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The Story Of Us
  • Текст добавлен: 26 сентября 2016, 17:52

Текст книги "The Story Of Us"

Автор книги: Lesley Jones

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

“Turn around,” Cam’s voice makes me jump as it rasps out, his gaze finally meeting mine, I turn very slowly, once I have my back to him, I pull the scrunchy out of my hair, shake it out with my fingers and let it fall down my back.

“Jesus fucking Christ Kitten.” I look over my shoulder at him.

“What Tiger, what’s wrong?” His brown eyes are almost glowing, they shine so brightly, his cheeks are flushed and I reckon he must have a whole tribe of red Indians sitting in that tepee judging by the size of it. I wink at him and he makes a sound in his chest that’s almost like a growl and I have to control the little whimper that almost escapes my throat.

“Come here,” he orders.

“Please,” I say.

He stands up straight, he’s so tall, he must be at least six feet five and broad and just so, so…

“Come. The. Fuck. Here… ” Masterful. I turn all the way around so that I’m facing him again and take a step forward, then jump straight into his arms as someone bangs loudly on the office door.

“Fuck!” We both say together.

“Cam, you better get out here mate, this blokes going off his narna and smashing up your birds motor.”

I look straight at him. “Hilda… I’ll fucking kill him.”

Cam looks at me totally confused. “Stay here, I’ll sort the little prick out.”

He looks me up and down, walks over to a cupboard in the corner and pulls out a sweatshirt. “Put that on and stay here.”

He unlocks the door by flicking a catch on the handle. Well fuck, it didn’t need a key after all, and marches outside. There’s no way that I’m staying put while Hilda gets smashed up, I know it’s no less than I deserve after the way I treated Lee but my Dad’s blokes spent months finding the parts fixing her up and that’s after the six months it took me and my Dad to actually find one that was worth fixing up. My Dad had begged me to let him buy me something new, like he had my brothers when they passed their test but for some unknown reason, I’ve always wanted a burnt orange and black Triumph Herald, with a walnut dash and a sunroof, and being the daddy’s little princess that I was, I eventually got my own way.

I went over to the big oak wardrobe looking thing in the corner and found a pair of jogging bottoms, I spent a few more seconds being nosey, looking at the shirts and ties and giving them a little sniff as I did, I couldn’t help it, he smelt so delicious. I could hear sirens outside and flew out of the office, the bar was quiet, with most of the patrons watching the show that was going on outside. I pushed my way through the crowd, I hadn’t had chance to pull the joggers on but the sweatshirt came down to my knees anyway.

I assumed the pile that was on the floor with three of Cam’s doorman leaning over it was Lee but I couldn’t really see. Cam had his back to me, standing in front of my car, talking to a Policeman. It went quiet as I approached him.

I trod on something sharp and cried out in pain. I’d kicked off my heels to pull the joggers on and was now just stood in my stockings. Cam swung around as he heard my “Oww shit.”

He dragged his hand through his hair and shook his head. “Excuse me a second, officer,” he said very politely. He had a very strong East London accent, stronger than my Dad’s and it sounded strange hearing him speak so nicely to the Policeman. “Kitten, I told you to wait inside, there’s glass everywhere. Where’s your shoes?”

“What’s he done to Hilda?”

“Who the fuck’s Hilda?”

“My car.”

He laughed.

“What’s funny?”

“Your fucking car’s called Hilda?”

“That’s not funny, that’s her name. What’s he done to her?”

Another Police car pulled up, Cam’s bar staff started telling people to either head inside or head home. “Finish your drinks people. I’m closing up early, Steve will remember you all and you can have a free one on me next time you’re in,” Cam called out. Shit, he was going to lose money tonight and all because of me.

The doorman stepped away from the pile on the floor that was Lee, as two Policemen handcuffed him and picked him up, he had a split lip and a bloody nose. He spotted me straight away, more to the point, he spotted what I wasn’t wearing and Cam’s arm around my shoulder, he threw himself toward me. “You cunt, you fucking cunt, I loved you, you bitch, I fucking loved you. Why? Why would you bring me here and do this?”

