His American Fling (17 page)

“Not yet, thank you.”

“I’ll leave you two alone.”

Maggie gave a weak smile, wishing Geoff wouldn’t leave them alone.  Geoff made his way through the oak doors, closing them on the way out. She watched Campbell cross the floor.

His eyes looked sad, his voice soft, “How have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve had a cold, but I’m doing fine at school.  Nice chatting with you.”  She twirled on her heels and started to walk away, but his hand on her arm prevented her. She looked down at the long fingers she used to love to hold. “Something else?”

He pleaded, “Maggie.”

She mocked him, “Campbell.”

Campbell exhaled, frustrated, “I’m sorry.  Really.”

“Great.  Can I go now?”

Rubbing his forehead, he took a deep breath and paused before beginning again, “Maggie, I’d like for us to be friends.”

She chuckled, “Yeah? And I’d like fifteen minutes alone with George Clooney.”

He clenched his teeth. “Oh good God, can’t we be civilized?”

She started laughing. “Civilized?  I was the summer sacrificial lust fest. I don’t think civilized is the word I’d use for what we can be.”

He shook his head slightly and then he furred his brow with curiosity. “Who did you come with?”

“Henry.”

She saw something pass over his face, something hard and angry. It disappeared as quickly as it started. He smiled at her. “Yes, of course, I told him you two would make a good couple. Jolly good.”

“Oh yes, jolly good.”

There was a pause so thick Maggie had to take a deep breath.  Campbell started to move towards her.  Maggie jumped back. The door opened and Henry stepped inside, stopped and looked at the two of them, staring at each other. 

“Hallo?  What’s this? You two look like you’re about ready to tango.”

“I was just leaving.” Maggie announced.  She brushed past him and flew out to the Great Room.

Henry looked over at Campbell, seeing the pain all over his face. “I thought you said it was finished?”

“It is. I was just trying to offer an olive branch. I’ve even botched that.”

Henry exhaled. “Well, you better try again because you may be seeing a lot of her around.”

Campbell jerked his head around and looked at Henry. “Why?”

Henry shuffled over, his hands in his pocket. “Campbell, I like this one. Depending on how well she shags, I’m going to keep her around for a while.”

Campbell had no doubt that Henry would appreciate the talents of Maggie in the bedroom. “You are joking, right?”

“No, I’m not.  Why do you care?”

He grimaced. “Because obviously it didn’t end well and if she is going to be around, I need to figure out what to do about our differences.”

Henry put a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, just give it some time.  Maggie seems to have a big heart, I’m sure she’ll forgive you—someday.”

Campbell smirked, “I hope you know what you are doing.”

“Come on chap, let’s join the others.”

They walked out together, Campbell
feeling slightly sick to his stomach. He looked across the room at Maggie, her back to him, now engaged in a conversation with Geoff.  He poured himself a drink and watched Maggie, remembering the soft curves of her legs, the willowy arms, and the smell of her hair. Fiona walked up and shook her head at him.

“You better figure this out. Henry’s all bonkers over her. I can’t have my best friends fighting over a Yank, no matter how salacious it may seem. Campbell, you screwed it up.  It’s Henry’s turn now. You need to wish him well.”

He frowned and shook his head. “I’m more than happy to be just friends, but Maggie seems to find it a little more difficult.” He took one last look in Maggie’s direction and then turned to face Fiona. “Gemma called.  She wants to have dinner.”

Fiona exhaled and put her hand to her forehead and clenched her fist. Looking down she quietly stamped a foot. “Bloody hell. Gemma?  You’re thinking about going out with Gemma again?”

Campbell saw the disappointment in her face and grit his teeth, “Dinner. We’re just having dinner. It’s not like we’re announcing the banns.”

“So stock boy’s failure to give her a title has finally sent her running home to you.”

“Damn it Fiona, she’s not like that.  I didn’t give her the attention she deserved, that’s why she left.”

“Oh for God’s sakes, you gave her plenty of attention. You just didn’t give her the wedding ring and title she wanted.”

