I whisper again in his ear, “for everything.”

He squeezes me tight. We just lie there wrapped in each
other’s arms, me naked and him fully clothed, still in his black trousers and
white shirt that he brought me home in yesterday.

I don’t know how long we’ve been lying together when I
glance at the clock. “Shit – it’s nine!” I jump out of his arms and off the
bed. Hurtling through to my bathroom, I turn on the shower and brush my teeth
again whilst the shower warms up. James follows.

“What’s the rush?” He looks through the glass screen.

I shrug. I have no idea, but it’s nine o’clock.
Why
is he watching me shower?

“Mind if I jump in?” He starts to remove his shirt. I glance
around, shocked at the suggestion that he’s going to get in the shower in front
of me! My God, he’s ripped, those abs, bloody hell. The trousers come down
next, no boxers or briefs, commando! Now, there’s something I’ve not witnessed
firsthand before. Hell, I am so na
ï
ve! And
look at that, that thing!

He’s no inhibitions. He pushes his trousers to the floor and
steps out of them, his manhood erect and aiming straight for me as he stands in
front of me in my walk-in shower. He grabs my arms and pulls me to his embrace.
I can feel his raging hard
thing
pressing against my stomach. He is
so
fine. I look down and see the tiny bead of pre-cum at the tip of the soft
round head.

“Come with me,” he growls as he pulls me further into the
shower. He holds me tightly as we both stand under the rainfall shower.
Wrapping his hands around my waist, he lets them fall to my backside. We’re
both soaked. He cups my arse and pulls me up against the wall.

“Wrap your legs around me.” He doesn’t do requests, he
issues commands. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close, his lips
find mine, and we kiss passionately as his tongue invades my mouth. He pulls me
higher and gently nudges his cock towards my opening, then he thrusts.

“God. You’re so fucking tight,” he grumbles.

I quiver and moan. It’s been so long since I’ve had sex that
the invasion feels alien, I feel so very full. He moves his mouth to my neck
where he places little kisses down towards my collar bone. He pumps into me,
establishing a slow rhythm. I feel overwhelmed and wanted, his cock gently
massaging that little bunch of nerves inside me.

 “I feel, I…” I’m gasping.

“I know,” he grumbles, “I know, but wait,” he demands,
working himself faster and deeper into me, until on one last push he shouts,
“Now!”

I explode around him. He keeps on moving, emptying himself
completely, and he stays inside me. We’re wrapped around each other; finally he
withdraws, semi-erect, and places a sensuous kiss upon my lips. We just stand,
holding each other for a moment, the water caressing us both. I don’t want to
move but know that I must. I turn and reach for my shampoo.

“Give it to me.” He takes the shampoo off me and squirts a
dollop into his hand, lathering it into my hair, his fingers giving such an
intense head massage that it puts my hairdresser’s attempts to shame. 

“Rinse,” he says as he guides me under the shower, repeating
the process with the conditioner before washing his own hair. He reaches for
the shower puff and pours some of my favourite coconut shower gel into it. He
washes my body, gently and thoroughly. “Rinse,” he says again, I could get used
to this! I rinse the soap suds away and he slaps my arse. “You’re done!” He
laughs. “Off you go!”

I walk out of the shower, giving him a stare as I do. I grab
a couple of towels from the rack, wrapping my hair in one and drying off with
the other. He turns the shower off and flaps his hand out from behind the screen.
“Got a towel, please?”

Oh! We’re saying please now, are we? I hand him one and he
wraps it around his waist. As he steps out I can’t take my eyes off his broad
shoulders that taper down to his narrow waist, down further still… Oh God, I
don’t think I could ever get fed up of looking at his physique!

He dresses, same clothes as yesterday, and as I cream my
legs he walks over and plants a kiss on my back. “I’ll go and make breakfast.”
It’s not a question, a statement – I’m beginning to think it’s all he’s capable
of.

“We’ve just had breakfast! Anna will be getting up soon,
she’s doesn’t normally wake until I’ve left the house.” My thoughts race to
Katie. “Shit, I forgot, her friend’s coming to stay for a few days, arrives
tomorrow… I need to arrange for her to be picked up from Euston.” I start to
flap.

“Don’t worry about that now, don’t worry about anything,
Alex. I’ll sort it out. And
we
didn’t have breakfast because
you
didn’t eat. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you do know that,
don’t you? And anyway, it’s good for you.” He looks at me seriously.