I didn’t know what to say, usually I blew them out and left or I did it over the phone, I never got to see the fallout, well I did tonight, in full blown Technicolor and I felt terrible, I had left ten different blokes in this kind of a mess over the past six months, all so that I could feel better about myself and now I felt worse than I ever had before. I felt ashamed, my parents would be ashamed of what I did tonight, my brothers would be ashamed, even Jimmie wouldn’t back me up on this one. I looked down at the ground and followed the trail of glass to my car, my poor smashed up car, the windows were all smashed and the roof was torn, the bonnet and the sides were full of dents, my poor Hilda and as much as I knew I deserved it, my temper kicked in. “You bastard, what did you do to my car?” I launched myself at him, clawing and kicking but Cam yanked me back before I made any kind of contact, the Police started to drag Lee away.

“You’re a slut Georgia, a two timing slut!”

“Yeah, well you’re a shit shag with a little dick, no wonder I went looking elsewhere.”

I stood looking at his back; I was barefoot, in a ten sizes too big sweatshirt, wearing stockings and suspenders underneath. I put my hands on my hips and watched as the Police took him away. When I turned back around to face Cam, he was standing with three of his doorman and two Policeman, they were all laughing their heads off.

“What?” I asked confused.

“It’s not funny, look at poor Hilda, my Dad’s gonna kill me!”

Cam instantly stopped laughing. “Shit.” I heard him hiss.

“I think you’ll find it’s me that he kills kitten.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Don’t worry Tiger, I’ll protect ya.” I winked at him.


After tiptoeing back to Cam’s office, pulling on his joggers and spending half an hour giving a statement to the Police, I was ready to go home. I’d managed to get back there before everyone else came barging in and throw my clothes in the wardrobe, ashamed with myself for being so slutty with Cam earlier and taking them off. I had no idea where I was going with my little strip tease, it was most definitely not what I had been intending to do when he dragged me in here. I had wanted to claw at his face initially, not his back, but there was just something about him, something that I couldn’t say ‘no’ to and I needed to get it under control. I wasn’t ready to feel yet, that wall around my heart wasn’t ready to come down. I doubted very much that Cam was interested in anything more than sex and I was so afraid I’d want more and I don’t think my heart could be rebuilt if it were to be broken again.

I had noticed that as the Police were leaving that they had told ‘Mr King’ that they’d be in touch and I sat twirling faster and faster in the big leather chair behind Cam’s desk while he showed the nice Policemen out. It occurred to me that he’d named his wine bar after himself, flash bastard, funny actually though, as the club my Dad had bought into was called Kings. I let these thoughts wander through my brain as I stared up at the ceiling whilst still spinning madly in the chair. It suddenly jolted to a stop and I was turned around slowly to meet Cam’s brown eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Twirling, you should try it, its fun.” His lips twitched in the slightest of smiles; he pulled me out of the chair, sat himself down in it, pulled me into his lap and began to twirl us both around while he held on to me, a little too tightly, I lifted my legs up, put my feet on his legs and curled into him.

“You’re right.”

“I’m female, of course I’m right.” He gave out a really big, loud, laugh, which for some reason made me smile.

“Oh Kitten, you do make me laugh.”

“Why? I didn’t say anything funny, I just stated a fact.”

“Is that right?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

He shook his head but smiled, reached out for the desk, grabbed it and stopped the chair from spinning anymore, we sat still and silent for a few seconds, blue eyes into brown, he stroked his finger over my cheek, circled it around my chin, and then traced the outline of my lips.

I forgot to breathe.

“You are all bullshit and bravado, why do you put on such a hard front kitten? All spitting and snarling, when I don’t think that’s really you at all.” I bit his finger as it lingered on my lips, probably using a little more force than was necessary. He shook his head, again.

“Why are you always shaking your head at me?’

He strokes up and down my arm, over the curve of my shoulder. “Am I?”


“Perhaps it’s because you frustrate me.”

“You barely know me, how do I frustrate you?” I don’t know if I feel hurt that he thinks this or happy that I have at least some kind of effect on him. Do I want to have some kind of effect on him? God I don’t know, I don’t know anything where he’s concerned. My life might be a mess right now but it’s a mess I have control over and that’s the way I want it to stay. I don’t want my emotions roller-coastering all over the place; in fact, I don’t think I’m ready for emotions of any kind in my life right now. I’ve survived the last few years without them and I think that I’ll manage without them for the next few.

“You frustrate me because you so obviously put on a front; I wish you would just be yourself, at least for me.”

“Why, why does it matter who, or what I am around you?” He twirls my hair around his fingers, it’s such a simple thing but for me, so intimate.

