Page 13 of The Last to Know
But then, ‘I like your eye make-up,’ CJ says, hands still clasped. ‘It makes your eyes look really …’
Ash wants to say thank you before CJ has even concluded her compliment.
‘Really pretty,’ she settles on. ‘You’re cute.’
‘Oh!’ says Ash. ‘That’s. Well. Yes.’ She’s creating a CoLab obstacle course with the random words she’s dispensing, Jesus.
‘Highly strung, though, aren’t you?’ CJ comments, face creased with a sort of fascination.
‘Guilty,’ is all Ash can say.
CJ winks. ‘That’s cute, too, I guess.’
Then she walks away.
There is nothing that can rival the compliment of a woman to another woman. Men are easily fooled with cheap tricks: short hemlines, a low-cut top, hair down instead of up. Eliciting a compliment from a man is straightforward enough, even if he doesn’t fancy you. But a woman? A woman knows the right thing to say and the right way to say it: what man would know to compliment eyebrows, or notice the new finish to a foundation? A man could never understand the subtle art of balancing a feminine silhouette with a baggier trouser and a more fitted top, or explain why sometimes a beautiful outfit needs dressing down with an ugly shoe. And so it is with CJ calling Ash cute. If a bloke did it, Ash would find it infantilising and gross, but thatCJcalled her cute? Ash positively floats out of the building towards Luis’s moped across the street, feeling like the sexiest, most beautiful version of herself – and Luis has clocked it.
‘Let me help you with this, stunning, stunning Ash,’ he says, getting a shiny red helmet from under his seat for her.
She steps towards him and he brushes her hair back over her shoulders with a gentle sweep of his hand, making thehairs on the back of Ash’s neck prickle to attention. Her whole body feels sobuzzyright now. She can practically hear the blood whooshing around her body, the pumping of vital life in her veins. She is Ashley Jane Davies, she is cute, she is crazy, and she is being touched by a man who makes her believe in God, because his face is no accident. He is somebody’s work of art. He wasdesigned, and no doubt for pleasure. Ash looks at him, feeling powerful, feeling sensual and fully herself, and she doesn’t fucking look away. Instead she stares, unrelenting, at Luis’s angular-jawed, Roman-nosed self, and before he can clip the fastening under her chin Ash takes the helmet off and moves to hang it back on the handlebars. Then she turns around, notes Luis’s wry grin of anticipation, the fire in his eyes, and takes a step towards him. He gulps, just like Ash did for CJ, and Ash pushes back her shoulders, tilts her chin up, reaches out a hand to Luis’s chest and pushes him back towards the wall of the building until he hits it with a thud. He seems thrilled, excited by the way she is taking charge, and Ash savours this moment of being so fully in command of herself, of this situation, of her goddamn sexual hunger, before pushing her face up against his, the length of her body alongside him, her tongue finding his, his hand in her hair, her fingers tracking his stubble, kissing, and kissing, and kissing.
9
CJ
They don’t hear her leave CoLab, so CJ gets a full beat to watch it happen: Ash pushing a visibly ecstatic Luis up against the wall before launching at him, a kiss so passionate that CJ has surely underestimated the sexual tension brewing between them this past week. There’s something so carnal about Ash’s open wanting that CJ gets a thunderbolt of desire herself, a sharp intake of her own breath, the parting of moist lips, a surge of electricity to her nipples, the backs of her legs, the tops of her thighs. Fucking hell, they’re really going for it: the very definition oftwo become one. And it’s not that CJ feels envious that Ash is kissing Luis – Luis does not belong to her. It’s just, Ash so obviously wants him, and CJ is privy to the fact that Luis is a most expert lover. Ash is about to have monumentally good sex that could ruin most other men for her from here on out. It turns her on, to think of what Luis can do: his deliberate, firm grip, his instinct for slow, delayed gratification, his lack of squeamishness, his reverence for all the deep, odorous, wanting parts of a woman. And then Luis, as if he can sense CJ’s thoughts about him,opens his eyes just enough to catch CJ looking, and he fucking loves it, he’s thrilled she’s being a pervert, a little peeping Tom. CJ sees his tongue dart from between his lips to lick at Ash hungrily, and CJ’s clitoris throbs. Luis looks again, and CJ holds his stare until Luis sticks up his middle finger from behind Ash’s back, and laughs, keeping a steady eye on CJ as she skulks away, horny, annoyed. And OK. Fine. A little bit envious.
