Текст книги "Falling from Grace "

Автор книги: Annabel Chant

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 10 страниц)

Nine

The phone and the buzzer were going constantly. After a couple of hours, Frank, one of the concierges, came up and knocked timidly at the door.

‘I’m sorry, Miss Anderton,’ he said, running his hand over his brow. He was usually cheerful and chatty. Now, he just looked harassed. ‘It’s the reporters. They won’t go away. I’ve rung the police, but…’ He tailed off with a look of defeat.

‘Is…is there nothing you can do?’ I tried to keep the wobble from my voice.

‘I could disconnect the buzzer,’ he said. ‘If that’s what you want.’

‘Yes,’ I managed. ‘Yes, Frank. Thank you.’

He nodded, and backed away, a pitying look in his eye.

I shut the door, and put my back to it, feeling hunted.

I wandered around the flat, wondering what to do. Eventually, I forced myself to sit in front of the TV. I turned it on, and tuned it to a channel. I can’t even remember which. It was pointless, anyway. I just didn’t have the concentration to spare, and I was so terrified the news would come on, and me with it, that I couldn’t sit still.

The phone rang and rang. The few times I answered it, it was some newspaper or other, after a story. In the end, I pulled the cord out of the wall and when my mobile went flat, I didn’t bother charging it.

I tried to eat, but I couldn’t face it, and I still couldn’t stop shaking. Surely I should have calmed down by now, I thought, but my brain had forgotten to tell my body. I had stomach cramps all evening; short, sharp bursts of pain that got worse and sharper and more dagger-like until I thought I’d die, then wore off and I’d need the bathroom. Then the whole thing began again. By the time they finally ended, I didn’t have a thing left inside me, I was sure.

I paced the flat again, pausing a couple of times to look out at the reflections of sunset in the river. It was probably beautiful. I know, at another time, I would’ve thought so, but now I just looked. I didn’t feel anything.

I paced some more, before wandering aimlessly into our room, and collapsing on the bed. Lying there, I decided to distract myself with the one thing that always worked, and allowed my hand to wander just as aimlessly down towards my clit.

I let out a sigh of relief. That feeling; that sudden blossoming of sensation that came from the nerves rather than the emotions, brought with it the promise of an immediate – if transitory – escape. I placed my fingers lightly over the apex of my folds, and began to massage myself, gently at first, then more insistently. As my fingers worked their rhythmic magic, teasing and arousing my clit, my body began to relax, for the first time that day. My thighs parted of their own accord, and my mind started to drift away from my troubles, and into my fantasy world, where emotions didn’t even exist.

As my body, then my mind, became more in tune with my fingers, my thoughts became dirtier and, within minutes, I was where I belonged, in the back room of the bar, the guys around me, caressing my breasts and spreading my legs ready to claim my depths.

But as I looked around at each of them, feeling their hands running over me, their lengths slapping against my bare skin, they were no longer faceless and I knew them all by name. They were all Leo. I was surrounded by him, enclosed in a whole circle of him, and struggling to get out.

I pulled my hand away with a jolt and sat up, trying to shake the image from my mind; but it clung there, refusing to be released. It was then I realised that he’d taken everything from me – even my fantasies. I was awake for the rest of the night, but I didn’t touch myself again. I just lay there, wracked in my own private torment and wondering what the hell I was going to do.

He came back early the next morning. I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept. I was just lying on the bed, staring sightlessly at the thin, grey sky. It spread from behind the distant skyscrapers like an extension of my emotions. Or lack of them.

When he entered the bedroom, something primal took me over. I sprang up and backed into the corner.

‘Hey, Princess.’ He put his hands up, in surrender. He looked strained and dishevelled, and the spikes of his hair were flat on one side. ‘I’m not going to touch you. I just want to talk.’

‘Okay.’ I stayed in the corner, the smooth coldness of the walls pressing into my shoulder blades through my clothes. ‘So talk.’

‘Look, this has got out of hand.’ He pushed his fingers through his cow’s lick, ruffling the remaining spikes into feathers. ‘I’ve done wrong, I know that. I know you must hate me.’

‘Oh, I do.’ I fought back the tears that sprang, unbidden, from the deepest recesses of my soul. ‘I don’t even want to see you, let alone talk to you.’

‘You need a few days to calm down.’ He shifted from one foot to the other. ‘I get that. You must still be angry.’

‘Angry?’ I shook my head. ‘You have no idea. Where were you last night, anyway?’

‘I went to a hotel.’

‘Alone?’

‘Of course, alone.’ He put his arms out to me, and began to pad around the side of the bed. ‘Look, come on, babe. Come and have some breakfast. You look like shit.’

‘Thanks.’ I looked down at myself. I was still wearing the clothes I’d had on for work the day before. I hadn’t even noticed. ‘You said you wanted to talk.’