Yes I’ve had sex with men, ten of them in fact, over the last six months and some would say that’s the ultimate act of intimacy, but not for me. For me, it was a cold and unfeeling act of power and control. I rarely let them kiss me, I gave them the best sex they’d ever had but just that, they got no part of me whatsoever. I didn’t hold hands with them, unless they took mine and left me with no choice, I didn’t stroke or lick or suck. I just fucked, but I did it so well that they couldn’t get enough, just so that I could hear them say those three little words then have the pleasure of walking away, but this, him playing with my hair like this, was so much more intimate to me than anything else I’d experienced in the last six months. It was the most intimate thing I’d done with any man since Sean!

“Because I like you Kitten, I like you a lot and I want to get to know you, the real you, not the spitting, clawing alley cat you seem to want people to think that you are, and the first thing I want to know is what’s made you like this? Who did this to you? What did they do… hmm?” He raises his eyebrows at me like he’s actually waiting for an answer, well fuck that, I’m not spilling my guts to him so that I can get the pitying look I’ve got from everyone else these past five years.

“I need to go home; I’ll get my Dad to arrange for my car to be towed tomorrow.” I move to slide off of his lap.

“Don’t go, don’t run away Georgia, stay and talk to me.” He holds me in his lap, his hands on my hips, his eyes looking right into mine, through mine, into me and I have to go, I can’t have him seeing through me, into me, to the real me, I can’t.

“I need to go Cam, please let me go.” He shakes his bloody head at me again.

“You’re shaking your head.”

“Coz you’re frustrating the fuck out of me. Would you have had sex with me, earlier, before little limp dick went all mental and started smashing things up? If we hadn’t been interrupted, would you’ve let me fuck you?” My cheeks burn with embarrassment at the thought of my earlier behaviour, I shake my head very slightly.

“No Cam, you wouldn’t have fucked me… but I might have fucked you.” He lets out a deep breath, almost a hiss, through his teeth.

“Get your stuff, I’ll take you home and don’t worry about your car, I’ve got someone coming for it now, I’ll get it fixed up for you.”

“You don’t have to do that, it’s my own fault, I behaved badly, and I got what I deserved.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “But do you want to be the one to tell your Dad what happened and why? Do you want your Dad’s blokes out looking for little dick, seems to me, the poor blokes got enough problems without Frank Layton putting a price on his tiny balls.”

I actually laugh out loud at the thought of Lee and his little cock and balls being chased by my Dad; shit he’s right, the least my Dad knows about the damage to my car the better. I chew on the inside of my lip.

“Okay but I want a receipt for the work, I want to pay the bill and make sure you tell them to be gentle with her, she’s getting on and needs to be handled with love.”

He frowns. “Who?”


“Fuck, right, yeah, of course, Hilda the Triumph Herald, how could I forget?” He smiles as he speaks, he looks so young when he smiles and I wonder again how old he actually is. I’m guessing twenty-nine, thirty…

“How old are you Cam?”

“Old as my tongue, bit older than my teeth,” he says with a shrug and looks away from me.

“My Nan always used to say that and she was like eighty or something when she died, are you as old as her?”

“Fuck off, let’s get you home.”

Cam dropped me off at my flat and we came to an arrangement whereby he would sort out the cost of the damage to my car as long as I agreed to go out for dinner with him Saturday night. I agreed. Of course I agreed there was just something about him that made me want to agree and try as I might, I didn’t seem to be able to fight it.

Saturday morning I had a fitting for my bridesmaid dress with Jimmie, she was having three of us and her older sister was being matron of honour. Jim being the funky little soul that she was, had chosen fantastic fifty’s style retro dresses for us, they were really simple, in a soft peach colour, with a strapless bodice a wide ivory sash to match the colour of Jims dress and then a full skirt that came just above our knees, with lots of petticoats underneath. Jimmies dress was the same style but where ours were strapless, she had lace over the bodice, with three quarter lace sleeves and a massive bow at the back of the sash around her waist, we all had little short veils for our heads, Jims was longer and covered her face, the whole thing was so her and I just loved it.

I got the usual telling off from Claude and Sally the dress-makers; I had to have my dress made slightly smaller every time we had been back for fittings, then my mother joined in the charge and started going on about how I spent too much time at the gym, at work or out clubbing, that I never ate and that I would never find a husband in a noisy, sweaty club.

