‘Good grief woman … what a body! How do you ever keep your hands off him long enough to draw him?’
Cathy had insisted on seeing the portfolio, and while Jess had managed to sneak a few of her drawings out of it and stash them away, there hadn’t been a way around showing her friend some of her work, despite the fact that the vast majority of the drawings were nude studies of Ellis.
‘It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it. But he insisted on modelling for me. It was a case of “draw me like one of your French boys” and he just stripped off.’
Her friend’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you sure he wasn’t stripped off already? He has the look of a well-satisfied man about him in this one.’ Cathy lifted one of the larger drawings Jess had done on the big pad. ‘And if this is what he’s like when he’d deflated, he must be pretty eye-watering when he’s got a stiffy.’
‘Cathy!’
‘I’m only stating the patently obvious,’ Cathy said. ‘You’re a very lucky girl. And to think you nearly gave him the elbow. You must have been mad to even think about letting him go.’
Despite her blushes, Jess shivered, as if temperature in the kitchen had just dropped dramatically. She was going to have to let Ellis go; if he didn’t let her go first.
‘What’s up?’ Her friend was nothing if not perceptive.
‘It’s not a proper relationship, you know. It’s just a quick “thing”. We’ve slept together a bit, but that’s about the size of it, Cath. Nothing more. He doesn’t want anything more than that. He’s a loner, really.’ Reaching for the drawings, she swept them up and put them into her portfolio, putting ultimate temptation out of sight. ‘Shall we have a cup of tea? I’m dying for one.’
‘Well, you can change the subject now, buddy, but I’m not letting you off the hook that easily. I think you need to talk about this. He might be a loner, but I know you … and I don’t think you are a loner any more. Not now.’
‘Don’t be daft.’
‘Make the tea, woman. And break out some more of those triple choc crumble crunch cookies he sent you. I think we’re going to need them.’
Cathy was three biscuits in when she accused Jess. ‘You’re in love with him, aren’t you?’
‘No way! I hardly know him.’
‘Yes way, kiddo. You’ve fallen hard. It’s obvious in your face when you talk about him, and as for the drawings … well, I’ve never seen you do better. They’re drawn with love, Jess, which is what makes them so alive, so luminous.’
Setting out to catch up with her friend’s cookie consumption, Jess chewed mutinously before answering, ‘It’s not love, Cath. I like him. I really do. He’s so gorgeous he’s like a fantasy made real, and, let’s face it, any woman’s bound to have a special feeling for the first man she slept with.’
‘I don’t. It was a quickie behind the changing rooms at the sports centre, and it was horrible. Luckily, I can barely remember what he looked like.’ Cathy dunked expertly.
‘Well, a woman who had a nice first time. And I did. To the best of my limited knowledge, he’s a pretty spectacular lover, and I’ll always remember him fondly for that.’ Jess dunked with less finesse and nearly lost her biscuit.
‘“Remember him fondly” … you’re talking like you’ll never see him again. The man you love.’
‘I don’t love him and I might never see him again. We’ve not made any specific plans. It was just an “I’ll call you …” and I’ve heard that line often enough, even if he’s the only one I’ve ever slept with.’ Jess took another cookie, but when she bit into it, it almost tasted like ashes.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, “I’ll call you” isn’t always the brush off, Jess. Sometimes it just means what it says. That he’ll call you. He hasn’t behaved like a git thus far. Why should he start now?’
Cathy was so sensible, so down to earth. She made it sound as if there was hope, when there really shouldn’t be any. Jess started blinking as she stared fiercely at her teacup, furious with herself for feeling and behaving like a ninny. She just couldn’t let Ellis McKenna get to her. She couldn’t let her feelings for him take away her sense of her own agency and make her dependent on the very first man who’d crossed her bedpost. All these years, she’d managed alone, making her own way, not defining herself by any relationship with a man. Now was no time to change and become a whinging, whiney wimp, pining and wailing for someone she could never have.
A box of tissues slid across the table towards her. Damn, she was snivelling!
‘He wouldn’t be behaving like a git. It’s just me behaving like an idiot, and getting all infatuated with the first man who ever fancied me.’
‘You’re not. And he isn’t.’
‘What do you mean?’
Cathy shoved the cookies her way now, and realising she’d eaten the other one on auto pilot, Jess took another. It tasted better this time. Fabulous in fact. Nothing but the best for Ellis.
‘One, you’re not behaving like an idiot. You’ve just fallen for an amazing, but probably emotionally difficult man. And two, plenty of men have fancied you.’
‘Like who?’
