* * *
‘Mmm—wake up, sleepyhead.’
Smiling, Deborah teased her fingers along the inside of Mark’s naked thigh, her mouth curving sensuously as she bent her head to nuzzle the warm flesh of his throat. The fine silkiness of her hair caught against his overnight stubble and she shivered in anticipatory appreciation of how it would feel when he licked her nipples while that slightly rough abrasiveness of his bearded skin moved deliciously against the sensitivity of hers. And it was not just her breasts that would be extra-specially sensitive to that abrasion.
‘Mark…’
She had reached the top of his thigh, one fingertip lazily exploring the thicker, stronger hair that grew there.
‘I know you’re awake,’ she told him, nibbling at his earlobe.
She moved deliberately against him, pressing her breasts against his chest. Her nipples were hard, the flesh surrounding them acutely sensitive. She knew that if Mark were to slide his hand between her thighs he would find her body already wet and waiting for him.
‘Mark.’ She was kissing her way towards his mouth, enjoying her body’s arousal and desire, already anticipating the moment when she would feel him inside her. Luxuriously she moved against him, laughing as she turned her mouth towards his.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, not now…’
Irritably Mark pushed her away and sat up in bed, reaching for the duvet, which had fallen away from his body, covering himself with it as he shrugged off her hand.
‘Mark!’ she protested.
‘Look, leave it, will you? I’m just not in the mood. For Christ’s sake, Deborah. What is it with you? I mean, I’m all for women taking the initiative now and again, but you… Hasn’t anyone ever told you that sometimes it’s more polite to wait to be asked?’
Deborah stared at him, anger taking the place of her earlier desire. This wasn’t the first time recently that he had refused to make love. And he had certainly never said anything to her before about not wanting her to make the first move. Far from it.
And to speak to her like that! He was making her feel like a… like a…
Silently she got out of bed and went to shower and get dressed.
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ Mark apologised half an hour later. ‘I know I went a bit over the top, but——’
‘A bit?’ she interrupted him angrily. ‘Mark… you could have said something before… you could…’
‘Like what? Once you get going it’s like trying to stop an express train.’
Deborah poured them both a cup of coffee and then she asked him quietly, ‘Mark, what did you mean when you said that I ought to wait to be asked? We’ve always both agreed that women have as much right to express their sexuality as men.’
‘Yes, but think about it the other way… I’m not…’ He shook his head and changed tack.
‘Something’s happened to us lately, Deb. I’m not sure what it is, but we’re just not the same people that we were. You always used to be sensitive… so aware… Think about it for yourself. God, twelve months ago we wouldn’t have even needed to be having this conversation.’
‘No, we wouldn’t,’ Deborah agreed bitterly. ‘Twelve months ago you’d have been only too glad to wake up and find me…’
‘That’s not what I meant, for Christ’s sake, but it does underline everything I’m trying to say. Twelve months ago you’d have known that I just wasn’t in the mood… Now…’ He gave a bitter shrug. ‘Now all that seems important is what you want, how you feel… You want sex and so I have to provide it whether I feel like it or not… I’m not bloody Ryan, Deborah… I can’t fuck to order.
‘Look,’ he said abruptly, ‘why don’t we get right away from here? Make a fresh start… go back to London even…?’
Deborah put down her own coffee-cup.
‘You want me to give up my job… now, when——’
‘There you go again,’ Mark accused. ‘Your job… What I want is for us to get back to where we used to be. For us——’
‘For me to take a step down to accommodate your ego. That’s what you really want,’ Deborah asserted, her voice dangerously low. ‘This isn’t about sex… about us at all, is it, Mark? It’s about the fact that you just can’t cope with…’
She shook her head, not able to bring herself even now to say the words. ‘What are you trying to do, Mark? Control me by refusing me sex, punish me because I’m successful and you’re not? Well, you’ve certainly succeeded,’ she told him quietly. ‘Not because you won’t have sex with me any more, though… after all, I can always get sex somewhere else, can’t I?’
She saw from his face that she had hit a nerve, but it didn’t really bring her any satisfaction. Outwardly she knew she seemed calm and unmoved by what was happening, but inwardly she felt sick with despair and disbelief. Inwardly she felt as though her heart, her emotions were being ripped into a thousand agonising shards of sharp, tight pain.