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His heart hammered in his chest as he wound his arms around her waist, drawing her closer. Her full breasts pressed against his chest, pebbled nipples poking through the satin like diamonds, and he could feel the heat of her desire against his thigh. His hands, so large upon her tiny frame, trailed down her spine to seize her buttocks, causing her to gasp into the kiss as he pulled her against his hard arousal. It had been so long, he needed her. Now, atop the counter, against the fridge, on the floor, he didn’t care. He just had to have her...
“She really is quite beautiful, isn’t she?” Her words echoed in his ears, sending a hot shiver down his spine as an image of Rebecca appeared before his eyes. She was arching in pleasure, locked in his arms, whimpering softly as he tasted the hollow of her throat. It was only a momentary lapse, but the mental image was enough to make him jump back, breaking the embrace.
Flushed and breathless, Alice almost lost her balance, and she flashed him an insidious look that both chilled and enflamed his ardour. “What’s wrong?”
Fighting to catch his breath, Richard couldn’t meet her gaze as guilt’s cold fist turned his innards to ice. “We ca-can’t do this now. I promised to help Rebecca; her father will be home tomorrow. If I don’t go now, it’ll be too late.”
For a moment she looked as if she were about to protest, but she had always been fond of the girl and after a moment her face softened. She gave a short, defeated nod before turning away. “Fine, just don’t be too long.”
Her frosty tone was as much a dismissal as a slap in the face, yet as he departed the kitchen, he distinctly heard her declare, “I’ll be waiting.” The words were rich with promise, and he didn’t know whether to cheer or weep.
He knocked three times and then waited as the sound echoed nine times off the tower’s inner walls. The air was thick with the sickly-sweet reek of drugs and somewhere a couple were shouting, their thunderous curses echoing through the walls like clangs on a bell. However, he was too distracted by the painful ache in his groin to take much notice. Digging his hand into his pocket, he tried to relocate his still swollen erection, but the trousers were barely large enough for him to thrust himself down the right leg. The inner pent-up agony persisted, nonetheless.
Shifting uncomfortably, he raised his hand to knock again, only to hear the click of the lock’s inner mechanics unlocking before the door swung inward to reveal a vision of such beauty that Richard’s breath caught, his engorged flesh growing ever more painful. Gone were her tight blue jeans and pink floral top. Instead, Rebeca had changed into a lacy, black robe that was tied around her narrow waist and barely covered her pale ivory thighs. She had also taken her hair out of its braid so that it cascaded down her back in a tangle of lustrous dark curls and framed her soft features.
She lit up at the sight of him. “Oh Mr Martin, thank God, I was starting to worry you weren’t coming.”
Once again, Alice’s words echoed in his ears and Richard felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he realised he was staring. Flashing a hollow smile and praying she wouldn’t notice the bulge straining against his right trouser leg, he said, “Rebecca, how many times have I asked you to call me Richard? Mr Martin makes me sound like some whining old geezer.”
“Well, you are an old man, Mr Martin.” Giggling playfully, she stepped aside to let him enter. “Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”
“Ahh…tea, milk and two sugars please and, thanks,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm at the joke as he moved into the flat. The layout was almost identical to that of his and Alice’s and he quickly moved down the hall into the Blaire’s living room. With dim, off-cream walls and filled only by a small jumble of cheap mismatched furniture, it looked larger than it actually was.
A grubby old grey and blue denim sofa faced an even more ancient Panasonic television that had been mounted upon a near modern looking glass and steel stand that was certainly more functional than decorative. There was a single, three-tiered, mahogany veneer, bookcase, its shelves sagging under a dozen piles of dog-eared military and spy fiction paperbacks, a ceramic bowl atop a walnut look-alike end table under the window, as well as a massive opening night poster from the 80’s hit-movie Predator that had been framed and hung on a wall. At the back of the room, a tall display case of solid teak stood in stark contrast to the items of veneered plywood scattered around it and held an impressive collection of Rebecca’s swimming trophies. From a young age, the girl had been an avid swimmer and had even gone on to represent Gloucester in three county events, but after her parents’ divorce, she had lost much of her enthusiasm for the sport. Now she rarely went more than once or twice a month.