“Actually, I have a date tonight and he’s taking me out for dinner,” I state loudly from where I’m standing on the podium while Claude darts the back of my dress where he wants it taken in.

A pin scrapes my skin, only just not piercing it. “Oww!” I complain, looking over my shoulder at him; we use Claude and Sall for lots of jobs for the shops and we referred lots of customers to them who wanted Bespoke tailoring so they we providing their services for free as a thank you to my Mum.

Claude looked up at me and rolled his eyes in an ‘I barely touched you’ expression. “Is there blood?” I asked.

“Oh do stop being such a drama queen Georgia, if you didn’t shock me with that last comment then I might not have moved the pin too close. You are being serious I take it? You really do have a date tonight, with a real man? Don’t go getting your mothers hopes up if you’re just trying to placate her.”

My family had no idea about the life I’d been leading these past six months, no idea I’d been leading men around by their dicks just for the pure pleasure of dumping them as soon as they mentioned the L word, as far as they were aware, I’d been a single party girl, living it up every weekend, which was also partly true and the story that I went with.

“Would I lie to you Claude, or my mother for that matter?” He stood with his hands on his hips; eyebrows raised and pouted his lips. Claude was the gayest straight man I’d ever met and the most amazing tailor, seamstress, maker of things, or whatever his title was, that I’d ever had the pleasure of doing business with.

“Probably yes,” he said through a mouthful of pins. I nodded.

“Yea you’re right but on this occasion I am telling the truth.”

“Who’s the date with? Anyone we know?” Jimmie called over from the other podium where she was being fitted, I looked across and smiled at her, dare I tell her, in front of my Mum, God, I was never going to hear the end of this, my Mum would be wanting to meet him and have him round for Sunday lunch, she was busy faffing around with Jimmie’s sister Julie’s dress with Sall so I took a chance.

“Mr TDH,” I cringed at Jim as I said it. Her and Ash had given me shit for months about him and I told them all along that I wasn’t interested and now here I was going on a date, out for dinner with him no less.

Jimmies jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“Yes I’m serious, why does everyone assume I’m lying today? Is it such a ridiculous concept that someone might actually want to take me out on a date?”

“No,” my mother piped up. “The ridiculous concept is that you might actually say yes and want to go out on a date with someone. And who’s Mr TDH?” Trust my mother not miss a trick.

“Oh Bern, you should see him, he is absolutely gorgeous, he’s been after George for months, what made you finally say yes G?” I shrugged, shit, what was I going to tell them? “Aww, he spent two grand in the shop, it’s the least I could do.”

“The very least,” my mother said.

“Well, who is he, what do you know about him?” I shot Jim a look; I didn’t want my Mum knowing anything, yet.

“He’s just a bloke we met in the wine bar, he bought me a drink, then he came in the shop and I helped him with some stuff for his sisters twenty-first after I’d sent Ashley home sick, I’ve not seen him in ages, bumped into him Thursday night and he asked me to dinner tonight… Okay, is that enough facts for everyone?”

Claude clapped. “Can’t wait for the next fitting so you can tell me all about it, just don’t go falling in love and not eating, I don’t want to be making any more alterations to this dress, you’re far too skinny right now Ms Layton.”

I couldn’t believe how nervous I was getting ready Saturday evening. I had my hair washed and dried at the salon next door this afternoon so I had a bath rather than a shower when I got home. There were nice clean sheets on my bed and I had lit a few candles about the place, I wasn’t sure what would eventuate tonight because I knew full well that whatever I decided now, if he tried to, Cam would have me changing my mind and doing his bidding anyway.

I changed my outfit three times before settling for a seventies mini dress. It was A-line, in a gorgeous blue colour, with bell bottomed sleeves, I’d bought it at Kensington Market along with a pair of white sling back shoes and the two went perfectly together. I smoked a cigarette while I waited for Cam, I wasn’t much of a smoker but I was nervous. I had had a couple of glasses of wine while I was getting ready, which had calmed me down and the cigarette did the same. My doorbell buzzed, I stood from the arm of the chair where I’d been sitting and counted to ten, didn’t want to appear too keen if I could help it. I looked through the spy hole my Dad had insisted I install but all I could see was his back, I then proceeded to undo the three different bolts my Dad had also insisted I have and swung the door open.