I ignore his sarcastic comment. “Oh! I’ll be down in
twenty.” I comb my wet hair as he leaves the bathroom and I hear him leave my
room and head downstairs.

I join James in the kitchen. I’ve
dressed in jeans and a striped shirt. He’s made more coffee and a fresh pot of
tea for me, there’s also a bowl of Weetabix with a couple of strawberries
waiting for me.

“Weetabix? I didn’t even know we had any?” I look at the
nicely presented cereal.

“It’s good for you – eat up.” He smiles.

“I know it’s good for me. We have a very healthy diet,
didn’t you notice the skimmed milk and heaps of fruit in the fridge? Very
little red meat as well, bet you didn’t see that?” I jest as I bite a
strawberry from the stem.

He just watches me.

“You don’t eat strawberries like that!” He walks over
towards me, barefoot, of course. That really does something for me, barefoot
James, I like it! Picking a particularly large strawberry from the punnet, he
checks it over before rinsing it and bringing it towards my lips.

“Open,” he instructs.

“This is the best way to eat a strawberry.” He presses the
strawberry to my lips. I take it between my teeth and bite; the fruit is sweet
and juicy, the juice running down my chin. He bends over to me and kisses the
juice away.

“See,” he smiles, “that’s the
best
way to eat
strawberries.” I quiver inside, my nether regions hungering to be touched
again. He’s right, of course, this is the best way. 

I hear Anna coming downstairs. “Anna’s here,” I whisper. He
moves away quickly and takes a seat at the other side of the island. I feel
like a teenager sneaking around my mum’s house with a boy!

“Morning, Mum, are you feeling better this morning?” She
comes towards me, giving me a hug.

“I’m fine thanks, sweetheart – just a blip.” I smile at her
and then at James, he winks. Inwardly I wish we were here on our own.

“You worried me, Mum… I had no idea what… what Dad, what he
did. Why?” It’s clear she wants to know
why
. Hell, it’s a question I’d
like to know the answer to as well.

“It’s just the way he is, but I’m away now, something I wish
I’d had the courage to do years ago.” I hold her hand, looking directly at her,
hiding nothing. Tears fill her eyes.

“Oh Mum, I can’t believe what he did.” She hugs me again.
“I’m not going to see him any more, never again. I can’t.”

“Well, that’s up to you, you must do what you want. I won’t
stop you if you want to go, I don’t think he’d ever hurt you, but you must make
your own decisions.” I stop talking and just look at her. “All I will say is if
you do see him, please, just be careful and don’t ever let him know that you
know about… about this.” I indicate towards my back.

She looks at James. “Thank you for looking after Mum. Have you
been here all night?”

“Yes, I stayed… just in case. Your mum was in a pretty bad
way. You weren’t too good yourself either!” He takes a drink of his coffee,
looking so incredibly handsome as he sits at my island, sleeves rolled up, the
collar of his shirt open, and barefoot.

“I know. I was just so shocked.” She helps herself to a
strawberry. “I’m okay. Can we spend some time together?” She looks at me. “I’ve
love to go shopping, have lunch out.”

“I hadn’t planned on going to the hotel today anyway. We can
do some retail therapy, might do us good. Maybe James can meet us for lunch? We
could eat at the hotel, just pop in. It’s easier doing that!” I look at him for
approval, although I don’t know why I need it, it just seems the right thing to
do.

“Yes, I suppose. I’ve loads of work that I need to get on
with in the office today, but I’m sure I can spare some time to take two lovely
ladies for lunch. Let me know what time.” He stands. “Listen, ladies, I have to
go. I’ve no fresh clothes here and I need to change before I go to work. I’ll
grab my shoes and be out of your way.” He makes a start towards the kitchen
door.

My heart sinks,
he’s going
, I sigh. I know he has to,
really. “How are you going to get back to wherever you’re staying?” I ask.

“I’ll get a cab at the end of the road,” he says flippantly.

“No, take the Audi. I won’t be driving the thing today, not
if I’m shopping!” I stand and reach for the keys and place them in his hand,
brushing my fingertips across his palm.

“You’re sure?” he asks with a smile.

“Certain. If I need you, if
we
need you, we’ll call,
I promise. We’ll ring you later this morning, let you know what time for
lunch.” I hold onto his hand, really not wanting to let go.

