“Is it as beautiful as the pictures were online?” Izabel asked Gemma, balancing the phone beneath her ear as she shoved her laptop into her bag.
“Better,” Gemma replied, the line a little crackly. “White sand and the bluest water you’ve ever seen. And so hot, I broil myself every day.”
“Urgh, I hate you. It’s rainy here. Did you get the pictures of the new studio I sent you?”
“Yeah, I did. Thanks so much for popping over to take them. I know I should be excited and check-in more about the new opening, but…” Gemma said.
Izabel laughed. “Gem. It’s your honeymoon. No-one expects you to check in. You should be having lots of sun, sex, and sangria. I’ve spoken to the contractor every day. All the opening materials have been distributed. The on-line membership drive has exceeded the goals you set. It’s all good.”
“I’ve been thinking while I was here how I want the two studios to have two different vibes. With two different marketing approaches. Could you give it some thought?”
Izabel’s stomach tightened at the request. “Of course. I’ll also make sure to include the resources you’ll need for it to.” She winced slightly, glad Gemma couldn’t see her face.
“Resources?”
“Yeah. You know, if you have two different identities, you’ll need different campaigns, different newsletters, different events, different graphics and branding. It’s double the work.”
There was a long pause. A painful silence. “Can’t you absorb it into your role?”
“I think this is a conversation we should have when you come back.”
“Well, you know how to put a downer on my day.”
Urgh. She hated confrontation. Sometimes she wished she had more of a spine. “Let me look and what it will take, and I’ll have something for you to review when you get back. It will give us both an idea of the real work involved. Okay?”
“Fine,” Gemma said, but Izabel heard the huff.
“Anyway, I have to go. I’m late leaving here as it is. See you at the weekend, okay?”
“Okay. And grab me some basics, would you? Milk and stuff so I don’t have to shop straight away.”
“Will do.”
When she hung up the phone, she realised Gemma had instructed her to pick up groceries like she was her assistant. There was no please at the end of the request. The irony was, she’d already planned to. She’d held the spare key to Gemma’s Northern Quarter apartment forever. But suddenly it felt like an order that over-stepped the boundaries of employer-employee, and worse, friendship.
She was still thinking about it an hour later as she helped Ibrahim serve up dinner.
“After dinner is served, can you help Jon out?”
“What’s the matter with him?” Izabel asked Ibrahim as they put the hot food into the containers they served from.
Usually gregarious, he currently sat in the corner with his arms wrapped tightly around his chest, a grim frown on his face.
“Toothache,” Ibrahim said, straining the mixed vegetables. “Came in like that earlier. He also skipped on biscuits.”
“Is it okay if you finish up here and I go talk to him?”
“Sure. But be quick.”
Izabel grabbed a three-pack of Jon’s favourite biscuits and headed in his direction. “You’re looking pretty glum, Jon. Everything okay?”
Jon shook his head, a fractional back and forth.
She crouched down in front of him and took his hand. His skin felt like sandpaper. “Do you need someone to talk to?” she asked quietly.
“Do you have any painkillers?” he muttered, barely moving his jaw.
“We aren’t allowed to hand out medication at the shelter, but what do you need?”
Gingerly, Jon touched a hand to the side of his face. “I’ve got the worst toothache. Can barely talk, move my jaw, hurts all down the side of my face, neck, and throat when I swallow.”
“Have you tried the dentist?”
Jon nodded. “Tried to register with one today, but you know how funny they are about people without permanent addresses.” He winced and swallowed while holding his throat.
“They sent you away?”
Jon nodded again.
“For the record, they aren’t allowed to. They are meant to enter the dental practice’s address as the patient’s address. Let me go talk to Ibrahim and see what we can do. You just sit tight, okay?” She squeezed Jon’s shoulder.
“He’s a very stoic man,” she told Ibrahim. “For him to be showing this much pain, I need to do something. The University Dental Hospital has a drop-in for emergencies. If I hustle, I bet they could see Jon before they close for the day. You should take him.”
Ibrahim looked around the shelter where a large evening crowd were hungry for dinner. “I can’t. Plus, he trusts you more. You should take him, then, even though it’s not the best timing.”
Izabel winced. She’d been hoping for an early night so she could work on the plan for Gemma. “Fine. I’ll take him.”
Three hours and one emergency surgery later, Jon was totally out of it. His wisdom tooth had pierced the skin of his cheek leading to a raging infection.
