Trust Me (Beggar's Choice #2) (26 page)

The whole episode seems so
dreamlike and different that it takes me a while to realise what the difference
is until it hits me like a thunderbolt – this isn’t fucking anymore, this is
making love in all its different aspects - raunchy and near the knuckle, tender
and wild and always, always safe. He must feel the jolt that runs through my
body because he raises his head from where it has been nestled in my neck and
looks at me. We stare for a second as his narrow hips move smoothly and then
the tenderest expression crosses his face. “Nell,” he whispers in an awed
voice, and that’s all I need because I’m powerless to stop my climax as it
rushes through me like liquid sunshine. He growls deep in his throat and then
cries out and I feel the warmth of his release flood me.

We lie for a few minutes with my
legs wrapped tightly around him, feeling the slip of his semen as it slides out
of me and over him, until finally with a reluctant sounding groan he pulls out
of me. He immediately draws me into his side so that he can run his hand
through my hair which has become a habit with him lately. A rogue sunbeam
dances on the crisp bedclothes tangled around us. “Go back to sleep,” he
whispers, and we do without saying a word about how our bodies just had the
courage to say something that our mouths aren’t brave enough to do.

Later on when we’ve woken,
showered and dressed I pack my memory box carefully while he watches me
solemnly, occasionally reaching out to nuzzle my cheek with his lips or stroke
my hair. We’re just about to leave the room when I stop him and hand him the
box. He looks at me queryingly. “Is it too heavy love?”

I shake my head. “No. I want you
to look after it for me, the way that you did my violin. That way I know it’s
safe.”

He swallows hard. “You don’t have
to do this baby. I know you’re trying to make me feel better about what
happened, but not like this.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel
better Sid. I’m trying to make
myself
feel better.”

“But how can you trust me with
this after what happened?”

“You mean what happened in the
securely locked hotel room that your psychotic bitch of an ex-girlfriend got
into because her stupid best friend got the key and let her in?” He stares at
me so I continue. “Because from where I’m standing you had nothing to do with
what happened. That’s all on those two. So if you don’t mind, I’d like you to
look after something that’s precious to me because I know it’ll be safe with
you. I trust you with me Sid, so I know that I can trust you with this.”

For a second I’m sure that I see
the sheen of water in his eyes and then he blinks and it’s gone, but he pulls
me to his side and with one hand around my waist he kisses me thoroughly, and
in his kiss I get the thank you that’s he’s sending me.

After this the weeks slide by in
a kaleidoscope of shifting images of countries seen from the windows of the
tour bus, but there’s a big difference and it lies with Sid and I. It’s almost
as if that night freed him in some way because he’s been a different man since.
He still attempts to control everything but he’s easier now, quicker to laugh
and more physically affectionate towards me than he ever was before. He no
longer pulls away every time he’s caring towards me as if correcting himself,
and he’s starting to show a surprisingly sentimental side for such a hard man.

We spend nearly every spare hour
together roaming each new city, stopping only to eat and drink in little out of
the way bars with the boys, and our nights are always spent together. I’m
always in his room now which everyone seems to accept, but he still insists on
booking me a room of my own because he doesn’t want me to ever feel that I
have
to be with him. According to him it’s my choice, although why I’d want to miss
out on sleeping with him I don’t know.

We’ve made love everywhere that I
could possibly think of and some places that would never have occurred to me,
and it gets better every time, maybe because his barriers seem to have come
down around me. He seems to feel a need to touch me all the time, from a simple
guiding, caressing hand on my back as we walk, to outright cuddling, and every
time he does it he seems to get a basic joy from it.

However, it’s at night that I feel
closest to him, when we lie entwined together and I lie awake relishing the
feel of his sleek skin and hard muscles lax in sleep against me and feel his
steady, warm breaths hitting my skin. He tells me that he has always had
trouble sleeping as have I over the last three years, but we sleep easily
together, almost as if all we needed was to finally find a safe harbour with
someone.

He’s also more quietly confident
in himself than he ever has been and his music is flowing again. He fills
exercise books with endless words, and the bus is often filled with music and
curses as the boys plough energy into what is obviously going to be their next
album. I usually sit on the sofa reading on my Kindle while they lie on the
floor like teenagers surrounded by a sea of paper. Occasionally I’ll help out,
usually if the lyrics need something but only if asked, because this isn’t my
band and I’ve told Sid that I’ve no wish to be Linda McCartney in this
scenario. He got the allusion instantly but Bram had been confused, asking how
somebody that made veggie burgers could possibly have anything to do with
music.

As for me I feel alive, almost as
if I have Red Bull in my veins instead of blood. Every moment I spend with him
makes me fall more in love with him. For the first time in my life I feel like
I truly love someone, and every feeling that I had before for other men seems
pale and lacklustre compared to the warm, vital feelings that burn inside me
for him. I love everything about him even his bad moods, and I feel incredibly
protective of this tortured yet inherently good man. I want life to run
smoothly for him now. I want him to smile at life rather than be braced against
it waiting for the next blow that it can deal him.

