Page 32 of Taste

When I came out, he was leaning back against the wall of lockers, surrounded by the guys from the kitchen. I held my head high and walked past them, ignoring the silence that followed. Grabbing my jacket, I pulled it on and then dropped my gloves in my haste to fasten the padlock. My hands shook.

“So, we all decided on a few beers at mine and then we head for Bound and Caged? Was that the plan?” I recognised Ben’s voice, loud and clear, like he’d intended me to hear.

The others hummed in agreement, a few people voicing opinions on beers or offering to bring snacks.

“Should be a good night, and I might finally get laid. It’s been far too long.” That was Mark. His voice hit me like a knife in the back of my neck, and I knew with a certainty that filled me with fear, that if I’d turned around, he would be staring right at me.

He was playing a dangerous game, and I was falling for it hook, line and sinker.

Bound and Caged Nightclub – London; January

MARK

The thumping music was suddenly far too loud as I pushed him away from me and let go of his shirt. The crowd felt terrifyingly claustrophobic, the air too thick to breathe. I stumbled backwards, cushioned and bruised by the maddening waves of pressure all around me as I sank into the sea of bodies, away and protected from him.

I had to leave. Just the thought of what I’d let happen filled me with horrifying disgust. Not so much for him but for myself.

I was stunned he’d had the nerve, gobsmacked he’d even attempted it and horrified by the shameful realisation that I’d gone along with it. Most of all, I was fuming at myself for being so weak. For letting him. Because that, surely, wasn’t what I’d intended to do.

I knew I’d baited him. Mabel had shot me a warning glance outside the changing rooms after the words had so carelessly shot out of my mouth. Mabel. My best friend, my confidante and conscience. The one person who was always there to rein me in when I couldn’t do it myself. Yet tonight, they were nowhere to be found, and I’d let Finn fuck me into a mind-blowing orgasm against that filthy wall.

I’d wanted it. God, yes. I’d dreamt about it since I’d first set eyes on his messy mop of hair. Fantasised about him fucking me, about me one day fucking him back.

I also knew why Mabel hadn’t come out tonight, because…me. Yes, me. I was the root of all evil, and boy had they let me know it. The evening had been doomed from the start.

This wildly stupid, insane act of mindless sex hadn’t even been about lust. It had been some kind of fucked-up hate sex. I was broken-hearted by this thing with Christensen and consumed by Mabel once again guilt-tripping me, and he was… I couldn’t even begin to justify his behaviour. I didn’t understand him. I’d never understood him at all.

“Never again!” I’d shouted, and even replaying it as I grabbed my jacket from the cloakroom guy and slammed a five-pound note down on the counter, I’d damn well believed it. The security guard by the entrance barely acknowledged my presence as I fled out the door into the biting cold winter’s night, zipping my jacket as I fished my phone out of my pocket.

“Mark. Come on.”

I heard him running behind me, a little out of breath, his posh shoes slipping on the pavement. It was bloody freezing, the rain from earlier having left random hard patches of ice, so I couldn’t run. It would be ridiculous to even try, I thought to myself, as I lost my footing again and nearly landed on my arse.

His hand steadied me as he finally caught up. I jerked out of his grasp, because this? This I had not signed up for, and I certainly wouldn’t stand for any more of his frankly insulting behaviour. I was better than this. Better than him. Worth more than being a plaything in his fucked-up attempt at wooing me with hate-kink or whatever the fuck this was. I wouldn’t look at him. I refused to acknowledge he was there and upped my stride as he kept pace with me, still gripping my arm.

“Mark, stop.”

I kept walking.

“Baby, stop.”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” I snarled. I was fuming.How dare he? How fucking dare he?

He yanked my arm hard, almost making me lose my balance. I steadied myself with my hands against his chest, and he did exactly what I would have done.

See? He’d picked up a few tips. Learned from the best. Because now he had me imprisoned, caught firmly in his embrace. I tried to lock my arms, push him away, because his face was too close to mine. I refused to look at him. I refused to let him do this to me again.

“I can’t do this anymore, Finn. You fucking destroyed me. I could barely function after Christmas, when you just left. I can’t deal with you like this. I can’t…” My voice faltered. I couldn’t tell him. I didn’t even know where to start.

He leaned his forehead against my ear, grappled with my jacket as I tried to break free. I could feel his warm breath on my neck, but where it should have burnt like fire, it filled me with need. I still wanted things that were no good for me. I was weak and pathetic. I was no use to anyone, least of all myself, standing here letting him tighten his arms around my tensed-up body. He wouldn’t let me go, just held onto me like I was the last person on earth. Like he couldn’t have let go of me even if he’d tried.

“Please, Finn. I can’t let you make me want you all over again. You’ll leave me, and I can’t… I can’t live like this.”

The alcohol in my system didn’t help. I shouldn’t drink; it made me all emotional. But I felt drunk on him, wasted from having him back this close. The tears streaming down my face were relentless, and I sobbed in distress as he rocked me, his fingers digging into the thick down of my jacket as he tightened his grip on me, making sure I couldn’t get away.

“The only thing we need to stop is all this crying that happens every time you and I get together. I’m enough of a cry-baby on my own, and now you’re setting me off too.”

If that was his idea of a joke, he was out of his mind. I wailed into his chest as he kissed the top of my head. I was back again, back for more, stupidly letting him pull me into this game he played, one he would always win because I was too weak and he was too damn stubborn to listen to a single word I was saying.

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