“These are antibiotics for the infection,” said Dr. Atkins, the young male dentist, waving the first box at Jon and speaking slowly. “These are anti-inflammatories, and these are pain killers. It’s imperative you don’t exceed the doses on the box or sell them instead of taking them yourself.”
Izabel snatched them out of the doctor’s hand and passed them to Jon. “Jon, I ordered an Uber, can you go wait for it outside and watch for it? A silver Toyota.”
Jon nodded and shuffled slowly outside as Izabel turned her attention to the doctor. “He’s homeless, not stupid. Don’t speak to him like he’s five. He’s a veteran, not a drug addict, so be respectful. The Advisory Council on the Misuse of Drugs published their report last year through the government and it states, and I quote, “the needs of people who are homeless, particularly rough sleepers, are not well met by mainstream benefits, health and social care and some drug services”. They recommended education for people like yourselves to ensure they are treated with respect. Stop judging people you don’t know.”
His face paled as his jaw slackened.
“He lives and I work at the Anderson Shelter in Ancoats. We could do with an outreach dentist to see those who live there. Twice a month would be sufficient.” She reached into her purse and pulled out her card. “Here’s my number if you’d like to volunteer.”
She marched out of the hospital into the cool night air. “Autumn’s here,” she said, as she reached Jon.
“You’re a good girl, Izabel.” Jon’s words were slurry because of all the numbing. “Thanks for sorting me out.”
Izabel patted his arm. “No worries, Jon. Perhaps next time you could let me know before it becomes so severe though.”
Jon shook his head. “It’s all too complicated. Dentists, council housing, and the likes. Too many hoops to jump through. Makes me feel like a scrounger.”
“Then let me jump through them for you, Jon. Let me be your advocate in this. It doesn’t exhaust me, and screw those who think you’re scrounging.”
“Fine. I’m tired of this shit. Exhausted by the stress of it.”
A fire lit deep within her. “I’ve got you, Jon. I’ll start in the morning.”
When they got back to the shelter, things were beginning to wind down for the night. Curfew was ten o’clock. Ibrahim gave Jon directions to which room his bed was in. Once the room was quiet, Ibrahim rubbed his hands over his face. “We got a letter today.”
Izabel’s stomach dropped. A far fall after Jon’s acceptance of her offer of help. “What did it say?”
“It’s confirmed. The building has been sold. As part of the deal, the developer has agreed to let us stay through the winter, but come spring, we’re out.”
“Maybe we’ll find something better.”
Ibrahim raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “Always the optimist.”
“No, I’m serious. Think about it. We have time to figure this out. Time to plan and fundraise.”
Ibrahim ran his hand through his hair. “Izabel. We pay rock bottom rent. You looked, and the only places even remotely in our price range were miles outside the city centre. I think when we get turfed out of here, I might dissolve this place.”
“What, no. What about all those people in there?” she said, pointing toward the sleep areas.
“They’re the city’s problem.”
“You don’t mean that, Ibrahim. You sound jaded.”
“I don’t mean it callously. But maybe if there were less charities and more homeless on the street, the city council would be forced to change the policies they have in place that led to them being there. We’re the final part of the solution, Izabel. We catch people when every other system has failed them. Mental health funding, housing benefit policies, employment support, addiction treatment. Everything is underfunded, and the only discussion the city council wants to have is how it’s the government’s fault for shorting the city.”
“Do you know what, Ibrahim? I refuse to be defeated. This is the dark moment, you know, like in every movie things have to look bleak before something miraculous happens. I’m not giving up on the shelter without a fight. So, I’m going to go home, get some sleep, and come back tomorrow and start to figure out how we raise funds to get through this.”
Ibrahim grinned. “You’re an angel. I’m glad you did your Duke of Edinburgh award here. And I’m glad you applied for this job when you did. I’d be lost without you. You’ve been a constant force of optimism.”
“Thanks, Ibrahim. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Once on the bus home, she glanced down at her phone. A little after ten o’clock. How had it got so late? Her stomach grumbled and she realised she’d missed dinner. The smell of shawarma and curry filled the bus as it travelled down the curry mile. Perhaps she could jump off the bus and grab take out. If she got a kebab, she could even eat it on the bus.
Just as she was about to turn off her phone and get off the bus, a message popped up on her screen.
Where are you?