The computer desk stood opposite the display case, the laptop already open and booting up. It was an ancient HP that hadn’t been updated beyond Window’s Vista. Sitting on the threadbare ottoman that the Blaire’s employed as a chair and grimacing at the uncomfortable sensation in his semi-hard manhood, he logged into Rebecca’s account and was immediately confronted by the problem as a virus conjured up an obviously falsified police lockdown. He tapped a few select keys, but to no effect. Next, he tried to open the start menu, but the virus brought up a warning box and cancelled the command. Finally, he logged out and entered Derik’s account. The result was the same.
After a moment, Rebecca entered with his tea and placed it on an old Top Gear magazine lying beside the laptop. “Any luck?”
“Does this happen every time you log on?”
“Yes. It’s been like this now for two days,” she replied, her voice trembling as she peered far enough over his shoulder for him to taste her scent, reminding him of the first breath of spring. The scent steeled his length. “Can you fix it?”
Richard didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed down on the power button until the screen went blank. Restarting the machine, he quickly switched to safe mode before letting it load up. Again, logging into the girl’s profile, he waited a moment to make sure it didn’t change again before going into its control panel and initiating a system restore to the pre-set point. It was a pretty routine trick that would work 99 times out of a 100. However, when he logged on for the third time, the scowling face of the law immediately opposed him.
“It might take a while.”
Repeating the process of placing it in safe mode, he then filed through the recent system downloads and found that there were more than two hundred from the past thirty-six hours. He deleted them all, sipping his tea and cursing under his breath every time one or a dozen would randomly regenerate. When all of them were finally put down for good, he restarted the laptop and was finally met by Rebecca’s normal background of a ‘Hello Kitty’ poster.
Exhaling a long breath, he gratefully pushed away from the desk and stretched his legs out to relieve the cramp building in his knees. It felt like he’d been at the desk for hours, but his tea was still lukewarm, so it couldn’t have been any more than twenty minutes.
Throwing one leg over and around the ottoman, he twisted to face the sofa where Rebecca was now reclining, watching some cheesy Jennifer Aniston rom-com that was playing on ITV2 whilst eating from a carton of ice cream. The sight of her soft pink lips wrapped around the spoon sent a hot pulse straight down his spine and he heard her moan in delight, her soft brown eyes falling closed as she savoured its sweetness…
“There you go Rebecca, all done.”
“Really!” Startled out of her trance, her head whirled to face him and as she shifted, the lace of her gown moved with her, flashing him a momentary glimpse of her soft ivory bosom. “Ohhh…thank you, thank you, Mr Martin!”
“You’re welcome, Rebecca.” It was time to go; he knew it as well as he knew the desire stirring in his loins. And yet he could not will his legs to move. “But you should really consider updating your security, or perhaps switching to a more secure browser.”
“I know we do. I keep telling Dad, but he just ignores me. He thinks it will cost too much money. Ohhh…thank you so much Mr Martin, I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Then, almost giddy and still clutching her carton of ice cream, she sprang up from her seat and raced across the room to throw her arms around him in a tight hug. The embrace caught Richard off guard, and he could do little more than bask in the feeling of her young body pressed against him. He could feel her breath on his neck, hot as a furnace and tickling his every weak spot as the sweetness of her scent filled his every breath, causing a fog to descend upon his mind.
Time seemed to slip away. He couldn’t say for how long she clung to him, yet when she finally broke the embrace, he felt light-headed and she couldn’t meet his gaze. A blush touched her cheeks pink, and she quickly stepped back. He should go now. This was his chance, before things got even more complicated; all he had to do was politely say goodbye, leave, and then everything would be fine…
Yet the moment came and went, and the silence hung between them as a heavy iron collar, binding them to each other.
“You’re eating ice cream, what flavour?” he finally asked, desperate for anything that might ease the tension.
Rebecca, however, seemed to have forgotten all about the carton and it was only when she looked down and saw it there that she realised icy drops of condensation were running off her fingers. “Ohhh…it is Tesco’s Cherrylicious.” She had such a sweet voice. Why hadn’t he ever noticed it before? “Would you like some?”
