It had worked out far better than I’d expected. I stretched my arms over my head and wriggled my bare bottom on the fine cotton sheets. We’d been lucky to get a room in this boutique hotel only a stone’s throw from the Small Bar. A smile hovered as I remembered the receptionist’s sniffy expression when Mark and I had rolled in the evening before, slightly the worse for the drink we’d consumed and obviously desperate to get a room.
I’d almost expected Ms Prim and Proper to say it wasn’t that kind of hotel, but instead, she’d taken Mark’s credit card when he’d passed it over and handed him a key card. She’d thrown me a critically dismissive look as she did so. Just me, not Mark. Some things never changed.
One thing that had, was Mark’s skill in the bedroom department. He’d learned a few tricks over the years and whereas I still faked an orgasm, I appreciated the dexterity he’d shown in attempting to get me there.
‘I’d forgotten how beautiful you were,’ he said as he’d rolled off me.
Were? It was a figure of speech but it still riled a little. ‘You mean I’m not now?’ I leaned on one elbow and rested a hand on his chest. Post-coital inertia combined with an excess of alcohol seemed to have made Mark a bit dull-witted because he didn’t immediately fire back with an of course you are. Instead, he looked at me blearily, eyelids drooping, his breathing growing deeper and more stertorous. If he started to snore, if he dared, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop myself from punching him. ‘Well?’ My voice up a notch, creeping towards a place that was more screeching harlot than elegant seductress.
Luckily for us both, Mark stirred. He ran a hand along my flank and opened his eyes wide. ‘You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. For a long time, every woman I met, I compared to you. Even when I met…’ He stopped suddenly.
Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to betray his wife. I swallowed the snort of amusement. That boat had sailed. Twice, actually. Maybe a third time would convince him. I ran a hand down his belly, lingering before dipping further, then pulling away as if I’d changed my mind. Then again, and again, until I hadn’t needed to move my hand quite so far down. Then I shimmied over and onto him and moved in a dance I’d learned long before, and I stared down at him, saw his face twist in pleasure, and thought how foolish he looked, how stupid it all was, how sad that it meant nothing to me. Less than nothing.
‘I’d forgotten what an absolutely amazing lover you are,’ I said a few minutes later, laying heavy emphasis on the are. I’d have liked to have rolled off him but an arm around my waist kept me clamped to his warm, sweaty body. But I was used to putting my needs and wants to one side to get what I wanted. It was usually worth it in the end. It would be this time. ‘It feels like the last twenty years have never happened, that we’re back there in my tiny, dingy room and all our future is there waiting for us. I’m just sorry I messed things up.’
His arm tightened around me, squeezing until I could barely breathe. I’d done a few rounds with erotic asphyxiation in the past. ‘It’ll heighten the orgasmic experience,’ they’d said each time. Refusing to confess I’d never had an orgasm, yet alone a heightened one, I’d gone along with it and screamed loudly at the appropriate time. Then I’d reciprocated, wondering at man’s capability for stupidity as I tightened scarves or ties around various men’s throats until they went blue. It would have been so easy to have kept the tension tight and to watch them die. I didn’t because I’d nothing to gain.
I’d nothing to gain from dying in this hotel room either. That definitely wasn’t in my plan. ‘I can’t breathe,’ I managed, pushing at his chest with my hand.
He released me with a muttered. ‘Sorry.’
I kissed him lightly then rolled off, snuggled my head into the soft pillow and waited. I could have almost predicted what he’d say. The same variation on a theme I’d heard from so many men over the years.
‘You know this can’t happen again, don’t you?’
Almost exactly the words I’d expected. ‘I know.’ I waited a beat. ‘If I’d only been brave enough to have told you the truth back then, maybe things would have turned out differently.’
I felt his hand search for mine, and close around it gently. ‘You going to be okay?’
‘I don’t know.’ The most honest I’d been all night. I didn’t know. It all depended on Mark and being dependant wasn’t a comfortable place for me. Ivan had done more than hurt my body; he’d dented my self-belief. ‘Meeting you again,’ I said quietly, ‘it’s been overwhelming. The regrets seem heavier somehow.’
‘I hate to think of you being so sad.’
‘I hate to think of never seeing you again.’ I took a shaky breath. ‘Perhaps we could meet tomorrow for lunch, or a coffee even, just to… you know… ease me back to a life without you more slowly.’ I held my breath, listening to the cogs turning in the head of the man lying beside me. I knew he’d say yes, just as I knew we’d end up back in this hotel, or some other one the following night, or perhaps the night after. Soon though, I could feel it in the silence that cloaked us, he wanted this.
He still hadn’t answered when he shuffled from the bed a few minutes later. ‘I have to go,’ he said, grabbing his clothes and pulling them on. He shoved his tie into his jacket pocket, then sat on the corner of the bed to tie his shoelaces.
I knew better than to ask him again, knew better than to nag. Anyway, I guessed what his answer would be.
‘Just coffee,’ he said, turning to look at me.
‘Just coffee.’
‘Okay, three o’clock in…’ He frowned, trying to think of somewhere suitable.
‘How about Spicer+Cole? It’s not far from the office; you could nip out for half an hour and no one would be any the wiser.’
My remark made his frown deepen. Perhaps harping on about the clandestine nature of our meeting was making him reconsider. I stretched a hand towards him and softened my voice, adding a hint of pleading. ‘It’ll mean so much to me, you know.’
I thought he was going to change his mind and was ready to argue my case when he got to his feet and nodded. ‘Okay, tomorrow at three for coffee.’ He took his mobile out. ‘You’d better give me your number, in case something comes up.’
I rattled it off, threw the sheet back and got to my feet to press my naked body against him. ‘I miss you already.’ Then I pushed him away with a whispered, ‘Go, please.’ Turning away, I held my hands over my face, staying in that dramatic over-the-top pose until I heard the door click shut behind him. Then I took them away and whooped softly.
He was caught in my web; he would struggle, but he was never going to break away.
He was mine.