Read Sweet Reflection Online

Authors: Grace Henderson

Sweet Reflection (14 page)

“What do you think you’re doing?” I hiss into her ear.

She smiles slyly at me and shakes her head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just having fun.”

“No. You’re messing about with people’s lives. This is Laurel’s livelihood. Her dream.”

“Yes I know that. And I’m helping her out. She’s such a lovely girl, don’t you think?” Her voice hisses back, her eyes and body are angry, and clearly she knows that something’s going on between us. I need to play this carefully, I can sense it’s going to blow up in my face but it needs to be about damage control now.

“Alex, don’t do this. This store is everything to her.”

“I told you not to mess with me James. I warned you that no-one ever says no to me, but you didn’t listen. You assumed that I was all talk. Probably thought that you’d just be able to pull out of your contract and I’d forget about it.”

I’m just staring at her now. I’m seeing Laurel’s devastated face when she finds out that her dream isn’t going to happen. She’ll feel betrayed and blame it all on me. She’d be right to, it’s my dick that got me in to this mess in the first place.

I swallow hard. “Alex I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She flinches, “Oh please, don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t much like being made to look like a fool.” God, it was one night.

One
motherfucking night!

This is the reason why too much alcohol is never a good thing. I was too drunk to make sure she knew it was a one night thing. I didn’t think with my head, I didn’t think at all. Now all I can think is how my future is going down the pan. The one girl I actually like is going to hate me forever.

“Alex, what do you want? Tell me what you want and leave Laurel out of this.” She turns her body to me, and looks me straight in the eye with a challenge.

“I want you to take me home. And I don’t want you to see her anymore.”

What the fuck do I do now?

 

Laurel

 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I’m ready when you are, James.”

He stares at me wide-eyed, blinking slowly, like he’s going through some kind of inner battle, or I’ve just confused the hell out of him. Has he changed his mind? Crap, maybe he doesn’t want to do this anymore. Just as the silence is triggering a huge bout of humiliation, I see his body straighten and he smiles back at me, running his hand down my arm and entwining our fingers.

“Let’s go then.”

His hesitation has been replaced by resolve which is puzzling but he turns to Alex stiffly and says a brief goodbye before turning and guiding me quickly out the door to his car.

“Are you okay? You seem distracted?” I ask tentatively after a few minutes of deafening silence.

“I’m fine, babe.”

His words say one thing, but his tone and body language are saying the complete opposite. He stares out the windscreen, and after a few beats looks in his rear-view mirror, slamming his foot down on the brake. My arms come out to brace myself on the door handle, and I jerk forward, turning my head to the side, “What the-“

I’m cut off by his soft lips sucking and stroking mine, and I forget we are stationary in the middle of a dual carriageway. It’s dark and quiet and I’m falling into his kiss, and the feel of his hands gripping the side of my face. I can barely breathe, he’s coming at me with such force, and I briefly contemplate the reason behind his drive before his hands move down my arms and the shiver causes me to lose all sense of awareness.

It’s just me and him.

His lips on mine.

My lips on his.

Our tongues entwining.

Our hands gripping what we can. When he breaks away panting I open my eyes and have to steady myself from the dizzy feeling.

“What happened there?” I ask him as my tongue comes out to trace over my swollen lips.

He straightens up, shrugging a shoulder with what appears to be indifference, but I now know better.

“Laurel withdrawal. Needed a fix.”

I laugh and turn myself facing forward again as he starts the car up to pull away.

“My mum’s home tonight.” I throw it out there, thinking that he can choose the meaning behind the words. I’m not even sure why I said them. If he comes back and she’s there, he might run away thinking I want something serious, the whole meeting the parent scenario screams serious relationship. Or, maybe he’ll now just think I’m a total slut-bag that just wants sex.

Oh, God, what have I just done?

I’m feeling completely confused because I honestly haven’t made sense of my own feelings yet so just attempting to second guess his is near impossible.