“I’m not having this conversation. Drop it.”

“You really are pathetic. Maggie’s quite a bit nicer than Gemma was on a good day. Granted, Gemma may be more beautiful, but not by much. At least with Maggie you could have an intelligent conversation that didn’t have the words Gucci or Armani in it.”

Campbell flashed her a scowl and stormed off.  Fiona watched him walk through the crowd and out to the foyer, she followed, reaching the foyer in time to see him rush through the front door. Shaking her head, she cursed under her breath.

Chapter 9

Hoorah Henry!

I had three drinks which put me just shy of being shitfaced.  Henry gathered me up just after one a.m., putting his arms around me from behind and kissing my neck.

“Mags?  Ready to leave?”

I turned around and looked in his friendly blue eyes. He looked so handsome and happy. “Henry!  Of course I’m ready.  Anytime you are!”

“Then let’s go.”

We grabbed our things and made our way back to London, holding hands and laughing about the evening events. Henry gave a good impression of Geoff that had me in stitches.  When we arrived back at the flat we started mauling each other as soon as we got out of the car. I thought we were going to consummate the deal on the hood of his Aston Martin with me hanging on for dear life.

“Henry, this isn’t the most comfortable place.”

He backed off and looked around, “Oh!  Righto!  Let’s get you to bed.”

“Now that sounds more comfy.”

We kissed occasionally as we went up the steps.  I managed to get his leather coat off along with his shirt before we spilled into the living room.  I lost my shoes and he deftly turned and unzipped me. The dress slid off and I was left standing in my panties and bra.  Luckily, I had managed to put on a rather presentable set of naughty looking underwear.  Henry seemed to appreciate it because all he did was look at my breasts.

Suddenly, my feet left the floor and I was over his shoulder. In a deep voice he yelled, “Me man, you woman...me ravish you.” 

He threw me on his bed and then jumped on, bouncing next to me when he landed. I let out a girly giggle. One quick reach around and my bra was undone and his hand was pulling it off by the straps. 

He took one look at my breasts and blurted out, “Blow me!”

I was a little shocked. “Really? Now?”  I shrugged, “Take your pants off.”

He took his pants off and I saw a pleasant erection.  I started to bend over when he stopped me. “Oh, maybe you can do that later, I think I’d rather have the real thing this
time.”

“I’m confused.  You asked me to blow you?”

He started laughing. “Blow me....as in, blow me down, knock me over with a feather. Not the American “blow me.”  Although, it’s a lovely thought and will certainly be entertained later.”

I began to laugh with him. The differences in our language became very apparent. We laughed until he finally noticed my breasts bouncing up and down and focused on them.

After heavy foreplay, he was ready to penetrate me, gave me a warning, “Mags, I’m afraid I’ve probably been thinking too much about this all day. I don’t think I’m going to be long this first go.”

I kissed his smooth lips. “I don’t care Henry, there’s plenty of time ahead.”

“Great, because if you don’t mind, I’d like permission to come aboard.”

I was a little shocked that he meant
that soon,
but I was also flattered. “Sure.”

“Do we need to take precautions?”

“Do you have a rubber?”

He looked at me suspiciously. “I think
you mean French letters, over here a rubber is an eraser.”

I chortled. “My God, do we even speak the same language?”

“Judging from your lovely nipples and my willy, I think we share enough of the same vocabulary to get the job done.”  He reached over, opened a drawer and pulled out a condom. Tearing it open with his mouth, with one hand he dressed himself.

After entering me, we began humping like bunnies.
Little grunts would escape his mouth until he finally let out a sharp cry and thrust three more times. Henry chuckled and then slipped out of me and onto his side.

“Damn Maggie, that was great, but I’m sorry it was so blasted short. I just can’t help it.  You’ve got a stunner of a body and well, I’ve
wanted this from the minute I saw you with your broken arm in the hospital.”

“I’m not worried. The great thing about sex is that
it usually gets better.”

