Summer's Edge Read online

  "Good, now Biology and Chemistry are over."

  He drove them into the town to a restaurant that was stylish without being the kind of stiff and formal place that her parents’ friends went to. It was relatively new and she hadn't been there before.

  As they walked from the car he had his hand against her back. "Not quite as accommodating as your other dress, but you look beautiful," he told her.

  "It got kind of ripped," she said.

  "I'm sorry." He hadn't wanted to remind her of her ordeal at the party.

  "So you liked it then?" She hadn't been sure that he'd even noticed it. He had been pretty much the only guy there who hadn't tried groping her back at some point during the evening.

  "You could say that." He cast her a glance and she saw the glint of desire in his eyes. "Your tennis gear wasn't bad either."

  Alice went scarlet. "Oh god, you did see. I wasn't really thinking." She didn't want him to think she had been hanging off the tree on purpose to flash her underwear.

  "It gave me plenty to think about."

  They were given a prime table by the window which surprised Alice until she realised, after looking around, that they actually did look glamorous together. He was wearing a jacket perfectly tailored to his flawless physique and the dress she had chosen, while less suggestive than her backless one, was still both sexy and stylish. Most other diners were less fashionable or more casual.

  While they were waiting for their orders to arrive, she asked him when he had finally decided he wanted to see her. "I thought at the party you were really angry with me."

  "When I saw that idiot with his hands all over you I was so furious I wanted to knock his block off," he told her. "That's when I knew. It felt like he was mauling my girl."

  "You did knock him out though, didn't you?"

  "Not that piece of scum. I mean the Worcester idiot, hanging off you all the time."

  He meant Joe. So he had been really bothered by it. She felt both a little bit guilty and a little bit glad. "I tried to tell you there was nothing going on," she said.

  "From his side there was plenty going on."

  "But I wasn't interested in him. I wanted to be with you," Alice told him.

  "Yes and I'm sorry for being such a blockhead," he said. "Those guys, they're all your age. I felt like the old guy at the party."

  "You're hardly that."

  "I am older than you, Alice, significantly older. We can't just dismiss it."

  "Well it doesn't matter for now, does it? It didn't seem to make a difference to you the other night."

  They looked at one another and she knew he was remembering what had happened, just as she was. She also wanted a repeat performance tonight. Right now, in fact, but they had to get through the meal first.

  But it was still too early to go home once the meal was finished. Going for a drink was risky due to the amount of Fairmount pupils whom they might bump into. Eventually he suggested the cinema which inevitably led to them seeing Basic Instinct, as nothing else worth seeing was on.

  "You don’t mind having seen it already?" he asked.

  "No, it’s the kind of film you want to watch twice, to see the clues you missed the first time round," she said.

  It was even better the second time even though Alice knew who the killer was. She was slightly embarrassed watching some of the sex scenes with him next to her, not knowing what he might think of them. Or of her, for watching them twice. Maybe it would be more ladylike - more feminine - to be shocked at them like Becky was.

  Outside the cinema he put his arm around her as they walked back to his car. She was blissfully happy.

  "Not a bad sort, Sharon Stone," he said.

  Alice had been picking up on how both he and Chris tended to understate things. It must be an Australian thing. If something was "average" they really meant it was absolutely terrible. To describe someone as "not bad" meant they were amazing.

  "She is very beautiful," Alice agreed. "What about the other actress?"

  "Not my type. I prefer blondes," he said, ruffling her own blonde hair. "Though she wasn’t bad in that one scene."

  They both knew the scene he was referring to.

  "Yes that was pretty hot," Alice said. She looked him directly in the eye as she said this. Take the hint, she thought. She’d been fantasising about it for long enough.

  "So you liked that did you?"

  Alice felt her stomach flip with anticipation. He understood. After all, he had been pretty rough with her in the pavilion that first time and she had still responded to him. He couldn’t have forgotten that.

  The car was parked by a wall and before he unlocked it he turned to her and pushed her up against the brickwork. He kissed her, hard, pinning her against it. She felt the stone, cold and hard, behind her back. She could feel how hard he was through his jeans.

  "You’re coming back to my place," he told her.

  They hadn’t actually discussed whether she was staying over with him or not, but she wasn’t about to refuse. They both wanted one thing right now.

  He drove as swiftly as he could safely get them back to his place. Neither of them spoke on the journey back. Alice was nervous but couldn't wait to get there. After all, she had wanted this. Now she would find out if it lived up to the idea of it.

  He led her upstairs and closed the door behind them. Immediately taking her in his arms he kissed her passionately for a few moments, not too roughly or enough to make her lips bleed but enough that she knew the strength of his desire.

  His fingers grasped her zip and dragged it down roughly, letting her dress slither to the floor. Unfastening the clip of her bra, he let his knuckles brush against the side of her breasts. She gasped as he ran his hands over her nipples and down to her stomach, pulling her against him. Her body tingled at the feeling of his hands, warm and firm.