“We’ll just have to go back to mine then.” He takes my hand and entwines our fingers, and they stay that way for the rest of the car journey. Even when he changes gear, he brings my hand over to the gear stick, not breaking our contact.

 

As we turn on onto his street his hand goes to the glove compartment to reach for a small black remote control.

“What’s that for?” I ask.

“The garage, babe. Can’t leave my girl outside.” He grins as he strokes the dashboard playfully and I smirk at his overtly male mentality.

“’Cause your neighbourhood is just full of hooligans who are going to risk stealing a car they could buy five times over if they wanted?”

“No, it’s not that. I don’t want her to get cold.”

He pouts, actually pouts, and looks sexy as hell as with his lips pursed and I look away laughing before I throw myself at him. He aims the remote and while he edges in the garage slowly I try and pull myself together. As much as I don’t want to admit it, how he’s going to react is bothering me. I know his reputation, and I’ve seen it with my own eyes, so I have prepared myself for just fun. And that’s all that I feel ready for too, I think. But, and it’s a big but, I know from what I’ve seen so far, that he has the potential to be an amazing boyfriend. And if we try and have a no strings relationship I don’t think my heart will be able to shut itself off, or pull away when the inevitable time came to go our separate ways.

So, now, I feel stuck.

Stuck between the age-old war of head, heart and body.

Head shaking.

Heart racing.

Body begging.

Before I have time to think more, he has opened the passenger door and has his hand outstretched for me. He must know I’m a sure thing, particularly after our office escapade, so the fact he’s still being a gentleman gets to me. Maybe he does want something more.
He unlocks the front door and lets me walk in first, following closely behind. I’m anxious, nervous and excited all at the same time. I can feel his presence behind me whilst I'm still standing in the hall trying to prepare myself, and his breath on my ear gets my blood pumping.

"Can I take your coat?" he asks softly, and a shiver runs through me causing words to get stuck in my throat, so I just nod my head slowly.

His hands reach out to pull the coat off my shoulders and his fingers graze my bare neck and arms, it takes all the strength inside me not to lean back against his chest and pull his arms around me.

"Thank you," I whisper, not sure my voice will hold if I talk any louder. The chill from the air around us makes the hairs on my arms stand on end and goose-bumps appear from nowhere.

"You're cold," he frowns and runs his hand down my arm.

"No honestly I'm fine." I reply, not wanting him to go to any trouble. He disappears into a room off the hall and comes back within seconds.

"Here, put this on."

I look down and see he's brought out an old navy Arsenal hoodie. It's one of his favourites; I've seen him in it loads of times and it's faded from washing. He holds it out for me to slip my arms into then turns me so I'm facing him square on and moves in closer. He adjusts the collar and reaches down to attach the zip. I can see his chest rising and falling quickly and his breathing is getting louder. I'm glad to see I'm not the only one that’s affected by what's going on between us. He tugs at the zip to pull it up and smiles down at me affectionately. It's so baggy I'm drowning in it and the arms are too long so I push the sleeves up so I can see my hands, and tuck the edge of the hoodie underneath so it's not hanging so low. The bottom of my dress is poking out, I must look ridiculous and my face clearly says as much because he shakes his head.

"Don't get all girly and say you can't wear it because it doesn't look right, you were cold." He steps back slightly and runs his eyes over my body, smiling, "Plus, you look hot. It looks so much better on you than me."

"I doubt that, you'd make a bin-bag look sexy," I mumble, too much of a chicken to say it any louder. But, he hears. And he's an ass, so of course he replies.

"You think I'm sexy, huh?" He smirks at me and tilts his head to the side waiting for a response, but I’m not going to touch that one.

"I think you're full of yourself." I say bringing my hands up to sit on my hips. I try to sound annoyed but a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

"Well I think you're beautiful.” My eyes roll so far back I feel like I might be able to see the door behind me.

“I think you’re a pain in the ass.” I reply.