As such, just as he’s dedicated
the last few weeks to extending my sexual education, I’ve also tried to educate
him in the joys that are to be had around him. I made him get up at dawn to
watch the sunrise over the Vatican and hear the bells ring out for mass, which
he grumbled about and got his own back by fucking me in a tiny, dark side
street near the Piazza di Trevi. I’ve made him watch classic girlie movies
which he inevitably falls asleep during, apart from when he discovered an
unknown fondness for the screwball comedies of the 1940’s, particularly ‘His
Girl Friday’.

However, tonight we’re in more of
a rock star territory, standing in the sumptuous surroundings of a record
company executive’s flat in Copenhagen. We’ve been invited to a party held in
honour of the band, and it’s wall to wall beautiful women who look emaciated
enough to be mostly models. They’re drifting about fluffing their hair, licking
their lips and shooting subtle and not so subtle come hither looks at the boys.
It’s like being in the middle of Robbie Williams’ ‘Rock DJ’ video now that I
come to think of it, and I watch as one particularly stunning blonde slides up
to us pushing her tiny boobs out and staring at Sid. “Hello,” she says in a
sultry Danish accent. “You’re Sid Hudson aren’t you? I love your music.” I’d
bristle more than I do, but I know what’s coming and I can hardly keep my
laughter in as he heaves a reluctant sigh and utters the immortal words.

“I’m too sexy for my hat. Too
sexy for my hat. What do you think about that?”

At her look of utter bemusement I
can’t hold it in any longer and I burst out laughing along with the other boys.
I know it’s rude but let’s face it she just made advances towards a man who has
his arm slung around me, so I’m sure that she can deal with a little social
awkwardness. Ignoring her affronted exit Sid nuzzles my hair affectionately and
tightens his arm under my breasts lightly brushing my nipples, making me gasp
and him chuckle. “How long have we got to keep this shit up for?” he grouses at
Mick. “Half the people here think that we’ve gone mad.”

Mick rubs his hands together
gleefully. “For the whole party Sidney, you know the rules.”

“It’s just the fucking stupid
song. It’s embarrassing.”

“Well if you want someone to
blame for that, look no further than your woman, my son. I merely issued you
the challenge of going through the party only speaking lines from a song, with
the loser being the one that gives the game away. It’s not my fault that Nelly
here picked the cultural classic that is Right Said Fred’s ‘I’m Too Sexy’. I
personally would have picked something with insightful, thoughtful lyrics that
would have made you losers sound intelligent. Something by Coldplay that would
make you sound like you’ve got the cure for world peace while remaining sexy.”
The boys stare at him and he shrugs. “What? I like them. I’m not ashamed of
thinking Chris Martin is a god amongst men.” An extraordinarily beautiful woman
wanders up to us and blatantly rubs her breasts against Bram’s arm and whispers
in his ear. Bram looks imploringly at Mick who shrugs. “Not my rules mate.”

Bram sighs tragically, and then
reluctantly, with a killing glance at Mick, mutters something under his breath.
“I’m sorry,” the woman says. “I didn’t catch what you said.”

Giving in Bram says clearly, “I’m
a model you know what I mean and I do my little turn on the catwalk. Yeah I
shake my little tush on the catwalk.” Unfortunately it falls loudly into one of
those sudden, quiet moments and everyone in the vicinity stares at him until
his cheeks actually redden.

“Wow Bram.” I reach up and touch
one. “You’re red hot sweetheart. Are you coming down with something?”

“No,” he says through clenched
teeth and looks imploringly at Sid to get me under control.

“Are you sure? It’s not your
little problem flaring up again is it?” The beautiful woman is obviously
regretting her move, and when she hears this she utters a huff of disgust and
stalks off followed by a roar of laughter from Charlie.

“You can laugh,” Bram says
crossly. “This is my sexual legacy that you people are tampering with. In years
to come she should have been able to look back on memories of a night with a
sexual beast in his prime.” I laugh and he turns to me. “You’re a fucking
witch,” he adds indignantly but without any real heat. “I’m going to get you
back for that.”

“Bring it on Donkey Kong.” I make
a matrix finger gesture at him.

Sid snorts. “Don’t Keanu him
sweetheart. It makes him uncomfortable because of his little man crush.”

“Keanu is awesome,” Bram argues.
“Have you seen ‘Point Break’? Don’t diss the Reeves. I’m secure enough in my
masculinity to admit that I love him.” Another lamb to the slaughter wanders
over to interrupt this diatribe, but it’s obvious that Bram’s had enough now.
“I concede,” he says quickly to Mick who proceeds to pull his jumper over his
head and wander around singing ‘We are the Champions’.

I watch him, laughing to myself,
and then sigh as Sid twines himself around me like ivy. He’s resting his hands
dangerously close to my nipples again which are now so big they might actually
be able to stand up by themselves and take drink orders if he carries on.

