Virtually Perfect (10 page)

Was Ben going to be OK with this?  She couldn't face shutting Bo out again.  For a little while there, that cat had been the only thing dragging her sorry arse out of bed in the morning.  Again.  That's the thing with pets.  When it all turns to crap, when you stop caring about
you
, you still have to look after them, because you're all they've got.  And in return for a couple of square meals a day, they will love you forever.  It's not a bad deal.  They might honk up a furball on your carpet once in a while, but they don't let you down on the big stuff.  All the slanging matches with Dan, that cat had never budged from her side, even when the shouting had echoed down the street.  In fact, whenever the arguments got really bad, he used to jump up onto Eve's lap and purr.

Did she really want to risk going back there again?  It had taken months to claw her way back to a life that was just bearable.  All the sleepless nights, not eating, the gnawing emptiness.  It really did feel as though someone had ripped her ribcage wide open and scooped out everything inside.

Was
she
going to be OK with this?

'Eve?  Are you alright?'

Ben stood in the doorway rubbing his head with a towel.  Her dressing gown came up to his knees.  His hair was all over the place.

'Yes,' she smiled.  'Yes.  I'm OK.'

She jumped down from the bed.

'Can I get you a drink?' she asked.  'Tea?  Coffee?  Hot chocolate?'

'...Something stronger, maybe?'

His colour had returned.  In fact, his cheeks were quite pink.  They lay on a mound of cushions Eve had grabbed from the sofa and thrown down on the hearth rug, Ben in her white robe, Eve in her black gown, toasting their bare feet by the fire. 

Ben sloshed another dose of dark rum into their tumblers, Eve balked as he filled hers half full.  She didn't try to stop him.  She didn't like it, but it was all she had in the house.  A memento from the tiramisu she'd tried to make at Christmas.  Tried, and dismally failed.

She'd purposely not bought wine that night.  Have you ever seen 'This Is What Crazy Looks Like Via Text Messaging'?  Do a Youtube search.  It's a warning to single girls everywhere.  No one expects their text tirade to go viral.  She'd made a fool out of herself with Dan, she wasn't about to do it again.  She'd even deleted Ben's number.

Eve could hear the mantel clock ticking.

'Shall I put the TV on?' she asked. 

Ben grimaced.

'Please don't,' he said.

Eve laughed.

He swirled his glass, smiling, watching her.  The flames danced across her bare shoulders.  She didn't look so pale.  Her cheeks were flushed.  She was relaxed.  Warm, soft.  Mellow.  The polar opposite of what she'd been earlier.  When she was angry, she was rabid.

Eve took another sip, tried not to pull a face.  Her arms felt heavy and her nose a little numb.  Her toes felt deliciously warm and tingly.  But she felt uneasy.  Uncertain.  A little uncomfortable.  It was too quiet.

'Let's play truth or dare,' she said.

Ben raised his eyebrows.

'OK.'

'You go first,' said Eve.  Ben grinned.

'Alright...  Truth.'

'...Have you ever cheated?'

Ben gave her a look.

Here we go...

'No.' 

He thought for a moment.  

'...Well, actually, I suppose so... yes.' 

He watched Eve raise an eyebrow. 

'We sneaked in a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20 into the school disco.  I was off my face...  I snogged Lucy Hart.' Ben admitted. 

Eve looked unimpressed. 

'...Then it all got very messy.  I spent the rest of the night projectile vomiting in the lane.  I was grounded for three months.  And Sarah dumped me...  Does that count?'

'That counts,' she said, disapprovingly.

'Your turn then,' said Ben.  'Truth or dare.'

'Truth.'

It was never going to be dare.

'How old were you when you lost your virginity?'

Eve went quiet.

'...I'd like to play something else.'

'Come on!' grinned Ben.

'...I've got Monopoly,' she said, hopefully.  'Or Trivial Pursuit?'

'Dish it.'

'Scrabble!  Everybody likes—'

Christ, she isn't still a virgin, is she?

'You went to Catholic school, didn't you?'

'14!' she blurted.  'I was 14...' 

Ben's eyes widened. 

'...With Ryan Jacobs, from next door.'

'How old was Ryan Jacobs, exactly?'

'26.'

'...Fucking hell.'

'He was an artist.  He used to draw me.  I... I used to be a life model.' she said quietly.

Ben's eyes flicked up accusingly.

'At 14?'

'...I started early.'

'But... 14?'

Eve shrugged.

'He liked them young.' 

I'll bet he fucking did...

Ben's stare was piercing, but Eve was oblivious, gazing down into her glass. 

'My parents didn't know.  My dad would have killed him...  I was in love.  You know how it is...' 

Eve took a slug of rum, and almost choked.

'He drew me one last time, then he never spoke to me again.'

'Anyway...' she gasped.  'Your turn.'

'I tell you what,' said Ben.  'Shall we just cut the crap and call this game
truth
?'

Eve smiled faintly.

'How many women have you slept with?'

'Nine.'

'Nine?'

'Nine.' 

She didn't believe him, he could see.

'...How many men have you slept with?'

'Less than nine, but—'

'But what?'

'Never mind.'

'Your turn,' said Ben.

'Alright,' said Eve.

'...How did you get that?'

He reached out.  His fingertips swept a thin, silver scar that ran perpendicular to her breastbone.  Eve looked down at his hand, his fingers on her skin.

'We hadn't had Bo very long,' she said quietly.  'I was living with Dad at the time.  I was standing there, cuddling Bo in the lounge.  Dad was cleaning the windows.'  Her brow crinkled.  'I never really understood why we had a window cleaner,' she said.  'Dad would always go out and do them again once he'd gone...  Wouldn't dream of complaining.  Where I grew up, it didn't pay to rock the boat.'  She smiled faintly.

