Freeing Alex (13 page)

I shuffle, maybe a little uncomfortable. Michelle quite
obviously knows a lot more than anyone else. “Don’t worry.” I laugh a little.
“It seems that lots of people know stuff about me that I don’t know. What do
you know?” I laugh again. “Come on, I’ve had several shocks over the last few
months, one more won’t hurt!”

“I don’t know if I should, it’s all very personal, family
business.” She frowns at me and then looks down at her drink.

“I need to know, Michelle, please tell me… There are so many
gaps!” I ask, hoping that this woman will tell me about “me”.

She stirs her drink again, although I’m sure it’s already
been stirred sufficiently well. She pauses. “I don’t want to say anything that
may cause more distress.” She sighs.

“Well, shall I start the ball rolling?” I look directly at
her. “I know that Maggie was my birth mother,” I blurt out. 

Michelle looks at me. She nods and smiles. “I know exactly
who you are, I know you’re Maggie’s girl. She told me all about you just before
she died. I visited her in the hospice, she was so very frail at the end, it
was almost… almost like, I don’t know, some sort of deathbed confession. She
said that she’d had a baby girl forty-two years ago but her career was going
places and she didn’t think she had the room for a child in her life.” Michelle’s
tone is even, there’s no judgment there at all.

“Oh,” I whisper, “what else did she say?”

“I asked her what she did with the baby and she said that
her sister had adopted her. She still had regular contact but rarely saw the
child, said that it was too painful.”

“I bet it was!” I hiss.

“She loved you, Alexandra. She told me that… that you were
set to inherit the lot, everything, and that you would be coming along to meet
me when she passed, hey! She was right, wasn’t she, ‘cause here you are.” She
laughs.

I smile. Yes, I like this woman, she seems so genuine. 

“I don’t have any friends, Maggie was lucky. Well, I say I
don’t have any friends, I suppose I’ve made friends with James, he’s been
really helpful and kind, but no – there’s just me and Anna.” I must sound so
sad – no friends!

She places her cup on the table. “Maggie said that your life
wasn’t the best, she said your mum knew what your husband was like. She didn’t
say how she knew, but that you wouldn’t or couldn’t leave him and had never
discussed leaving him, that you were a silly girl!” Michelle speaks quietly, as
if she doesn’t feel comfortable relaying this information, her focus elsewhere
in the room, looking at anything rather than me.

“Umm, well, if she’d showed me her hand before all this happened,
told me who I really was, maybe, just maybe, she could have helped me before,”
I snipe.

I look at Michelle. She’s clearly distressed, still upset by
Maggie’s passing. “I don’t know, Alexandra. I don’t know the ins and outs, only
what she told me.” She does her best to defend Maggie, her friend. 

I feel I need to apologise to Michelle for snapping at her,
it’s not her fault. “I’m sorry, Michelle, I shouldn’t have said that, it’s not
your fault.”

She smiles, her blue eyes twinkling, and she nods at me as
she sips her drink.

I stand and walk to get my shirt from the hanger, and
without thinking, possibly because I’m still half asleep or because of what
I’ve just heard about my birth mother, I drop the robe to put my shirt on.

“Oh Good Lord!” Michelle draws a sharp breath. “Your back!”

“Shit!” I quickly grab my shirt and shove my arms into the
sleeves, pulling it up over my back as quickly as possible.

“Sorry, Michelle, you shouldn’t have seen that.” I fumble
with the buttons.

I look at her, she looks horrified. “She said he was a
monster… but, did he do that?” She points at my back.

“Umm.” I look away, avoiding eye contact.

“Alexandra, did he do that?” she asks again.

“He did,” I say flatly hoping that she’ll drop the subject.

“Maggie will turn in her grave – she will, I know for sure
if she knew about this she wouldn’t have left you, definitely. You poor, poor
girl!” She’s clearly shocked and maybe a little upset, although she doesn’t
know me, well, not really.

I look at her. She looks horrified, her blue eyes no longer
sparkling, they look dull and sad. This is the very reason I don’t like people
to know, so that I don’t have their pity, I don’t
need
their pity. “Does
anyone else know?” she asks.

“Only James and Anna.” I look down, tying the belt of the
robe.