‘Men we’ve met when we’ve been out. You always pull admiring looks. And the guys you’ve been out with, they must have fancied you, even if you didn’t let them get to first base.’ Cathy frowned. ‘And what about that nice bloke at art class you mentioned? Josh Somebody? Sounds like he fancies you.’
‘Okay, so a few guys have been interested, and I have fallen for Ellis. What the hell do I do about it? There’s no future with him. I think he intends always to be emotionally bonded to his wife, even if he sleeps with other women.’
‘If he calls, you should keep on seeing him for as long as it lasts. Have fun. Have great sex. Get a few good presents out of him. He is a billionaire, after all.’ Cathy’s look was no nonsense, even if Jess was shaking her head. ‘And if there is no future with him, at least you’ll have something wonderful to look back on, and you’ll probably get him out of your system better that way, rather than if you do a runner now and then spend the rest of your days wondering about the one that got away.’
Jess took a deep breath and drank some of her tea. Yes, she had to shape up. Ellis wouldn’t call, but in the remote eventuality that he did, she decided that she would see him again. She’d be in control of her destiny, and pragmatic. He was just too wonderful to say no to, even if it would probably hurt more in the long run.
‘You’re right, Cath. He probably won’t call, but if he does, I’ll give him a chance.’
‘Good girl. And he will call.’
‘Ever the optimist. He won’t.’
‘Will.’
‘Won’t.’
Beside her plate, on the table, her phone vibrated and trilled. The display, whilst not exhibiting ten-foot-high letters of fire, might as well have done.
Ellis.
‘What did I tell you?’ said eagle-eyed Cathy, leaping up. ‘I’ll be taking a bath. You need your privacy, kiddo. And remember what I said. Carpe diem and all that.’
As she disappeared out of the kitchen, Jess tapped ‘accept’.
‘Er … hello?’ Great start. Sound like an idiot, why don’t you?
‘Hi Jess, are you okay?’ Ellis didn’t sound like an idiot, just a man with a low, thrilling voice and an interesting all over the world accent. Just those few words made the tiny hairs on her skin stand up as if his breath had just drifted across them.
‘I’m fine, thanks. I just didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. I’m not complaining though. You just surprised me. Where are you?’
‘I’m in the back of a limousine, going about as fast as we legally can down the motorway.’ There was a smile in his voice, and Jess could see it in her mind’s eye. Almost unconsciously, she drew her sketching pad towards her and fished around for her ever-present pencil. ‘Where are you?’ His oceanic eyes would be twinkling now, and she started to rough out the shape of one. She always started with the eyes.
‘Sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea and eating those fabulous biscuits you sent.’
‘Are you alone?’
Jess’s heart thudded. God, how she wished she was alone in her room, with the door firmly shut. Cathy had swept out, to give her privacy to talk to Ellis, but it wasn’t the sort of privacy she suddenly needed.
‘Cathy’s around. She just went into the other room for a moment. I think she’s planning on taking a bath.’
Ellis laughed softly. ‘Mm … a bit too risky for anything risky then?’
It was, really. ‘What on earth do you mean?’ she said, knowing exactly what he meant.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you, sweetheart. I’ll wait until I’m tucked up in bed in my wicked London sex lair before I do something about the way your gorgeous voice makes me feel.’
‘Ellis!’
‘Sorry … I’m a pig, aren’t I?’
‘No, not a pig. Just a bit … a lot more than I’m used to.’ She paused, then hurried on. ‘But I’ll get there.’
Why the hell had she said that? It suggested that she was assuming there was more ahead between them.
‘You will indeed, Ms Lockhart, if I have anything to do with it.’ The smile in his voice was a seductive grin now. Jess focused on the sketch that was forming on the paper, to stop herself doing something very silly. ‘But seriously, I phoned about next weekend. I’ve been looking at my schedule. I’ve a got a couple of crucial things with people who are only in town then, but my evenings should be free. Why don’t you come down here and visit Bluebeard in his London lair? Maybe you could take in some galleries during the day, and we could meet up in the evenings … Have dinner … maybe have dinner brought in … so we’ve more time to spend experimentally in bed.’
It was all so matter of fact, but still the way he spoke made her want to be there. Right now. Tucked up in that bed, in Bluebeard’s lair as he called it, doing, well, doing whatever. Jess imagined some sleek, white, penthouse space, with a bed a mile wide and multi-million dollar views over London. She’d no idea exactly where Ellis’s apartment was, but she pictured a vista of the river, and a jewel-box of night-time lights. A beautiful sight, but no match for the man in that notional white bed with his epic body and his erotic imagination.
