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‘Because you give a mean foot massage?’ I respond, throwing back what he’d said the first night he played prostitute.
‘I do, but in the interest of transparency, it’s only to encourage you to take your knickers off.’
‘I wouldn’t expect anything less,’ I reply, straight-faced. ‘Rain check?’ I suggest. Up until this moment, I hadn’t considered replying to Ella with a yes, but listening to Will and his plans to love me, no matter how temporary, has my heart growing three sizes, just like the Grinch. I take it as a warning of sorts.
‘Ella just asked me if I’d like to meet her for a drink.’
‘Ella-Ella? As in Mac’s Ella, from rugby?’ At least, that’s what it sounds like he asks, given he’s brushing his teeth.
‘How many Ellas do you think I know in London? Yes, Ella-Ella.’
Will holds up a finger, so I pause while he goes back into the bathroom to rinse his mouth.
‘She’s a lovely girl.’ He looks genuinely pleased. And gorgeous, in case I forgot to mention—all tan and fair and cut, standing there in just a towel. ‘You’ll have a very pleasant evening, I shouldn’t wonder. Two stunners, out on the town. Sipping cocktails, men drooling at your feet.’
‘Men we’ll use as footstools.’
‘If that’s the kind of thing you’re into, I know just the kind of place we can hang out.’
‘I just bet you do.’
‘What?
Pushing back the sheet, I wonder if my legs will hold me up for the rest of the day as I slide my feet to the floor. The way Will had my body twisted last night has left me sore in places I didn’t know I had muscles. My body aches from his attention, and while some aches come with a level of satisfaction, some just come with anouch.
‘I need to work out more often,’ I grumble, contemplating standing as a memory assails me: Will holding my ankles in the air as he drove into me with such power and force, he had to stop to pull me to the edge of the mattress. And the way he held my wrists against the bed as he entered me so slowly, refusing to move or give me what I needed until I was hoarse from moaning my pleas.
He was rough and tender and all the bits between, and had the kind of stamina I thought could only occur in fantasies. My body tingles quite suddenly, overcome with the sensory memory of the last time he slid into me last night. I thought it would hurt, but he pushed in so tenderly, I came with a jerk—a full-on body spasm timed with my orgasm, an orgasm that seemed never-ending as he’d worked his way down my body, drawing it out with his mouth.
I look up to find Will staring at down at me. There’s no humour in his face, but plenty of heat. I begin pulling the sheet from behind me, feeling exposed
‘Don’t do that,’ he says, stilling me with one look. ‘You’re stunning, Sadie.’ I duck my head, hiding my growing smile, though his sincere moment doesn’t last very long. ‘It was an honour to deflower you last night. You know, after the whole revirginized thing. And I hope we have many more nights like that.’
‘Between now and the end of August, at least.’ As I look up again, he’s palming himself though the white downy towel. ‘Oh, no.’ The words bubble up from my throat with laughter. ‘That’s not happening.’
‘But plum,’ he says with a pout. ‘What am I going to do with this in the meantime?’ His eyes flick comically down.
‘I have one or two suggestions,’ I answer, unable to restrain my smile. ‘Something tells me you won’t like either of them very much.’
Chapter Twenty
SADIE
That night, I get to the bar ten minutes before I’m supposed to meet Ella. It’s strange, but I feel a little nervous. Not that we didn’t get along at the rugby match, but I still feel nervous. I suppose maybe I think I’ll get there ahead of time and numb the anxiety with a swift glass of wine. But when I get there, it seems Ella had the same idea.
‘Sadie!’ She stands to greet me, which is probably counterproductive, seeing as she was taller on the high chair.
We kiss the European way, double air kisses, only Ella’s are less air and more attached to my cheek.
‘I’m so pleased you said yes,’ she says, looking genuinely delighted ‘When Mac’s parents said they were coming down from Scotland yesterday, all I could think was,yes!’ She pumps her fist, causing the two gold bangles she wears to jangle. ‘And how nice it would be to see you again. Sorry,’ she adds, smoothing down her dress. ‘I might be a little excited.’
Ella is a babe of the first order and is channelling a little Joan Holloway/Mad Men style tonight. Her dress clings in all the right places, and even though it’s a little on the demure side—more a midweek night outfit than full out glam—it doesn’t hide her assets.
I’d decided on black skinny jeans, heels, and a chiffon blouse. A safe outfit, but one that’ll work almost anywhere casual.
‘Also, sorry, but I started without you.’ She pulls an apologetic face as she slides her fingers over the bowl of her cocktail glass. ‘In my defence, I don’t get out very often,’ she says, toying with the stem.
‘Tough with small children, I imagine.’