“That’s fine then… sorted.” He walks towards the front door
and I follow him. He slips his boots on and as he opens my shiny black door he
turns to me and I kiss him lightly. “Thank you again,” I whisper, “for
everything – and I mean
everything.
”

“My pleasure.” He smiles, that ultra sexy smile, his deep
voice sending shivers through me.

I wave him off and return to Anna. 

“That’s a bit cosy,” she mumbles. “Is he moving himself in?”

I start to tidy the breakfast things away. “No, he’s just
been really helpful.” 

“Oh,” she says as she plays with her cereal. “Well, I like
him. He seems like fun. I’ll go and get ready and we can hit the shops.”

“Okay, take your time, we’ve all day.” She likes him, does
she? Well, I suppose it helps, not that it matters – I’m sure last night was a
one-off, and this morning.

We arrive in Central London, having walked the mile or so
from the house. I enjoyed our gentle stroll, the exercise will do us both good.

Our first stop is Harvey Nichols. Anna wants new jeans,
apparently, although I seem to remember a pair of Hollister jeans were
purchased only a couple of weeks ago, but now she needs a pair of “7 For All
Mankind”, from some article she’s read, I’ve no doubt. I, on the other hand,
need a complete new wardrobe, having left half of my things at what we now term
“Dad’s house”. The clothes that I brought to London with me are all quite old,
mainly budget to mid-range clothing and what Anna is now calling “old lady
clothes”. She tells me that now we have sufficient funds I should be dressing
in the likes of Armani and McQueen!

She tries on various pairs of jeans and eventually settles
for a pair of regular skinny but then decides she wants the lace print ones
too. I agree, of course, being the sucker of a mother that I am. She then
concedes that it’s my time to shop. Since I inherited my fortune the only
things that I’ve bought purely for myself are my car and a few absolute
essentials to replace things that I left at
Dad’s
house.

We peruse the various departments and I pick out a handful
of dresses, a couple of separates and a load of t-shirts. The jeans I have are
fine, although my daughter disagrees. After a mammoth trying-on session, which
I allow Anna to join me in for the first time ever, I’ve settled for six new
dresses, a couple of summer skirts and a beautiful Michael Kors leather pencil
skirt. I’ve also thrown in a couple of fabulous cocktail dresses – I’ve no idea
why I’ve chosen to buy these, no idea at all, but I like them, so there! Next
stop: underwear.

As we make our way to the lingerie department I glance at my
watch. “Shit, Anna, it’s 11.45!” I look at my watch again, making sure I’ve
read it correctly. “We’ll be quick, just grab a couple of bras and some new
knickers,” I tell her as I attempt to whizz around the department.

“Mum,” Anna whinges, “with those dresses you’ll need thongs,
not knickers! Gran wore knickers…
You’ve
got a drawer full of plain
white cotton things, get something sexy, it’s not like you haven’t got the
figure for it – hell, Mum, some of my school friends are bigger than you!”

She’s right, I suppose, I’ve spent the last twenty-two years
being frumpy, because that’s how Lewis liked me to dress. We reach the lingerie
section and I literally grab two Elle Macpherson bras, matching thongs – as my
daughter insisted – and several pairs of pretty knickers. I can always come
back and get more. I really wanted to pick something up for James, he was so
kind yesterday but I just don’t have time right now, damn.

As neither of us knows London particularly well I stop a
cab, telling the driver that we want to go to Reid’s in Covent Garden. He
obliges and we’re soon being driven as quickly as London allows, through the
streets destined for the hotel.

I fumble for my phone in the bottomless bag. “I’ll call
James, let him know we’re on our way.” Anna just looks at me and rolls her
eyes. She’s a bright young thing, no flies on that one, she
must
have an
idea of what’s happening.

I scroll down my contacts and find James on speed dial. I
tap his number and he answers on the third ring.

“Hi Lover,” he growls.

“Sssh!” I smile. “I’m with Anna… We’re on our way, see you
in a few minutes.”

“Where are you now?” he asks.

“In a taxi, just left Harvey Nichols.”

He laughs. “Oh, verrry nice, bought much?” I bet he’s
visions of us landing at the hotel loaded down with shopping bags; he really
doesn’t know me that well if that what he’s thinking.

“Oh, just a few dresses and things, it’s a nice store.” I
look at Anna, she bought more than me.