‘Don’t fancy it?’ His voice sounded slightly less assertive in the tiny speaker, as if he was nervous about her response. He was a man of limitless wealth and power but these little instances when he didn’t quite act like the all-conquering hero were strangely bewitching. His humanity and reality somehow managed to make him even more of a fantasy figure than ever.
‘Oh yes I do. It’s just that I’m not used to making travel plans on the hop. I’m not a particularly spontaneous person, you know?’
‘You’re spontaneous with me. You’ve taken chances with a very strange and arrogant man, Jess. You surrendered your virginity to me when we barely knew each other, when we’d only met a day or two before.’
He was right, but it just didn’t seem like that. When she thought about it now, it was almost as if he’d been destined to be the one. That they’d been fated to meet and make love, even if there’d been no hint of it almost until the moment it had actually occurred.
‘Yes … yes I did. You really must be Bluebeard, seducing me in a whirlwind like that. Who knows what you might do if I agree to come to London.’ Her heart trembled, and so did much of the rest of her, especially the intimate zones. The vision of that vast acreage of white bed appeared again, with herself at the centre of it, her hands bound, secured to the brass bed-head with electric blue ropes. Wow.
‘But you’ll come?’
‘I should hope so,’ she shot back. No doubt about that, with you.
‘Oh, I can guarantee it. As often as I can make it possible, gorgeous one.’
She was drawing his mouth now, that plush, beautiful shape. It could be so velvet-soft, yet so muscular and ruthless. Her sex fluttered, and in that other image, the London one, she saw him crouched between her thighs, kissing her core.
‘Are you in the Mafia, Mr McKenna, because you’ve just made an offer I don’t think I can refuse?’ She was talking nonsense, he’d shaken her up so, with just a few casual words.
‘Don’t refuse it. Come to London. I don’t want to wait any longer than that to see you.’
But it’s only temporary. In a few weeks you’ll move on. You’ll be nice about it, but we’ll be over.
It would be so much less painful to quit now, but still she said, ‘Okay … I’ll get on the internet and book a train ticket.’
‘Don’t be absurd, Jess. I’ll arrange for one of the company jets to pick you up at the local airport, and a car to get you there. You’re a very special woman and you deserve nothing but the best.’
It was an exciting thought, but crazy, really.
‘Don’t be daft. I can easily get the train. It doesn’t take long these days.’ She started to fill in a little of his dark, designer stubble as a frame for his divine mouth. Hair was something she’d always found tricky to interpret, but somehow it seemed easier when she was drawing Ellis. ‘Just think of the rainforests, sending a jet just for one person. It’s a kind thought, but it’s not exactly environmentally sound, is it?’
‘You’re wonderful, Jess,’ he said softly, ‘but how about a compromise? I book your train tickets, first class of course, and the car to pick you up. Would that be agreeable to your eco sensibilities?’
Jess laughed. It would be lovely, actually. She’d only travelled first class a couple of times in her life, but the sense of specialness appealed to her romantic nature. So this would be a treat that she didn’t have to feel too guilty about, something within the realm of the achievable for someone like her.
Unlike Ellis, who was still a creature of pure fantasy, even though their bodies had joined, and the sweat of their couplings had blended.
‘Very agreeable,’ she said, shaking her head to bring her back to some semblance of normality. Sometimes where Ellis was concerned, she just lost it. ‘Shall I be ready at Friday teatime, after work?’
‘Take Friday off.’
‘I can’t. I can’t just keep taking time off at short notice.’
Ellis chuckled again. ‘Oh, I think you’ll find that you can. You can do anything you want, Jess. You’re golden. You could not turn up for work for a year, and you’d still be able to go on drawing your full salary and benefits.’
‘Oh, Ellis! What must the bosses think? They’ll know that we’re … um … having a thing.’ Her pencil scratched off to one side, making a very weird shape. She quickly flipped to the eraser end and started correcting. ‘It’s very embarrassing.’
‘You shouldn’t care, Jess. You … you’re a superior being. You shouldn’t worry what a bunch of tin-pot managers think about you.’ He paused, and she could almost see him frowning. ‘I’ve told you before … You shouldn’t be working in an office anyway. You should be pursuing an artistic career. You should take a degree course, the one you missed out on, at the very least. I could …’
‘No! Let’s not talk about this. I’ve told you. I’m happy with drawing and sketching as a hobby. I enjoy it better that way.’
‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m pushing and being controlling, aren’t I? Hazards of the job, I guess. I’m used to making things happen.’
It was Jess’s turn to laugh. ‘You can say that again … and in some ways … most ways, I like it. Believe me. But I’m used to doing my own thing too, my own way. And it’s probably not a good idea to get out of that habit. You know what I mean?’
