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“Like I said, I thought she was Rebecca, I said some things I probably shouldn’t have.”
“We can all say things we probably shouldn’t have, Lydia.”
Her eyes were so sad. “You don’t ever need to apologise for telling the truth, James. What are you even doing here?”
I soaked her in; the pale beauty of her legs held tight to her chest, the soft slope of her shoulders, the dark mess of her tangled hair, thrown up into a pony. She was wearing just a tiny pair of panties and a faded old pink camisole. She’d never looked more exposed, not even with her pussy spread wide for all the world to see. Her eyes were red, puffy. Maybe I’d broken her after all, just not as I intended. I reached out a hand, brushing her ankle with my fingertips. “Is this your regular home dress, Lydia? Rebecca must be rubbing off on you.”
“This is considerably more than Rebecca wears,” she said. “My nudity habit hasn’t scaled her heights quite yet.” She bit her lip, nervous. “Really, James, why are you here?”
“You didn’t hear me finish.” I fixed her in the calmest stare I could muster.
“I heard enough,” she sighed. “It’s my own fault, anyway, I shouldn’t even care.”
“If you’d have stayed around even a minute longer you’d have heard the rest. Youwerea mistake, Lydia, but I’m not sorry I made it. I told Rachel as much, I told Rachel a lot of things.”
The tremble of her lip stirred the beast, and I wanted her all over again. “You don’t need to say that.”
“I know I don’t.”
“Our thing is Explicit-only, casual. I know that, I was happy with that.”
I pulled her feet across my lap, resting my hand on her knee. “Things change. They spiral, that was always the danger.”
“I’ll get over it,” she said. “I can cope with casual, I know I can. Iwantedcasual.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t want you tocopewith casual.”
Tears pricked at her eyes, but again she forced them away. “So, this is it? It’s over?”
I smiled. “That would be the wisest move, I’m sure, but I don’t want that. I never did, not from the moment I barged into your hotel room.”
“Neither do I.” She reached out her hand and I folded her dainty little fingers in mine. “So, what now?”
“I have no idea,” I admitted. “This isn’t a position I’m used to occupying. I can’t say it’s entirely comfortable.”
“We could carry on…” she said. “As we were.”
I shunted my way toward her, craving her body more than ever. “I don’t know if I can be the man who can offer you more, Lydia, I’m not sure that’s me.”
“So don’t.” Her smile was soft. “Just be the man youare.” She leant her head into my shoulder. “I don’t want to lose what we have, James. You make me feel so alive.”
My stomach churned in rapport with her words. “I can’t offer you a relationship, Cat, it would never work. I’m too private, too closed, too set in my ways. And I can’t lose my career, I’ve worked too fucking hard. Order is my only constant, my routine is my salvation, my road through any storm.”
Her eyes glittered like moondust, pale as the kiss of a ghost. “Please talk to me. What happened to you? Was it Rachel? Was it bad?”
I sighed. “It wasn’t a good time.”
“You came here for a reason,” she whispered. “Because you care. At least try and let me in.”
“I need a drink,” I grunted, brushing her legs aside. She didn’t follow me, just sat and watched, eyes haunting my every move. I opted for a coffee, and made Lydia one too, brooding around my own resolve as the kettle boiled. This time I positioned myself away from her, my elbows on my knees.
“Rachel was already married when I met her,” I began. “We worked together a long time before anything happened. She was married to our boss’s best friend, it’s how she got the job initially. Her husband worked long hours and she was bored, he figured she could do with a hobby and along she came, to join me as a junior even though she wasn’t such a junior.”
“Go on,” she encouraged, eyes wide and so fucking compelling.
“Rachel’s first husband was a lot older than her,boring, she called him, but I suspect he worshipped the ground she walked on. She was spoiled, but frustrated, claiming the passion had all dried up. For about six months it was all she’d talk about, how much she wanted to leave him. She told me she’d moved into a separate bedroom at first, that they weren’t having sex. She’d say too much, bemoaning the fact she was a red-blooded woman without a man, and me, well I was a red-blooded man without a steady woman. She came back to work after a long Christmas holiday that year and told me they’d agreed to separate. I believed her, I mean, why wouldn’t I? It’d been a long time coming. I guess it was around that time she decided she wanted me for real, and hell did I know it. She’d message me on my personal email, listing off fantasies she’d never fulfilled, and some of them made my mouth water, Lydia, some of them were so fucking filthy.”
“So, you fucked her?”
