Spirit (19 page)

I eye him with a degree of suspicion still, but the awesome implications are beginning to sink in. I wanted to establish a reputation for myself and this artwork is my route to that. Matt’s interpretation is far more attention-grabbing than mine would have been, the combination of aesthetics and functionality a seductive one. It will appeal to sports enthusiasts, art lovers and scientists alike—not that those groups are mutually exclusive in my experience—and the sustainability aspect is nothing short of inspired.

But still, there could be problems. Matt mentioned several of them when we met at his office. “What about the planners? We’d still need planning permission. And the Bronte conservation lobby?”

“I have a specialist planning consultant on my team and he’s on this already. There’s a presumption in favour of development for renewable energy projects so that should smooth the way for us. I plan to conceal all cabling underground so within a few weeks of the installation the surrounding landscape will be back to normal. The energy management facility will be concealed in one of Ned’s under used barns, so no external disturbance there either. There’s nothing for them to object to.”

“I see, but what about Ned? And Annie?”

“Like you said, they’re up for it. The promise of free electricity may have smoothed the path a bit, but I think you sold it to them anyway.”

“Not me,” I mutter.

“What was that?”

“I think it was you who sold it. Annie thinks you’re a nice young man. Polite, she said.”

“Good judge of character, Mrs Boothroyd. I am nice. I seem to recall you once told me I was the nicest person you knew.”

I flush, remembering that Christmas morning and Matt’s insightful gifts. Who would have imagined that within days I’d be on my own again, running like a scared rabbit? I scramble to my feet and pace over to the window. I stare out, my back to Matt as I hope to conceal my embarrassment. And my confusion. It had all seemed so clear back then, the need to escape. Now it just seems trivial, a waste of—of what? A good relationship? Decent sex? Actually, it was amazing sex.

“…nice too.” Matt’s voice is low, that timbre which seems to be perfectly modulated to set my pussy drooling. Where did he learn that? I tip my face forward to rest my forehead on the cool window pane and will my body to settle down, to relax. To not betray me.

“Beth, are you listening to me?” The words come from close by. Matt has left his chair and is standing right behind me, his breath on the back of my neck. I wish I’d left my hair down, or kept my jacket on, the collar turned up. Anything to create a barrier between his soft, warm breath and my skin.

Too many memories.

“Beth?” His tone has sharpened. Not much, barely perceptible, but enough to catch my attention.

I turn to find my nose just inches from his chest. I tilt back my head to meet his gaze. His eyes are warm, hot even, and the suggestion of a smile plays around that sensual mouth.

“I want to kiss you.”
Did I say that? Out loud?

“For old times’ sake? Or to seal our new partnership perhaps?”

“Not entirely.”

“Thank God for that.” He dips his face towards mine as I reach up on tiptoe to close the remaining distance. I slide my lips across his, the sensation so familiar despite the years between us, the anger and the disappointment. I let all that fall away as I reach to tangle my fingers in his hair.

It’s a little shorter now than it was before, but every bit as soft, the waves springy under my fingertips. His arms close around me, pulling me close and lifting me up so he can deepen the kiss. Or I can. Whichever, it happens, and in moments we’re on the small settee, me curled in his lap, my lips locked on his. My tongue is dancing in his mouth, tangling with his, exploring, tasting. I swallow my sigh, or perhaps it is his. My fingers are curled in the soft wool of his sweater as I cling on. His palms are on my back, circling my shoulder blades, soothing, reassuring, just as before.

I break the kiss to rest my cheek against the solid strength of his chest, and this time it is he who tunnels his fingers through my hair. He dislodges the claw fastener holding it in place and the waves tumble free, the dark blonde strands toning delicately with the hue of his sweater. We match. Perfectly.

“Christ, Beth, why did you leave?”

I wince, desolate in the knowledge that I let him down. I let us both down.

“I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

“I’m sorry too, for not doing enough to make you trust me.”

“It wasn’t you. It was—all too much. I couldn’t cope, had no idea what to do.”

“I realise that now. I should have taken better care of you. I knew you were young, scared, unsure of yourself.”

“It was me. My fault. I was naive. Too innocent.” All true, up to a point.

