The Arrangement (Erotic Novella) (7 page)

He pulls back
to look at me in horror. "You think I'm too good for you. You think
I'll figure it out then I'll fuck you over like he did. You do,
don't you?”

What can I say
to that? He’s pretty much nailed it. That
is
what’s going to
happen.

“Oh my God, do
you even know how totally fucking mental that is?! Have you seen
you? Don't you know yourself at all? Do you really not know how
truly fucking amazing you are? Seriously?" He's getting really
angry now and yet again I'm uncharacteristically silent. He seems
to be thinking the same thing, because he says, "Good. You stay
like that. You just shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear it," and
he holds me against him so tight that I'm not sure which one of us
he’s trying to comfort. Or maybe he’s not comforting anyone at all
- he’s attempting to body-meld, to mush our bodies together so I
can’t ever leave him. And
oh
I hope it works.

It doesn’t.
After long minutes of beautiful suffocation, he releases me. “I
need your phone,” he says, and I hand it to him. No questions. I
don’t have the strength to ask him what he’s doing, even when he
calls Lily and asks her to come and join us.

“I need to go
thump my big brother,” he offers by way of an explanation. “Don’t
want to leave you here alone while I’m gone.” He reads the quick
streak of anxiety that rips across my expression and promises me he
won’t cause permanent damage.

Then he stills.
His fingers spear through my hair as he holds my face level with
his, our foreheads and noses touching as he speaks low and slow,
with stony serious intent. “I’m not going to fuck you over, Em,” he
promises. “Never. I’d die before I let anyone hurt you - let alone
me.”

And oddly
enough, I think he means it.

*****

Lily bundles herself through the door not half an hour later,
dishevelled, red-faced and effortlessly lovely. Totally oblivious
to the lusty stares she's attracting as she flits through the pub.
Harry hails her over. He buys her a coffee then passes the
me
-shaped
baton.

"Won't be
long," he tells us, emptying Jake's pockets of his belongings, but
leaving the jacket with me.

I don't tell
Lily the Curtis story yet, but I will. It's funny. I’ve attached so
much meaning to that nasty segment of my life - spent years beating
myself up over it - and now it's out in the world, I can't help
wondering why I've carried it alone for so long.

But that's the
thing about shame isn't it? The risk of admission, the terror of
the people you love seeing you differently. I guess, when it comes
down to it, I'm just not the headstrong force of nature I like to
think I am. I'm just a bumbling twenty-something, as lost and
vulnerable as the next girl. Tough sometimes, but not - it seems -
unbreakable. But that’s OK, because for once in my life, I’m
thinking I might be mend-able too.

We earmark
tomorrow night for girl-time. Pizza and ice-cream, and wine - God
help us - even though it's a Monday. And then Lily grimaces and I
know what's coming next.

"I think we
should invite Cayley."

"No fucking
way." Why mince words over this when it's point-blank not gonna
happen.

Lily toys with
her sugar packet. "She means well," she sighs.

"You
are
joking, right? She doesn't
mean
well
. She's an interfering, heartless bitch
who enjoys messing with other people's sanity. No. Fucking.
Way."

Lily shakes her head. "She's more complicated than that, and -
yeah -
I know, I know
- you don't care, and I don't really blame you. But she does
care about you. Even if she's got a screwy way of showing it.” But
I doubt very much she’s right. I love Lily, but she tends to see
the good in people, even when it’s not there. And she’s not going
to let this drop until I see the imaginary ‘good’ in Cayley too.
“She said she emailed you,” Lily sighs. “What did she
say?"

"Didn't see.
Not interested."

Her lips set
into a stern line as she leans back in her seat, breathing loudly
through her nose.

"Oh for God's sake. Fine. I'll read the damn email," I mutter,
just so we can move on and talk about something else. Something to
do with
her
man-issues rather than mine would be nice!

I scroll
through the unread emails on my phone, and there it is:

Dear Emma,

I'm assuming
you don't want any more to do with me after the stunt I pulled. I
understand. I'd feel the same. But before we sign off for good, I
need you to know why I did it.

