Survival (Twisted Book 1) (10 page)

“Thomas!”

He turned instinctively, as if he felt it too. The pull. He strode towards me as I rushed to get to him and we both slowed to a stop just a metre apart.

“I’m not in the mood for margaritas,” I said, taking a deep breath.

“No?” He cocked a brow; a move that had an effect on every one of my senses simultaneously.

It made my heart race, my blood pound in my ears. I
t made my stomach flutter in excited anticipation.

I shook my head, “Do you like wine?”

He tilted his head from side to side and pursed his lips in thought.

“Red or white?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “That’s the deal maker or breaker.”

“Both,” I muttered, my confidence failing. He was going to reject me based on whether I liked red or white wine?

“I can work with that,” he winked and turned to his friends. “See you tomorrow.”

The two men frowned and attempted to protest
but Thomas ignored their efforts and held his arm out for me. I hesitated. I wondered if I could do it – go for a drink with a man without a mask in place to protect me. But the question returned; what did I have to lose?

Nothing.

I settled my hand in the crook of his elbow, my fingers flexing against the warm firmness and Thomas led me to a little wine bar on one of the back streets.

We stayed for hours, until the sun had set completely, the cobbled street outside the bar was bathed in darkness and we had consumed two bottles of red wine at the table by the window.

I laughed freely as Thomas recounted things he’d done with Chaz and Joel, the two friends he was with earlier; the places they’d been, the things they’d seen, and now they worked together.
We talked a little about me, post-2003, but I kept the conversation on him. I wanted to stay in the bar with him forever; I felt safe, I felt free if only for a while, I felt like I had found something in Thomas and whatever it was, I wanted to keep it.

Eventually, the bar manager asked us to finish up our drinks so they could close for the night; it was past midnight and we’d been there for three hours. I hadn’t even noticed. I was happy, content to be surrounded by Thomas and everything he represented. I could be myself around him, whoever that was.

Thomas paid for our wine and we thanked the staff before stepping out into the clammy summer air. Thomas held out his hand for mine and for the first time in a long time I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t ponder, I didn’t shy away. We took the short walk back to the cab office and Thomas ordered a car to take me home.

“Can I see you again?” He asked, tucking my hair behind my ear and setting his hand on the side of my neck.

The goosebumps rose from the warmth of his hand, my pulse thumped furiously against his palm and my body heat rose to match his.

“Yes,” I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper.

Thomas blinked slowly, licked his lips and his eyes fell on my mouth. My lips tingled beneath his gaze and the smile that came next was instantly more intoxicating than the wine. He leaned in, so slowly I thought time had stopped. Everything around us ceased to exist as he leaned closer and I closed my eyes.

His lips met mine and Earth stopped spinning. It was a soft kiss, a whisper of a touch as he sealed his mouth over mine. I never wanted it to end, but he pulled away, stroked his thumb over my cheek and as I opened my eyes, his voice, low and assured sent a shiver rippling down my spine as he whispered.

“Your cab is here.”

I stepped back and locked into his eyes as he reached behind me to open the door. He had me. I had him. Whatever had happened tonight, I would remember it until I took my last breath. I climbed in the car and as I looked out of the window and waved goodbye, Thomas blew me a kiss. Only it wasn’t a kiss; it was his heart, and he took mine with him as I blew one back and the cab pulled away from the curb.

Without warning, Thomas had crept in from out of nowhere and captured me, enraptured me, and given me a reason to fight.

“Wanna see a magic trick?” has got to be the worst way to catch a woman. But it worked on me. Boy, did it work on me. Thomas made falling in love easy.

December 9
th
, 2008.

“Thomas!” I called up the stairs. “We’re going to be late!”

I could hear him rustling around in the bedroom; he took longer to get ready than I did. I humoured myself knowing I
’d had all afternoon to prepare for the evening while he was at the office.

Thomas was the managing director for a sports magazine. His father owned the company until he retired and Thomas took over. He was ten years older than me, but you couldn’t tell. He acted younger than his age, often blowing raspberries on my neck while I tried to work. He liked to hide too; he’d pretend he wasn’t home and jump out of a cupboard when I least expected it. He sat in the same spot for an hour once. And then complained about his knees and back hurting because he’d contorted himself into the little cupboard under the stairs, knowing I’d go there to put my shoes away when I got to his place. Only I was running late.

I acted older then my twenty-five years. I’d experienced things people twice my age hadn’t and for that, I was a thirty-five year old in a twenty-five year old body.

I still worked for Poise. I had been there for four years and I loved it. I survived my first week and at the end of it, Nina ripped up my CV and told me I’d never have to write one again. I was an office junior for just eight weeks. I made coffee, ran errands and was at the beck and call of everyone in the office. I moved up quickly and every time I did, I heard the bell ring and imagined the MC announcing that I’d won another round. I had been an admin assistant, a receptionist and I was now the office manager. I loved it; I had finally found my niche. I felt impor
tant, I felt needed. I felt
normal
.

“Thomas!” I called again and heard him laugh.

I moved from the living room to the hallway when I heard him galloping down the stairs. He was tying his tie and trying to wiggle his feet into his shoes, whilst shaking his barely-dry hair into some sort of style.

“Geez, you’re a mess,” I joked, approaching him.

He continued getting his feet into his shoes while I adjusted his tie and combed my fingers through his auburn hair. I styled it the way I liked it; tussled and slightly to one side. It was guaranteed to have my fingers itching to touch it all night. I liked to tease myself.

