Breaking Leila (26 page)

Matt asked
questions and did a good job of looking interested. I was grateful
for that.

Eventually, we
made our excuses and I went to ferret out a bunch of keys. I took
Matt by the hand and led him out onto the gravel again, handing him
one of our maps.

“Shall we start
over by the pool house?” I said.

“Yeah.
Whatever. Nice to escape.” The flush cast rosy freckles across his
cheeks.

I gave him a
sharp little spank. “Less of that, please.”

“They’re
lovely, Leila. They’re just so bloody happy.”

I pulled him
down the drive. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Not
used to it, that’s all.”

I squeezed his
hand. “Happy parents or being happy?”

He tugged me
back and wound an arm around my waist. “Maybe a bit of both.”

We walked
through the gardens that Dad maintained so beautifully, past the
fruit trees and the arches teeming with summer roses. The thick
scent of lilacs hung in the air, sinking into my skin, anointing
me. I’d done it all for this. It was good to be home.

The pool house
was magnificent in the sun, the water painted by coloured glass,
varnished in sunlight and waving gently. The aroma of flowers and
freshly cut grass overpowered the smell of chlorine.

“I can’t
believe this place is empty,” Matt said.

“It will pick
up in the school holidays. Always does. People are saving their
money for that at the moment.”

“You have to
bring me back here one day for a swim. It’s like something from a
film.” He brushed the hair from his eyes as he glanced around.
“Seems bittersweet that this is what has caused all their
problems.”

“That’s a good
way of describing it.”

Enough of
this.

I took him
around a smaller path to a tiny cottage with a thatched roof. The
key creaked in the lock as I turned it. Inside, it smelled like
lavender, and the sun licked the whitewashed walls.

Matt laughed as
I pushed him up against the closed door.

“What am I
meant to look at in here?” he said.

I stood on
tiptoe and brushed the hollow of his neck with my tongue. “Me.”

“Oh.
 
Oh
.” His hands were melting against
my waist, squeezing the shape of me and tracing along the
lines.

He tasted me
with deliberate slowness–it seemed I stole each kiss, he gave them
so teasingly. When I pulled away, he grinned.

“I like it in
here,” he murmured. “It’s…quiet.”

“We should
change that.” I pulled his t-shirt up and grazed my teeth over his
nipple. “Quiet won’t do.”

He pressed his
face into my hair and inhaled, groaning.

The next few
minutes were a battle of wills–my impatient hands undressing the
pair of us and Matt slowing me for indulgent kisses. When he shoved
me against the wall, bending so he could nuzzle at my throat, I let
go.

My dress
bunched around my waist, my bra, knickers and boots lost somewhere
along the way. He pulled me down on the stairs and I mewed into his
mouth as the carpet burned my buttocks. He was so lovely naked,
that gorgeous hair falling back into his eyes, that muscled belly,
those tanned thighs.

God. Matthew,
how could I corrupt thee? Let me count the ways…

He remembered
my lesson from last night and I was more than wet enough for his
fingers. They left sticky trails over my breasts as he alternated
between the two. I broke free from his mouth to suck on them and I
tasted so sweet, sweeter than I ever had. I stroked his cock, so
firm and hot against my thigh. The knowledge that I’d finally be
coming on him made me tighten and gasp. He guided me down to pull
on his balls and moaned loudly as I obliged.

“Bossy,” I
breathed.

“Mmm. Do it
again.”

It felt like our first time all over and I wanted to do it a
hundred different ways. I could see him with his hands tied behind
his back while I knelt and sucked him, me sitting on the stairs
while he lavished his languorous kisses between my legs. I wanted
to spank hard and make red tattoos on his shining skin. Have him
beg for his release.
 
Oh.

His mouth sank
lower, kissing along my collarbone and mapping the undersides of my
breasts. He grinned up through his hair as he inched down my belly,
and I knotted my fingers in the dark tresses, shoving him. My hips
bucked involuntarily as he spread me out. The world spun on the
axis at the tip of his tongue. He licked around my clit at first,
dodging it deliberately and sucking my lips, nuzzling at my inner
thighs.

