‘Cameron.’
25
James
My hands curlaround her shoulder immediately, her body turning as the door glances past her. Protection—avoidance of injury—is my immediate instinct, my second to make sure she’s okay. My third is the overwhelming urge to pull the head off the wanker who almost opened the door on her face. But innate behaviours adapt to certain stimuli. Like the body of the woman under your hands suddenly turning as stiff as a corpse. A split second later and I’m staring over her head into a face I immediately dislike. She doesn’t even have to say his name for me to know who this bastard is, but she says it anyway as waves of hostility emanate from him.
‘Cameron.’
There’s no tenderness in her deliver. No hurt or hate nor upset. No warmth or pleasure. She doesn’t even betray a modicum of shock. In fact, there’s very little to discern in her tone at all. Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps the opposite of love is indifference.At least, for her.
He doesn’t speak, but he processes the situation, much as do I. Like two dogs circling, sizing the other up before one lunges for a bite. Metaphorically speaking; I only bite the people I like.
The man is around Miranda’s age, maybe a little older, fairly tall and broad, though heavyset might be a more apt description. The kind of thick that has the propensity to turn to fat with age. He’s fair, not bad looking, relatively speaking, though his complexion is slightly florid for someone so young. In fact, he has the kind of colouring you’d expect to find on a pensioner with gout. On a second examination, it could be that he’s embarrassed as his gaze slides from Miranda’s face to mine, his expression shuttering.
That’s right, fucker. You take a good look at me. Remember this face because this is the face that gets up close and personal with the woman you threw away. These hands touch her liberally. This mouth tastes and devours. This heart holds her, no matter how much she tries to fight the inevitable.
In an unconscious moment, my hand tightens on her shoulder, her body moving closer with the kind of synchronicity that speaks of familiarity. Of intimacy. He doesn’t miss the understanding between us; this is a man who is familiar with the tide of her movements. The ways of her body.
The realisation hurts, doesn’t it? The grass is always greener on the other side. The pussy is always tighter, and the blow jobs alwaysmore. Until you realise what you’ve lost. This is a realisation that has already settled on him before now.
Youth is wasted on the young. And the stupid.
‘We should get going,’ I murmur huskily, grazing her jaw with my lips, gratified by the dozen small ways she responds to me. Her tiny hitch in her breath, her body unconsciously moving with mine. The way she leans into my touch as though she’s already forgotten he’s standing in front of her. I’m aware I’m acting like a cock, but the feathery kind. I’m just protecting my little flock. Grooming. Preening. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes.’ An affirmation delivered on a longing sigh. My head turns to him, the motion like a gun raised in an old cowboy film.
‘You’re in the way.’ Physically, not longer literally. Of that, I’m sure.
His eyes flick back and forth between us. He knows we can’t get by, not unless he moves. I’ve no intention of barging past, shoulder to shoulder. What we have here is an impasse. A pissing competition. Perhaps I’d get out my cock if I were twenty years younger.
‘Excuse me.’ My tone is arctic, my stance bold.
Miranda’s gaze is one of panic for a split second. Because that’s all the time it takes for me to press my lips to her cheek again.
‘You’re in the way.’ The second time, I’m less polite. I’m also aware of the hush that’s fallen on the tables behind us, just as I’m aware of the change in his expression as his gaze hardens.
‘You’ve got my ring.’
‘And you’ve got my best friend,’ Miranda retorts immediately. ‘But what do you know? They’re both bloody worthless. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘No? I bet your mother doesn’t, either. It was her mother’s ring,’ she says almost as an aside in my direction. ‘I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know that you’ve pilfered the diamond.’
‘Youdon’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,’ he snarls. ‘But it sounds to me like you’ve swapped a diamond worth twenty grand for something worthless. I’m sure the police would just love to hear about this.’
Miranda inhales sharply. And that’s my cue.
‘Out.’ Pushing him out of the doorway with my hands on his shoulders wouldn’t be my first choice. It’s a little too school yard for me, but what the hell, I need the space.
‘Get your fucking hands off me,’ he yells as he stumbles out into the evening light. ‘Or you’ll find yourself in the nick, too.’
‘Don’t make idle threats. Just get the fuck out of my way, and while we’re having this conversation,’ I say, going toe to toe with him, ‘don’t you ever speak to her in that tone.’
The little prick ignores me, calling out to Miranda over my shoulder. ‘So this is who you replace me with?’
‘It’s called an upgrade,’ I growl, getting right in his face.