“Nice! It’s fucking fantastic. I’ll see you in a minute or
two.” He laughs.

Once I’ve cleared James’s call I look back at my daughter.
She’s frowning at me. “We need another car, Mum. The Audi’s stupid, you can
only fit two people in it and you won’t drive it anyway. It was a waste of
money!” She’s snarky.

I wonder where her sudden interest in the car has come from,
she’s never bothered about cars before.

“Oh, come on, Anna, it’s only once in a while. You never
grumbled about the old car when we lived with your dad, you remember the one
that died as we arrived in London?” I remind her how we spent the last few
years driving around in the old Ford that was only marginally better than a car
you may find in a scrap heap!

We’re soon pulling up outside of the hotel. I pay the driver
and leave the taxi, complete with our bags.

We’re greeted by the concierge who comes down the steps and
offers to take our shopping. “Good afternoon, Mrs Drake, can I store these for
you?”

“Yes, thank you.” I hand our bags over. “I’m sorry, you’ll
have to remind me of your name,” I say, trying to read the name badge which has
become slightly obscured by a lapel.

He smiles at me. “I’m Sam, your concierge.” 

“Oh Sam, I’m sorry, still getting to grips with names. This
is Anna, my daughter.”

He tips his hat at my daughter. “Pleased to meet you, Miss
Drake.” 

We move into the hotel, across the foyer. “He’s very
polite,” Anna whispers.

I just look at her. “Of course he’s polite, it’s his job to
be!”

We make our way across the foyer and towards the restaurant.
From a distance I can see Marcus is on duty again.

“We’ll go straight to the restaurant. Marcus is on duty –
he’s the restaurant manager, he’s also very polite!” I look at my daughter who
just smiles sarcastically back at me.

We approach the archway and we’re greeted by the gushing
Marcus, exactly as he was yesterday. “Hello, Mrs Drake. Are you eating with us
again today?”

“Yes, Marcus. This is my daughter, Anna. James is also
joining us, if you are able to seat us, that is?”

“Of course, well, it would be a fine thing if the owner
can’t eat in her own hotel, wouldn’t it!” He gives us a little laugh – creep!

“This looks nice,” Anna comments as she follows Marcus to a
table in a quiet corner.

“You wait until you try the food, sweetheart, it’s amazing,”
I say, hoping that she likes it as much as I do.

“Oh, the restaurant here is very good, we pride ourselves on
only serving the best,” the pompous Marcus says to Anna, eavesdropping our
conversation.

We sit and I ask Marcus to bring us a bottle of white wine.
I ask him to choose a suitable one, dryish and easy drinking. I feel really
well today, much better than I’ve done for a long time. I know that by sharing
my secret the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders, the
restraint I have felt for the last twenty or so years is gradually being picked
away, allowing me to be
me
again, coupled with the fact that James and
I… Well, it was good and I feel… I feel, well… liberated!

We’re soon joined by James, who kisses both Anna and myself
lightly on the cheek. He’s wearing his dark suit again, I wonder if he’s only
the one. It wouldn’t surprise me with the stupidly low salary that Maggie had
him on, but whatever, he looks stunning, as usual. I am convinced that he would
look fantastic in a hessian sack!

Marcus returns with a dark green bottle of wine and proceeds
to remove the cork. He gently pours a little into my glass and asks me to
taste, of course I have no idea if it’s good or not, my usual tipple comes from
Tesco! However, I humour him and test a little. “It’s nice,” I say.

“Nice?” he questions, his eyebrows appearing to do some sort
of dance on his forehead.

I look up at the rotund man. “Yes, it’s nice. Is there a
problem?”
Have I offended him?

“Oh, no, no, Mrs Drake… no problem. Shall I pour?” He looks
like he’s about to burst into tears!

“Please.” What’s wrong with him? All I said was the wine was
nice.

“And for you?” He looks at Anna.

“Yes, please,” she says.

He looks at Anna and then at me. “How old are you, if I may
ask?” 

“Marcus.” I take a deep breath. “Anna is eighteen. Please
pour her a glass of wine.”

I really don’t know what to make of Marcus, and I begin to
think if I like him or not, I’ve no doubt he’s good at his job, but huh! Once
he’s filled our glasses he leaves, but not before he’s given me a sort of bow.
What’s all that about?

“What’s wrong with old sour puss?” I look at James. “Asking
how old Anna is.”