  Then wordlessly he turned her round and bent her over the edge of the sofa, pushing down over it, just as in the film. His fingers trailed the lace edge of her underwear, then he hooked them inside and ripped them away. Her last defence was gone. She was at his mercy. Alice barely noticed the discomfort of the position as she was so turned on. She was almost embarrassed by how wet she could feel herself getting.

  She straightened slightly on instinct to reduce her exposure. But he pushed her back down and gripped her hips, angling them so he had access to her. Her stomach was pressed against the hard padding of the fabric; with his superior strength and weight he was fully in control.

  Then he thrust into her in one long, hard, unyielding movement.

  She was ready for him but it still hurt, it was so fast and deep. She gasped but he didn't relent.

  It felt like he was filling her, stretching her with every stroke. He was hitting the end of her inside which was a bit uncomfortable and she tried arching her back to reduce the depth. But he pressed back down on her, getting the angle he wanted, making it as deep and forceful as possible. She could hear his breathing, ragged, above her.

  She liked it but she knew that it was about his need, his desire for her. She was bent to his will. That made her want it too, that he could want her so much. It turned her on in a strange way that she could be needed by him with this intensity: he had to have release and it had to be with her, like this, no refusal and no escape.

  He reached round and slid one hand between the side of the sofa and her front. His fingers found her clitoris and pressed against it. Each time he drove into her it rubbed her against him even though he was pushing her so tightly from behind that he could barely move his hand.

  This was enough to turn any discomfort she had felt into sheer pleasure. Suddenly she wanted him as deep as possible, even deeper. Hotter. Harder.

  She was grinding back against him, meeting his thrusts. Her legs felt weak and she wasn't sure she could even have stood if he wasn't pinning her up with each movement.

  They were both glistening and wet with sweat, out of breath.

  He said her name and sw
ore under his breath as he came, managing to bring her over with him at the same time. He was pumping into her and she cried out as the shockwaves went through her body. His orgasm seemed to last for ages. He was still thrusting after hers faded down to a heavy warmth that flushed all through her body. She felt absolutely filled and replete.

  He collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted, pulling her over the side and onto him.

  For a while he was unable to speak.

  Eventually he asked her, "so you liked that?"

  "Yes." She now felt shy. "Did you?"

  "Christ Alice, what do you reckon?" He was still out of breath. "I don't think there's many blokes who would pass up the chance to throw a girl like you over and have their way."

  She was partly flattered that he found her so hot but at the same time anxious that she was just a girl. As though there were any number that he would want to do this with. A thought of his ex-wife came into her mind. She'd been given the impression by Chris that she was some kind of model. How could she, just a schoolgirl, match up?

  He sensed her mood change. "You ok?"

  "Fine, just..." she struggled to find the right word that wouldn't reveal her insecurities. "Overwhelmed."

  "You're not the only one." He stroked her face. "You'll stay with me tonight?"

  That he had to ask her, that she saw tenderness in his eyes and even doubt of her own intentions, made everything all right again. It was her he wanted. At least she hoped it was.

  "Yes, if you want me to."

  "Want you to? I'd have you here every night if I could."

  Now she felt ecstatic and went to kiss him. They made out for a while, still hot and sticky from one another and soon he was getting strongly aroused again.

  This time he sat her on top of him, facing him, so she was in the position of most control. This way she could choose the pace and the depth, tease him. Which she did mercilessly. Drawing off him and resisting when he tried to plunge inside her again. Writhing her hips around.

  She could push her hands in his hair, kiss his face, his neck, his chest. She loved the smell and the feel and the taste of him. She loved him.

  22. In the dark

  He made her a coffee and they showered together and then lay in his bed, awake. Alice was in his arms and it felt like the best place in the world. She was drowned in his warmth, his clean skin, the fresh trace of shower gel, his own male scent mingling with it.

  "One week to go then?" he said.

  For a moment she panicked, thinking he meant with them. Then she realised he meant school. "Yes, it's weird."

  "No more detentions."

  She thought of the pavilion. "We should christen the pavilion right after my final exam." Her last Economics exam was on Thursday. Less than a week from now.

  He laughed. "I could still get fired. But what the hell."

  "Will we still have to be discreet then? Even after I'm finished with school?"

  "So long as you don't drop by to watch the cricket in your tennis skirt again, we'll be good."

  Alice imagined meeting him after he'd finished coaching and blatantly going off with him in front of everyone, finally beyond reach of school rules. Imagining the look on Mr Francis's face was a very pleasant fantasy.

  "I've been in more trouble this term than in the past five years," she said.

  "You normally behave?"

  "We normally don't get caught."

  "Your dad wasn't too angry with you about the festival?" he asked.

  Alice remembered Richard's surprising revelation. "No. Actually he's my stepfather, but he's great. My dad died before I was born," she explained. "Richard - my stepdad - ended up showing me some old photos of when he was a hippy. You wouldn't believe it to look at him, he's so straight and old fashioned."

  "And your mum?"

  Visions of an outraged Hilary Bowes floated into Alice's mind. "She was mainly worried that I was ok. And what the neighbours would think. They're pretty cool though, both of them."