Matt.
Just on the bus, debating getting off for takeout because I missed dinner. Where are you?
Just finished a pub gig. I need to see you.
Luke?
On his way to Oldham with a blonde called Dani. Come stay with me tonight. I’ll even feed you.
It had been two days since the incident in the hallway. Two days during which she’d relived the orgasm approximately three hundred times.
I’ll be there in thirty minutes.
I’ll beat you home.
She spent the thirty minutes wondering exactly what he’d do to her once she got there.
“I didn’t realise how hungry I was,” Izabel groaned.
Matt had reined in his need to strip her and take her against the door, settling instead for a chaste kiss before hurrying back to keep an eye on the food under the grill. Adrenaline still burned through his veins like it always did after a concert. Riding the natural high of a gig that went better than expected.
Now, he wanted nothing more than to eat their food and rip each other’s clothes off before spending the next ten hours in bed.
“I wanted to give you our “how we got together story,” he said.
A smile lit her face. “Fish finger sandwiches are always perfect. How did the gig go?”
Matt shook his head. “It went really well, but I’m so over playing pubs. But it means I’m home early and you’re here. So, all in all, a top fucking night. How was your night?”
Izabel grinned. “I spent the last four hours at an emergency dental clinic with Jon, one of our regulars. It means I’m home late and I’m here. So, like you, all in all, a top fucking night.”
Matt popped the final bite of his sandwich into his mouth and grabbed some kitchen roll to wipe his hands. He placed his palms on Izabel’s knees, rubbing them along her calves with some tension to massage her muscles as she ate the last few bites of her food.
Once she’d finished, Izabel bit her lip, and he leaned forward to kiss her. “That lip’s mine to chew on,” he muttered as he stood between her knees, kissing her like a starved man.
“I need to shower,” he groaned.
“So do I.”
He pulled back from her a little. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated so he could barely see the pale green. The idea of her wet and soapy in his shower was more than his system could process. Furiously, he began to strip Izabel naked. Her denim jacket, the soft white T-shirt, the black leggings. Meanwhile, Izabel slid her fingers beneath the hem of his T-shirt and tugged it over his head. They were down to their underwear before they reached the hallway. Naked before they hit the bathroom.
His dick ached for her.
On the way past the vanity unit, he grabbed a condom and placed it on the ledge in the shower.
Izabel turned the water on, and for a moment, he paused to take in the curved lines of her, like the lines of his guitar. And just like his guitar, he wanted to play her all night long.
Izabel turned around to face him, tilting her head back beneath the spray as she ran her hands through her hair. He stepped forward and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, causing her to gasp.
“Matt,” she said, moving her fingers from her hair to his own. He loved when she tugged.
“I can’t believe I get to do this, Iz. Be with you like this.”
Iz pulled his face to hers and he let her. She could have him anyway she wanted if she kept looking at him with all the trust and lust and love in her eyes. The way she smiled at him could guarantee her anything she wanted.
Matt stepped beneath the spray with her and pulled him to her, kissing her deeply. The way she melted against him turned the hardened pieces of his heart to mush.
When she dropped to her knees in front of him, just out of the spray of the shower, he grasped her chin. “You don’t have to do that,” he growled. He meant it. She didn’t. But, fuck, if she really wanted to, he wasn’t going to get in her way.
“I’ve been thinking about it since our phone call. My hair was down, right?” She reached for his dick and his whole body tensed as her fingers gripped him.
“Right.” He should come up with something a little more encouraging but seeing his entire blood supply was currently in his dick and not his brain, he was fucked.
“Damn, no black underwear.”
Matt laughed desperately. “Sweetheart, I don’t give a fuck about the underwear.”
“Did I suck on your head, first, or run my tongue across the tip? I don’t remember.” She looked up at him, a playful glint in her eye.
“For the love of God, just pick one.”
Izabel leaned forward and placed her lips around the tip of his dick. The sight of those plump lips of hers dragging against his skin, and the wet warmth of her mouth had him slamming his hands to the walls either side of the shower. “Izabel,” he groaned.
She moved her head, back and forth, taking him deeper and then releasing him. The tip of her tongue dragged along the underside of his cock, sending a thousand sensations coursing through his body. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, his spine tingled, his legs felt as though he’d drunk twenty pints and they’d lost the will to take his weight any longer.
