Page 44 of Beg, Borrow or Steal
That was it for Jamie. Weeks of frustration gave his body a mind of its own and he launched forward to kiss her. Not a gentle kiss, not at all the kind of kiss that he really should have given at this stage. No, his mouth was hard on hers, his hand in her hair tilting her head to exactly the angle he wanted, and his other hand pressed her body into his.
A small moan from her was all the encouragement he needed after that. He lifted her up so that her legs were wrapped around his hips. Without breaking the kiss he walked them both to his bedroom, kicking open the door and then falling onto the king-size bed so that she was lying beneath him as he balanced most of his weight on his elbows. Her eyes were wide and there was a hint of apprehension on her face that jolted him back to reality, making him feel like a total Neanderthal.
‘Shit,’ he muttered as he swiped a thumb across the soft skin of her high cheekbone. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I don’t want to push you into anyth – ’
He was cut off as her hands came up to frame his face and her mouth covered his. Her kiss was just as demanding as the one he’d given her. He hesitated for a moment before he gave in to it, letting her take a little more of his weight and pressing his hips to hers. What shocked him more than the kiss was her hands pushing up under his T-shirt; that was when the last thread of his control snapped. They grappled with each other’s clothes until they were down to their underwear. He might have seen her in as little before – and the black lace she wore on stage may have been more revealing than the one she had on now – but somehow the white cotton embossed with tiny blue flowers was so much more sexy and intimate. The shock of her perfect body up close was enough to make him feel slightly dizzy. His hand actually shook as it swept up her side to touch her breast, and when she arched off the bed into him he thought he might pass out with the rush of blood from his head.
It was obvious that her experience was limited. Nothing about the way she kissed him or touched him was practiced or premeditated, and everything he did seemed to be a huge revelation. When he’d finally unhooked her bra and pulled it off, he took in a sharp breath before lowering his mouth to her nipple. She let out a low moan and arched off the bed into him again as his hand slipped into the waistband of her knickers. He pressed into her soft folds and found her centre, moving his hand until she started panting and her eyes glazed over. The wonder in her expression as he brought her over the edge was the most incredible feeling he’d ever experienced in his life.
After that everything moved more quickly. Jamie ripped off his boxers whilst Libby was still slightly dazed on the bed. But once he came back to her naked and peeled her knickers down her legs she jerked into action, smoothing her hands over his arms, his back, his stomach and further down where he was harder than he’d ever been in his life. He groaned before grabbing her hands and pushing them up above her head, not wanting this to be over before it had begun, and feeling like an overexcited teenager.
‘Fuck!’ he swore as he shifted away and made a grab for his trousers, coming back with a condom and putting it on with superhuman speed, then covering her body with his again and pushing against her. Her breath hitched as her slick tightness only just allowed him to slide all the way inside her and he actually felt a bit overwhelmed. He paused for a moment and searched her beautiful face, feeling a wave of fierce possessiveness and all-consuming tenderness. Then she shifted her hips against his and he let out a growl before he started to move. When he was finally thrusting inside her, with her breasts pressed against his chest, her legs wrapped around his back, and her small noises of awe filling the room as he brought her there again, he felt a huge rush but also the most acute sense of relief; as if holding back from doing this had been an unacknowledged physical pain that was finally at an end.
Afterwards, as she lay on his chest and he held her close, he smiled up at the ceiling. Somehow he knew that this changed the whole game. As the almost overwhelming possessiveness swept through him again, he gave her another squeeze and she sighed, her arms closing around him in response.
Yes, he thought, this right now changes things. Now she was his.
Chapter 20
You’re barred
Libby swung around the pole in unison with Tara and Claire, spinning from the top right down the to bottom with the world whirling around her. As the water started to fall and they began the next section, something caught her eye on the far side of the room. She tried to concentrate but couldn’t put the face she’d glimpsed out of her mind. As they moved towards the finale she allowed herself to glance down at the audience, and there he was. The smug, self- satisfied prick was sitting right up in front of the stage, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his arrogant face. Libby nearly stumbled, which would have been a first seeing as the choreography was hers (all the dances they performed were planned and coached by her. The rehearsals took up nearly as much time as the performing itself, especially when she had to get not only Tara and Claire, but the other ten girls up to speed). When the lights finally went down and they could escape to the dressing room, Tara grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘Hey, you okay?’ she asked, turning to face Libby in front of the mirrors the girls shared. ‘You were a bit off out there – problems with lover-boy?’
Libby blushed bright red, wishing fervently that she could control the blood flow to her face as Tara and Claire’s eyes grew wider.
‘You!’ Tara shouted, bouncing on her toes and pointing at Libby, ‘You’ve had sex!’ This drew the attention of most of the dressing room and Libby buried her face in her hands.