“How long have we got to stay
here?” he asks sulkily.

I laugh. “We’ve not been here an
hour yet.”

“An hour’s too long without
fucking you,” he says in a way too loud voice and I can feel myself blush.

“
Sid
!” I chide.

“What? It’s the truth. They’d all
think the same if they knew how tight and wet your …”

I twist and clap my hand over his
mouth as Charlie roars with laughter, looking at us both with blatant affection.
“You alright there Sergeant Serious? I think your stoical demeanour’s
cracking.”

“Fuck off,” Sid says peaceably to
his brother before burying his head in my neck and grabbing my bum which brings
me into close contact with the impressive beginnings of an erection.

“What has got into you?” I ask
quite shocked.

Charlie’s, “About ten bottles of
Budweiser,” coincides with Sid growling, “It’s what’s getting into you that you
should be bothered about woman,” which makes Charlie laugh even harder.

“Oh my God,” he says. “Hello
stranger. I haven’t seen you like this in forever mate.”

Sid smiles a slightly skewed
smile, his eyes crossing slightly. “Haven’t felt I should before,” he says.
“Now I feel fine though.”

“At the moment,” I interject.
“You won’t tomorrow buddy.”

“Oh you’ll look after me,” he
slurs, cuddling into me and making my heart hurt because it’s so full. “You
always look after me.”

 “I do?” I scratch his scalp
with my nails, making him growl slightly like a big wolf who’s come over for
some affection.

Charlie’s gaze softens as he
looks at his brother. “Good,” he says softly. “That’s good, right mate?”

Sid squints at him but an
involved discussion is obviously beyond him. “Let’s go back to the hotel and
then it’s straight to bed for you young lady,” he commands, taking my hand and
beginning to pull me to the door. I wave goodbye to the boys but the record
company executive heads us off before we get to the door, coming towards us
with his arms outstretched. “No, no thank you.” Sid is obviously alarmed at our
progress being halted, and puts up his hand towards the man. “Thanks for
everything. I’m too sexy for my cat, poor pussy, poor pussy cat.”

Obviously confused the man
pauses, giving Sid the opportunity to whisk us out of the room. My last glance
is of Charlie laughing hysterically while Seth films us on his phone.

We make it back to the hotel
without him having sex with me on the backseat of the taxi, although it’s a
close run thing. I must say an outrageous alter ego escapes when this man is drunk.
Normally he’d rather die than have another man see me, and he’s extremely
possessive to the extent that he punched a man that jumped on stage in Madrid
and tried to kiss me. Tonight however, he quite happily tried to take my
knickers off in a taxi.

We make our way through the
foyer, or to be more precise Sid tows me through it, ignoring all the calls of
his name by groupies seated waiting for the band. Once we’re in the lift though
to my surprise he separates himself from me, leaning against the opposite wall
of the lift. He stares at me for a second rubbing his fingers over his lips
meditatively. All traces of the good humoured drunk are gone. Instead he looks
devilish and just like that the atmosphere charges and I feel the familiar heat
rising between us. The one where a marching band could walk through and we’d
pay them no attention.

We stare at each other for a
second, and then he reaches out and presses a button and the lift grinds to a
stop leaving us in a charged silence broken only by the harsh rasp of our
breathing, and then he lowers his hand and grins. “Take your knickers off,” he
says in a clear, firm voice.

“What?
Here
?”

“You heard me Nell. Take your
knickers off.”

Staring at him for a second I
wait for him to make a joke but he just looks at me expectantly, and feeling
suddenly unbearably turned on I do as he says, wriggling out of them quickly
and throwing them to him when he makes a gimme gesture. Catching them neatly he
looks at me and then deliberately raises them to his face and inhales deeply.
“Fuck!” he groans. “They’re so wet love. I can smell you all over them.” Slowly
he lowers his hand and stares at me, his eyes so dilated now there’s hardly any
blue. “Lift your skirt.” His voice is a guttural rasp and I gulp looking around
the lift anxiously. “There’s no cameras in here Nell,” he says harshly. “Do you
honestly think that I’d take the chance of you ending up on film for some
fucking security guard to wank off to?” His nostrils flare at the thought. “You
belong to me Nell and that sight of you when you’re wet and wanting, well
that’s just for my eyes and I’d kill anyone who saw you like that. Do you
understand me?” I nod slowly and he gestures bossily which would make me smile
if I wasn’t so insanely turned on. “Well? I’m waiting, so let’s see that tight,
little pussy of yours.”

Leaning against the wall and
taunting him with my smirk I slowly raise my skirt, shivering slightly because
his gaze is like a brand on my skin.

“Fuck Nell,” he groans. “Look how
turned on you are sweetheart. You’re dripping down your legs.”

I blush slightly but it’s true. I
can feel the moisture. “Touch me,” I moan, all inhibitions gone now because I
trust him. He’s right and I know that he’d never let anyone see me so
vulnerable.