“James?” she questions, her head slightly to one side.
Clearly she’s questioning the reasons for James having seen my back, then she
smiles, there’s a twinkle in her eye.

“Yes, I had an… an episode before. James was there, he
helped and when I went home he helped me into bed. He saw, then Anna found out.
Up until then, no, nobody else knew.”

She looks at me, just looks. “You poor love!”

I can see why Maggie had Michelle as a friend – she’s
lovely, so kind and caring. She stands to leave.

“I’ll go now, Alexandra, leave you to rest, but my office is
next but one to James if you need anything, or just want to talk. Come and find
me, please?” She smiles as she goes, she’s such a kind face.

“I will do. But before you go, Michelle, tell me about
James,” I ask.

“What do you want to know? About his love life?” She laughs.
“That’s what everyone else asks.”

“Yes, I do. Because, well… because. Please tell me, do I
need to worry about anything?” I ask, because she clearly knows that something
must have gone on for him to have seen my back.

“You’ve nothing to worry about. They chase him a lot, I
mean, who wouldn’t? He goes out clubbing, I think, perhaps gets involved in a
bit of smooching from what I can gather, they think it’s the big “come on” but
he’s a gentleman, you do know that, don’t you?” She looks at me, smiling.

“I think so, and yes, he
is
a gentleman. But what
about the girls that visit him here?” I ask, frowning.

“Ah, I see.” She places a hand on my shoulder. “
You’ve
listened to the receptionists. Ignore them, it’s wishful thinking on their
behalf. Whoever you’ve seen or heard about leaving the place, well, they’ve
just tried their luck, that’s all. Ask Roger, he must escort out two or three a
week. Nothing happens, Alexandra, nothing, you have my word.” She smiles and
moves towards the door.

“One thing, Michelle,” I say quietly.

“Yes.”

“
Please
don’t tell anyone about… about this, my back.
I really don’t want anyone else to know, it’s very private!” I sound like I’m
begging.

“I promise I won’t say a word, nobody will hear it from me,
love. But if you want to talk to anyone, count me in on your friends list!” she
says reassuringly.

I smile at her. “Thank you, that’s all I need, and I will
meet up with you again.” I pause and smile. “A friends list? I haven’t got one
of those yet. You can be the first on it, apart from James.” I laugh.

Michelle leaves with the biggest, brightest smile. I sit in
the chair, finishing my tea and thinking about what she said about Maggie, particularly
the bit about Maggie knowing what Lewis was like.

I’m contemplating putting my jeans back on when there’s
another tap at the door and it opens.

“Only me!” James announces as he walks into the room. He’s
carrying a small bowl covered in silver foil which he places on the cabinet at
the side of the bed.

“You’re up!” He’s very observant.

I look at him and at the bowl. “Umm, don’t know how long I
slept for, Michelle woke me. We’ve had a chat and a drink. Isn’t she lovely?” 

“Yeah, one of the best.” He nods in agreement.

“Did you manage to reschedule the meeting?”

He shakes his head. “No, too late. The guy was here when I
went downstairs, I couldn’t wriggle out of it. It only took an hour, though, so
job done!”

He walks over to me, to where I am sitting, watching me
intently with those dark eyes of his. “Put the tea down and stand up.” His
tone’s commanding.

I comply, as usual.

“Are you ready to forget everything, if only for the rest of
the day? This treatment will be so much more effective than any talking therapy
that doctor guy was muttering about. This is the treatment prescribed by Doctor
James, his very own remedy.” He grins, his voice now
very
low and husky.

“Oh…” I smile, I think I may like this.

He presses a soft kiss to my temple, then eases his way down
to my neck. Sucking on my collarbone whilst deftly undoing the buttons of my
shirt, one by one.

His mouth follows the path he has created by the undoing of
the buttons, down between my breasts, across my stomach, until he pulls the
shirt completely apart. His mouth then works its way back up again as he pulls
my shirt over my shoulders and down my arms. This is bliss, I desperately need
him, need this, need to be touched, to be loved.

