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I check the table again and straighten the knife and fork. The salad is ready and the steak is marinating, exactly like Maria does it. I just need to fry it ten minutes before we’re ready to eat. I toss the salad again and put it on the table. I’ve got some flatbread warming in the oven, and I’ve made a tomato salsa and fried some patatas bravas for a starter.
I hear the key in the lock, slide off the chair and smooth my dress. I’m wearing the one he bought me. I washed it today and it’s the nicest thing I have here.
‘Hi,’ I whisper, a smile creeping over my face at the sight of him.
‘Hi.’ He looks at the table, at me, then at the kitchen. He drops his keys on the counter.
‘You weren’t teaching today?’ I ask, glancing at his suit.
‘I was, but then I had a business meeting.’
‘I prepared dinner.’
‘I can see that.’
‘Hope you don’t mind.’
A smile touches the corner of his mouth. ‘Why would I mind?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t ask you?’
He shakes his head and walks to the bedroom. I follow him and watch him hang up his jacket.
‘You don’t need to ask permission to cook me dinner, little bird.’
I lean against the door frame. He looks at me, standing tall, shoulders back.
‘Come here.’
He beckons me; I go to him and stand before him.
‘You look beautiful tonight, Dale.’
‘It’s the dress you chose.’
‘I have good taste.’
‘You do,’ I whisper.
‘But you always look beautiful, no matter what you wear,’ he murmurs.
A shiver of excitement runs through me. His words seem to speak directly to my core and heat it. He runs his finger over my cheek.
‘Put the shoes on.’
‘Oh.’ I look down at my bare feet, then hurry to my bedroom. When I come back he’s in the kitchen, pouring himself a whisky. My heels make a clicking sound on the marble floor and he turns, his eyes running from my head to my feet and moving over the curves of my legs.
‘That’s better. Come here.’
‘I just need to...’ I go to the oven and turn it off just in time to save the flatbread from burning. When I stand up and put the warm bread on the side, his eyes are still on me. He reaches out and takes my wrist, pulling me to him, then lifts me easily onto the counter. He cups my face, raising my mouth to his.
‘I missed you today,’ he says, before pressing his lips to mine, his fingers burrowing in my hair, holding my face close to his. He holds his body against me, opening my legs. I’m flushed, the room suddenly feels very hot.
My eyes close as we kiss. His tongue brushes mine and with each hungry caress waves of excitement sweep through me. His arms are strong around me, holding me to him. I kiss him, enjoying the scratch of his stubble and spicy masculine scent of his aftershave. I move my hands over his back and down his arms, exploring the curve of his muscles, tensed as he holds me. His lips break from mine as he kisses my chin, my neck, then he’s moving down to my cleavage. His hands are behind my back, opening the zip of my dress and pulling it off my shoulders. His mouth finds my breast and I feel a surge of warmth before he moves lower. I shiver with expectation.
He sweeps aside the fabric of my knickers, then holds my thighs open and lowers his face to my body. The heat of his breath sends prickles of excitement to my core. I rest my hands on his shoulders as his head moves between my legs. His tongue is hot and urgent. He licks me, each touch sending hot ripples of pleasure through me. Just when I’m about to lose it he stops and moves his mouth to my inner thighs. I cry out. I don’t want him to stop – not now.
But he reaches into his pocket and takes out a condom. I watch him opening the packet and putting it on. My eyes are fixed on his erection and my body is hot and wanting, the anticipation building. He wraps his arms around my neck again and kisses me. Harder and faster than the first time, his tongue owning my mouth, his hands in my hair. I gasp into his mouth as he enters me. He takes his lips from mine and lifts me off the counter, thrusting while holding my weight, his hands under my bottom. I suck in a breath. He fucks me hard and fast, going deep each time. I cling to his neck, not wanting to let go. He pushes me up against the wall, squeezing against me, and his lips find mine again. He groans and I grip him, clinging on as if my life depended on it as he comes.
When he eventually lowers me to my feet, I’m exhausted. I lean against his chest.
