Read Online Nine Ten Begin Again: A Grasshopper Lawns affair by EJ Lamprey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: EJ Lamprey
Tags: story
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even prepared to lose you to another man to preserve it. Blame your Cleopatra look for breaking that oath, if you like. You did kiss me back. You take part of the blame, eh?’
‘You pushed me away.’ The humiliation had gone, and she was intensely watching the little she could see of his face. He groaned.
‘We were on a street in Edinburgh! It was push you away or take you right there and then.’
‘I wanted you to.’ Her voice shook at the intensity of the memory, despite her determination to lighten the moment, and his hands closed on her arms. He lifted her effortlessly across his lap and she reached for his head, pulling his mouth down to hers as the unfamiliar dizzying rush of passion swept through her again.
. . .
Debrief
‘So?’ William sat heavily on the conservatory sofa and propped his stick near to hand.
‘So?’ she echoed, not meeting his eyes but keeping her voice light. ‘It was interesting. And you were quite right, I needed the collar. It got quite scary.’
He waved that away. ‘Tell me that later. I want to know about the tattoo.’
She felt heat in her cheeks, but forced an expression of mild surprise. ‘I don’t have a tattoo. And no plans to get one. Is that something else they do at your leather clubs?’
‘Ah well, I can see by the very nice colour you have turned that you know exactly what I mean. Did he not tell you the history? There was a time in his life when a very silly woman made a bit of a public display of his life, and suddenly everyone in the theatrical world, male and female, was insisting they’d slept with him. You know he’s a very private man, so you can imagine how he hated that. But there you go. He’s got a hidden tattoo and they were quite obviously guessing and couldn’t identify what it was. I’ll say this for oor Donald, it must be worth seeing. You’re looking very happy. I’m glad.’
Vivian came through from the pub, smiling. ‘I’ve asked them to organize cappuccinos, too cold for drinks. Heavens, no need to ask if you enjoyed the leather club, you look translated.’ She gave Edge a sharp glance as she sank gracefully down into the chair opposite. ‘Was it that much fun?’
‘It was that much fun,’ Edge agreed demurely and looked across at the pub door as it opened yet again. This time it was indeed Donald, glass in hand, crossing the room swiftly to join them. He rested his hand briefly on her bare neck as he greeted the others, and Vivian’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth, shot a quick sideways look at William, who was beaming, and shut it again.
‘Did Edge tell you the club was invaded?’ he asked William. ‘You and your bloody collar and lead. You’re psychic. Or did you send them there?’
‘Hey!’ William protested, laughing. ‘She started to tell me. So there was a real problem?’
‘It could have been.’ Donald sobered. He drank, put his glass down, and sketched the incident in a few sentences. William looked concerned and Vivian was horrified.
‘You’re not going again, I hope?’ she asked and Edge glanced over at Donald.
‘It really isn’t what you think. I would have hated it without Donald, and it must get quite alarming later in the evening, but until they arrived it was fun. I was enjoying myself. You would have, too, although William would probably have found it bit tame. The new group added a whole new angle to it. They were practically naked, wearing crossover straps and buckles and chains—oh, and they had Jemima Bateman with them. Vivian, on a chain! And not like mine, which in a bizarre way was almost a fashion accessory. Hers was. . .’
She paused, searching for words, and Donald put his hand warningly over hers.
‘It’s a convention that you don’t talk about what you’ve seen. What happens at the club, stays at the club. But since we all dislike Jemima very much indeed, and since Edge already let the cat out the bag, yes, Jemima was there.’
‘Skelped bitch mode?’
‘You pushed me away.’ The humiliation had gone, and she was intensely watching the little she could see of his face. He groaned.
‘We were on a street in Edinburgh! It was push you away or take you right there and then.’
‘I wanted you to.’ Her voice shook at the intensity of the memory, despite her determination to lighten the moment, and his hands closed on her arms. He lifted her effortlessly across his lap and she reached for his head, pulling his mouth down to hers as the unfamiliar dizzying rush of passion swept through her again.
. . .
Debrief
‘So?’ William sat heavily on the conservatory sofa and propped his stick near to hand.
‘So?’ she echoed, not meeting his eyes but keeping her voice light. ‘It was interesting. And you were quite right, I needed the collar. It got quite scary.’
He waved that away. ‘Tell me that later. I want to know about the tattoo.’
She felt heat in her cheeks, but forced an expression of mild surprise. ‘I don’t have a tattoo. And no plans to get one. Is that something else they do at your leather clubs?’
‘Ah well, I can see by the very nice colour you have turned that you know exactly what I mean. Did he not tell you the history? There was a time in his life when a very silly woman made a bit of a public display of his life, and suddenly everyone in the theatrical world, male and female, was insisting they’d slept with him. You know he’s a very private man, so you can imagine how he hated that. But there you go. He’s got a hidden tattoo and they were quite obviously guessing and couldn’t identify what it was. I’ll say this for oor Donald, it must be worth seeing. You’re looking very happy. I’m glad.’
Vivian came through from the pub, smiling. ‘I’ve asked them to organize cappuccinos, too cold for drinks. Heavens, no need to ask if you enjoyed the leather club, you look translated.’ She gave Edge a sharp glance as she sank gracefully down into the chair opposite. ‘Was it that much fun?’
‘It was that much fun,’ Edge agreed demurely and looked across at the pub door as it opened yet again. This time it was indeed Donald, glass in hand, crossing the room swiftly to join them. He rested his hand briefly on her bare neck as he greeted the others, and Vivian’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth, shot a quick sideways look at William, who was beaming, and shut it again.
‘Did Edge tell you the club was invaded?’ he asked William. ‘You and your bloody collar and lead. You’re psychic. Or did you send them there?’
‘Hey!’ William protested, laughing. ‘She started to tell me. So there was a real problem?’
‘It could have been.’ Donald sobered. He drank, put his glass down, and sketched the incident in a few sentences. William looked concerned and Vivian was horrified.
‘You’re not going again, I hope?’ she asked and Edge glanced over at Donald.
‘It really isn’t what you think. I would have hated it without Donald, and it must get quite alarming later in the evening, but until they arrived it was fun. I was enjoying myself. You would have, too, although William would probably have found it bit tame. The new group added a whole new angle to it. They were practically naked, wearing crossover straps and buckles and chains—oh, and they had Jemima Bateman with them. Vivian, on a chain! And not like mine, which in a bizarre way was almost a fashion accessory. Hers was. . .’
She paused, searching for words, and Donald put his hand warningly over hers.
‘It’s a convention that you don’t talk about what you’ve seen. What happens at the club, stays at the club. But since we all dislike Jemima very much indeed, and since Edge already let the cat out the bag, yes, Jemima was there.’
‘Skelped bitch mode?’
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