He let her play with him for a few moments longer. Agonisingly intense moments. But before he lost all sense of control and came right where he stood, he reached down and lifted her from her knees.
“One day I’ll let you finish that, but right now, I need to be inside you.” Matt reached for the condom and pulled it on. He spun her around, so her hands were pressed against the white subway tile.
He slid his hands down her wet stomach, over her mound, until his fingers reached her clit. The movement caused her to press against his dick, the slip ’n’ slide driving him wild. Slowly, he circled her clit before sliding one, and then a second finger, deep inside her.
“Matt,” Izabel groaned as she ground against his hand.
“Yeah, sweetheart. You want this?”
“So much,” she gasped.
He should wait, get her closer to the orgasm she so obviously wanted from him. But, fuck, he needed to bury himself deep inside her more than he needed his next breath.
“Ready?” he asked, sliding his fingers out of her.
She lowered her hands on the tile a little, stepped back against to there was an arch in her back. When she looked over her shoulder at him, those pale green eyes of hers looking straight at him, he could barely think straight.
Dick in hand, he looked down between them, and pressed into her warmth. He’d had sex before, but right now, under the LED spotlight of his bathroom, he realised just how meaningless it had all been. Fun, sure. But meaningless all the same.
Putting one hand on the tile while the other held her hip exactly where he wanted her, he slid forward with a grunt. “So tight, Iz. So. Fucking. Tight.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re so big,” she gasped, as he eased out and reseated himself, this time to the hilt.
He held himself there, feeling the flutters of her around him. “It’s perfect. Heaven.”
He slid out, one long, smooth draw as far as he could without leaving her body completely. Connection. That’s what he craved. A full body connection with Izabel. He nudged her forward until she was flush with the wall, until his entire body pressed up against the back of hers. He bent his knees and thrust upward, feeling the way his chest slid over her back, the feel of her arse pressed up against his groin. He grabbed her hands, linking their fingers, and Izabel squeezed them in return.
She turned her head to the side, and he clumsily found her lips, his forehead mashed up against the tile. The way she gasped against his mouth cranked him up. He’d immobilised her. There was nowhere for her to move, no way for her to do anything other than take it. And the fact she let him caused his dick to pulse in pending release.
He transferred her wrists into one of his hands and slid the other between Izabel and the wall. He squeezed her breast, kneading it as she moaned loudly. Her soft whimper when he stopped made him grin.
“I’m going to play with your clit, Izabel. I’m going to play with it until this all crashes over you like a symphony. You can’t go anywhere, you can’t do anything but take it.”
Izabel strained on her toes. He could feel her legs shake. “Matt, please. Just make me come.”
“I’m going to, sweetheart. Wait for me.”
He sped up his thrusts, desperate to finish with her. The sounds of their skin slapping against each other, the water pouring between them, the steam making everything seem so much more intense. He reached her clit and began to strum it with his thumb. Up and down like she was his favourite melody.
“Matt,” she cried hoarsely.
“Yeah. I feel it.”
Her soft whimper broke the last vestige of his control. He took her like a man possessed. Fast and deep, pounding into her with a need that couldn’t be satisfied.
“I’m so close,” she gasped.
“Yeah. Let me have it. Let me feel you.”
And she did, her body losing any sense of rhythm as she contracted around him. The sound of her cries tipped him over the edge. A large roar started in his head, reverberated through his body, and hammered through his balls until he came furiously inside her.
He yelled out her name. Probably a string of unintelligible curse words. His body continued spasm as if his orgasm could last for ever.
He’d been rough, dominating even, but she’d taken it and loved it. Wrapping his arms around her, he held tightly, pressing kisses to the side of her neck, to her shoulder.
“You’re a revelation,” he muttered when he regained his breath and senses.
“I am?”
Suddenly, it wasn’t enough to just have her in his arms. He reached between them and pulled out of her. Izabel shivered in his arms. The water was going cool. They weren’t scrubbed and soaped, but the water had washed away the sweat.
“Yeah. You are.” He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose before turning off the tap.
Gently, he dried her, then himself, and led her to his room. To his bed.
Quickly, he braided her hair, taking the elastic she always had around her wrist and fastened it at the bottom.
“Get in,” he encouraged, following closely behind her.
“Night, Matt,” she said, as she cuddled up against his side.
He placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Night, Iz.”
Matt’s last thought before he fell asleep, was just how fucking perfect it felt.