The Story Of Us - Jones Lesley (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации сокращений txt) 📗

“What?” I asked confused.

“It’s not funny, look at poor Hilda, my Dad’s gonna kill me!”

Cam instantly stopped laughing. “Shit.” I heard him hiss.

“I think you’ll find it’s me that he kills kitten.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Don’t worry Tiger, I’ll protect ya.” I winked at him.

CHAPTER 11

After tiptoeing back to Cam’s office, pulling on his joggers and spending half an hour giving a statement to the Police, I was ready to go home. I’d managed to get back there before everyone else came barging in and throw my clothes in the wardrobe, ashamed with myself for being so slutty with Cam earlier and taking them off. I had no idea where I was going with my little strip tease, it was most definitely not what I had been intending to do when he dragged me in here. I had wanted to claw at his face initially, not his back, but there was just something about him, something that I couldn’t say ‘no’ to and I needed to get it under control. I wasn’t ready to feel yet, that wall around my heart wasn’t ready to come down. I doubted very much that Cam was interested in anything more than sex and I was so afraid I’d want more and I don’t think my heart could be rebuilt if it were to be broken again.

I had noticed that as the Police were leaving that they had told ‘Mr King’ that they’d be in touch and I sat twirling faster and faster in the big leather chair behind Cam’s desk while he showed the nice Policemen out. It occurred to me that he’d named his wine bar after himself, flash bastard, funny actually though, as the club my Dad had bought into was called Kings. I let these thoughts wander through my brain as I stared up at the ceiling whilst still spinning madly in the chair. It suddenly jolted to a stop and I was turned around slowly to meet Cam’s brown eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Twirling, you should try it, its fun.” His lips twitched in the slightest of smiles; he pulled me out of the chair, sat himself down in it, pulled me into his lap and began to twirl us both around while he held on to me, a little too tightly, I lifted my legs up, put my feet on his legs and curled into him.

“You’re right.”

“I’m female, of course I’m right.” He gave out a really big, loud, laugh, which for some reason made me smile.

“Oh Kitten, you do make me laugh.”

“Why? I didn’t say anything funny, I just stated a fact.”

“Is that right?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

He shook his head but smiled, reached out for the desk, grabbed it and stopped the chair from spinning anymore, we sat still and silent for a few seconds, blue eyes into brown, he stroked his finger over my cheek, circled it around my chin, and then traced the outline of my lips.

I forgot to breathe.

“You are all bullshit and bravado, why do you put on such a hard front kitten? All spitting and snarling, when I don’t think that’s really you at all.” I bit his finger as it lingered on my lips, probably using a little more force than was necessary. He shook his head, again.

“Why are you always shaking your head at me?’

He strokes up and down my arm, over the curve of my shoulder. “Am I?”

“Yep.”

“Perhaps it’s because you frustrate me.”

“You barely know me, how do I frustrate you?” I don’t know if I feel hurt that he thinks this or happy that I have at least some kind of effect on him. Do I want to have some kind of effect on him? God I don’t know, I don’t know anything where he’s concerned. My life might be a mess right now but it’s a mess I have control over and that’s the way I want it to stay. I don’t want my emotions roller-coastering all over the place; in fact, I don’t think I’m ready for emotions of any kind in my life right now. I’ve survived the last few years without them and I think that I’ll manage without them for the next few.

“You frustrate me because you so obviously put on a front; I wish you would just be yourself, at least for me.”

“Why, why does it matter who, or what I am around you?” He twirls my hair around his fingers, it’s such a simple thing but for me, so intimate.

Yes I’ve had sex with men, ten of them in fact, over the last six months and some would say that’s the ultimate act of intimacy, but not for me. For me, it was a cold and unfeeling act of power and control. I rarely let them kiss me, I gave them the best sex they’d ever had but just that, they got no part of me whatsoever. I didn’t hold hands with them, unless they took mine and left me with no choice, I didn’t stroke or lick or suck. I just fucked, but I did it so well that they couldn’t get enough, just so that I could hear them say those three little words then have the pleasure of walking away, but this, him playing with my hair like this, was so much more intimate to me than anything else I’d experienced in the last six months. It was the most intimate thing I’d done with any man since Sean!

“Because I like you Kitten, I like you a lot and I want to get to know you, the real you, not the spitting, clawing alley cat you seem to want people to think that you are, and the first thing I want to know is what’s made you like this? Who did this to you? What did they do… hmm?” He raises his eyebrows at me like he’s actually waiting for an answer, well fuck that, I’m not spilling my guts to him so that I can get the pitying look I’ve got from everyone else these past five years.

“I need to go home; I’ll get my Dad to arrange for my car to be towed tomorrow.” I move to slide off of his lap.

“Don’t go, don’t run away Georgia, stay and talk to me.” He holds me in his lap, his hands on my hips, his eyes looking right into mine, through mine, into me and I have to go, I can’t have him seeing through me, into me, to the real me, I can’t.

“I need to go Cam, please let me go.” He shakes his bloody head at me again.

“You’re shaking your head.”

“Coz you’re frustrating the fuck out of me. Would you have had sex with me, earlier, before little limp dick went all mental and started smashing things up? If we hadn’t been interrupted, would you’ve let me fuck you?” My cheeks burn with embarrassment at the thought of my earlier behaviour, I shake my head very slightly.

“No Cam, you wouldn’t have fucked me… but I might have fucked you.” He lets out a deep breath, almost a hiss, through his teeth.

“Get your stuff, I’ll take you home and don’t worry about your car, I’ve got someone coming for it now, I’ll get it fixed up for you.”

“You don’t have to do that, it’s my own fault, I behaved badly, and I got what I deserved.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “But do you want to be the one to tell your Dad what happened and why? Do you want your Dad’s blokes out looking for little dick, seems to me, the poor blokes got enough problems without Frank Layton putting a price on his tiny balls.”

I actually laugh out loud at the thought of Lee and his little cock and balls being chased by my Dad; shit he’s right, the least my Dad knows about the damage to my car the better. I chew on the inside of my lip.

“Okay but I want a receipt for the work, I want to pay the bill and make sure you tell them to be gentle with her, she’s getting on and needs to be handled with love.”

He frowns. “Who?”

“Hilda.”

“Fuck, right, yeah, of course, Hilda the Triumph Herald, how could I forget?” He smiles as he speaks, he looks so young when he smiles and I wonder again how old he actually is. I’m guessing twenty-nine, thirty…

“How old are you Cam?”

“Old as my tongue, bit older than my teeth,” he says with a shrug and looks away from me.

“My Nan always used to say that and she was like eighty or something when she died, are you as old as her?”

“Fuck off, let’s get you home.”

Cam dropped me off at my flat and we came to an arrangement whereby he would sort out the cost of the damage to my car as long as I agreed to go out for dinner with him Saturday night. I agreed. Of course I agreed there was just something about him that made me want to agree and try as I might, I didn’t seem to be able to fight it.