He’d turned around, he wasn’t facing away from me anymore, he was leaning on the door frame, filling my doorway, looking big and gorgeous and so fucking handsome. Just a pair of plain black trousers and a white shirt, rolled up at the sleeves to just below his elbows, I could see the hint of a gold necklace at his throat, amongst the dark hairs that I could also see there. Instinctively my hand rose to my throat and I touched my own necklace, the one that had sat at my throat for the best part of six years. Sean, no, don’t do this to me, not right now!




My brain screamed out at me.

They’re all just like Sean, Georgia, all of them.

Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off!

I literally had to shake my head to clear the conversation that was going on inside it. He stood in complete silence, filling my doorway, just watching me.

“Hey,” I eventually managed to say.

“Alright?” he replied, sounding like a right cockney geezer. He had the strangest way of talking. I’d been thinking about this last night whilst trying not to think about him, he had a strong East London accent, he dropped his H’s but he used words that most blokes from our neck of the woods didn’t. It made me wonder if he had received a private education, if he had attended a ‘posh’ school despite coming from where he did. Not that it mattered, coming from a working class background entitled you to a private education as much as the next person that could afford it, I was just curious, that was all.

“You look stunning,” he smiled slightly as he said it.

“Thank you, you look… well fuckin’ horny yourself.”

“Kitten, really? You’re all dressed up like a lady and talk like a brass.”

“And how would you know what a brass talks like Cam?” He’d pissed me off now, I hadn’t meant to swear, it just comes out. I grew up with three older brothers, they were just words to me, I managed to keep it under control at work, just, well most of the time, but out of work, they just slipped out and I was only trying to pay him a compliment.

“Because I’ve had to ask them to leave my establishments on more than one occasion, I don’t mind them coming in for a drink but I won’t have them turning tricks in my gaffs and they tend to get a bit lippy when asked to leave.”

“And I sound like one of them?” He sighs and shakes that gorgeous head of his.

“No Georgia, you don’t, I don’t know why I said that, it’s just that you look like such a lady and then you open your mouth and… ” he trails off.

“Well this is a great start, you’ve only been here two minutes and already you’re shaking your head and bollocking me for swearing.” I fold my arms across my chest and tap my foot as I look him up and down.

“Dya wanna leave it and go and find a posh bird to take out?”

“No, I don’t, anyway, posh birds swear too you know… come here.” I shake my head.

“You want me, then you’d best come here Tiger.”

“See, so fuckin’ frustrating, no wonder I shake my head, do you ever do as you’re told?”

“Nope.” I shrug, raise my eyebrows and give him my best ‘What?’ look.

He gives a big sigh, looks as though he’s about to shake his head, thinks about it for a split second, then stalks toward me, he reminds me of a wolf, his eyes narrowed as his big frame gets closer. He stands as close as he can without touching me, I deliberately keep my eyes straight ahead, staring into his chest, breathing in his scent, which just does unexplainable things to me, he uses his middle and index fingers to lift my chin, bringing my eyes level with his soft brown ones, I don’t want to return his gaze but I can’t resist.

“I’m going to kiss you Georgia, I’m going to kiss you and then we’re going to leave, because if we don’t leave the minute I stop kissing you, I’m going to drag you to your bedroom and fuck you senseless for the rest of the weekend.”

I don’t get chance to reply, shit, I don’t get chance to think too much before his soft full lips are on mine, gently at first, he tastes minty and fresh as I open my mouth slightly, his tongue slides along my bottom lip and plunges deep into my mouth, dancing, stroking and teasing mine. I reach up and grab his hair in both of my hands and give out a little moan as he licks the inside of my bottom lip, my moaning obviously has an effect on him as he cups my arse and pulls me into him, grinding against me, I can feel his erection pressing into my belly and I moan again.

“Fuck off making that noise Georgia before I stop being responsible for my actions.”

I want to do it again, I want to give out the tiniest of little moans but I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist if he initiates sex and I’m not sure if I’m ready to have sex with him. I want this to be different, I think I’m ready to try and have a relationship with him, if that’s what he wants and I would rather we establish a relationship before we start shagging. I step away from him.

“Let’s go.” He stills, even holding on to his breath, what did I say I wonder? Then I get it.

“Out I mean, let’s go out.” He thought I meant let’s go for it, bed, sex or whatever, shit that was close.