She had to keep things real. Somehow. Because they’d go back to being real again, soon enough.
‘I understand. I admire you for it.’ He sounded sincere, but that didn’t mean he still didn’t want his own way, she guessed. ‘But if you ever want any kind of assistance, in changing careers, I’m here for you Jess. I stand by my friends.’
Friend, and currently friend with benefits. That was all she would ever be. Why, oh why was she wanting more when she knew the score with him?
‘Thank you, Ellis. That’s a wonderful offer, and I’ll keep it in mind. But I don’t want to change the status quo at the moment.’ Oh yeah, all that talk about letting life pass her by, and now she was dismissing a brilliant opportunity out of hand. But she knew the real reason … the ephemeral nature of this relationship. She always had to be mindful of that. ‘I’ll take a day off on Friday. But a proper day off, from my allocation. No funny business.’
Ellis laughed. ‘Oh, don’t you worry, there’ll be plenty of “funny business” but I understand what you mean. I’ll set up your travel arrangements and text you the details.’ He paused, and she could almost feel him switching gear, and imagine the wicked twinkle in his eyes. ‘Now, seeing as I have you on the phone, what are you wearing? Underneath, I mean …’
He couldn’t resist it. He’d been feeling so horny since he’d left her at the door, and in such a mixed up, contemplative mood. Guilt. Desire. Hope. Hopelessness. Julie. Jess. All had circled in his mind, over and over, while at the same time, the caveman part of him had focused again and again on the sublime pleasures he’d shared, and planned to share again, with Jess Lockhart.
‘Ellis …’ Her voice was husky. She was trying to be reproving, but not really succeeding. He recognised that note in her voice, a certain timbre, the hint of a laugh. Even though she knew she ought to tell him she wanted nothing to do with his nonsense right now, he knew she was on the same page, sexy and willing.
‘Oh, indulge me, woman. It’s over two hours since I touched you and I’m going crazy here.’ It was true. He was rock hard. Aching. There wasn’t much he could do about it right now. Even he couldn’t bring himself to masturbate in the back of the Bentley, speeding down the motorway, despite the fact that the windows were dark tinted and there was a privacy barrier between him and the chauffeur. It just seemed a bit tacky, a bit out of control.
But at least he could imagine Jess in a more private scenario. Properly alone, so he could direct her in a little movie that he could replay later to himself as he lay in his bed, in his apartment, high over London.
‘But I told you … I’m in the kitchen. Cathy is around.’ The words were a protest, but her voice was more velvet and full of excitement than ever.
‘Then go to your room, you wicked girl. Do as you’re told.’
‘Are you trying to order me about, Mr McKenna?’
‘Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.’ His heart thudded. God, his sex thudded too. This was going to be so tough, but so worth it.
‘Very well,’ she said, ‘I’m on my way up.’
There were a few moments of semi-silence, with just the impression of motion, faint footsteps, a soft thud, thud, thud, then the opening and closing of a door. Bless the woman, she’d done just as he’d said. She was only playing the game, though, he knew, not really following orders. She was only doing exactly what she wanted. She was sexy and empathetic; she’d chosen to go along with him.
‘I’m in my room. Alone. I’ve turned the key.’
‘Good girl. Now … what are you wearing?’
He’d imagined that little silky turquoise robe of hers – and nothing underneath. There was a longish pause, and he guessed that she was deciding whether to lie and fabricate, or just tell it like it was.
‘White jeans, tee shirt, bare feet.’
‘Delectable, but I’m more interested in what’s underneath that.’
‘White bra and knickers, both cotton with a little bit of lace trim.’
‘Gorgeous, and very virginal.’
‘Not any more … thanks to you.’ Her voice was delicious, provocative.
Did she regret it though, he wondered. Giving that great gift to a man who wasn’t the Mr Right she’d waited for so long. Better not go there, and get heavy. He’d had enough of heavy thoughts. He needed the lightness and pleasure of sexual jousting with a woman who could instinctively give as good as she got.
‘It was my pleasure to relieve you of that burden, Ms Lockhart. You should be grateful.’
Across the miles and the ether, he could feel her momentary and instinctive feminist indignation. It seemed to crest, then he imagined her wry smile, a shake of her head, making her silky hair flutter. Men were idiots, but smart women like Jess Lockhart were prepared to indulge their ridiculous ways.
‘I am, Mr McKenna. I am. I’m very mindful of the fact that you’re a super-stud and I’m very privileged to have had the benefit of your massive … sexual expertise.’
‘Careful, madam.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I don’t think you are, but you could at least try to show it by taking some of those far too many clothes off for me.’
‘Okay.’