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.’ He smiles. I bend over to retrieve my dress from its abandon on the floor and slowly slide it back on.
We sit down to eat, and I watch as he spoons some of the homemade salsa onto a piece of flatbread.
‘This is good, Dale.’
‘It’s Maria’s recipe.’
He nods approvingly. ‘I could get used to this sort of welcome home.’
I smile. His compliment makes me happier than I would have expected.
‘What sort of meeting did you have tonight?’ As the words leave my mouth, I regret asking. I don’t want to know. Probably as much as he doesn’t want to tell me.
He leans back, his forearms on the table. ‘I went with my brother to see the new bar we’re opening.’
‘When will it open?’
‘It’s almost ready.’
‘Cool, I’d like to see it,’ I say, then I look at my fingers. ‘I mean, it would be cool to see it.’
‘You will see it. You’ll come with me to the opening.’
‘I’d like that a lot.’ I look at him. ‘Slater?’
‘Dale?’ He tilts his head, waiting for me to continue.
‘Can I tell you something?’
‘Anything.’
‘Don’t be angry.’
‘I can’t promise that.’ He’s watching me intently.
‘I was surprised when you showed me your book cupboard.’
He leans back, a smile playing on his lips. ‘Thought I was just a pretty face, huh?’
‘Kind of.’ I feel bad admitting it. ‘But you know which book surprised me the most?’
‘The Honourable Schoolboy?’ He grins.
‘No. Crime and Punishment.’
‘Ah.’
‘It’s just not a book that people pick up casually.’
‘What makes you think I picked it up casually?’ He takes a sip from his wine glass.
‘What made you read that one?’
He pauses before answering. ‘I had some stuff to figure out and I needed some help.’
‘Did it help?’
‘In a way, I guess. Made me realise I should trust myself more.’
‘I haven’t read it.’
‘No? I recommend it. But it’s heavy.’
‘It didn’t come up in my degree. I will read it, though, I love the Russian authors.’
‘You didn’t cover Dostoevsky? What sort of literature degree is it?’
He’s smiling but there’s something in his voice I can’t make out. Is it resentment? Bitterness?
‘I’ve got my final exams in two days. I need to go to uni.’
‘Not yet. It’s not safe yet. It’s not worth rushing.’ He shakes his head and puts down his wine glass.
He answered so fast, not even considering it. I try to stay calm; clearly, he doesn’t realise the importance of this.
‘I’ve been studying for three years. If I don’t do these exams, I won’t be able to graduate.’
‘Can’t you do them online?’
‘No.’
‘Did you ask?’
‘I haven’t, but I don’t need to. I know I can’t do them online. They have to be done in exam conditions. All exams are done in exam conditions.’
‘Tell them you had to leave the country or something.’
‘Slater, you don’t get it. They won’t care what excuse I give, they’ll just tell me to come back and sit them at the end of the autumn term.’
‘I don’t get it because I didn’t go to university, you mean?’ He opens the second button on his shirt. ‘Why don’t you just sit them at the end of the autumn term? What’s wrong with that? Or is it too complicated for a knucklehead like me to understand?’
‘Slater, please. I’ve been studying so long.’
‘I may not understand about universities and that shit but I know enough about the real world and I can tell you it’s not safe yet.’ He shakes his head. ‘It’s for your own good, little bird, why are we even arguing about it?’
‘You said I wouldn’t be a prisoner here and I can’t even finish my degree? Papa would never stop me from doing this.’
‘No, but he let a man come into your home and try to kill you. I’m not like your father, Dale. Remember that.’
Anger explodes within me. He doesn’t even care that this is important to me. I stand up. Why does everyone treat me like a child? It’s not like anyone’s going to hurt me in the middle of an exam.
‘You can’t stop me from finishing my degree and doing my exams. I’m going to go, no matter what you say.’
He stands up, his face hardening. ‘No, you are not.’
‘Yes, I am.’ I cross my arms over my chest.
‘No. You won’t leave this apartment until I tell you it’s safe for you to do so.’
‘We’ll see,’ I mutter.