“I know. I should have known better, should have sent you back to bed that night. To your bed.”

“Oh, no. Not that. I don’t mean that. I loved it that you, that we…” My voice trails off. The phrase ‘fucked like rabbits’ springs to mind, but doesn’t seem entirely appropriate. Not for Annie Boothroyd’s front room.

“Ah, well that’s a relief I suppose. Especially as we seem to be headed down the same path again. Or at least, I am. What about you, Beth?”

I should refuse. This is the point where I should scramble out of his lap, straighten my clothes, fix my hair back in place and tell him I’ve moved on.

I nod my head and snuggle closer to him. “I missed you. I missed you so much. There were days when I just wanted to come back but I was scared. I thought you’d be angry, about the money, about me just going without a word. I was sure you’d tell me to get lost again. I couldn’t bear that.”

“I
was
angry, and I’d have had a lot to say to you about what you did. But I’d never have told you to get lost. I’d have been too busy begging you to stay.”

I open my mouth, intending to say something. Anything. But not the thing that actually comes out.

“Would you have spanked me?”

Shit! Where did that come from? My words hover in the air and the temperature feels to me to drop a degree or ten.

Matt stiffens, his start of surprise palpable. “Spank you? Of course I fucking wouldn’t. Why the hell would you think that?”

“Why not? That’s what you like to do? Isn’t it?” Even as I voice the words I wish I could just bury it all again, never have to confront what I learned, what I saw that last day in Matt’s flat. What it hinted to me about myself. Even after everything.

“You know I do. But not with you. Our relationship was nothing like that.”

“But it was with Megan?”

His glare is angry, tinged with bewilderment. “Yes, but we’ve been through all this. I explained how it was with you. Megan was an experienced submissive. You were just a kid back then. You were only eighteen. I would never…” He pauses, shaking his head. He drags his fingers through his hair. “Christ, Beth, is that what you thought? That if you came back I’d tie you to my bed and flog the living daylights out of you?”

“No, of course not.” Yes, pretty much that is what I thought, or something along those lines. Though his putting it into words makes it sound all the more ridiculous.

“No?” He tips my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Are you sure?”

My lower lip trembles as he blurs before my eyes. I continue to gaze at him through my tears as he shakes his head slowly.

“Ah, baby, I would never do that. Not to anyone, and definitely not you.”

“Why? Why not me? Why Megan and not me?” I’d been terrified back then, but now this feels more like rejection.

“I wouldn’t do anything like that to Megan either. I like my kink, I haven’t denied that, but it’s all about consent for me. Megan shared my particular tastes, she wanted what I did to her. For her. She loved all of it. I don’t want a partner who’s not willing, or one who’s too young to know what she wants.”

“I’m not eighteen any more.”

“No, I noticed that. But back then, legally you were an adult, and sexually too as I was delighted to discover. But emotionally? I don’t think so. I fucked you, but there was no way I’d have introduced you to my kink. Not then. Not for a long time.”

“So, if I’d stayed, you would have?”

“I might have. If you wanted it. Eventually.”

“And now? Do you still do that stuff?”

He grins. “Oh yes.”

“But not with Megan, as she moved to New Zealand.”

“That’s right. Though we do keep in touch.”

“I see. But there must be someone else. I mean, if you’re still a dom.”

“Once a dom, always a dom I reckon. I know a lot of submissives, and I’m never short of play partners. But to answer your question, there’s no one special, not at the moment. You?”

I shake my head emphatically. I’ve had one or two flings since I knew Matt, casual relationships with guys on my course, but nothing that meant much.

Matt wipes the tears from beneath my eyes with the pad of his thumb. “This was meant to be a business discussion, but it sort of got away from me on to more personal areas. I do want to continue this conversation, but not here.”

“I see. So, where—”

“Come home with me—again. We’ll finish up here, settle things with Ned and Annie, or at least as far as we can at this stage, then we’ll make ourselves scarce. Okay?”

I nod. “Do you still live in Leeds? In the same flat?” I reckon I could find it easily enough.

“No. That place was just leased for a year. I left not too long after you went, lived in a new-build in the city centre for a while. Then I moved to Hebden Bridge. A converted school. Very nice, if you like that sort of thing.”