‘Does your phone have a decent speaker?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well then, put it on speaker and set it close by while you strip off … and tell me what you’re doing while you do it.’
A moment passed, and when she spoke again, the quality of her voice was different, more echoing, telling him that she’d obeyed him. ‘The phone’s on the bedside table, and now I’m taking my tee shirt off.’ He heard a tantalising rustling sound, soft fabric brushing against soft skin, and perhaps the faintest slight whoosh of her hair again as it settled back to her shoulders. He wasn’t sure he could really hear all that, but it was good to imagine it.
‘Are the curtains drawn? Perhaps there’s some pervert in a bedroom across the back from you, watching you take your clothes off?’ As his memory served, there wasn’t actually any way anybody could overlook her, even with the curtains wide open, but the pervert was right here in this car anyway.
‘There’s nobody looking in.’
‘Imagine there was. How would you feel? Would it turn you on to know a stranger was admiring your body?’
‘I’m not sure … it might.’ Was she touching herself already? There was a breathy quality to her voice. ‘Yes, actually, it does. It did when you kidnapped me at work and whisked me upstairs.’
Yes, I knew that, beautiful girl. I knew that.
‘Excellent. Now then, there’s a stranger sitting in a bedroom across the way from you. He’s sitting in his window seat, admiring you … and touching himself.’
‘What does he look like?’
Oh, you minx!
‘This is supposed to be my game, not yours, madam. But seeing as it’s you, he’s got dark hair, a bit of a beard thing going on, and he’s in his thirties. He’s got a fabulous body and an enormous cock.’
‘Sounds like he’s got an enormously high opinion of himself too.’
‘He probably has, but enough about him. What are you doing now? Any progress on that white bra with fine lace trim?’
‘I’m taking it off now.’
Ellis closed his eyes, shutting out the night and the motorway and the cars speeding along in other lanes. All he could see was Jess, gracefully revealing herself to him. She still had a sublime modesty about her, being so recently untouched, but her innate sensuality reached out like her slender hand to stroke him.
‘I’m touching myself now … I’m playing with my nipples and stroking them and squeezing them … the way you do.’
Oh dear God … I can’t take this any more … I’ve got to …
To hell with tacky. To hell with out of control.
Ellis jabbed the control for security, locking the windows, the doors and the privacy screen.
With a groan he knew she’d hear, he unfastened his belt, then his trousers … and reached inside.
Jess panted. She’d been holding her breath. What was he doing? Was he actually masturbating while he was in the back of his limousine?
How sleazy was that?
How incredibly, incredibly hot!
He’s doing this for me? Because he desires me … so much? Jesus Christ …
Slumping back against the pillows, Jess reached down and cupped her crotch through her jeans. Her aching clit leapt, and she squirmed. She wouldn’t tell Ellis about that. Well, not yet. She was jumping ahead of his instructions in the game.
‘What are you doing now? Is that filthy pervert with the beard thing still watching you?’
Jess grinned to herself, hitching herself about on the bed. Two could play at this game.
‘I’m pinching my nipples. It hurts a bit, but I like it.’ All true. ‘The pervert’s got his cock out and he’s rubbing himself, the filthy sod.’ Also true, she suspected. She could see that marvellous shaft, clasped in his strong elegant hand, the ruddy crown taut and shiny, a little wet with his pre-come.
‘He sounds like a disgusting sex maniac to me.’
‘He is!’
‘You should report him to the police,’ said Ellis, and she could tell he was either fighting not to laugh … or fighting the wayward behaviour of one particular part of his anatomy.
‘Oh, I don’t know about that. He’s rather cute, actually, and with that huge cock and all, he’s a real turn-on.’
‘Speaking of turn-ons, madam, how about taking the rest of your clothes off now? For me and the pervert.’
One and the same, Mr McKenna.
‘Okay, I’m stripping now.’ After a last squeeze of her pubic mound, Jess set about her jeans, fumbling with button and zip in her haste and excitement. She was alone in her room, and yet burning in the spotlight of Ellis’s avid gaze. He was as good as there with her as she wriggled out of her denim chrysalis like a butterfly of sex, her senses unfurling. She flung the garment away, then sent her panties flying after it.
‘I’m naked,’ she said, wondering if he’d heard her. She almost didn’t have enough breath for a volume sufficient that the phone’s microphone would pick it up.
‘Good. Now play with yourself, gorgeous one. Stroke your nipples and your clit. I want to hear some gasping and moaning. Put on a show.’
Shedding all inhibition, it was easy to do. Whether she could have done the same if he was actually here was a moot point, but the touch of her own fingertips, the proxy of his, stirred her more intensely than she’d expected. Just one light press of her middle finger against her clit made her gasp out loud, shocked and pleasured.