‘I do, but I don’t know what to say.’ He stopped before he reached me, and stood there, his arms still outstretched. ‘I’ve told you I'm sorry. I am, so much. I don’t know what else I can say.’

‘Well, then.’ I pushed past him, batting his arms out of the way. ‘There’s really nothing more to say, then, is there?’

‘Come and have something to eat, babe.’ He followed me out onto the landing. ‘You don’t look well.’

‘I don’t want something to eat.’ I turned round to face him. ‘I want you gone.’

‘You can’t be serious,’ he said with a short, hard laugh.

‘Oh, but I can.’ I glared at him. ‘You said I needed time to calm down.’

‘Yeah.’ He was starting to look angry, now. ‘But I didn’t think you’d take it.’

‘I want you gone now.’ I walked into the bathroom, and stood in front of the sink.

Leo followed me, and stopped behind me, staring into the mirror at me.

‘We just need to talk, Grace.’ He spoke quickly, desperately. ‘You don’t understand. I’m probably going to lose out on the transfer window, after everything that’s happened. I need you, babe.’

There’d been speculation about him moving up the Premiership, to one of the big clubs, at the end of the season. It was all he’d talked about recently. This would come as a major blow to him, I could see that, and it almost made me feel sorry for him. Almost. ‘It’s your own fault,’ I said, with a shrug. ‘You didn’t need me in Hull.’

‘It was nothing, Princess.’

I turned on the cold tap. If he calls me Princess one more time, I’ll end up pushing him down the stairs. ‘You need to go,’ I said, splashing water over my cheeks. I hadn’t realised how sore and swollen my eyes were until I felt the fresh relief of the icy water.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ He folded his arms, a mulish expression on his face. ‘My place is here, with you.’

I dabbed at my face with a towel. ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I’ll go then.’

The words came out unbidden. I had no idea where I’d go – I just knew I couldn’t spend another minute under the same roof as the man glaring at me, over my shoulder, in the mirror. ‘My place is anywhere, as long as you’re not around.’

‘Fine.’ He raised his eyebrows in challenge. ‘Off you pop, then.’

I decided to bluff it out. ‘I need to pack. At least give me time on my own to do that.’

‘Whatever you say.’ He shrugged, and looked at his watch. ‘I’ll give you till lunchtime. But Princess…’

‘What?’ I walked back out onto the landing and stopped by top of the stairs.

‘Don’t stay away too long. I don’t want to have to come looking for you.’

At this, he strode down the stairs and out the front door. As soon as it slammed, I sat down on the top stair, trembling with misery and relief, and wondering, yet again, what I was going to do.

Ten

‘Dear God.’

I was in Giles’s chambers, the following lunchtime. I’d called him the previous night, on the way back from the nature reserve, to give him the joyful news. I think the tone of my voice must have alarmed him, because he’d cut the conversation short before I’d had time to fill him in on any details. Instead, he’d demanded I stop by his office with the tape.

His chambers were typical of someone in his office. The high ceilings and oak-panelled walls were straight out of the Victorian days, and stank of whiskey and old books. They were like the rooms of every master I’d ever had, at school and university, but scaled up to something approaching magnificence. The TV in the corner looked out of place; the image frozen on the screen, even more so.

Giles had just been watching Felicity, being eaten out pretty thoroughly by Rick, and he was sitting with his head in his hands, staring down at his desk. Rick had just got up, leaving her totally exposed; lolling back, tits out and her pussy spread wide. It wasn’t a sight to delight any father, and I hastily clicked the remote, trying to find a slightly less indecent frame to pause it on. It wasn’t easy.

‘I can leave it there, if you want.’ I pointed the remote at the screen again, ready to switch it off.

No.’ Giles looked up, sharply. ‘I need to know it was handled in the correct way. I see no evidence of that so far. Continue.’

I sighed, and pressed the remote, rewinding it by mistake, so that we were subjected, once again, to the sight of Rick’s ass, his head buried deep between Felicity’s thighs.

I was furious with him. He’d put himself, and the others, at risk for no good reason. Worse than that, he’d disobeyed a direct order. I’d have to deal with him later.

I watched the tape intently now. I hadn’t been able to face watching it all the way through the night before, and had left it to Alex to sift through. Now I was hoping it’d come out as well as he’d claimed.

When Rick finally pulled away, Felicity just lay there for a few moments, rubbing at her clit. Then she put two fingers into her mouth and sucked on them coquettishly, before sliding them into her cunt. She lay there, frigging herself, her eyes closing briefly in ecstasy.

The guys were too fired up by now to put up with that for more than a few moments.

‘Come on, gorgeous.’ Rick leaned forward again, holding out his hand. She pulled her fingers out and took his hand with her free one, allowing him to drag her out the car. Once she’d got her balance in her heels, she held her other hand to his mouth, and pushed her wet fingers in past his lips.