He pulls me close. We’re standing together and I can feel his
hard cock against my stomach through his trousers. I place my hands on his hips
and slide them down, back over his firm backside. He kisses me, his tongue
exploring my mouth; the feelings set my core alight, I’m inwardly quivering.
His hands move towards my back and he unclips my bra, his hands gently sliding
under the sides until he’s cupping my breasts. He breaks the kiss and pulls my
bra away, pushing it up and out of the way, leaving it hooked around my
shoulders.

“Tell me that you trust me, Alex,” he whispers.

I gasp. “I think I do.” 

“Only think?” he questions, one eyebrow raised.

“Umm… You’re not using me, James, are you? Taking
advantage?” I ask in all seriousness.

“No, I would never do that, never. Tell me that you want
this.” He speaks so softly.

I think, pausing. “I do, I really do.”

“I’m going to make you feel so good. I’m going to shatter
you,” he growls. “Bed!”

He lets me go and I move towards the bed, sitting on the
edge.

“Move on up, lie down on your back,” he demands, and I do
nothing else but comply with his directive and he watches me.

He stands above me and slowly takes off his shirt. I’m
sopping wet, my knickers must be drenched. He slips his shoes and socks off and
then he slowly undoes his black trousers and lets them fall. Oh! He’s wearing
boxers today! He climbs on the bed, the mattress moving as he does, and lies
beside me. Little flicks of his tongue travel down my neck, I moan aloud and
arch my back.

“Easy, Alex, there’s plenty more to come,” he growls.

He pinches my nipple hard and I groan again. He trails a
feather-light touch between by breasts and down my stomach until he finds my
mound. Slipping his hand under my knickers, he toys with the fine mass of
curls. “We need to do something about this, use the spa,” he whispers.

He shifts to the end of the bed and reaches up to my hips,
pulling my knickers away and tossing them aside, his fingers returning to my
private place. “Jesus, you’re so fucking wet,” his deep voice rumbles. “Spread
your legs!” he orders, but his tone is sensual, not harsh.

He moves his hand away, down towards my feet. Using light
touches, he works his way from my ankles to the inside of my thighs, very
slowly, until he reaches my sex. “Bend your knees.” I’m moaning, writhing, I’ve
never ever been so turned on, complying with every instruction, every command.

He teases my sex with his fingers. “I’m going to make you
explode,” he grumbles. “I want you to
know
that not all men are
bastards, some of us are here to provide pleasure, and you’re going to
experience pleasure at my hand. You
are
going to ache for me.” My body
shudders simply from his words, and the anticipation of his promise. I sigh
deeply, his words alone, his touch enough to make me explode right now.

With expert hands he rubs the little nub. I’m writhing
around, moaning and whimpering, when he slides a finger into my very core. He
pumps into me before withdrawing, only to re-enter with two, again pumping and
scissoring, then he shifts slightly to my side and takes my nipple into his
mouth. He toys with the hard pearl, his tongue lapping and his teeth nipping in
rhythm with his hand.

“I’m going to come. James… James!” I gasp his name.

“No you’re not, not yet,” he says firmly. His voice is soft,
erotic and seductive.

He shifts again and positions himself between my legs. I can
feel his cock nudge my opening. He enters gently at first, filling me.

“Wrap your legs around me, around my waist,” he growls, his
lips brushing my neck so gently, his curls caressing my cheek, so soft.

I move my legs up and hook my feet around each other, around
his back. He sinks deeper and deeper, establishing his rhythm, increases his
speed and thrusts into me, slamming home with every stroke.

“You. Are. So. Ready,” he breathes.

“I am! I’m coming, James… James. Can’t wait!” I shout.

We find our release together, he’s right. I shatter, my body
convulsing around him. He stays in me, a final pulse emptying himself inside of
me, holding me tight as I squeeze the very last from him, my muscles clenching,
drawing him in, the last shudders of my explosive climax.

I don’t think I’ve ever had sex like this in my whole life.
Lewis never cared about me. As long as he was satisfied, that’s all that
mattered, but this – this is real, proper love-making. This is the stuff I
dreamt about.

We lie there wrapped in each other, our bodies entwined. I
breathe deeply. The years of pent-up frustration have left me, for the moment
anyway.

I think James understands me, understands what I need. He
makes me feel whole, complete, something that I’ve never felt before.

“Are you okay?” he finally asks, his voice gentle.

“Yes.” I feel great. “I feel wonderful!”