‘That good, eh?’ he purred from the speaker. In her mind’s eye Jess saw the dark flare of lust in his eyes.
‘Yes, very good. It’s the pervert. Having him watch me is exciting. It gets me going.’ She squirmed against the mattress, circling her fingertip, rolling the silky bead of her clitoris in a complex, instinctive pattern. It was the way Ellis touched her, as if the fine muscles and tendons of her hand had learnt the action via the reaction it induced.
‘You’re killing me, woman,’ groaned Ellis, ‘you and your ruddy pervert. If I was there now there’d be no performing and watching … well, maybe later … but right now, I’d be in you, fucking you like fury, hammering you into the mattress, making you come until you can’t see straight and you pass out.’
Jess tossed her head against the pillow, wanting, wanting, wanting that ferocious onslaught, Ellis powering away between her thighs, their bodies angled so that with each thrust his pelvic bone knocked her clitoris. With her hand jammed between her legs and her finger right at her centre, she rolled over, face down on the bed and rocked and rocked, using her own weight to massage herself too. Her nipples rubbed against the bedding as she rode her own fingers, making the sensations whip and whirl like a high, sweet wind.
‘Oh God, yes! Yes! Yes!’ she shouted like every cliché of an orgasming woman as the crisis battered through her and her vagina contracted and contracted, reaching for the divine cock of the man miles and miles away from her. Fifty, a hundred, who knew? She just wanted him to be with her and in her, or just with her and touching her, making her come with every part of him … maybe even just his voice.
‘Are you coming, Jess? Are you coming for me?’
He might still be able to speak, but Jess was beyond it. She gasped for air. She sobbed. Damn, she even whimpered. The orgasm seemed to have turned her inside out, and now she just wanted to be held.
And Ellis wasn’t there. She buried her face in the pillows for a moment, stifling the cries of her loneliness.
‘Jess? Jess? Are you okay?’
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she said, rolling back over then sitting up, shaping up, pulling herself together. ‘Just a bit shagged out … remotely, that is.’ She tried to laugh, but it came out a bit weird.
‘Are you sure?’ demanded Ellis, on it in a flash. ‘I haven’t upset you, have I, love? I know you’re not used to all this, sex games and everything.’
Still naked, Jess reached for the water carafe and glass she kept at her bedside and poured herself a drink. The fluid was a bit warm and flat-tasting, but still the act of sipping it settled her. She found herself smiling. What a ninny. Getting in a state of post-coital melancholy without actually having shagged anybody, fool. Setting aside her glass, she dragged her throw from the bottom of the bed and snuggled it around her. That was better.
‘Don’t worry, Ellis. I’m good. I liked it. My first ever phone sex.’
‘But not the last, I hope. It’s going to be a long week. I might need to call you up again before Friday for a top up.’ She could sense him smiling now. They’d had a weird moment there, but she felt herself lightening again, feeling more relaxed, feeling the benefit of the climax now. The familiar glow.
Shuffling further up in the bed, she clutched the throw more closely about her, as if enfolding herself in the sensation. Ellis was far away, physically, but he’d been with her in spirit. He’d been the source of her excitement. A real man, not Dream Lover. A real man she could enjoy and share pleasure with, even if it was only for a finite amount of time. He was hers, now. She shared him with his memories, but any woman would have had to.
The glow. Hang on to the glow. The enjoyment … and the naughtiness.
And a naughty thought occurred to Jess now too. Had he? Had he really?
‘Ellis? Are you okay?’ She grinned, even though he couldn’t see her. Maybe they should Skype next time? ‘Did you … um … did you do anything?’
‘I did, you provocative, seductive minx!’ He laughed, and she loved the rich, happy sound of it. ‘I told myself I wasn’t going to … but I did. You drove me to it, you irresistible trollop, you. It’s a damn good job there’s a healthy supply of paper tissues in this jalopy, or things would have been incredibly messy.’
An enormous sense of power made Jess giddy for a moment. She’d done that. She’d made this glamorous, sophisticated man into a helpless schoolboy who couldn’t contain his urges and had been compelled to pleasure himself in the back of his own limousine, whilst thinking of her, pleasuring herself.
‘You’re a very naughty man, Mr McKenna. Fancy, tossing yourself off while you’re being driven down the M1. What on earth would people think? All these minions of yours, who look up to you with respect as their boss. All your business associate type people, who think you’re like this … financial machine, all analytical and cool as ice and all that.’