He sucked on them, pushing them deeper inside, then put one hand behind her and, clasping her bare ass cheek, pressed her naked pussy up against his crotch.

The others had had enough by this stage.

‘Come on, guys,’ said Matt. ‘Let’s get this little beauty laid.’

‘Gorgeous?’ Giles no longer seemed so defeated, more irritated. ‘Little beauty? What the hell is this?’

‘Bear with me.’

I watched as the guys dragged her into a copse of trees. She kept stumbling, her heels getting caught in the mud and the tree roots. They were all laughing; the guys grabbing at her ass and tits every time she fell into them. I was sure was doing it on purpose. She was certainly enjoying it.

Giles stood up. ‘I’ll be in my antechamber,’ he said. ‘Call me when it’s worth my while watching.’

And he left the room.

I didn’t blame him. I could only imagine how soul-destroying it must have been for him, watching it. I could understand his irritation, too, and I felt responsible. I hadn’t been able to follow his instructions to the letter. It wasn’t in me. She’d given no hint that she wanted to be treated in the way Giles had requested.

At least let her enjoy it first, I’d told my men. Even the entitled deserved their moment of happiness. Sometimes they needed it more than most. I should know.

I turned back to the video, hoping the grand finale would wipe that dissatisfied look off his face. The copse opened out into a seating area, and they were pushing and cajoling her towards a picnic bench. Once there, Matt sat down, pulling her onto his lap. I could see her wriggling to get his cock inside her. Once she was firmly impaled, she began riding him like a stallion. Rick – who’d seemed pissed off, at the time, at getting ridden out of it, rather than ridden – came up next to her, pulled her head around to face his crotch, and sank his cock into her mouth, pushing her head back to get it throat deep.

She gagged, and I was suddenly relieved Giles was out of the room. Rick pulled out and gave her a moment to get her breath back, before shoving it back down there, and this time she took it gamely, gazing up into his eyes and clearly aiming to please. In fact, everything about her seemed designed to draw the guys in, to make them adore her.

‘I want it all the way down,’ said Rick, between grunts. ‘I want that little head tipped all the way back. Get her up on the bench, guys.’

The whole group of them surrounded her at that, and she was pulled off Matt’s cock, and dumped on her back, spread-eagled on the picnic bench. The rough wood must have been splintering her back and her ass cheeks, but she didn’t seem to care. She didn’t even seem to notice. Matt couldn’t wait to get back inside her, climbing up on the seat, and crouching on his haunches in front of her open pussy, the better to ram himself in.

Rick had her where he wanted her now, her head and shoulders hanging backwards off the bench, her mouth and throat open to receive his length. She took the lot, hard and fast, as he plunged in and out of her, his rhythm soon matching the strokes of Matt’s cock in her cunt. The rest of them crowded around, offering up their cocks to her eager hands, as they kneaded and pulled at her heaving tits, sucking and biting at them as they stroked her thighs. They were spread further than seemed possible, her ass cheeks slapping against Matt’s sides as he thrust himself in.

All I could see of her by this time was her spread legs. Matt pulled out slightly and pushed one finger up inside her, alongside his cock, then another. ‘I’m gonna stretch you wide open, baby,’ he groaned, totally caught up now in the heat of the moment.

As the pair of them continued to hammer her, she clenched her nails into Rick’s ass cheeks, and pulled him into her, slamming him home ever harder. Matt kept in time, building and building the speed of his thrusts, matching Rick stroke for stroke. Hands and mouths ran all over her, as she lay arching and bucking and gasping for air. Even through the stuffing her mouth was getting, her moans were growing wilder and wilder, and finally she began to come, her whole body writhing and shuddering, as she let forth an almost animalistic howl. The noise seemed to drive Matt past the point of no return. His head tipped back, and he let forth a long, almost pained, groan, as he jerked once…twice…three times, before collapsing onto her stomach, panting. It was too much for Rick, and he pulled out and came, spurting over and over, daubing her face and tits – not to mention the back of Matt’s head – with long, white runnels of jizz.

No one seemed to care that she’d come. As soon as Matt and Rick had recovered enough to move out of the way, they were replaced by the next pair. And the next. And the next. By the time the guys had had their fill of her, she’d had her mouth and cunt used a good half dozen times each, coming at least twice more, by my reckoning. It was hard to tell because, each time, she seemed to be getting more exhausted and her cries of ecstasy had diminished to mere groans of enjoyment.

Matt and Rick had taken her again, the final time, and, when they’d come, she just lay there, breathing hard and fast. I’d wondered at the time how she’d be feeling now. Often, afterwards, girls tended to come down pretty sharply, ashamed of their own actions and desires. Not Felicity. She was still riding high, rubbing Rick’s cum all over her tits, her pink nipples glistening milky white in the dimming light.

