Teach Me Dirty

“But she died… because of a drunk… and I made you… I made you drive…”

“Yes, she did. But I drove slowly, and carefully, and we were lucky. I weighed up the options and took a calculated risk.”

I nodded, and I was sniffly.

“Sometimes that’s all we can do, Helen. Weigh up our options and take a calculated risk. Don’t you think?”

I shrugged like a stupid kid. “I guess.”

“You guess?” He was smiling, a sad smile, a resigned smile as though he’d lived a thousand years. Maybe that’s what I did to him. Maybe being around someone as young and as stupid as me made him feel old. “I was hoping for a little more than I guess, since I’m about to take another one.”

Something fluttered, in my belly, something small and nice. “Another one?”

“Another calculated risk.” He moved, placing a hand beside me on the sofa, and my body moved for his, clearing a space as he filled it. He reached out a hand for me, and I shivered as his thumb brushed my lip. He trailed his fingers down my neck, brushing my hair to the side. “So help me, God,” he mumbled, and I don’t think it was for me.

His mouth pressed to mine, and his arms pulled me close, and it was really real. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and I kissed him back. I kissed him back as my heart stuttered and my soul came alive again. His tongue was needy, and his breath was ragged, and he was alive, too. I could feel him straining to keep the lid on a boiling pot, but it was bubbling and clattering and slipping. It was already toppling, and the pot boiled over.

I dared to reach for his tie. Dared to loosen it, and he didn’t fight me.

He slipped his jacket from my shoulders, and my skin wasn’t cold anymore. His fingers tickled, dancing over my skin, and he sucked at my bottom lip, breathed into my mouth, and I wanted him, I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.

He broke away and I moaned. “Please, no,” I said. “Please don’t stop.”

I fumbled at his buttons, desperate to see him, but he stilled my fingers, took my hands in his. My stomach lurched until I realised he was smiling.

“Relax,” he said. He kissed my knuckles and guided my hand away. “Stand up,” he said. “Please. Stand for me. I want to see you in your gown.” I got to my feet and he took the throw from me, and I was standing for him, just me, in my pretty dress, barefoot and nervous as he looked me up and down. “Turn around.”

I turned slowly, taking slow breaths, keeping my eyes on him over my shoulder until he moved forwards. His hands were warm against my back, tracing a path up my spine as he rose to his feet. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pinning my back to his chest, and he brushed my hair to the side, sweeping it clear of my shoulders. And then there was his mouth, his lips… his warm breath on my ear as my skin came alive. I couldn’t stop moaning as he kissed me there, my neck was so tender. Everything tickled and fluttered, and the heat of him was so beautiful, so right. He wrapped my hair around his fingers, and angled me where he wanted me, exploring my skin until I wriggled against him. He nipped at my shoulder, nipped all the way up my throat, and I could feel him smiling, smiling before his tongue found its way in my ear.

“Oh…” I hissed. “Oh, God…”

“Relax,” he breathed, and there was more, his fingers slipping around to cup my breasts, squeezing me through the fabric, and I was so glad Lizzie had convinced me not to wear a bra.

He kissed me forever. He kissed me until my legs were shaking and it wasn’t from the cold, until my stomach was knotted and I could feel my pulse between my thighs. He kissed me until I was moaning for more, until I was liquid nothingness and the fire was burning me up.

He kissed me like he loved me.

He kissed me like I was everything.

And then he stopped.

And I stumbled, I stumbled and dithered and laughed as he pulled the fabric of my dress up over my head. He turned me to face him, and he looked at me, he looked at all of me.

“You’re so beautiful.” He ran his thumbs across my nipples and the sparks that flew through me were amazing. “I hope you believe me.” His palms slid down my waist, fingers hooking inside my knickers. “You’re a beautiful, talented, vivacious young woman, Helen. More beautiful than ever because you have no idea how beautiful you really are.”