Any woman worth her feminism knows men are not worth fighting over – men are good, yes, but they’re notthatgood. So it comes with no sense of pride or satisfaction to CJ that after bearing witness to Luis snogging Ash last night, she’s feeling uncharacteristically territorial. She’s spent the brief walk to work examining the moral ethics of this: is she wrong to want Luis’s attention for herself? Is it wrong to get in the way of whatever Luis and Ash might have? But she comes up in the negative for both: no, it’s not wrong to want Luis’s attention for herself, because they’re best friends and have always hooked up, long before Ash arrived on the scene. And no, it’s not wrong to get in the way of Luis and Ash’s dalliance: one could argue, in fact, that Ash is getting in the way of CJ and Luis’s romance. Well, maybe not romance. They’re not hearts-and-flowers kinds of people. They’re sexual soulmates, and it turns out that as generous as CJ has historically been about either of their infidelities, for some reason the combination of Luis and Ash makes her jealous, and the jealousy is actually quite fucking arousing. She’s desirousin wanting to mark him out for herself: yes, it’s quite the headfuck.
‘Morning, handsome,’ CJ says to Luis as she saunters into CoLab.
It’s beach day today, with CJ, Luis and nineteen CoLab guests not far out from boarding a bus to Praia da Adraga, over towards the west, about an hour’s drive away. The plan is mostly beach games and photo ops – it’s still early in the season, so it should be a cool twenty or so degrees, which isn’t quite sunbathing-for-hours weather, but is certainly mild enough to enjoy the views afforded by the low season, before the crowds take over. It has a certain romance to it, the empty-ish beach in April, and Praia da Adraga is so dramatic with its black cliffs in the background, its humongous rocks peppering the sand like the debris of planets discarded by the space gods. They’ve got blankets to sit on and food prepared by Miguel and Todd at Querido. It should be good – a lovely, wholesome day. And CJ intends to get fucked six ways to Sunday by the end of it,thankyouverymuch.
‘Handsome?’ asks Luis, cocking an eyebrow. He’s got a clipboard and a pen, ticking something off a list, three medium-sized plastic boxes at his feet, supplies for the day.
‘I’d say you’re not bad to look at, absolutely,’ CJ says, approaching him to issue a kiss to each of his cheeks – a display of affection that is not common for her and so instantly marks her mood out as special. First the left cheek,mwah, and then the right,mwah, she lingers close to his face and smileslazily, suggestively. ‘I’m wearing that bikini you like,’ she continues. ‘The purple one? With the thong?’
CJ isn’t shy about her body, and it’s quite normal for people to go nude, even, at some of the beaches. CJ often settles for topless, in a very small bikini bottom, a fact that Luis knows all too well.
‘You’re teasing me,’ Luis replies, features wolfish. ‘But I like it.’
CJ laughs and leaves it there – she’s got all day to drive Luis wild, and it will make the time fly.
‘This all looks good,’ she says, gesturing to his list, the packing, his apparent organisation.
‘Yes,’ Luis nods. ‘Everything is ready, sorted. So if you wanted to make me a coffee, so we can relax for a while, I wouldn’t say no.’
‘Done and done,’ CJ says with a captain’s salute. ‘That would be my pleasure.’
She fixes them a couple of coffees and they sit at the breakfast bar area of the mess and let the day’s attendees slowly assemble in dribs and drabs around them.
‘How’s Jorge?’ Luis asks, in between sing-song good mornings to folks.
‘He’s good,’ CJ says. ‘Just happy, you know? That’s all I want for him. No worries, just to play with his toys or with other kids, or to engage with the grown-ups around him with ease … I happen to think he’s becoming quite the conversationalist, as it goes, which of course makes meveryproud.’
‘He’s your son,’ Luis counters. ‘Of course he is good company.’
‘You’re kind,’ CJ says. ‘Miguel and Todd are due as much credit as I am, though. They dote on him, truly.’