Nobody spoke for a while…they were too busy collecting their breath. But after a few minutes, she pulled herself up onto her elbow, cradling Matt’s head in towards her belly, and rubbing Rick’s drying cum through his hair. She looked around at us all, consideringly. ‘I think,’ she announced, after a moment. ‘I might need a good ass-fucking.’

That was where I drew the line. She’d had more than her fill and enough was enough. None of the information given had led me to believe she’d even had her ass fucked, and this wasn’t the way for her to experience it, not for a first time. The remaining guys had been waiting a long time for a bit of the action and I wasn’t sure they’d be able to restrain themselves enough to play nicely. If they didn’t, it’d hurt – really hurt – at least to start with, and I couldn’t stop them without giving myself away.

If I’d had more information about her, if she’d come to me of her own accord, I’d have been able to make a more informed decision. As it stood, I was working purely on conjecture, and a generous dash of bravado she’d posted online. I had no idea if she liked pain at all – let alone the kind that came with having your ass forced open for the first time – and I wasn’t making that call for her.

So I made the sign. I’d made sure she had a good time – it was the least I could do – and now it was time to follow Giles’s orders.

I pressed pause, and called him back in.

Eleven

I packed with little regard for what I’d need. I threw things into a couple of suitcases almost at random. I had no idea how long it’d be before I returned, if I ever did. I stood looking at my depleted wardrobe, half the hangers empty and exposed like bones, and wondered if I was doing the right thing. I couldn’t really believe he’d let me be the one to go, when he’d brought this whole mess upon us.

The thought of it sent a surge of fire swelling up through me. He was, utterly and without question, a dick. I grabbed a couple of cocktail dresses – again at random – and some evening shoes, crammed them in where I could fit them, and zipped up the cases. A bag of toiletries and, at the last moment, my jewellery, and my joke of a life was packed. The buzzer sounded downstairs. I took a last look round our bedroom, so clean and light and airy, before lugging my suitcases across the landing and down the stairs.

The taxi, once I was safe installed, pulled away sharply, scattering the surrounding reporters like skittles. I kept my head down the whole way, only looking up as we pulled into Chiswick. I loved Chiswick. It was far enough from the City centre to be away from the rush of tourists and visitors, but close enough to be trendy. The High Road was liberally sprinkled with bijou restaurants and pavement cafés, and Liv and I had had some good nights out there over the past few years. Her side street lay just off the High Road itself. I’d been there a couple of times, before going to one of her gigs, so I was pretty sure I’d remember her house.

In point of fact, it was impossible to forget. The minute I saw it, I knew it was hers. The unkempt front garden and purple door popped against the other quietly-elegant Edwardian houses lining the street. It’d been her mum’s place, back when the area was less sought after, and she never treated it with the reverence a semi in Chiswick deserved. She could’ve sold it for a small fortune, but it was all she had left of her mum and she clung to it.

I dragged my cases up to the front door and rang the bell. The strains of what sounded like a death metal riff echoed from somewhere behind it.

‘Gav’ll be there to let you in,’ she’d whispered, when I’d called her. She was at her desk, and private calls were an absolute no-no. On Max Flint’s time, a personal life was a no-no. ‘But don’t worry. He’s going.’

This I wasn’t surprised to hear. Men came and went in Liv’s life like shadows. They barely had time to shove their clothes in the wardrobe before they were back out the front door. To be fair, it was usually their fault. Liv was a magnet for cheats and liars. I was beginning to know how she felt.

I waited a few minutes, but apparently whoever was strangling their guitar inside – presumably Gav – hadn’t heard the bell. I was beginning to feel exposed and uncomfortable standing there, so I rang it a couple more times.

When he came to the door, Gav turned out to be a lanky Goth with dyed-black hair and heavy eyelids. He stank of weed. ‘Uh…hi,’ he said, standing back from the door to let me pass.

I dragged my cases inside, wondering if I’d made a mistake. The whole place smelt of weed. It was like returning to my student days, back in the halls of residence. I’d enjoyed them at the time – had a blast, in fact – but I wasn’t looking to relive the experience.

He gestured up into a narrow stairwell. ‘Up there… back left.’

I began to haul my cases up the stairs, feeling those drooping eyes upon me. What the hell was she doing? He was barely more than a kid. His manners could use some work, too. He wasn’t even easy on the eye. She could do a hell of a lot better.

Says you, I told myself, lugging my suitcases across another landing and into another bedroom. This one was small and squat, with magenta, poster-strewn walls and a single bed. There was barely room to lay my cases down.

Gav was obviously bored of his guitar, because he’d decided he needed to play some Goth album or other, and play it loud. I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to shut it out and feeling like a spare part of something I didn’t even understand.