‘I don’t care what they think, gorgeous. I’m only interested in you at the moment, and thinking about what you’re doing, back there in your bedroom. Where I wish I was right now. All I want is to leap into your bed right now and throw myself on top of you in the most delicious and primitive way. And I’m going to do that as soon as you arrive in London.’
‘I thought I was going to be allowed to visit some galleries and do some sightseeing?’ she pointed out pertly.
Ellis laughed again. ‘I think there’ll be time for both, sweetheart. And I want you to do what you want to do.’
‘Well, tempting as culture is, being ravished by a handsome man with a big cock certainly sounds like something I want just as much as seeing a bunch of pictures.’
‘Maybe I could buy a Manet and have it fixed to my bedroom ceiling? Kill two birds with one stone?’
‘You’re a very silly man as well as a very horny one.’
‘I know … I know …’
A thought occurred. Something she almost always forgot, because Ellis was so easy to get on with, so … so normal in many ways.
‘You could buy a Manet, couldn’t you?’ Another thought … ‘I bet you’ve already got one, and you’re laughing at me.’
‘I would never, ever do that, Jess.’ He sounded suddenly serious. ‘And no, I don’t have a Manet. As I said, the family does own some good art, but I don’t possess any old or modern masters.’ He paused, and she could feel him lightening up, across the miles. ‘Personally, I’m thinking of starting to collect Jessica Lockhart. I’ve seen some examples of her nudes and they’re spectacular.’
‘Get away with you.’
‘I’m serious. I hope you’re going to finish that self-portrait for me. And do that other one … that one from memory, from the mirror.’
Oh God, that. She’d done a few rough outlines, just shapes and lines. Another thing she’d kept secure from Cathy’s eyes.
‘Yes, I’m going to try. The subject matter is a bit distracting, though, especially the mirror one. But I’m not one to shy away from a challenge … as you well know.’ And yet once she would have done. How knowing him had changed her and brought out her confidence! They barely knew each other, but he’d prompted so much in her.
Pausing, she grinned to herself. ‘The members of my art class usually bring work they’ve done away from the classroom for group critique … Do you think I should take in those particular pieces?’
Ellis’s bark of laughter rang from the speaker. ‘I dare you to!’
Wicked foolhardiness swelled like a wave. But no, she wouldn’t do it. Those were moments and images for her and Ellis alone.
‘No, I’m not showing them. Not even for you, Mr Sex,’ she said firmly. ‘But I will work on them, and maybe bring the results to London to show you. Or failing that, take pics of them with my phone and email them to you.’
‘I want them to keep.’ He sounded quite masterful.
‘We’ll see.’ She hoped she sounded just as assertive.
‘I’m in your hands.’
I wish you were … and not just in a sex way.
‘There’s no answer to that,’ she said lightly, and he laughed again.
‘If it wasn’t getting late, and I wasn’t almost at my destination, I’d suggest a replay of our festivities just now,’ he said softly, ‘but you’ve not exactly had the most restful of weekends, satisfying my enormous lust for you every two minutes, so I think that for your sake, we should hang up now, and take a rain check for more phone sex later in the week.’
She suddenly didn’t want him to ‘go’. Talking to him was so right. So natural. Even the erotic games. Once again, she got that odd feeling that somehow she’d known him forever, perhaps in a former life, who knew.
But he was right. It was late. And she was tired. She needed sleep, even if the solitary bed that had always been so accommodating and so appropriate to her now seemed half empty, without his lean and powerful form in it beside her.
‘Consider the check taken, Mr Sex.’
‘Good. Now at the risk of starting the “you hang up, no you hang up” dance, I’m going to ring off now, and let you get your sleep. I would say beauty sleep, but you don’t need that, as you’re beautiful already.’
‘Sweet talker.’
‘Truth talker,’ he said emphatically, ‘Get some rest. I will text you your travel arrangements later in the week, and we’ll speak again before Friday. Goodnight, Jess.’
‘Goodnight, Ellis.’
But the line had already gone dead, and she doubted that he’d heard her.
Ellis called again several times during the week, but the conversations were mostly of a strangely non-sexual nature, more the gossipy touching base of a friend rather than the provocative erotic challenges of a lover.
Jess laughed aloud when his opening gambit was ‘How was your day?’ quickly followed by ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Nothing. Nothing at all … actually it’s really nice to know that somebody other than Cathy and my sister cares about my mundane life.’
‘Never mundane, Jess … but seriously, how was your day?’
So they both chatted on, sharing funny stories from their vastly different working lives, confirming her travel plans, and swapping opinions – often wildly different – on news and current issues.
Things became a little more risqué when the talk turned to art, later in the week, and Ellis enquired about her progress with the self-portrait and the image of them on the ottoman, fucking.
