Unfurl: Chapter 37
I’m new to the unique horror that is interacting with men with whom I’ve been sexually intimate. I never had to face former one-night stands at uni. And I’ve only slept with one man. So it strikes me as unjust and excruciating in equal measure that this particular Wednesday night at Alchemy should feel like a dystopian version of This is Your (Brief but Productive Sexual) Life.
‘Belle, meet Alex,’ Rafe says. I don’t miss the clipped curtness of his tone, nor the way his arm tightens around my shoulders in the booth we’re sharing with Maddy, Genevieve—Gen, Callum and Zach. It’s already weird enough sitting here opposite a guy I’ve been intimate with and who Maddy’s actually shagged. Though I can’t say either Maddy or Callum seems remotely fazed by the incestuous nature of our gathering.
I turn my attention to the blonde guy standing by our booth, smiling at me. Good Lord, he really is handsome. Rafe was right. He definitely has an air of Hangman from Maverick about him. Yummy.
Too bad he’s not the gorgeous, moody-looking, dark-haired devil whose thigh is brushing mine and who’s captured my heart. Still. He’s hot. It’s deeply freaky to think that this guy could have been the one I gave my virginity to. He could have had his actual penis inside me, his entire body bearing down on mine as he thrust. The thought is both fascinating and horrifying. Even so, he has brought me to orgasm with his tongue, a fact I can’t quite deal with at this moment.
‘Good to see you, Belle,’ he says, his blue eyes shining as he leans forward to shake my hand.
I appreciate that he said good to see you. He didn’t say good to meet you, which would have been disingenuous, or add a pointed again, which would have been creepy. No, he got it just right. Clearly he’s a gentleman (his penchant for sex clubs notwithstanding, of course, because this new, emancipated Belle doesn’t judge).
I aim for friendly neutrality and shake back, seeking refuge in the oldest, most noncommittal rhetorical question in English greetings history. ‘How do you do?’
Being just as English as me, he understands I don’t actually want to know how he’s doing and ignores the question. The expression on his face is appreciative but not creepy, and for that I’m grateful.
We all make polite small talk, before Alex gestures at the Double Doors of Doom and explains that he’s off to the Playroom.
He’s off to have sex.
God, this place is so weird.
Not that he’s alone. Rafe and I will probably go next door in a bit and, um, make use of the facilities. If Maddy and Callum don’t end up in there, either together or individually, I’ll eat my hat.
The only unknowns are Zach and Genevieve. Genevieve keeps her cards close to her chest, and Rafe’s filled me in on Zach’s incredibly tragic story. My heart bleeds for him and his little girls. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for him to put one step in front of the other each day. He’s such a good-looking guy, with even darker hair than Rafe and gorgeous blue eyes that bear the purple shadows of the chronically exhausted.
He’s quieter than the others—not that it’s hard to be quieter than Callum. Zach seems largely content to observe, but when Maddy speaks, I’ve noticed him casting long, sideways glances at her.
Maddy is the reason we’re here. She’ll be joining Alchemy next week to take over some admin jobs and to manage their social media. I can’t wait to see her unleashed on their Instagram account. She’ll be amazing. She’s already quit her temping job and is enjoying a few days off.
She and Gen have been talking a lot. I know Maddy had psyched herself up to apply for a hosting role in the club itself, but it strikes me that this is a better fit for her. She’s extremely commercial and far more efficient than she lets on, and I know she’ll do a great job for them.
The icing on the cake? She gets Alchemy membership as part of her package, so she can come here as often as she likes.
We’re here to toast Maddy, and despite the awkwardness of having Callum and Alex at large, I’m enjoying myself. These are Rafe’s people, and I’m committed to getting to know them better. It’s tempting to write Callum off as a good-natured oaf, but Rafe tells me he’s one of the kindest, most big-hearted people he knows.
Maddy is the centre of attention, and she’s in her element. She’s all dressed up in a tiny, shimmery black dress. Her skin is luminescent beyond all decency or fairness, and her light grey-green eyes are huge and clear. She has the sweetest mouth, with a top lip that curves up into a high Cupid’s bow, and if I were ever to kiss a girl, I’d want to kiss her.
She flicks her hair over her shoulder. It’s straight, shiny, and the colour of milk chocolate. She’s wedged between Zach and Callum, telling a story about one of the entitled guys at the hedge fund where she’s been temping. Her hands move just as fast as her words spill out, and she has everyone in fits of laughter. No one can compete when she’s like this. She’s on fire.
I’m sitting as close as I possibly can to Rafe without being on his lap. I turn my face so I can whisper in his ear, thrilling in the feel of my lips moving over stubble as I do.
‘Do you think Zach has a thing for Maddy?’ I ask so only he can hear. My hand rests on his thigh, which is rock hard under his expensive wool trousers.
We’re so going next door later.
He pulls back so he can, in turn, seal his lips to my ear.
‘I hope not. But I did wonder the other day, from a couple of things he said. I’ll fill you in later, but she’d better not try anything.’