‘Tara. Shut. Up.’
No way was she talking about ‘Lover Boy’ in front of this lot. Unfortunately, though, her face had other ideas – the involuntary smile she wore whenever anything to do with Jamie popped into her head was there and her pink cheeks were inevitable.
She’d been furious with Kira. When her brain had started functioning again after that mind-blowing first time, she’d demanded to know what that little traitor had whispered in Jamie’s ear. He’d just grinned and pushed her back again, proceeding to kiss down her neck and addle her mind anew.
Libby was now wise to this distraction technique of Jamie’s after the inordinate number of times he’d employed it over the space of one night and even a couple of times the next morning. Given Libby’s very sad previous introduction to sex, that night and the week since had been a complete and wonderful shock.
No wonder people made such a big deal of this stuff. No wonder the other students were at it all the time. She hadno ideait was this fantastic. After that first night all Libby had wanted was to lock herself and Jamie up for the next month, alone. Of course that was not possible given that he had work and she had a degree to getanda child to raise. But he was creative. He showed her there were ways around lack of time and opportunity, including a large amount of time spent in the shower together (they were without doubt the cleanest but least environmentally friendly people in London).
So when she’d finally gotten out of him Kira’s whispered, ‘Women have needs, Big Syringe,’ she couldn’t even hold a grudge against her friend. To be honest anyone who assisted in her discovering the wonder of sex with Jamie was to be thanked, profusely.
With the sex came a new sort of intimacy. In the post-coital glow late at night, snuggled up to him on her tiny sofa bed, she’d told him about the Sperm Donor. Not a bad kid. Quite the big man around her school – the best looking sixth former; football star, Head Boy. She’d been the envy of all her friends when he’d noticed Libby, who was two years younger. None of them were quite so envious, though, when she found out she was pregnant. Sperm Donor had begged her to have an abortion. Libby was a sensible girl and she was pro choice. But when it came down to it, and with her parents’ Catholic faith instilled into her from such a young age, she just couldn’t do it. When she refused, Sperm Donor and his family cut all contact with her. She last saw him when she was three months pregnant and he was headed off to university, having successfully spread rumours around the school of Libby’s supposed promiscuity during their relationship. Everyone but Kira believed him; so Libby being very obviously up the duff the next term came as no surprise.
The experience had hardened Libby. She had decided to tackle her life pragmatically. Up until that point her looks had not achieved a damn thing for her. All they’d done was attract a total loser and earn her an unsavoury reputation. Equally annoying was the gymnastics and modern dance she’d dedicated every spare moment to. Medals and trophies had lined her childhood bedroom walls, but what practical use were they now?
She’d always wanted to be a doctor, but she needed money to make it through medical school. Her parents had been bitterly disappointed by her pregnancy, but they remained supportive. Had they been better off, had her dad not injured his back and lost his business, maybe Libby wouldn’t have had to make the choices she did. But since her dad’s bankruptcy her parents had to downsize even their own home. They now lived in a tiny terraced house, relying on her mum’s small income from working part-time in a local café whilst her dad battled his way out of depression.
Libby lived on their sofa for Rosie’s first year, but it became clear that they needed their own space once Rosie was more mobile. In the last few years Martin Penny had started to recover. He found some work with local building companies, but nothing permanent, and things were still a struggle. They didn’t bring in enough to pay Libby’s fees and living expenses, especially with a baby in the mix. So she researched and researched, always coming back to the same conclusion: it was either stripping or prostitution.
When she’d first approached Steve she’d been just eighteen. The Main Attraction was renowned as one of the best strip clubs in London, and she’d been lucky that he’d agreed to meet her. He asked her to work the pole as an audition, and she’d been a disaster. Just as he was about to ask her to leave she’d kicked off the stripper heels he’d given her to work the pole, and performed a perfect front handspring into an aerial with double back-flip across the stage.
He hired her on the spot. Tara and Claire had taught her the pole, but Libby had started to choreograph the dancing. As profits increased, Steve allowed Libby more freedom. The gymnastics portion of the routine got bigger and bigger as the crowds grew. Eventually the focus had shifted, and Libby, Tara and Claire at least stopped taking off their bras. It morphed into a sort of burlesque show-meets-gymnastics display, and it worked. The Main Attraction had tripled its profits over the last four years.
‘Knock, knock ladies.’ Steve’s low voice came through the door, saving Libby from the embarrassment of further interrogation. ‘Can I come in? You decent?’
This was part of the reason she loved Steve. He had seen them all naked thousands of times before, but treated their changing room as if they were all Mother Superiors – a show of respect that he instilled into the bouncers as well.
‘Come in, you big idiot,’ Claire called, grabbing her white wings from the chair.