We drive into London and have dinner at a beautiful Italian restaurant in Knightsbridge, it’s very posh and there are a couple of photographers hanging about outside so it’s obviously somewhere that celebs hang out but the pap’s aren’t interested in the likes of us. The staff seem to know who Cam is though, greeting him by name and making a fuss while we are led to our table. We sit, chat and enjoy the food and the wine and each other’s company; I learn that he has a flat above the wine bar, making us neighbours. He has a flat in Islington and a house out in Stock, near Billericay but he doesn’t get out to it much because of work commitments. I’m not really sure what those commitments are as he’s a little evasive when I question him. We talk about my work and I explain how mine and my Mum’s business came about and how we got the name of Posh Frocks from what my Dad always called anything my Mum wore.

My heart began to hammer in my chest a little too hard when he asked about my brothers, it pounded in my throat, making it difficult to get air in and I thought I was going to have a full blown panic attack when he asked what Lennon and Marley did. I stared down at the table and tried to control my breathing, focusing on the food left on my plate, which is entirely the wrong thing to do, as the thought of food is adding to the nausea I’m starting to feel and the fear of being sick, starts adding to my panic. His hand reaches across the table to mine, where it’s clenched into a fist, gripping hold of my napkin; he takes it and uncurls my fingers.

“Georgia, its fine.” I slowly bring my eyes up to meet his and he dips his head slightly, shakes it and says, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it babe, tell me another time.” His deep voice is soft and gentle and I nod slightly as my breathing begins to slow.

This is ridiculous; I’ve been apart from Sean for almost four years. I haven’t seen him once in person in all that time and yet still, just the thought of explaining my brother’s involvement with Carnage and the fear of being questioned about the band has me hyperventilating. Fuck you Sean McCarthy, fuck you and what you’ve done to my life. As is always the case when I think of him, Sean, my hand goes to my throat, to my silver G that’s being held by angel wings. It sits there as a silent reminder of what was, what I had, what I lost. I need it, as painful as it is, I need to have that link with me at all times, a silent piece of him, as close to my heart as I’ve allowed anything to be over these past years. I pull my hand out from under Cam’s, pick up my napkin and cover my mouth.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you, and I can’t talk about it.” He nods at me, slowly; I take a gulp of my wine, draining my glass. “I’m sorry.”

He gives a little smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes, he looks concerned and I just feel like a complete bitch, I’m out on a date in a posh restaurant and I’m almost in tears over a bloke that cheated on me four years ago and there’s nothing I can do stop it. I can’t change how I feel, I still love Sean, I miss him, I long for him and I can’t talk about him. I only have a few more months before the wedding and I’ll be standing in a church with him and then I’ll be sitting in the same room at the wedding reception as him and no doubt, I will spend the whole day and the whole night, trying, forcing myself not to look at him. Just the thought of that day and how painful it’s going to be has the blood rushing through my ears again and once again I’m swallowing hard, trying to stop the dinner I just ate, from coming back up and reintroducing itself to the plate it was originally served on.

“Do you want to leave Georgia?” Cam asks me very quietly. I nod. I don’t want to speak, I don’t think I can, my chest is so tight, I just wish I could cry, just once, if I could let go of the tears, then perhaps I could let go of some of the pain.

I don’t even notice Cam gesture to the waiter but he must, he’s there with the bill in an instant, Cam pays him in cash and then stands and helps me put on my jacket, the perfect gentleman. We wait for just a few seconds as the valet brings his car around, before he’s even out, Cam has the passenger side door open and helps guide me in, before tipping the valet, taking his keys and sliding in beside me; he pulls silently into the Saturday night traffic of London’s elite SW1 and we drive in silence until we are almost at my flat.

“I’m so sorry about tonight Cam, the restaurant was beautiful, and the food was fantastic, I’m so sorry my stupid behaviour ruined it.”

He keeps his eyes on the road and says nothing, I’ve totally blown it, I like Cam, he’s the first bloke since Sean to stir any kind of interest in me and I’ve just gone and fucked up any chance I might have had with him and I’ve no idea how I can try to make it better. Perhaps if we fucked? If we get the fucking out of the way first, it might help me to move on. I’m pretty sure that Cam would be good in bed, and I’m sure that he’d finally give me the orgasm I was so desperate for. I could DIY it myself no problem, I had invested in the perfect little toy that meant I could come in a matter of seconds on my own, but I hadn’t come with a man in almost four years, since Spain, with Sean, Sean, Sean, fucking Sean. I let out a huff of frustration that I didn’t mean to, just as Cam parked his car in the spot outside my flat, he finally turned and looked at me.

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