We've never
been that close. I know you only put up with me because I was
Lily's friend - I'm not exactly great with reading body language,
but I'm not totally stupid. And I get it. I bug you. And - no
offense - but you bug me too. You're crude and rowdy and I never
know if your joking or if you're being catty. But I like you - when
you're not taking a pop at me - I like you enough to want you to be
happy.

It's obvious
Harry loves you, even to me, and I'm sure you'll agree that's
saying something. I thought you knew too, but maybe not. Maybe I’m
not the only one with huge great emotional blind-spots .

Anyhow, I
didn't realize you loved him too until you spelled it out for me
the other morning. I'm good with facts, Em, not with subtle looks
or double-edged comments. Facts. And the fact is, you were losing
Harry because of some weird attitude to relationships.

So I had two
choices. I could either ignore it, keep you as a kind-of-friend,
and let you destroy your chance of happiness. Or I could interfere,
wave goodbye to our friendship, and hope you’d work out whatever
issues you had.

I wish I could
say it was a hard choice to make, but it wasn’t. I had very little
to lose, and you had a hell of a lot to gain.

I’ve been with
my fair share of men, Emma. Not that I advertise it the way you
sometimes do. And - I don’t mean to brag - but I always let them
go. I want what you have so badly. No one floats my boat the way
Harry floats yours. No one ever has.

So I hope
you’ll forgive me, but I’ll cope if you don’t.

Cayley

“Well?” Lily
says, eventually, once I’ve read the thing half a dozen times.

I shrug. I don’t know what to make of it. It’s not exactly the
grovelling apology I was expecting, but it
is
very Cayley. The directness. The
honesty. “She says I’m rowdy, crude and catty… and I’m pretty sure
she’s calling me a slut,” I say, starting with the bit that’s easy
to digest. The bit that’s Cayley as I know her - critical and
superior. “But the rest of it…” I don’t know how to phrase this.
It’s just too unexpected. Cayley, always seems so independent, so
self-sufficient and headstrong. But here, she sounds - well
-
lonely
. “Oh fuck
it,” I grunt, pushing my phone in front of Lily. “Invite her.
Before I change my mind.”

She grins then,
because it’s obvious I’m all bravado. I can’t stay angry with
anyone willing to lay themselves out bare like Cayley just has.
Lily knows it, and I know it. We’ll hook up after work tomorrow,
I’ll make Cayley suffer a little, but in the end we’ll work it
out.

“OK, babe,
we’re all set.” Harry makes me jump for the umpteenth time. For a
big man he sure has some mean ninja skills. My heart shuttles into
my mouth when I see the dark intent blazing in his eyes. “Lily, you
- er - you wanna come too?”

I have to
laugh, and thankfully so does Lily. He couldn’t have sounded less
like he wanted the extra company if he tried.

“Let me see,” Lily ponders, rubbing her chin. “Do I want to be
a third wheel while you too make
fuck-me
eyes at each other for the
next couple of hours…? You know - I think I’ll pass - but maybe
some other time, yeah?”

Harry gently
punches my best friend in the shoulder and tells her, “I owe you
one.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll
add it to your tab,” she says. Then she turns to me, watching me
meaningfully as she says the words that make me squeeze and kiss
her pretty little head: “What are you waiting for? Go get
dirty.”

8.

The flat’s
empty when we return. Deanne’s stuff is still here, but Jake’s
taken her out to lunch I’m told, and they’re on strict orders to
stay away for the next three hours.

“What did you
say to Jake,” I ask, wondering how much Harry told him. Would I
mind if he’d told him the truth about Curtis? Maybe. Maybe not…

“Nothing, babe. Just that he’s a dick, and that he needs to
check his facts before slinging accusations at half-naked girls. He
can be a real cock when he thinks he needs to act all
big-brotherly, but he knows he’s screwed up. He’ll apologize,” he
says, and I shake my head because Jake’s apology is really the last
thing on my mind. “He
will
apologize, Emma. No one talks to you like that,
got it?”

I kind of like this side of Harry, the side he’s kept hidden
from me for so long. And when I see his hands are tucked
suspiciously behind his back, I wonder what
else
he’s hiding.

“We need to
teach you a lesson, Emma James,” he tells me with a wink. “So… what
do you want first? “The carrot or the stick?”