“Stop it,” I
begged.

“Sorry…what was
that?” He licked closer and I yelped.

“That!”

“Oh…you mean
 
this
.”

His tongue
pushed sharply against the other side of my clit. My flesh vibrated
when he spoke with that lush, deep voice and I could hear the grin
still stretching his face; it shaped all his words.

“Matt…please.”

His tongue
probed inside me and I rocked against him.

“Can’t decide
where you taste better,” he mumbled. “In here, or…up here.” He took
me in his mouth then, smothering it in warm breath.

Whimpers
swelled to breathless wails. I needed this, so intoxicatingly
controlled by the firm hands on my hips and the slow curve of his
tongue. My orgasm built and fell away–it didn’t matter.

“Get up,” he
whispered.

The stairs
braced as he sat and beckoned me to him. I straddled him with my
dress still around my waist. Hands urged my hips down and I
couldn’t stretch fast enough, his entry brisk and sharp. I watched
his eyes close as he sank in, let the sighs wash over me as we
started to move.

What was the right word to describe fucking
Matt?
 
Fucking
 
just didn’t cover it. Urgency coursed like oil under water,
but we took our time, as if every stroke took hours, as if the
sensation gripped my body in a giant fist and squeezed, squeezed,
squeezed. He pushed down on the back of my neck so I’d look at him,
and his eyes were so wide, he could have sucked in the
world.

“Please,” I
panted, my fingers knotting in his hair.

He drove up
into me faster, made me fall on him harder. I wasn’t even riding
him anymore, just swept away somewhere heady and visceral. I
smacked against the sweet, sharp wall and then he moaned his own
orgasm, the staccato release of it tossing me about. I dug my nails
into his back just to cling on. He wouldn’t let me stop moving, but
held me down so firmly that the sensation soaked me five times
over.

Breath steamed
against his cradling shoulder as we came down together. It felt
like we had lost a virginity of sorts and it seemed we weren’t
spared the awkwardness...like I’d cheated him out of his
self-imposed ban. I was a little too in control there, even if Matt
behaved otherwise.

“Thank you.” I
bit his earlobe.

“Babe. You
don’t have to.”

“I mean
it.”

“Mmm.” He
buried his face in my neck for a moment. “I ought to get up before
I freeze like this.”

“Wouldn’t be so
bad.” I giggled.

“Shh.”

He lifted me
gently as he got to his feet. “I probably can’t use the bin here,
can I?”

I winced. "Not
the best idea. We’ll find somewhere outside.”

We dressed in a
few minutes. I wanted to take so much more time, but we had to get
back on the road. My thighs ached from the way I’d worked myself
over him and the soreness turned saccharine, a new memory lingering
and taking hold.

I had
fantasized about having Matt so many times. In my less-than-polite
little girl’s mind, he was always willing and strong, but never so
intense. With him, it could never be just sex. The way he made
lo–

No, no.

Can’t do it.
Can’t say those dirty words.

* * * *

“Leila?” Matt
didn’t take his eyes from the wheel.

I looked up
from the paperwork I was doing a rather wobbly job of. “Hmm?”

“I meant to
ask. Um.” He cleared his throat. “How much is it that you have left
owing?”

“Owing on
what?”

“You know. What
you’re paying off for your parents.”

“
No
.” I
tapped my pen on a file anxiously. “I don’t want your
money.”

“Why not?”

“Because this
isn’t your problem. It’s mine, and I fixed it. It’ll all be over
soon.”

Silence, greasy
and unwelcome.

“This weekend,
everything that’s happened…it’s been easy to forget about Joseph,”
he said finally. “But now that I think about it, I–”

“Do you really
think he’d take kindly to me saying no?”

He shrugged
helplessly. “What can he do? I don’t know if I can just hand you
over when he asks.”

Er, hand me
over?

“But you
 
knew
. You knew when we started.” I
swallowed on a dry throat. “I don’t know what you want me to do
that won’t risk my job.”

“Apply
somewhere else. The firm I’m going to has a great reputation.”