It certainly sounds nice to me, but his tone suggest otherwise. “You sound as though you don’t like it much. Why did you buy it then?”

“Megan fancied the place.”

“Oh. Oh, right…”

Matt chuckles. “And then she left. There are no ghosts there, Beth. And just to be sure we’re on the same wavelength, if you agree to come home with me, and I do most sincerely hope you will, I would like to fuck you. Will you object?”

“I never objected.”

“True. And as you’ve been at pains to point out, neither are you eighteen any more. My intentions toward you are far less honourable now. Without doubt, and if you’re up for it, I will be tempted to deliver that spanking you mentioned.”

“I see.”

He lifts that expressive eyebrow again and waits for me to say more. Determined, I keep my mouth closed. He gives a quick nod, acknowledging my meaning. “Good. First though, shall we go back and tell Ned and Annie the party’s on? They’re going to get their solar farm.”

* * *

We leave the farmhouse about ten minutes later under strict instructions to come back soon. This reminds me that I need to sort out the matter of my accommodation for the duration of the project. I need to be close by, able to get to the site easily. My flat in Manchester is reasonably convenient, but I’ll need a more local base.

“I wonder, would you mind if I parked my camper on your land somewhere? Not right here in the farmyard, obviously, but close by. Preferably somewhere fairly sheltered, and where I could get access to an electricity supply. And water.”

Annie’s eyes glint at me behind her spectacles, alight with mischief. She’s sharp, misses nothing, and I have no doubt she’s worked out what my plans are regarding my immediate sleeping arrangements. “Well o’ course tha can, lass. But I’ll not be hearin’ of you sleepin’ out. It gets right chilly round ‘ere at nights. There’s a spare room upstairs tha can ‘ave.”

“That’s so kind, but really, there’s no need. My van’s fine, and…”

“Beth’s going to be staying with me, at least for a while.” Matt interrupts our discussion, his gaze fixed on Alice who is parked a few yards away. Annie arches one knowing eyebrow, satisfied with her meddling. I look from her to Matt who is still studying Alice. From his expression I surmise he is less than impressed. I bristle.

“Thank you, Annie. I might take you up on that.”

Matt’s response is somewhere between a grunt and a snort, not his most articulate moment. He’s pacing around Alice now, peering in her windows and flattening his lips at the sight of her somewhat battered rear end. I wonder if he’ll be quite so disparaging about mine, when he’s done with it.

If I let him.

What am I thinking?
When
I let him. In a sudden flash of clarity I know it’s all been leading to this. This moment when I go with Matt to his converted school in Hebden Bridge and bend over to offer him unfettered access to my bare bottom. I’ve no idea how I’ll react, but I know I want to try it.

I always wanted to try it, even back then, and it was my own horrified reaction to that desire that sent me scuttling off in a frenzy of blind panic. But we’ve come full circle, and here we are. Again.

“Beth…” There’s a warning in Matt’s voice now, a hint that I should perhaps not bait him.

I pull my keys from my pocket and head for Alice’s driver’s door. “Shall I follow you?”

“Leave the van here. If that’s okay with you, of course…” He turns to Annie, who shrugs and nods. “Right, you can ride with me.”

“But I’ll need my van. For getting back up here tomorrow.”

“I’ll drive you back. Or you can borrow my Range Rover.” He casts a last disparaging glare at Alice. “That bloody thing won’t be much use anyway—you’ll be up to your axles in mud before you get ten yards from the lane. What you’ll be needing to get up to the tops there is a quad bike. We’ll have to hire one. I’ll add it to the project costs.” He marches off in the direction of his four wheel drive monster and opens the passenger door for me. I make no further argument and hop inside.

The drive to Hebden Bridge is not a long one, half an hour perhaps. Much of that time is spent in contemplative silence. I gaze out of the window, enjoying the scenery for once as I don’t have to concentrate on negotiating the twists and turns of the high moorland road. As we reach the spot where I first saw the glorious hillside across the valley, I signal Matt to slow down. He pulls over and we both admire our imaginary masterpiece. I hug myself, excited but not entirely sure what’s causing the current fluttering in the pit of my stomach.