It’s messy and loud. Ludo meets my every movement with a drive of his own, and the bed begins to shunt against the wall. It’s as though I’ve never done this with anyone. As though every desire I ever had was for him and I saved it up my whole damn life.
I shove him onto his stomach, ignore the creaking protest in my bad leg, and fuck him harder, leaning heavily on him, pushing him into the mattress. He yelps and arches against me. My hands twitch to soothe him. I want to be gentle. I want to be kind. But somehow I know it isn’t what he wants.
Ludo makes a strangled sound. “I’m so close.”
Relief floods me. And then panic. As ever, I’m fighting a swelling tide, but I don’t want this to be over. I ease off a touch, hoping to delay the inevitable, but it has the opposite effect. The change in pace sends new spasms of heat through me, and pleasure coiled deep in my belly sets up an ambush.
Ludo cries out and drives his fist into the bed. His body convulses and the sight of him falling apart catapults me over the edge of the cliff.
I fall like a speeding bullet, and for the first time since the accident, I embrace the world as it zips by. There’s no destination. No hard landing. Only a sense of belonging that’s wrapped up in something so fucking glorious I can’t comprehend it. Sounds fall from my mouth: primal, animalistic shouts that leave my voice ragged, my throat hoarse.
Ludo, Ludo, Ludo.
“Ludo, Ludo, Ludo.”
I collapse on top of him. He’s laughing and laughing and laughing, and it doesn’t occur to me for a single second that such a happy thing could ever be bad.
Twenty-Four
Ludo
I roll over, tangled in bed sheets that need washing. My pillows smell of the woods and Aidan, but I can smell sex too. If I close my eyes, it’s as if time has stood still. I can feel Aidan lying over me, moving inside me, breathing beautiful sounds against my skin. With my eyes closed, it’s as though he’s still here, that dawn didn’t happen and he didn’t leave my bed to go to that stupid porta-cabin that holds him hostage all day long.
The maniac in me pictures myself creeping out in the dead of night and burning it down so he doesn’t ever have to leave me, but I catch the thought before it takes hold. Shake my head and laugh. Despite the fact that I’m all alone, I’m glad telepathy is fictional.
It’s early, but restlessness drives me out of bed and downstairs. Aidan has already fed and walked Bella. Tidied the kitchen. Straightened the living room. There’s nothing for me to do, so I pace around, thoughts jumping a mile a minute. It’s days like this I need a schedule. And I have one, but I’ve misplaced it, and searching for it only distracts me for so long.
Wash the sheets.
I troop back upstairs and strip the bed. With the sheets bundled in my arms, regret hits me like a stone. I don’t want to lose last night, to wash it away. Even if Aidan’s coming back tonight, and the night after that, and the night after that, I don’t want my bed to ever not smell of him.
So put the sheets back on.But I can’t. I’ve disturbed them now, and they’ll never be the same.
I drop the sheets on the floor and flee the room. Downstairs, Bella is in her basket, sleeping off whatever adventure Aidan took her on this morning. Often she sleeps so soundly that I can hoover around her and she doesn’t stir, but she raises her head as I thunder down the stairs and lets out a low whine.
“Shh.” I bend to fuss her. “Don’t start, okay? I’m rattled because I miss him.”
Yeah. That’s it. Aidan has turned me inside out, and he’s not here to put me back together again. Irrationally, I blame him for that. I’m angry. I’m sad. But at the same time, I’m deliriously happy. It’s up. It’s down.
It’s yellow and black.
Aidan fucked me like he loves me. And I love him too.
You should tell him that.
The notion is terrifying, but it won’t leave me alone. I tear around the house, searching for my phone. It’s nowhere it’s supposed to be, but I blame Aidan for that too when I finally find it, half hidden by the clothes he ripped off me last night.
Still naked, I sit on the couch and tap out a text message. Erase it and write another. Words words words, but none of them good enough. In the end I settle for three, and I fire them off into the abyss before I can change my mind.
Ludo:I love you
* * *
Aidan
Bernard won’t stop talking. For the first time since the accident, I’ve accepted his offer of a pint after work, and this is my punishment.
I want to kill him, but I can’t think of a way to do it without seeming like the ungrateful arsehole I am. In my defence, though, I acceptedbeforeLudo sent methatmessage, so I can hardly be blamed for wanting to get the fuck out of here and run all the way home to his house.
