Page 98 of I Knew You Were Trouble

I cradle his cheeks in my palms before he kisses me deeply again.

Finding the hem of my skirt with his fingers, he eases it upwards, gripping the smooth material, his eyes darkening as he finds there is no other barrier, and my hips are free of anything further. His low groan conveys his passionate approval, his hand gliding up my inner thigh, already wet with my arousal. His fingers continue upward on their journey before parting me, sinking inside my slippery folds, relasing more of the hot liquid that has pooled there. I gasp at his touch, my head going back as I angle my hips, allowing him better access. I squeeze his shoulders for support as his fingertips expertly stroke the tight bundle of nerves before two fingers dive inside my opening, ripping his name from my lips.

Aidan removes his fingers, and grasping my hips, slowly turns me, finding the zip to my dress and gripping it, nudging it downward, his fingers trailing my arousal all the way down my back to my waist, his other hand keeping the material taut. When it’s down, he helps me shimmy out of the straps, then works the material downward so it’s draped about my waist. He draws away then, tearing off his shirt and tossing it, easing himself forward so my back is leaning into his smooth chest. I revel in the sensation as he trails kisses along my neck and back, his hands coming round, gliding up my stomach to cup both breasts, the tips of his thumbs brushing up against my nipples. My hands free, I thrust the dress down to the floor from my waist where it lands in a heap, and I kick it away. I want his hands on me. Everywhere. Taking his right hand, I guide it back down to where it’s required most, and another moan escapes my lips as he obliges me, sinking back into my folds and finding the place that makes me shudder.

‘Do you want to see the bedroom?’ he whispers and I nod frantically. Before I know it, he’s swept me into his arms and is carrying me naked, further down the corridor. The room opens out, and he lowers me down onto the gargantuan bed, before getting up to adjust the curtains to ensure we are hidden from any intrusive paparazzi lenses. There’s an enormous TV on the wall, an electric fireplace underneath it, lit behind some protective glass, flames casting shadows about the room.

Lying naked on pristine white linen, I watch as Aidan goes to a bag that’s on the floor. After pulling out a condom packet from one of the pockets, he unbuttons his fly, undressing, his gaze never leaving my body. My muscles are taut with anticipation. I want him down here with me. Watching him slide the slick latex over his hardening length, my body’s quivering.

‘Aidan, I need it,’ I sigh, my words coming out as a hiss. ‘I need you.’

He moves toward me, for a moment settling on top of me and between my thighs, until I feel the urgency of him pressing blissfully up into me, as close as we can be without being fully joined.

‘You feel so amazing,’ he murmurs.

In a flash he flips me over so that I’m on top. Suddenly I’m straddling him, my knees pressing into his sides and into the fresh sheets, hovering high over him. I take him in my hand, giving him a slow stroke, his mouth falling open, his gaze fixing mine as I play with him.

‘Lexi, Jesus Christ,’ he mumbles before I tilt my hips and sink down onto him, taking him deep inside me. His mouth falls open again as I circle my hips gently, and we swiftly find our rhythm.

I ride him. The pressure builds between my legs, the ache so exquisite. Being naked in the light of the fire is liberating. Aidan’s fingertips drift to the point where we are joined, caressing me, sending a flutter through my belly as I hurtle towards my own release. I’ve never felt so complete. The look on his face on the bed tells me he’s close, his expression overcome by pleasure, yet he’s watching me.

I feel full. Sated. Glorious. I feel a rushing sensation as the ache within me builds to an exquisite climax. As his fingers circle faster, my head goes back and I see stars. As I come, I feel Aidan reaching his peak barely a moment later, his tremors and his own groan of pleasure enveloping me.

When it’s over, I roll off him, collapsing to the sheets, his arms going around me.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he whispers, and I answer his compliment with a long, contented kiss.

‘I’m crazy about you, Lex,’ he whispers, stroking my hair, still breathless, and in response, I snuggle further into him.

He holds me close as I listen to his heartrate slowing down.

Later, before I fall asleep in his arms, under the flickering light of the fire, I know that I have never felt so protected.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A little before seven a.m., in the back of a Toyota Avensis hire car, Duncan is giving Meredith a follow-up tutorial on how to use one of the video cameras. I sit in the front with the driver, the windowless, slate-grey sound van we are following containing all five members of Rebel Heart, squished inside. To avoid the fans, we escaped out of the service entrance to the hotel, and it felt exhilarating. Bodhi’s driving the van, and the band is accompanied by two other security guards up front. Bianca agreed to my request for another interview, yet she has no idea of the spectacle about to arrive at her door, two hours earlier than our supposed follow-up.

The boys agreed they need to move fast, like a SWAT team reacting to an incident: in and out. Plus New York in January is freezing. Last night, at the meeting, we made sure we had everything we needed.

I grip my camera. What Cal is about to do borders on the ridiculous. But Cal being Cal, I imagine he might just be able to pull it off.

Bianca’s apartment building is situated on the corner of East Eighty-First Street and Fifth Avenue, but due to the one-way system, it has to be approached from the east, from Madison Avenue.

There is a single car parking space available, into which Bodhi pulls the van. I ask our driver to pull over so that Duncan, Meredith and I can all get out. He screeches to a halt. We all pile out, then our driver then takes off at speed.

We’ve rehearsed our movements, our positions. Watching the boys move quickly, a smile tugs my lips. We are dressed low-key. In contrast, Cal is wearing an oversized tan-coloured suede and faux-fur coat, because, as he explains, where he comes from, the cold is seen as exotic and he thinks it’ll make him look attractive in Bianca’s eyes. He’s holding a sizeable loudspeaker, which Ziggy sourced at short notice. Ziggy, incidentally, has told the boys to call him from their prison cell.

Within moments, the back doors to the vehicle open up. I glimpse four sizeable speakers in the centre, and eight subwoofers wired up to the interior of the two doors. Meredith films Ravi, Aidan and Miller all clambering on top of the vehicle, to get a better view.

I keep my lens focused on Cal, walking to the other side of the street.

‘Good luck, mate,’ Aidan shouts to him.

Cal walks backwards away from the van. ‘Here goes nothing,’ he says with a wink.

Cal nods to J.B. who starts the music, then follows the others by climbing up onto the roof of the van. They are using a recorded performance of Luciano Pavarotti singing live – the most famous of all Pavarotti’s recordings – that Cal already has downloaded on his phone, complete with the euphoric audience reaction to his magnificent operatic voice at the close. Cal crosses the street and switches on the loudspeaker as the choir and the strings reverberate to the strains of “Nessun Dorma”. The noise of the choir and the accompanying strings is a lot louder than I expected, perhaps because it bounces off all the surrounding buildings. I raise an eyebrow: Cal said he was going to wake the neighbourhood with his declarations, and he wasn’t lying.

Cal crosses the street to the side of Bianca’s building, stopping opposite the entrance. I cross with him. He allows Pavarotti to begin singing before he makes his first address into the loud speaker.

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