Charles is lucky. He got caught in the middle of a steamy daydream by the most oblivious of his friends. No need to worry about the fire painted on his cheeks.
Spencer ushers him towards the front door. ‘Party time!’
‘I don’t mean to be unpleasant but—’
‘You’re about tobe.’
‘—did Elsy invite you?’
‘No, but you’re bringing me. And I’m bringing fun.’
‘Fun?’ Charles comes to a stop. ‘No way. You’re not selling your shit at Elsy’s.’
He raises his hand, open and flat, but Spencer slaps it away with a chortle.
‘Chill, I know who to—’
‘Give it to me! I’m not in the mood.’
Spencer rolls his eyes and takes a sachet of pills out of his jacket. ‘You’re such a wet blanket.’
Charles snatches it and shoves it into his pocket.
‘I’m gonna get that back before I leave!’
‘Don’t hold your breath.’
Once in the entrance hall, Spencer makes a bolt for the front room, where house music and cheerful voices are coming from. But he’s not fast enough. Elsy spots him from the imperial staircase she’s climbing down.
‘You broughthim? What have I done to you?’
‘I’ll make sure he behaves.’ Charles smiles, because she’s not just a vision, she’s one he needed badly. ‘You look great.’
She actually looks spectacular in a black dress whose see-through neck teases her cleavage. Charles kisses her forehead and closes his eyes. She also smells amazing. A hint of vanilla in her hair and the perfume he gifted her last Christmas on her skin. Her lone instruction was that the perfume matched with vanilla, because changing her hair product was out of the question. Charles trusted the saleswoman, and Elsy showed her appreciation in many ways.
He caresses the lace on her forearm. ‘Do you have a moment?’
‘Yes, I left Divya in charge of hosting while she’s sober. What’s up?’
Charles whisks her into the hallway on the right. The first room isCatriona’s study, secured with an entry code – the date Charles and Elsy made their relationship official. He presses the six figures and pushes the door with his hip.
‘Why are we hiding in—’
He muzzles Elsy with a kiss she instantly leans into, slamming the door shut with her heel.
She tastes like juice, which Charles suspects to be part of a cocktail she filled Catriona’s tea pots with. He drops his coat and leads her across the room, feeling for the slit of her dress. But when her lower back meets the pedestal Victorian desk, she places a firm hand onto his chest.
‘Hang on… Catriona has installed a camera in that corner. It’s connected to her phone, so she received a text when you entered the code and will… She’ll check what’s going on… and… Chips…’
‘Then let’s give her a show worth her while,’ he whispers around her earlobe.
‘What?’ Elsy stretches over backwards. ‘Who are you? And what’s gotten into… You know what? I don’t care. The floor is yours.’
She pulls herself onto the desk and clasps his waistband.
Ever since they broke up, and sleeping together became a perk of nights spent in the same room, they only had sex in bed. A pleasing routine Charles makes a note never to go back to. That would be like using his old hi-fi system again, when the new one increases the power of his favourite symphonies tenfold.
It’s different, yet familiar, and when his body spasms between Elsy’s thighs, he feels more composed than he’s been all week.