“I don’t
 
want
 
to apply anywhere else! And what if he won’t give me a
reference?”

“I’m sorry.”
His voice went hoarse. “I just…it’s hard.”

He left me at
my door with a slow kiss, though he wanted me to ask him to stay.
It was the way he held me for so long, just breathing against my
ear. I couldn’t do it, though. Charlotte wanted to wake up next to
him, but not with the guilt trip that seemed to come with it.

I had been with
Charlie in one of the estate’s cottages. Not the one I took Matt
to–no, that would have been low even for me–but one close by. He’d
booked in on my A-level results night and I slipped away under the
guise of celebrating. Beneath the watchful shadows, he had me
splayed like soft fruit in every room.

I hadn’t known
that one day, I’d let the step-son of the man I worshipped take me
on the same cream carpet, splashed in the same golden sun. I felt
dirty for all the wrong reasons: lies, lies, lies.

“Are you okay?”
Clemmie’s concern poured down the phone line and made me feel
guilty for calling.

“No. Not
really.” I cracked a nut loudly and rolled it around in my fingers.
“Can you come for dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course.
What’s wrong? Is it Shares-Your-Desk? Bad weekend?”

“Yes, him. And
I don’t know. In some ways it was a great weekend, but there’s a
lot of mess.”

“Is it
clean-up-able?”

“I’m not sure
it is. It’s just…ugh.” How much of this could I divulge without
mentioning the whoring? “You know about Charlie.”

“I
remember.”

She had been my
sole confidante.

“Turns out he’s
Matt’s step-dad.”

“Oh gosh,” she
gasped. “God. Does Matt know?”

Crack.
 
Another nut joined my neat little line. “No, and Charlie
doesn’t know I’m seeing Matt. I worked it out from a picture.
There’s more, I just–”

“Save it for
tomorrow, okay? I’ll bring wine. Lots. And do you want me to
cook?”

“Will you make
Clem Po?” I asked meekly.

She laughed.
“I’ll make whatever you want if you make the flapjack.”

“It’s a done
deal.” Not that I could probably eat much at the moment–my pyjama
bottoms were a bit tight. Ugh. Time to start running again.

“I’ll come to
yours at seven? We’ll sort it out. You’ve been single for too long,
Leila,” she said.

Oh, cheers
. “Thank you, whorebag.” I
found myself smiling anyway.

“You’ll be
worshipping my wok when I’m done, slutface.”

Before I fell
asleep, Matt sent a text.

Bed feels v
empty tonight xxx

Get in with Toby? X
 
I replied.

He didn’t
respond.

Chapter 12

If there is a
point when the dawn actually cracks, I’ve never seen it, but the
next morning, I made myself get up an hour early and went for a run
in the park. I limped into work like I’d gone three rounds with
Aidan–and not in a boxing ring.

A single calla lily sat on my desk, plum-stained petals like
bruised velvet.
 
Soon
 
read the card. I shot a glare at Joseph’s door–as if it would
somehow penetrate and smack him in the face–and then hid the bloom
in my drawer before Matt and Poppy arrived.

I was
straightening my windblown hair in the toilets when a sob erupted
from one of the stalls.

“Poppy?” I
asked, unsure. “Pops, is that you?”

The sobbing
ebbed to a sniff.

I knocked on
the door gently. “Are you all right?”

“Leila?”

I recognized
the soft accent and my stomach did a little flip. “Isobel?”

The door
clicked open and she leaned against the stall wall, shoulders
hunched.

“Oh, sweetie,”
I gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a
meeting upstairs.” She wiped her eyes and smudged her already
bleeding make-up. “I have to be there in twenty minutes.”

I grabbed my
bag from the counter and pushed into the stall, locking the door. I
perched her on the toilet and knelt to find my face wipes.

“You don’t have
to do this,” she whispered, embarrassed.

“Don’t be
silly.” I wiped the running mascara from her cheeks and gently
cleaned her eyelids. “I’ve only got browns. Will they do?”

She waved a
hand absently. “Oh, I don’t care.”

I blotted the
moisture from her skin with a little toilet paper and fumbled about
for my compact.