“My dad nearly had a heart attack. Assumed it was a joke. But I surprised everyone. I liked it. Liked the fact that every day was different. That you never knew what was coming at you. And I liked the craic with the boys. We didn’t have female superiors in those days.”
She raised an eyebrow. Then slid off to the bar to buy another round. So this clearly wasn’t just a quick drink after work, then. Mark wondered how he should play this, but was none the wiser by the time she’d returned. Her cleavage winked at him as she placed the drinks on the table. Whether this was accidental or not was impossible to tell.
“How about you? Why’d you join?”
A brief pause, then:
“To help people.”
Brief and to the point. Was that all? Then:
“When I walked into Ben’s house. Saw the carnage. And helped save that boy from a similar fate. That was it for me. I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t walk away after that.”
“You’re good at it. Saving people, I mean.”
She looked at him intently. He hesitated, then continued:
“I would have quit by now, if it wasn’t for you. I didn’t tell you this, but I’d written the letter. Was ready to hand it in. To give up. But you saved me. Saved me from myself.”
Said with passion and from the heart—for a moment Mark felt ashamed of his openness, his nakedness. But it was true. Without her, who knew where he’d be? She looked at him, suddenly earnest. Had he messed this up? Then she leaned across the table and kissed him.
Outside, he smiled as he offered her the cheesiest line he could think of.
“Your place or mi—”
“Yours.”
47
Mark’s flat was a mess. He hadn’t planned on seducing his superior that day and the vestiges of last night’s meal were still in evidence. Still, he’d changed the bed linen that morning and it felt clean and crisp as they sank down onto it.
She’d never been one for small talk. And the same was true now. Usually the man sets the pace in these things—or tries to—but that was not the case here. Mark was both surprised and aroused by how firmly his boss took the lead.
“I’d offer you a drink, but...”
She didn’t bother to reply. She just crossed the flat and kissed him. Then, dropping her coat on the floor, she asked him which direction the bedroom was in. Once inside, she shoved him down onto the bed and reached for his belt.
Mark had made love many times, but he realized that this was the first time that he’d been made loveto.Angry at being made to submit, he tried to spin her round. Now that he was aroused he suddenly wanted to dominate her—fuck her, bully her—but she pinned him back down, straddling him forcefully.
Was she loving him or just taking her pleasure from him? Mark suddenly realized that this mattered to him. That even now as she was lowering herself onto him, causing a sweet shudder to ripple through both of them, he wanted this to mean something, rather than just be a bit of fun. Men were supposed to be dissociative about sex. Able to turn off their emotions and think with their dick. But Mark had never been like that.
Again he tried to maneuver her so that he could be on top, but she pushed him back down aggressively. Clearly she wasn’t ready to go there yet, so Mark decided to submit. The battle over, their lovemaking became more relaxed, more tender. Helen slowed the pace and finally their bodies moved in tandem. To Mark’s surprise, she seemed to be enjoying it. Enjoyinghim.Brushing her nipples over his lips, Helen slid her hand between her legs, pleasuring herself as she rocked back and forward on top of him.
Mark was fighting desperately now to hold off his orgasm. It’s one thing to screw your boss. Quite another to screw her badly. Or too briefly. So he fought, conjuring all sorts of dull and mundane images to suppress his excitement, but as Helen picked up the pace again, sensing his orgasm, it was only going to end one way.
He wanted to apologize. But wasn’t sure whether it was warranted. She helped him out.
“That was nice.”
Mark once again felt all his doubt disappear. He held her close and warm and to his surprise she didn’t resist. She nestled into his side to dwell in postcoital happiness.
As they lay there, the sheet barely covering them, Mark ran his eye over her body. In the throes of passion, he’d felt scratches on her back, but hadn’t paid any heed to them. Now, less distracted and more curious, he looked at them in more detail. He was shocked. The rest of her was so soft, so clean, so... perfect.
She must have sensed his thoughts, because she pulled the sheet up over her back. Conversation closed before it had even started. They lay together in silence for a while. Then she turned to him and said:
“This is between us and no one else. Okay?”
It wasn’t an order, nor was it fearful. No, it was beseeching, almost tentative. Mark was surprised again on this, the most surprising of days.
