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“I love you, too,” I tell him with a smile. “I already know you’re my one and only.”
His humour comes out at that statement, with a glint in his eyes.
“I won’t be your one and only in bed later, sweetheart,” he laughs. “Still, that only shows how much you really do love me, doesn’t it? I never thought I’d find a woman like you.”
The slam of terror should be back in my stomach at the thought of what I’ll be doing later, but it isn’t. Right now, I’d fuck every man in Devon this evening, just to make him smile.
We walk along the sea wall together, exclaiming at the height of the waves as his hand clutches mine, and I’m not worried about who’ll be coming through the bedroom door or what they might want me to do for them. All I care about is Ant, and being the woman he needs me to be for him.
He deserves it.
He deserves my everything.
I only hope I can deliver.
We’re on the motorway heading north when my nerves come back with a vengeance. I’m still flying high from the day we’ve had, but I’m terrified. I don’t know if I can be anywhere near as good as the girl on the video.
Probably not.
Scratch that.
Definitely not.
Ant turns the radio down when I start shifting in my seat.
“You ok, baby?”
I manage a smile. “Yeah.”
“Worried about tonight?” he reads me like a book.
“Just a bit,” I admit.
“Don’t be worried, sweetheart. I’ll be right there with you.” He reaches out and squeezes my hand.
I don’t want to tell him that him being there is one of the main reasons I’m so worried. If it was a case of getting it on with someone until they’d taken their fill and disappeared, it would be one thing, but knowing Ant will be directing me through the challenge of performing like a slut is a whole different game to play.
“Cass,” he says, jolting me back to him. “You don’t need to be worried about anything. I’ll be there to guide you. And you can call time out whenever you want. It’s your choice, princess.”
“You make it sound so easy,” I tell him, “I just…”
“Because it is easy, baby,” he squeezes my hand again. “Trust me. All you have to do is follow my lead, relax, and enjoy it. You can do that, right?”
“I’ll try.”
“Good girl.”
I only hope he’s still telling me I’m a good girl when it’s all over.
Ant takes the motorway exit at Gloucester and pulls into the car park of a sweet little restaurant. It’s cute and quaint, and I’d usually be exclaiming that he’d chosen well for dinner, but I’m just too edgy. He must feel my hand trembling as we make our way to the pub door, and he stops walking, turning to face me.
“I mean it, Cass. Call time out. If you can’t do this for me, then say it.”
I’m shaking my head as he speaks, and my expression must be as serious as his.
“I can do this, Ant.”
“But do you want to?”
“Yes!”
We stare at each other. The tension at an all-time high.
It’s him who breaks it.
“Sorry. I’m not convinced, princess, so let’s call it off. I’ll let our visitor know.”
He pulls his phone from his pocket and carries on walking, but I pull him back.
I’m so scared of disappointing him that my heart is thumping like crazy.
“I want it! I know you’ll make it amazing. You always do. You make everything amazing. This isn’t going to be any different, is it? You’ll make me love it, just like always. I know you will!”
He weighs me up, and I feel on trial. Fuck, I hope he believes me.
“Please, Ant. Don’t call it off. I don’t want you to. I know you’ll make it good!”
I wait. Hope. And yes, he does believe me. He strokes my cheek with a smile.
“It’s a beautiful thing to see you have such faith in me, baby. Believe me, I have faith in you, too.”
The relief is amazing. My fear of fucking a guy on a rubber covered mattress is nothing compared to my fear of Ant being the one to call time out.
“Now,” he takes my hand, “let’s go eat.”
They don’t stock De Chante, so I go with a much cheaper option.
“We’ll take the bottle,” he tells the barmaid. “And a mineral water for me, please.”
We take a seat at a table in the corner, and it’s a lovely place. I should be glowing, but no matter how hard I try to fight it, my fingers are jittery on the menu. Ant reaches over to take hold of my hand.
“Relax, drink a nice glass of champagne and take a breath.”
I down a glass in one and he pours me another.
“This will definitely help.”
“Thanks,” I say.
I’m browsing the menu again when he turns towards me to point out some options.