  "It must be hard though, not knowing your father," he said.

  "Not really. It's like I don't know what I've missed. Sometimes I feel more sad for him than me. I know that probably doesn't make sense, but it was always just Mum and me. I can't imagine it any other way." She twisted round so she was looking at him. "But what about you? I don't know anything about you."

  "What do you want to know?"

  What she wanted to know was about his ex-wife and how it had happened and whether he still harboured any feelings for her. But she wasn't ready to ask that yet. She hoped he would tell her anyway. "How long have you known Chris?" she asked.

  "Since primary school. We grew up together, played cricket together. Always had one another's backs. He was my best man."

  The mention of "best man" gave Alice a horrible feeling. But it also presented the opportunity to ask him about his marriage.

  "So what happened? Your divorce I mean. If you don't mind me asking," she said quickly.

  "I don't mind at all. I was an idiot ever getting hitched, far too young. Chris even tried to talk me out of it on my buck's night. She wasn't the worst woman in the world or anything but it was all wrong. She wanted glamour, a different kind of life."

  Alice wanted to know if he'd ever really loved her - Bree - but she obviously couldn't ask this. "How old were you?"

  "Twenty-two. Just been capped, that probably had a lot to do with it. Went to my head. She made a beeline. The marriage was over for years before we finally signed the divorce papers."

  All this made Alice feel a lot better. Her fears that he was pining for some beautiful Australian model who had dumped him and broken his heart could abate.

  She liked lying there with him in the dark. It was still with no noises of people anywhere, just the occasional sound of a car on the street outside and the light from its headlights briefly illuminating the far wall. It was strangely powerful, the intimacy created by two people. The two of them against the rest of the world building something that was uniquely theirs.

  "What about your family?" she asked.

  "My father's an engineer. My mother’s a legal secretary, part-time now. I’ve got one younger sister who's a lawyer. You?"

  She considered her family. They were on a similar level to his, she thought.

  "My mother doesn't work any more. She did do various things, but since having my younger brothers she hasn't. Richard does something scientific I think but I'm not sure exactly what." She explained that Richard worked at GCHQ, a government intelligence agency. "So it's all classified and no one's really supposed to know what anyone does there. I expect my mother knows though."

  "And no divorces for you then?" He was joking.

  "Not yet."

  "I hope there won't be any for you. Divorces that is, not marriage."

  Alice suddenly wondered what it would be like to be married to him. It was a strange, exciting and suffocating feeling imagining a day far in the future when he might want that. To own her and make her his, have her lie with every night, be with her always.

  She didn't want to get married for years and years. But right now she also wanted to be with him for years and years. She couldn't imagine being this happy with anyone else.

  She gave herself a mental kick for letting her thoughts wander in such a foolish way. After all she had only known him barely a month or so. It was amazing how much had happened in the past few weeks though. It felt like more change than she had ever known.

  * * *

  He woke her the next morning by kissing her. "How long have you been awake?" she asked. "What time is it?"

  "Still early. But having you next to me is too distracting to go to sleep again." He ran his fingers over her body, tracing its contours. She guessed he was already hard.

  "Are you going to wake me up properly then?"

  Without needing further encouragement he moved over her and was soon inside her again. She adored everything he did to her and loved how much he wanted her, all the time. It was l
ike a new power. It was the fact that despite all his reservations and all his attempts to turn her down, she had still won him over.

  Against his better judgement he still couldn’t resist her. And it was only getting better the more time they spent together.

  Really when she thought about it she had barely known him at the start, when it was just sheer sexual attraction. But the way the other guys respected him, including Chris, people’s good opinion of him, his obvious concern for her on several occasions, all this had made it so much more. Even if she didn’t know everything about him yet. What his favourite book was, what music he liked, what other things he was into. But these were minor details compared his intelligence, his humour and his charisma.

  And of course his incredible looks and body which happily she now had unrestricted access to.

  What did he see in her though? She had never thought of herself as the kind of girl that guys went for. Becky and Jules were always encouraging her and even her mother said she had blossomed but Alice still felt quite ordinary within herself.

  Her lack of experience also worried her. From his responses she figured she was doing some of the right things in bed but she didn’t actually know. She was too embarrassed to ask him directly. Then there was her lack of life experience, her lack of knowledge about the world compared to his. He had lived, worked, travelled. He was educated. He knew things. She feared she must seem insubstantial to him.

  "Where can we get breakfast out?" he asked her.

  "We never go out for breakfast so I don’t honestly know. There’s a greasy spoon café in the high street that’s open early in the mornings but it’s pretty downmarket."

  "We’ll find somewhere. The weather’s too good to stay indoors."

  It was a beautiful morning. She was glad that he wanted to spend it with her and not send her straight home.

  Then as she was in the shower she remembered her lack of clothes. Wearing her dress at this time of day would be so obviously night-before. It would be like doing the walk of shame.

  His shirts were so big on her they wouldn’t be much improvement, it would be clear that she was wearing his clothes. But it was better than nothing.