My eyes flash
wide as I try to peek round him, to see what he’s hiding. But he
catches me in one strong arm and grips me to his chest, his
erection pushing hard against my belly. “Well, that depends,” I
say, squishing a hand between us to rub his thick length. “Would
this be the carrot or the stick?”

He nips my ear
and tells me with a deep chuckle: “You’re such a bad girl, Em.
We’ll start with the stick.”

“Oh, yeah?!”
I’m trying to sound flirty, but it’s coming out all hoarse and
needy, and I shouldn’t be at all surprised by what he does next.
But Harry’s getting good at snatching my breath away.

The thing he's
been hiding is quickly stashed in his back pocket, and before I
know it, he's carrying me to the sofa. He arranges me there, front
down, bent over the black leather arm with my arse in the air. And
then comes the fun bit. All that time running Thrills has clearly
turned Harry into some kind of BDSM kink-ster, because before I
know it my hands are being bound behind my back. Bound with a shirt
tie, I think, as another loops around my head to blindfold me. He
flips my skirt up around my waste and drags my knickers down to my
knees, leaving my backside totally exposed.

"You've been
thinking some spectacularly stupid things for far too long, Em. I'm
going to have to do something about that," he says, and I shiver
with anticipation. I assume he’ll smack my butt - it’s the obvious
next move - but he’s got something else in mind. He smooths cold
lube across my puckered entrance and follows up with a teasing prod
of something rubbery against that too-tight hole.

So this is what
he’s been hiding. A dildo? Or a butt-plug, maybe? Either way, I’ve
done this before - I’m not ashamed to admit - and I know how to
ease it in. I relax my muscles and let them expand around the
invasion, taking it all without a qualm. Knowing exactly how it’ll
be.

"Oh, that's so good," I moan. Then I freeze as the feeling
intensifies.
Whoa… OK.
This I
wasn’t
expecting… "Christ, Harry! Is that thing... Are you inflating
it?!"

"You need to
pay more attention to our stock, Em. In fact, I think I'll be
trying all our new toys out on you in future," he laughs, but I
really hope he’s not joking. Because
this
is sensational.
I’m burning inside and I mean that in a good way. I’m so wet as I
grind my clit into the leather arm, that I’m making a sticky patch
on his sofa. And Lord, I ache for his cock. My cunt wants it most
but my mouth’s a very close second, and - hell - if he wants to try
an ear or a nostril, then I’m willing to give that a go too. I’ll
take it any way he wants to give it to me, so long as he hurries
up.

"That'll do,”
he says when I’m full to bursting. “I'm going to fuck you there
eventually. Not today, but soon, and we'll need to get you ready
first. Relax. Breath, Em. That's as far as we'll go for now." But
he doesn’t ask if I’m OK. He knows me well enough not to have to.
He knows it’s not the threat of pain that’s got me tensing. It’s
the promise of pleasure. And it’s pleasure - pure pleasure - I
feel, as his palm slams into my butt cheek.

“That’s for
thinking so little of yourself,” he says as he strokes my stinging
flesh. “And this is for thinking I could hurt you,” he tells me as
he smacks my other cheek.

“Irony. Nice
touch,” I pant, and his low, throaty laugh makes my clit twitch
with longing.

“No talking,”
he warns but his voice isn’t quite stern enough. There’s humour to
it. A hint of a dare. He
wants
me to disobey him, and I’m
more than willing to oblige.

“But I’ve done
other bad stuff,” I tell him. “Don’t you want to hear?”

“Go on,” he
says, though it’s difficult now that he’s easing the dildo - I’ve
decided it’s a dildo - back and forth. He’s fucking me slowly with
it but the pressure’s intense.

My breathing’s
haphazard as I tell him, “I’ve been walking around with love-beads
up my jacksie. Serving customers and everything.”

His palm
flashes hot against my skin as he groans, “Tell me that wasn’t a
lie…”

“Fraid so,
boss,” I say, and another smack falls, this time landing below the
toy, scorching the throbbing lips of my pussy. And Jesus - I’ve
never
been spanked liked that before. I’m crying out as an
even sharper need spears through me. I could come like this - I’m
so close - but I want everything he has to give me.