Page 31 of The Dance Deception
Chapter 17
Warren shares a flat with a girl from his work and a guy from his football team. It doesn’t have a lounge, because they’re using it as the third bedroom, so we head straight to his room, which is dimly lit by the bedside lamp he must have left on before he went out. As soon as the door is closed behind us, he takes my hand and leads me towards the bed. Then we kiss standing beside it, a poorly coordinated effort that makes our teeth clash.
We kiss again and it’s no less clumsy – we’re completely out of sync with each other. But it doesn’t matter. I’m kissing someone. Someone who isn’t Merle. And that can only be a good thing.
I tug Warren’s sweatshirt over his head, and he takes his T-shirt off himself. He’s chunkier than Merle, but not in bad shape. Where Merle’s chest was all hard muscle and waxed smooth, Warren’s is toned, but softer, with a light covering of hair, which I run my fingers over.
‘Oh yeah, that’s good,’ he says.
He guides my hands down to his belt but after several seconds of fumbling with the catch, he nudges me to the side and releases it himself, letting his jeans drop to the floor. He’s fully erect in his boxer shorts and I reach for him, feeling the heat through the material.
‘Oh yeah. That’s it – touch it there … oh yeah, that’s so hot – oh yeah,’ he says.
He tugs his boxers off, then helps me remove all my clothes before pulling me down onto the bed with him and grinding himself against me with a flurry of ‘yeah, baby’s’ that make me wonder if he’s been watching too many seventies porn films. I fight back a snigger.
‘You’re so tight, oh yeah,’ he says as he pushes a finger inside me. For all of two seconds. Then he breaks away to retrieve a condom from the bedside table. I rub my clit as he puts it on. He glances up briefly and says, ‘Oh yeah, you make me so horny. I can’t wait to get in there.’ But then he turns his attention back to the condom.
Once in place, he asks, ‘How do you like it – missionary or doggy style?’
It doesn’t feel like the time to point out these aren’t the only two options.
I tell him I like it doggy style. If he carries on with the ‘oh yeah’s, I’m not sure I can keep a straight face and at least this way he won’t see if I get the giggles.
‘Oh yeah, ooooh, mmmm, yeah,’ he moans as he slips inside me, groaning louder and louder as he picks up speed. ‘Oh yeah, I knew this would be amazing. Oh yeah, here it comes, oh yeah.’
The volume goes up another notch. ‘Oh yeah, are you ready? Here it comes. Ahhh yeah. I’m ready. Are you ready? Ahhh yeah. Are you ready?’
I don’t think I could tell him I was ready even if I wanted to. I’m too busy using the pillow to stifle my laughter. I wonder how many times his flatmates have had to listen to this, and whether they’re cracking up in their rooms at this very moment.
That’s not to say things don’t feel good down below, but there’s no way I’m going to come if Warren doesn’t hit the mute button for a few minutes. It’s clearly not a problem for him, though.
‘Oh yeah, ahhh yeah, that’s it baby … ahhh yeah, so hot … oh yeah!’ he yells. ‘Oh yeah, it’s coming … oh yeah, I can’t hold it … oh yeah, here it is, here it is … oh yeah … ahhhhhhhhhhh.’
With a final shudder he pulls away and collapses on the bed beside me, eyes closed and breathing heavily. ‘That was so amazing. So good. Oh wow. Come here, beautiful.’
He pulls me down beside him and for a moment I think he’s going to finish me off with his hands or his tongue – or both. But his eyes stay closed as he pulls me in for a cuddle.
‘I’m knackered,’ he says to the top of my head, and I’m not kidding, about ten seconds later he’s out cold.
I reach down between my legs and stroke my clitoris again, but with Warren snoring lightly beside me, the moment has gone. A sigh escapes from my throat as I withdraw my hand. Instead of making me forget aboutMerle, Warren has simply reminded me how good the sex was with him and how desirable he made me feel. He knew exactly how to turn me on and would never have left me hanging like Warren has. It’s hard not to crave his expert touch again.
I close my eyes and try to sleep, but I can’t drop off, and after I’ve been lying there for a while, sobering up and starting to think about the long day ahead in the studio, and how it will be a lot less awkward if I sneak out of the room now than if I have to do morning-after breakfast with Warren’s flatmates, I decide to head back to my own bed.
Warren stirs as I quietly retrieve my clothes. ‘Are you not staying?’ he murmurs, without opening his eyes.
‘I really need to get going,’ I tell him, already pulling on my jeans. ‘Rehearsals and all that.’
‘I’ll call you,’ I add as an afterthought, because it seems like the polite thing to say. But as I pull the bedroom door closed behind me, I think we both know I probably won’t. If I wanted a repeat of this evening, I wouldn’t be running off into the night, would I?
We got on so well at the pub that I thought it was a good idea coming here afterwards. But instead of making me feel better about being dropped by Merle – and Ed, for that matter – I feel like I’ve hit a new low. Trudging home alone through the dark, deserted streets of south-west London after dismal sex with a guy I hardly know? It’s hardly the stuff dreams are made of.
I stifle a yawn, suddenly exhausted. I know life is all about taking chances – as Lucy reminded me withFire onthe Dance Floor– and there was always the possibility that tonight could have worked out differently, but right now I wish I’d left the chance-taking to someone else.
Chapter 18
Idoze on the train on the way to rehearsals the next morning, letting my mind drift over the events of the last twenty-four hours and the likely events of the next twenty-four.
Lucy looked crestfallen when I broke the news over breakfast that there won’t be any double dating for us with Aiden and Warren.