He kept playing and touching my breasts while we lay in each other’s arms. He smelled like aftershave, something like Herrera.  Our eyes met and he slipped his hand between my legs again and rubbed until I
felt the waves build up. There was a tightening of all my muscles as the spidery orgasm shot through my body into my breasts and shoulders. I fell back and clamped my thighs over his hand to stop as the discomfort took the place of the pleasure. He stopped, kissing my neck and ear as I tried to catch my breath. I giggled from the tickling I felt from his kisses. He grabbed and turned my chin so he could kiss my lips.

His voice was soft, “Maggie.” He said it as a complete
sentence; as if it encompassed everything he had just felt.

“Henry.”  I whispered back. Then we kissed again.

Eventually we climbed under the covers and fell asleep holding each other. The morning sex was even better. Henry was just as eager to make love, but more in control.  He lasted considerably longer and we enjoyed a rather aerobic workout under the sheets.

I don’t understand men sometimes.  Sex brings out the strangest things in them. Some like to turn over and go to sleep; some like to cuddle; others like to do a post mortem, going over the sex blow by blow like a sportscaster at the end of a game.  Henry was different. He
liked to eat after sex, the faster he could cram something down his gullet, the better. He jumped up and ran down the hall to the kitchen minutes after we were finished. 

I heard him yell, “Hey Mags!  Want some crisps?”

“No, I think I’d like to start out with some tea if you don’t mind.”

“I’m putting the kettle on as we speak.”

I already knew he was starting the tea.  Most of the Brits couldn’t go five minutes in the morning without their tea or coffee. I knew Henry was a tea drinker just from the fact that there was a kettle on the counter, but no coffee maker.

Henry brought me tea and some rather pathetic excuse for an English
muffin. We sat in bed, drank our tea, and read the Sunday Times and Independent.  He cleaned up our mess and then invited me into the shower where he leaned me back on his chest so that he could wash my body with lavender body gel. The shower and gel felt soothing and fresh.  His touch was so soft and sensual that I turned around and let him take me again in the shower.  After we were done in the bathroom, he fell back on the bed.

“Crickey, how in the hell am I going to get through the day? You’ve totally worn me out. I’m knackered!”  He put his hands over his heart, but the lament was rather half-hearted.

“We could just stay here, not do anything.”

He laughed at me. “I’m afraid I have to go today.  After the procession, we always give a party. You see, I’m the host.”

“Party? Another party? Where?”

“At our townhouse.”

“Here?”

“No, the family townhouse.  So get that luscious body of yours ready, we’re going to have to get going. The Lord Mayor’s Show begins at 10:30 a.m. and I’m supposed to be at our position along the route by 10:00 a.m.”

“Position along the route?” My heart was beating fast again and I was starting to stress out.                           

“My family holds a position near St. Paul’s.  We sit there every year.”

“I’m shuddering at the thought of it all. I thought we were just going to be two people standing on the side of the road watching the parade. What are you wearing?”

Without batting an eye he said, “I’ll be in
my Earl’s cape with the ermine trim.”

My heart started pounding; I could feel it in my head. I was trying to say something and I could see an immediate change in his demeanor.  He looked frightened, worried.

“Mags!  You’ve gone absolutely white!  I was just joking.  I don’t own a cape with ermine.  Here, sit down, have some water.”  He grabbed an opened bottle of water from the night stand, handing it to me as I sat down. “Darling, poor Mags, I didn’t mean to wind you up that far! I really have plonked you down in the thick of it, haven’t I?”

I nodded weakly. “I’m a little overwhelmed.”

His voice was soft, soothing, “I can see that. Let me reassure you that I am going to wear slacks, shirt, sweater and a sports jacket.  Nothing fancy.”

My brow furrowed with anxiety. “But, I brought Levis!”  My voice cracked, “I thought we’d be wearing Levis!”

“You can wear Levis. I have to wear slacks and a sports coat since they’ll take my picture with the Lord Mayor for various magazines.”

  I could feel the tears brimming.  I felt
so stupid and incompetent. “I can’t wear Levis while you’re dressed in nice casual clothes!”

He hugged me. “Then I’ll dress in Levis too.”