I wake to a heavy weight pressing on my stomach, heat radiating from it. I squint one eye open to find Wrath fast asleep next to me. Every inch of my body is gloriously sore. My body has never been used the way Wrath used it last night. And fuck me did I enjoy it.
I turn my head just a little so I can study his face. He’s completely out of it, His mouth parts with gentle snores. I gently run the tip of my finger over the tattoo under his eye ‘Ira’ I shudder at the memory of him telling me its meaning in Latin.
Every time I’ve seen him, he’s been nothing but calm, a little arrogant maybe but friendly. A stark contrast to what the tattoo clearly represents. I let my finger trace around his eye and across his forehead, I freeze slightly when his eyelids begin to flutter, but after a few seconds it’s clear he’s just dreaming.
Continuing my movement, I let my finger trace down the side of his face to his lips. My finger sweeps over his top lip resting on a small scar just by the corner. I hadn’t noticed it earlier it’s so small getting lost in the little dimple that he has there. I gently trace the scar before reaching up and placing a very light kiss over it.
This man is beautiful. There’s no other way to describe him.
Actually, I could think of a few other words, hot, sexy, God like, I can see the sky beginning to change slightly, the morning getting ready to break. I really need to go. I have to be back in Manchester this afternoon and I want to see my Dad, before I go.
I slide myself toward the edge of the bed, but he stirs and his arms curls around my stomach. I hold my breath for just a second making sure that he’s still asleep. This was only a one-time thing. I do not want to have him catch me doing the walk of shame.
Once I’m sure that’s not going to wake, I carefully slide myself off the bed and quickly reach for my clothes from last night.
He thinks I don’t know he stole my underwear, but I caught him slipping them into his back pocket. I could grab them out of there but decide to leave him with a parting memory. I quicklydress and steal one last look at him before sneaking out the door.
The barista placing my coffee on the counter breaks me from my memory. I give them a smile and grab my cup before heading back out to finish the last leg of my drive. I only have about another hour to go before I’m back home.
“Mum, I’m back,” I call out as I walk through her front door. She doesn’t respond, but just as I walk into the sitting room I hear her banging about upstairs in her room. I throw my keys and purse on the sofa then make a beeline for her bedroom.
“What on earth are you doing?” Her room is carnage, there are clothes and bags, all over the bed. Another box of bags on the floor, and at least fifteen pairs of shoes, scattered around the room.
“Oh, shit,” she cries out. “Bloody hell, girly, you scared me. How are you?” She stops what she’s doing, extracting herself from her wardrobe, and rushes over to me, grabbing me and wrapping me in a hug.
We may not be that close, but she’s a good mother, and she knows how devastated I am over my grandad. Pulling from the hug and putting me at arm’s length, her eyes flick back and forth over my face, then widen like saucers when she sees the marks I’ve tried to cover all over my neck.
“Marissa Leigh Brooks,” she states with a glint in her eyes. “Did you find yourself a man while you were there?”
I laugh, but I can feel myself begin to flush. I hate being under this kind of scrutiny. I know she won’t shame me for it. She bloody couldn’t, given the amount of men she’s been with since her and Dad separated.
But I don’t want her thinking too much into it. I shake my head then move to her bed, shifting a few of her clothes over and perching on the edge. She stands to face me; one eyebrow raised a small smile playing on her lips.
I let out a small sigh. “It was nothing. I met someone, we had a little bit of a thing and then I left. Please don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“Sweet girl, I wouldn’t do that. I’m just happy you met someone.” I’m about to correct her, but she rushes out, “Even if it was just a ‘bit’ of a thing. I like the smile it’s brought to your face.”
I smile then wave my hand around the room. “So, please tell me why you have decided to destroy your bedroom?”
“Oh.” She cringes as she looks around her room like she’s only just realising the mess she’s made. “I have a date tonight with Pete, and I wanted to wear my red dress with the ruffles around the bust, but I can’t find it.”
“You took it to the dry cleaners last week, after your date with Graeme was it?”
“Oh shoot. I forgot.” She huffs out a tut then dips her head back inside her wardrobe. “How long before you leave for London?” she asks as she pulls out hanger after hanger of dresses.
This is where we differ immensely. Mum is a complete girly girl, she loves to dress up, and will spend hours getting ready for a night out. She tried so hard to get me to like the things she did, but I’m just not into that sort of thing. Don’t get me wrong, I wear make-up, but it’s a small covering at best, with a little bit of mascara occasionally. And I rarely wear lipstick, opting for a balm. Because I spent most of my youth in the garden or on the beach, I was always in shorts, leggings or maxi skirts. I didn’t need to dress up and I didn’t need any fancy or expensive clothing. Watching my mother now, there is a small part of me that wishes we were closer. But we’re too different, I never really understood her style and she never understood mine.
“Well, the paper said as long as I train the new guy, that I could leave in three weeks. I called Mr Walters, who is happy Istart sooner than planned. He and his wife said I could stay with them until I found somewhere permanent to live if I need to.”
Mum stops and turns to look at me, she gives me a smile then shakes her head.
“I was going to ask if you’re sure, but that huge grin on your face tells me you are. I’m happy for your sweet girl. I know you only stuck around here because you didn’t want to leave me after my dad died. And I love you for that kid. But I should never have held on to you for so long. You deserve to spread your wings; you deserve your dream job. Promise me you’ll always stay in touch though. I won’t force you to call me every day, but I want a call at least every fortnight and weekly texts.” She points at me, making sure to get her point across.
I reach out grabbing her finger and pulling her onto the bed next to me. I wrap my arms around her. “I promise mum. I love you.”
“I love you too sweet girl.”
“Now, wear the black dress with your red heels and black and red quilted handbag. I gotta shoot. Have fun tonight. And call me tomorrow and let me know how the date went.”