“Love you too,” he rolled his eyes and squeezed my backside.

“There,” I smoothed down his tie and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. I ached for more, but it was all part of our game. My favourite game. “Let’s go. The car is outside.”

He helped me into my coat, pulled on his dinner jacket and grabbed the umbrella. I took his hand again; a sign of appreciation that he always dismissed, saying he was lucky to have me. I was the lucky one. He understood me; from the moment he handed me the orange rose in Jose’s alleyway, he became my magic.

Thomas opened the front door, pulled me into his side until my body melded with his and we laughed with ease as we ran the length of the driveway in the rain, to where the car was waiting to take us to the BBC Sports Personality of the Year awards ceremony.

They say ‘don’t hate the player, hate the game’. Well, I kinda loved the game…I kinda loved the player, too.

December 10
th
, 2008.

“That dress makes your tits look incredible.”

Thomas curled his arm over my shoulders, taking one of my breasts, sheathed in midnight blue, in his hand.

“Yeah, well, those trousers are too tight. I could see your cock twitching for me all night.”

“Mmm,” he groaned, moving his arm and slipping both hands into his pockets. “It’s be
en twitching for you for thirty six hours.”

That was how long it had been. Sometimes we would only last an hour without each other. Sometimes we’d go at it all night, multiples times, until I was so exhausted I only just made it to work the next day. And sometimes we would go for days with nothing but a teasing touch and a goading glare. It was what we enjoyed most.
The anticipation. Building the need until it was on such a base level we couldn’t stop for hours. It had been thirty-six since he was last inside me. The only contact we’d had was chaste kissing, an ass grab on his part and a crotch stroke on mine. I ached for him; I would have torn my clothes off and rode him on the back seat if it weren’t for the game. We played it every time we went out.

Thomas pulled his closed fists from his pockets and presented them to me.

“If you get it, you go. If you don’t, I go,” he licked his lips and I knew he had a wicked plan. “Pick a fist.”

I thought for a second, just a second, because I was too excited to drag it out, and tapped his right fist. He turned it over and opened it; it was empty. He opened the other. It was empty too.

“Cheating, Mr Radley?”

“We never agreed to play fair,” his voice lowered to a seductive, rasping timbre that resonated through me and made my stomach flutter.

He reached for the inside pocket of his jacket and held out his fist again. I pried it open and found a small red gem settled in his palm.

“A ruby?”
I took it from him and closed my fingers around its warmth.

“Red.
For Christmas.”

“Thank you.”

He always bought me a gift when we played. I didn’t need them, didn’t expect them, but I took them. The first time, he gave me pair of Cartier diamond studs. I went crazy and demanded he take them back…

So he wrote the word ‘Cartier’ on my clit with his
tongue again and again, refusing to let me come until I begged for release and promised not to reject his gifts again.

I flushed thinking about that night and squeezed my thighs together.

“You’re wet for me already,” he breathed and turned to look out the window. “I can smell your sweet nectar. I imagine it trickling from you, waiting for me to lap it up.”

I exhaled a moan, just from the sound of his voice and the images of his head between my legs. I’d gone from nought to nymph in seconds. Faster than the flashy car he fucked me on last week.

The car pulled up outside Thomas’ house and we climbed out. It sped off into the distance as we waited at the end of the driveway for it to disappear.

“Ready?” Thomas asked, running one finger from the top of my neck to the bottom of my back.

“Ready.”

Ready or not, here I come…             

December 10
th
, 2008.

I opened the front door slowly and stepped into the dark house. The anticipation was thick in my veins, slowing my movements so I could savour each second that ticked by on the clock in the hallway. I loved it; the rush, the excitement, the time to imagine every little detail of what was about to happen. I kicked my shoes off one by one, the heels clicking on the wooden floor, and let my coat slide down my arms. I placed it over the banister where Thomas had left his jacket. I closed my eyes.

I listened.

Silence.

I heard nothing but the fast pounding of my heart.

“Thomas?” I called, but I knew he wouldn’t answer.

I checked the lounge but he wasn’t in there; that would have been too easy. I checked his office next, but all I saw of Thomas was the slideshow screensaver on his desktop. They were pictures of the two of us in The Bahamas in the summer. He’d been in the office to throw me off. It did. I paused and looked at the pictures, remembering the Egyptian cotton sheets that caressed my body along with my lover’s hands as the gentle breeze cooled my
searing skin.

A bang on the floor above made me jump. I smiled, left the office and ascended the stairs.

“Thomas?” I called again, to let him know I was getting warmer. It was like a radar; the closer I got, the hotter I felt, until it became unbearable. I was trembling with anticipation, burning with desire.

I stopped.

I hooked my thumbs into the straps of my dress and it slid down my body, pooling at my feet like the depths of an ocean. I adjusted my underwear; I knew it would drive him crazy if he was watching me.

I opened the door to the games room and my heart leapt when I saw him. Thomas was still dressed and standing by the window, a dark shadow revealed only by the dim light above the pool table that separated us.

“The games room?” I asked.

I ran my hands down my waist and to the top of my stockings. He made me feel sexy, desirable, and the way his eyes greedily drank me in made me squirm on the spot.

“Come here,” he breathed and I walked to him as quickly as my shaky legs would carry me. I stopped in front of him, close enough to inhale his virile scent and I allowed myself to be captivated by the erotic energy he exuded.