His hand grabs me on the butt.

“I think you have a sweet ass.”

“Perv.”

He laughs as I swat his hand away then turns serious.

“Gorgeous.” His voice is low and reverent as he steps forward and keeps his eyes fixated on mine.

“Casanova.” I raise an eyebrow in response and my breathing is getting heavy. He’s so close and he smells so good; I just want to put my hands on him again.

“Stunning.” He brings his hand up to push a lock of hair back behind my ear and runs his fingers through it.

“Full of it,” I whisper, my breath hitching.

“Angel,” he whispers against my lips and I’ve never felt this weak as they brush over mine lightly. Our kisses before were hungry and desperate but these are soft, gentle, he’s taking his time, thoroughly searching out every inch of my mouth and I’m surprised his hands are being good and resting on my hips. I slide my hands up and over the hard muscles in his arms, gripping on tight to them. He pulls me in tighter, closer, and I go willingly, pressing my body against his wrapped up in the feel of him. He’s making me forget that we came here to talk. I just want to carry on feeling this way; he’s taking away the pain from Darren; with each stroke of his hand, circle of his tongue, and nip of his teeth, he’s replacing the hurt with expectation and promise.

 

“Laurel, what do you want?” He breaks away from my mouth to ask me and his eyes flash with a raw need that nearly makes me strip my clothes off right there in the hallway and beg him to take me.

“I…”

What do I
want
? What kinda hella stupid question is that? I want him, me, floor, wall, bed, kitchen worktop. I thought I’d been pretty clear about that earlier when I let him fuck me in my office. I cut myself off before my mouth runs away from me though. I’m trying to think of a sensible answer to his thoughtful question but my mind is one-track and I’m not able to turn around so before I use the silence to back out, I answer him.

“You.” Simple, yet effective. It’s ambiguous; I could either be talking sappy or sexy and he can take it the way he wants to take it. Satisfied with my response I smile up at him, but there’s something in his eyes. Confusion, maybe. He’s searching my face for clarification but I’m nervous and anxious so I clutch him tighter and hope that my body can do the rest of the talking for me. His reacts to mine like they were made for each other, they shape, gel, mould, and move easily together upstairs until he’s backed me into his bedroom.

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

Laurel

 

His mouth breaks away from mine again and the seconds tick by slowly as I wait for him to say something, but his eyes just wander down my body and back up leisurely as though he has all the time in the world. His hand reaches out to cup my cheek and stroke down the side of my face.

"I can't believe you're really here. It feels like I'm dreaming."

His face darkens quickly, “Babe, are you sure you want to do this?"

My smile falters. Maybe he doesn't really want this and he's trying to get me to change my mind so it lets him off the hook. All of a sudden I feel embarrassed. Usually I couldn't care less about having sex with a guy and it not turning into anything else. It was what I always looked for. But now, here, after what happened earlier in my office, I feel stupid for wanting it so badly. My feet take a step back, I have to get out of here.

"What are you doing?" He asks quickly. "Babe, talk to me."

I shake my head, desperately willing the anger and humiliation to subside.

"If you didn't really want to do this then you should have just told me. It wouldn't have bothered me." I straighten, trying to hide my fear and unease. My body turns to leave but he grabs my hand and stops me.

"Wouldn't it? ‘Cause it sure as hell would have bothered me."

So he does want this? I struggle to read him and take a brief moment to study his face, trying to figure out what he really means.

"I told you earlier, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I'm sure. I know I want this. But I have to make sure you want it too. Because, Laurel, if this happens again, you're mine. I'm not letting any other man touch you, so you need to make the decision now. Either you're in this completely, or not at all. 'Cause I can't compromise on this."

One hand is stroking my cheek and the other is sitting on my hip, long fingers gently kneading into my skin whilst he waits for my answer. My heart starts fluttering erratically. His words make me realise that if we carry on, I’m going to need exactly the same from him too.

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