The Story Of Us - Jones Lesley - Страница 29
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“Because I’ve had to ask them to leave my establishments on more than one occasion, I don’t mind them coming in for a drink but I won’t have them turning tricks in my gaffs and they tend to get a bit lippy when asked to leave.”
“And I sound like one of them?” He sighs and shakes that gorgeous head of his.
“No Georgia, you don’t, I don’t know why I said that, it’s just that you look like such a lady and then you open your mouth and… ” he trails off.
“Well this is a great start, you’ve only been here two minutes and already you’re shaking your head and bollocking me for swearing.” I fold my arms across my chest and tap my foot as I look him up and down.
“Dya wanna leave it and go and find a posh bird to take out?”
“No, I don’t, anyway, posh birds swear too you know… come here.” I shake my head.
“You want me, then you’d best come here Tiger.”
“See, so fuckin’ frustrating, no wonder I shake my head, do you ever do as you’re told?”
“Nope.” I shrug, raise my eyebrows and give him my best ‘What?’ look.
He gives a big sigh, looks as though he’s about to shake his head, thinks about it for a split second, then stalks toward me, he reminds me of a wolf, his eyes narrowed as his big frame gets closer. He stands as close as he can without touching me, I deliberately keep my eyes straight ahead, staring into his chest, breathing in his scent, which just does unexplainable things to me, he uses his middle and index fingers to lift my chin, bringing my eyes level with his soft brown ones, I don’t want to return his gaze but I can’t resist.
“I’m going to kiss you Georgia, I’m going to kiss you and then we’re going to leave, because if we don’t leave the minute I stop kissing you, I’m going to drag you to your bedroom and fuck you senseless for the rest of the weekend.”
I don’t get chance to reply, shit, I don’t get chance to think too much before his soft full lips are on mine, gently at first, he tastes minty and fresh as I open my mouth slightly, his tongue slides along my bottom lip and plunges deep into my mouth, dancing, stroking and teasing mine. I reach up and grab his hair in both of my hands and give out a little moan as he licks the inside of my bottom lip, my moaning obviously has an effect on him as he cups my arse and pulls me into him, grinding against me, I can feel his erection pressing into my belly and I moan again.
“Fuck off making that noise Georgia before I stop being responsible for my actions.”
I want to do it again, I want to give out the tiniest of little moans but I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist if he initiates sex and I’m not sure if I’m ready to have sex with him. I want this to be different, I think I’m ready to try and have a relationship with him, if that’s what he wants and I would rather we establish a relationship before we start shagging. I step away from him.
“Let’s go.” He stills, even holding on to his breath, what did I say I wonder? Then I get it.
“Out I mean, let’s go out.” He thought I meant let’s go for it, bed, sex or whatever, shit that was close.
We drive into London and have dinner at a beautiful Italian restaurant in Knightsbridge, it’s very posh and there are a couple of photographers hanging about outside so it’s obviously somewhere that celebs hang out but the pap’s aren’t interested in the likes of us. The staff seem to know who Cam is though, greeting him by name and making a fuss while we are led to our table. We sit, chat and enjoy the food and the wine and each other’s company; I learn that he has a flat above the wine bar, making us neighbours. He has a flat in Islington and a house out in Stock, near Billericay but he doesn’t get out to it much because of work commitments. I’m not really sure what those commitments are as he’s a little evasive when I question him. We talk about my work and I explain how mine and my Mum’s business came about and how we got the name of Posh Frocks from what my Dad always called anything my Mum wore.
My heart began to hammer in my chest a little too hard when he asked about my brothers, it pounded in my throat, making it difficult to get air in and I thought I was going to have a full blown panic attack when he asked what Lennon and Marley did. I stared down at the table and tried to control my breathing, focusing on the food left on my plate, which is entirely the wrong thing to do, as the thought of food is adding to the nausea I’m starting to feel and the fear of being sick, starts adding to my panic. His hand reaches across the table to mine, where it’s clenched into a fist, gripping hold of my napkin; he takes it and uncurls my fingers.
“Georgia, its fine.” I slowly bring my eyes up to meet his and he dips his head slightly, shakes it and says, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it babe, tell me another time.” His deep voice is soft and gentle and I nod slightly as my breathing begins to slow.
This is ridiculous; I’ve been apart from Sean for almost four years. I haven’t seen him once in person in all that time and yet still, just the thought of explaining my brother’s involvement with Carnage and the fear of being questioned about the band has me hyperventilating. Fuck you Sean McCarthy, fuck you and what you’ve done to my life. As is always the case when I think of him, Sean, my hand goes to my throat, to my silver G that’s being held by angel wings. It sits there as a silent reminder of what was, what I had, what I lost. I need it, as painful as it is, I need to have that link with me at all times, a silent piece of him, as close to my heart as I’ve allowed anything to be over these past years. I pull my hand out from under Cam’s, pick up my napkin and cover my mouth.
“I can’t… I can’t tell you, and I can’t talk about it.” He nods at me, slowly; I take a gulp of my wine, draining my glass. “I’m sorry.”
He gives a little smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes, he looks concerned and I just feel like a complete bitch, I’m out on a date in a posh restaurant and I’m almost in tears over a bloke that cheated on me four years ago and there’s nothing I can do stop it. I can’t change how I feel, I still love Sean, I miss him, I long for him and I can’t talk about him. I only have a few more months before the wedding and I’ll be standing in a church with him and then I’ll be sitting in the same room at the wedding reception as him and no doubt, I will spend the whole day and the whole night, trying, forcing myself not to look at him. Just the thought of that day and how painful it’s going to be has the blood rushing through my ears again and once again I’m swallowing hard, trying to stop the dinner I just ate, from coming back up and reintroducing itself to the plate it was originally served on.
“Do you want to leave Georgia?” Cam asks me very quietly. I nod. I don’t want to speak, I don’t think I can, my chest is so tight, I just wish I could cry, just once, if I could let go of the tears, then perhaps I could let go of some of the pain.
I don’t even notice Cam gesture to the waiter but he must, he’s there with the bill in an instant, Cam pays him in cash and then stands and helps me put on my jacket, the perfect gentleman. We wait for just a few seconds as the valet brings his car around, before he’s even out, Cam has the passenger side door open and helps guide me in, before tipping the valet, taking his keys and sliding in beside me; he pulls silently into the Saturday night traffic of London’s elite SW1 and we drive in silence until we are almost at my flat.
“I’m so sorry about tonight Cam, the restaurant was beautiful, and the food was fantastic, I’m so sorry my stupid behaviour ruined it.”
He keeps his eyes on the road and says nothing, I’ve totally blown it, I like Cam, he’s the first bloke since Sean to stir any kind of interest in me and I’ve just gone and fucked up any chance I might have had with him and I’ve no idea how I can try to make it better. Perhaps if we fucked? If we get the fucking out of the way first, it might help me to move on. I’m pretty sure that Cam would be good in bed, and I’m sure that he’d finally give me the orgasm I was so desperate for. I could DIY it myself no problem, I had invested in the perfect little toy that meant I could come in a matter of seconds on my own, but I hadn’t come with a man in almost four years, since Spain, with Sean, Sean, Sean, fucking Sean. I let out a huff of frustration that I didn’t mean to, just as Cam parked his car in the spot outside my flat, he finally turned and looked at me.
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