I frown. She’s my best friend, but I can only imagine how protective Rafe is of Zach after all he’s been through. And I agree. She and Callum seem like a better fit. They both have a lighthearted, I’ll-try-anything-once vibe about them. As if life is an adventure and every moment is to be savoured. Maximised.
It’s not a bad way to live.
Rafe’s lips are back at my ear. ‘I can almost see your nipples from here. We need to get next door. Soon.’
I smirk. I’m wearing a stunning, palest pink cocktail dress in sumptuous duchesse satin. Everything about it is classy, except for its low-cut neckline. So low cut, in fact, you can see almost to my navel.
‘Er, Belle, I think Rafe could knock you up just from the looks he’s giving you,’ Callum interjects.
Rafe tenses beside me, but Maddy gets there first. ‘It’s such a shame they didn’t teach you any basic human biology at Loyola,’ she says sweetly.
Callum turns and winks. ‘You didn’t have any complaints about my knowledge of human biology the other night.’
Maddy and Gen both roll their eyes. Zach frowns. And Callum, predictably, laughs at his own joke.
‘Hey, Belle,’ Zach says after he’s recovered with a sip of his drink, ‘has anyone ever told you you look just like Bridget Hall?’
Gen and Callum snigger while Rafe emits a mighty sigh.
‘Uh, yeah, I think a couple of people have,’ I say, trying to recall. ‘Wasn’t she a model in the nineties?’
‘Don’t listen to them,’ Rafe tells me.
Zach ignores him. ‘She was indeed.’ A smile grows on his face. He’s so good-looking, and he’s utterly transformed when he smiles. ‘She did a lot for Ralph Lauren. When we were at school, little Rafey here was obsessed with her. Fucking obsessed. He had posters of her all over his wall. She was the only woman he ever loved. Until you. He definitely has a type.’
He and Callum fall about laughing on either side of a surprised and delighted Maddy. Rafe shifts uncomfortably beside me while I squirm internally. Presumably he’s uncomfortable with their use of the L-word.
But then he kisses my temple. ‘It’s true,’ he tells the table. ‘She blew my mind. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. But Belle here makes her look positively forgettable.’
The guys make gagging faces. Gen and Maddy beam at Rafe in approval, and I turn my head so my swoonworthy boyfriend can kiss me.
RAFE
We didn’t go to the Playroom last night. Cal, Gen and Maddy were all going through, and it felt too close for comfort. I wanted Belle to myself. Wanted to slide that mind-fuck of a dress off her and worship her in the privacy of my bedroom.
In the end, we didn’t even get that far. Belle had to grab some stuff from her parents’ place, and as soon as I got her over their threshold I was spinning her around, and unzipping the dress, and kissing down her bare, golden spine as my hand reached down between her cheeks to the wet heat I knew I’d find.
I ate her like that, up against the door, before carrying her back to her room, her long legs wrapped around my waist and her soaked pussy pinning my cock to my stomach. Then I fucked her twice, once from behind and once letting her ride me. Find her own rhythm.
It’s only been a few days since I fucked her for the first time. I’m still taking it slow, still being careful, but she’s a fast and enthusiastic learner, and fuck me if teaching her isn’t the best thing I’ve ever done.
She’s still sleeping beside me. I drop my head to the side so I can take her in. Christ, she’s beautiful. Her beauty is the kind that can bring a man to his knees. That brought me to my knees the first time I saw her. Her hair is a messed-up mane, burnished with gold in the morning light that’s flooding the bedroom. We were so crazy for each other last night we forgot to close the blinds.
But she’s so much more than that. Belina Scott is the most bewitching, beguiling woman I’ve ever met. Impossibly young and innocent, and yet an old head on young shoulders. As if she’s lived a thousand lives and brought wisdom from each previous existence through to this one.
She’s fragile and strong. I want to protect her and watch her fly.
I love her.
That much is clear. I’m hopelessly in love with her, completely in awe, and unable to conceive of a life without her. My soulmate and my salvation have taken the form of a twenty-two-year-old innocent.
The universe certainly has a sense of humour.
I glance at my watch. It’s nearly eight. We’ll have to get on with our day shortly. Her gallery doesn’t open till ten, and I’m due at Cerulean today, but I’m late. I’ve already missed the Continental European markets opening. I couldn’t give a flying fuck. I’ll monitor the opening of the FTSE from my phone. Cover my bases.
But first, coffee. I grin to myself as I get gingerly out of the bed and pad, stark naked, across the bedroom floor. An espresso, served up by a naked and adoring man, will hopefully start my Belle’s day off on a positive note.
In the kitchen, I slide a cup under the coffee machine as I wait for it to heat. The sky, as glimpsed through Belle’s parents’ wall of French windows, is hazily blue. It’s going to be a beautiful day. Perfect to walk Belle to work through the park.
I’m staring out of the windows and absent-mindedly scratching my stomach when the sound of a door opening makes me freeze.
That heavy click sounds like the front door. It can’t—
Oh, fuck.
As if in slow motion, the inner door opens.
The one I pushed my girlfriend up against as I ate her greedy pussy last night, in fact.
In walks Belle’s father.