'Anyway, Dad sloshed a bucket of water.  I hadn't really thought about it.  Bo just saw the water coming towards him.  He caught me with his claw trying to get away.  It goes all the way down to—'

'I know,' nodded Ben. 

'...You don't talk about your dad very much,' he said. 

Eve's eyes flashed up.  She smiled politely, turning away.

'We fell out ages ago,' she admitted.  'We haven't spoken in years.'

'And your mum?'

Ben watched her for a moment.  The flames danced in her eyes. 

'She's dead,' Eve said monotonously.

She looked like a doll.  There was no expression in face.  

'...I'm sorry.'

Ben felt a little winded.  She went on gazing off into nothing.  He reached out and took her drink from her hand.  Her glass clinked against his as he put them both to one side.  He pulled her to him; felt her arms wrap around his waist, felt her squeezing him back.  

Ben stroked her cheek.  Her skin was silky and warm.  Her hair smelt of honey.

'Kiss me.'

He wasn't really sure he'd heard it at first.  Her forehead rested on his chin, he felt her breath on his neck.

'Kiss me,' she whispered again.

Ben peered down at the sea of mahogany curls.  He inclined his head.  Sweeping her soft hair back, he pressed his lips to her brow. 

His eyes were shut tight, his brow clenched. 

'Please...'

Part of him wanted to run.  Part of him was already dressed and at the door.  But when Ben opened his eyes, he found hers staring back.  Pleading.  So dark.  So sad. 

He isn't going to. 
The fire flickered in his stare.  Eve knew what was coming. 
I'll call you. 
She looked away; her eyes started to sting.

Ben's warm fingers entwined with hers, pushing her hands down either side of her face.  He rolled on top of her.  She could feel his weight.  She could smell him.  Eve felt him blow gently on her lips.  Her eyes fluttered open.

Ben smiled down.  He paused for a moment.  Sooty lashes drew down over his blue eyes.  She flinched as his mouth gently found hers. 

His bottom lip pushed between hers, parting them gently.  She felt his tongue stroke her lip.  She could taste him.  Eve pulled her hands free.  She touched his face.  Caressing the soft skin of his brow, his temple, his cheek.  His jaw felt rough under her fingertips.

Her kisses grew hungrier, Ben felt her tongue drift against his, hot, velvety; playing with him, exploring him. 

Her fingers ran through his hair, cold; still wet.  Ben felt her pull.  He liked that.  He pushed a little deeper, kissed a little harder.  He could feel her breath quickening in his mouth.

Ben's nose brushed her cheekbone, his lips following it, drifting across her face in soft kisses.  His hand slid under her neck, drawing it upwards gently, lengthening her throat. 

His mouth closed around the lobe of her ear, his teeth catching the cold metal and tugging it gently, his tongue wrapping underneath and touching her, hot and wet.  She shuddered as he breathed in her ear.

Eve felt his tongue dancing against her skin, tasting her, probing her, his kisses working their way down her throat. 

Ben felt her tremble beneath him.  Heard her breath became ragged.  She smelt of soap.  She tasted sweet.

Eve's hands slid down, across his back, his broad shoulders, exploring him through the warm towelling, driving into him in waves every time he kissed her. 

Ben paused at the fleshy mound where the neck joins the shoulder.  Gently he closed his teeth on her.  He heard Eve whimper, felt her shudder.  He let go, kissing her gently, running his tongue across the little red welt.  He could feel her hands pushing at the robe, trying to push it away. 

Ben stopped.  He pulled back. 

He rested on his forearms, his face inches from hers, eyes flicking up and down, studying her. 

'Are you sure you want to do this?' 

Eve looked up at him. 

'Yes,' she murmured.

'We don't have to,' he told her. 

She stared up, timidly.

'...Don't you want to?'

Ben raised an eyebrow, smirking.

'What do you think?'

He kissed her again.

Ben sat up on his knees gazing down at her, massaging her neck.  Her muscles tensed.  Eve looked up at him, biting her lip.  His hands drifted down across her bare shoulders, down to the soft, thick velvet of her bodice.  His thumbs could feel her through it: two hard, little bumps.  His hands cupped her, caressing her through the fabric.  He watched the rise and fall of her breasts.

Eve felt his hands slide beneath her, gently arching her back.  She heard the zipper come undone, felt cool air on her skin as the bodice slid down.  She watched him looking at her, pupils dilated, his gaze following his hands, running down her midriff, pulling her dress down to her stomach, drifting up, caressing her breasts, stroking her. 

He could feel the eruption of goosebumps across her skin.  He could feel her quivering beneath him.  His eyes flicked to hers.  He leant down on his elbows, kissing her, harder now, like he had on the beach. 

Eve felt his knee push inside hers, pushing her legs apart.  First one and then the other.  She gasped as she felt him between her legs, pushing against her through the fabric, pushing hard.  She felt his hand, stroking her breast, gently to start with.  As her groans grew harder, so did the strokes.  He lowered his face, kisses drifting down her chest, mouth gently closing around her.  Ben felt her push back in waves.

His hand slid down her side, drifting along her silky thigh.  It slid beneath her knee, lifting it up.  Ben sat back between her legs, drawing her other knee up.  Eve laughed nervously as his hand glanced her foot, trying not to kick out.  He touched her ankles, his fingertips sweeping her soft skin, closing around the flimsy fabric, sliding the hem of her dress slowly up her shins, up over her knees. 

Eve gasped as she felt his mouth, hot on her inner thigh, his hands sliding along the outside.

Ben paused.

'...What the fuck is this?'

Eve's eyes shot open.  She peered down. 

Ben tilted her right knee inward, smirking, pointing accusingly to a little clear plastic disc on her thigh.