‘Your hands in mine, I felt your body stiffen against me. You were perhaps concerned?’ I remember I was. Concerned, turned on, and hanging on to my sanity by a thread. ‘The irony was, my hands were trembling badly, something that hadn’t happened in such a long time. I turned you so you couldn’t see my fingers. I turned you so you couldn’t see my need.’
‘What was I wearing?’ I ask quickly, not wanting him to stop, needing to hear how much he wanted me.
‘Are you trying to catch me out?’
‘Maybe. Or maybe I just want to hear the story from your point of view.’
‘As I recall, by that point you weren’t wearing very much at all. Delicious black lace underwear with the delicacy of an insect’s wings. That was all coming between me and your skin.’
The line goes quiet, each of us revelling in our own memories; the things that were to come.
No, not likethat.
Okay. Maybe just a little bit.
And then I’m reminded of something I’ve pondered since Kai left.
‘What have you done with them?’
‘With what?’ he replies, all innocent.
‘My insect wings—I mean my knickers.’
‘I’m not sure what you mean, sweetheart—oh, wait. Of course I do.’ He sounds very pleased with himself. ‘Your underwear from our first evening? The same ones you wore our last fuck?’ His voice is a little rougher now. ‘The ones covered in your come?’
‘I—I—’ I can’t answer, his words tying my tongue in ribbon-like knots.
‘I brought them with me,’ he purrs seductively. ‘I’m afraid they’re looking a little worse for wear now.’
‘Have you been wearing them?’ I ask, my words ending in a tiny squeak.God, that’s so dirty. That’s so... hot.Before I’ve even finished that thought, his barking laughter transports me back to the phone.
‘No, not wearing them. Using them... maybe.’
‘Tell me,’ I demand.
‘Maybe I’ll show you instead. Our next call.’
Fuck a duck and do it quick!
‘How did the conversation jump from kittens to this?’ he asks, his admiration clear. I bite my tongue from sayingnot on purpose, mate. ‘Did you have something you wanted to say?’
‘Nothing,’ I answer with a rueful half-smile. Nothing worth spoiling this conversation, anyway.
‘Is it that you don’t like the cat?’
I sigh deeply, rubbing the heel of my palm against my eye.
‘Just,thatday in the hotel. You remember?’ He says that he does. ‘Niamh called me kitty-kat, and you asked why. I said—’
‘Because you don’t like cats!’
‘They freak me out,’ I say quietly.
‘How did I not remember?’ he asks, aghast. ‘You said you’re frightened of them?’ He sounds just a little incredulous.
‘Yeah, and you saida little pussy never hurt anyone.’
‘Did I?’ He laughs. ‘Well, I can’t say I disagree. Shall I ask Rashid to deal with it? The cat, I mean?’