‘I wish I was back there now … back inside you …’ he said huskily, and one thing led to another, and she never did get to report on the status of the drawings.
Ellis also sent Jess presents throughout the week, the naughty man, showering her with thoughtfulness. The hoard included a selection of gorgeous deluxe art books – some of them titles that he must have seen in her bedroom, on loan from the local library – and new supplies of her favourite pencils and drawing pads. She’d never even noticed him noticing these things when he was with her, but he clearly had, memorising the brands in order to gift her with them later.
He also sent her subscriptions to a number of journals she could never have afforded for herself, and he made her a ‘Friend’ of just about every major art gallery and museum in London, including the National Gallery, the National Portrait Gallery, the Tate, and, most appealing of all to her, the Courtauld.
‘I’m afraid I’ll be busy with meetings on Friday and part of Saturday, so hopefully, you can fill in the time exploring art to your heart’s content. I’m sorry I can’t explore with you, but if I can get away, I will do, and we’ll do some culture together.’ He paused, and she could easily picture the wicked twinkle in his eyes. ‘Well, a little bit. There are other things I’d much rather be exploring while you’re here, as you can well imagine.’
Jess could well imagine, and she knew she’d happily forgo even the lure of the Courtauld, in order to explore the fabulous work of living art that was Ellis McKenna.
One thing Jess didn’t discuss in too great a detail with Ellis was her life class. She felt irrationally guilty, even though there was nothing to be guilty about.
The model this week had been a young woman with a very slight, almost emaciated physique. She’d seemed healthy and relaxed enough, but her body-shape was tough to draw without making her appear skeletal and, of course, there was no way Jess could draw Ellis instead this time. Something that Josh Redding, the guy who seemed interested in her had remarked upon, teasing her good-naturedly in the college canteen during the class break.
‘No fantasy man this week?’
‘No, he was just a passing fad,’ she’d lied, ‘He’s some rich supermodel guy I saw in a celebrity mag and fancied. I’m over him now.’ She grinned, but inside it was as if she’d betrayed Ellis in the most profound way.
‘Glad to hear that. These film star looking hunks make the rest of us ordinary guys feel inferior.’
Oh dear. He likes me. I should like him. I would have … before …
‘You’re not an ordinary guy, Josh. You’re a very talented artist to say the least.’ At least that wasn’t a lie. He was good.
‘Thanks. I think.’ He grinned back at her, but didn’t press the matter.
After that, they’d fallen into conversation about the difficulties with the latest model. Josh was fun to talk to, and he knew his art. He wasn’t bad looking either, in a quiet, buttoned-up sort of way.
If I hadn’t met Ellis, I think there really might have been just a bit of a flicker there. I might just have taken a chance, this time.
But as they’d been about to go their separate ways at the end of the class – Jess lived within walking distance of the adult education centre, and Josh came by car from the other side of town – Josh had asked, tentatively, if she’d like to take in a film at the weekend, at the local art house cinema.
‘The Exhibition on Film of Munch 150. I was going to buy the DVD, but I think it’ll be much better on a big screen. How about it? We could go for pizza afterwards, if you like?’
More guilt. It had been such a relief to have a ‘prior engagement’.
‘I’m afraid I’m away for the weekend. Staying with a friend … I’m sorry.’
She was. She wasn’t. God, she didn’t know what she felt. Josh was nice, but Ellis was … Ellis.
‘No worries. I think it’s on for a few weeks. Maybe another time, eh?’
‘Yeah … sure. Rain check?’
‘Rain check.’
They’d parted then, a little awkwardly, leaving Jess feeling very strange indeed.
Thrown into deep shadow by the brilliance of Dream Lover made flesh, a perfectly nice man like Josh Redding seemed merely a sketch compared to a dazzling, accomplished masterpiece. But would she be able to see him with more clarity … afterwards?
Because ‘afterwards’ would soon come, sooner than she wanted. Ellis had left her under absolutely no illusions about that, and much as she knew she loved him, she also knew that she just couldn’t crawl back into her burrow of celibacy and half-life when he was gone. She’d be letting herself down, and letting Ellis down, wasting the gifts of sensuality that he’d given her.
She would miss him terribly, but she wouldn’t pine and close herself off again. Ellis had chosen to turn his back on the life of the emotions forever … but she couldn’t do that. She owed it to herself to forge a new way, after him, and perhaps giving Josh Redding a chance would be a way to try and achieve that.
You’re just shadow-boxing with yourself, kid. It’ll be hard. It’ll be well-nigh impossible. Ellis McKenna will be a tough act to follow, if only because you love him to distraction.