The Boleyn Effect (The Boorman Ending) Page 5

'I'd like to say that it's new, but unfortunately I remember them the first time round. Fergal Sharkey, the lot,' he smiles. 'I don't suppose you know who that is.'

  'Of course I do,' I say. 'I'm a sucker for 80's pop and hair rock.'

  He laughs and its sound fills me with warmth.

  'So, do you freelance, or work for someone?' he asks.

  'I rent a space,' I answer. 'I do mainly portraits etc.'

  'And that's the dream?'

  I place my bottle down and swallow. Such probing questions for a guy who I barely know, but I feel compelled to answer him and I have no idea why.

  'I'd rather have my own place and make money from doing gallery shows. You know enough to not to worry about the rent.'

  'Well, I've not seen you're work, but I'm sure you've got a great eye.'

  This is it. I have an opportunity and I'm about to grasp it with two hands. I just hope he's going to take the bait. I need to know for certain how interested he is.

  'It's not far from here. It’d be great to get some opinions. Monty is more than welcome.'

  Harry's eyes widen a little and I see a little sparkle there that causes me to inwardly smile. He knows it's a challenge and he is debating whether to take me up on it. I know there's some interest. The leaning closer when I speak. The unbroken eye contact. The subtle glances to where my cleavage can be seen from my shirt. This guy is a player and I am about challenge him to a brand new game.

  My back hits the door as his mouth swamps mine. The unspoken signals that bristled between us as we made our way to the studio were undeniable. I was surprised we made it this far, before giving in. There is only so much small talk one can give before enough is enough.

  Now in the alleyway where my door entrance stands, I'm pressed back into the plastic with Harry's body holding me in place. I can feel his erection throb near my hip and provocatively I push myself against him. A moan escaping against my mouth as his tongue leaves mine.

  Breathlessly, he pulls away and looks down at me with his blue eyes hidden in the shadows. Running my tongue over my lips I can still taste the Bitter he's just drunk. Groaning, he leans in to kiss me again, but I turn my back on him with a smile and ram the key into the Yale lock.

  'I thought you wanted to see my work?' I question huskily, opening the door.

  'I do,' he breathes.

  He closes the door behind us and in the dark narrow foyer he pulls me back against him so his back is against the door and my back is against him. Monty has been left to wander as his master is kept busy.

  Harry's hands are soon beneath my shirt as he thumbs my erect nipples through my bra and they harden further. I moan out loudly as he teases and pulls. He has no qualms about boundaries and I wonder if he knows enough about body language to know how I want this. Pushing into the bra cup he takes my full aching breast into his hand and continues to tease with his thumb.

  Everywhere aches and my legs are already beginning to shake. I find I'm frantically trying to maintain some equilibrium, but again I find myself on the back foot. It's as though he know exactly what buttons to press in order to get to me. I need to get him to want me more. I am the one who's in control here not him.

  Pushing my arse further against his hardness, I gyrate against him causing him to pull my face back to his and kiss me harder. His tongue darts in and out of my mouth, toying with my own in swift soft strokes.

  I don't ever remember being kissed like this and I have kissed plenty. It's so hot and giving. I know it sounds odd, but he kisses me for my pleasure rather than trying to swallow me whole with an over consuming mouth.

  'God, Leigh, you're so...I want you...let me have you,' he murmurs as his mouth travels down my neck.

  'Yes,' I gasp.

  With one hand remaining at a breast the other travels downward and popping my button he delves into my panties and enters me with his fingers. I buck against him as he pushes deep.

  Like his tongue, his fingers move gently, but focused. He's prolonging the pleasure. I hate to admit that he's already this good and it's just foreplay. The man may be older, but he knows what he's doing and how to work those fingers. I'm not honestly expecting to feel so aroused by his touch, but I am. He's letting me know if this is what he can do with his fingers than imagine what he can do with his cock.

  But it can't get that far. Not yet and I'm about to start the next stage of game before my body gives in and allows him and me some satisfaction. But it's proving so hard and I don't want him to stop, not when I'm so damn close. Maybe I could...no! I have to.

  'Stop!' I gasp out loud. 'Please stop.'

  I grab his wrist and force his hand from inside me pulling away. Hot and flustered he looks at me confused and a little wounded.

  'I'm sorry,' I offer. 'I didn't mean to lead you on...'

  'Then why did you?' he asks a little sharply.

  'Because I really like you and we seem to have something, but it wasn't long ago that I met your wife. I'm just not good on being the bit on the side.'

  His eyes soften slightly and he runs his fingers through his blond curls. I have to hold myself steady, because this could go one or two ways and I'm taking a gamble that he'll play the way I am predicting.

  'Shit, yes, you're right. Of course you're right. I didn't mean...it's just there is something between us. I felt it the first time we met, but I would never expect you to be a bit on the side. I respect you too much for that.'

  'You don't know me enough to respect me,' I say.

  'I know enough,' he whispers.

  I inwardly breathe out and I lick my drying puffed up lips. His eye catches mine and there it is. That spark once more and he takes a step forward, but with a shake of my head I step back.

  'I'm sorry,' I whisper demurely.

  He nods and then calling the dog he says his goodbyes and leaves. Waiting for a moment I reach into my pocket and dial George's number.

  CHAPTER TEN

  'How many text messages has he sent you?' George asks.

  'About twenty or thirty,' I answer.

  'And how many have you answered?'

  'None.'

  'Good girl.'

  It's been three days since Harry and I were making out in my studio foyer and since I've been bombarded by apologetic text messages begging forgiveness. Begging to see me again to explain, but all he's had is silence. If I'm honest, it's been just as exhausting ignoring them. The temptation just to send him something is strong and in the end I've resorted to keeping it on silent so I don't hear it chime.

  Then there's the guilt of betraying Katherine. I'd promised myself that I wasn't going to get sucked into this façade and after a few hours in Harry's company I've dropped myself well and truly in it. George sits smugly in the same studio questioning me while I set up a shot of some new-fangled hair products.

  The theme is gothic and so my display table resembles something out of a vampire movie with black and red silks all over and a few dried roses for added affect. Lucky for us, Clair is out doing the sandwich run and so we are able to talk alone.

  'I still can't believe that you went ahead and did it,' George smiles.

  'Well he was there and I thought why not seize the opportunity,' I answer.

  'So what's he like?'

  I turn away from where I've been fiddling with the silks towards George. There's smile on his face, but his eyes seemed to have darkened. Jealousy maybe? No, he wanted this to happen, but then maybe he didn't expect it to.

  He'd been majorly pissed that it had not been instigated by him. It's George's game, so he thinks he must control it, but I prefer to seize the day and I well and truly seized something when I was with Harry.

  'You know, not bad for an older guy,' I answer diplomatically.

  I turn away and back to my set and I can hear George almost sighing with relief. I don't want to admit that after our illicit canoodling I had no choice but too cool myself down.

  The orgasm I had given myself after had been the most intense ever and it
left me wondering what it would have been like if Harry had given me it. It had taken so much effort for me to say stop and that I would be more than happy for it to happen again. I know George enough that some details he doesn't want to hear.

  'Well he must have something, because he's never short of admirers.'

  I check my lighting ignoring him for a moment. I can already tell he is about to sulk. It is like dealing with a small child sometimes. The doorbell ringing through the studio breaks the rising mood.

  'It's Clair,' I say. 'She'll have locked herself out.'

  George gets to his feet and disappears. A moment later he shouts my name. Moaning, I leave what I'm doing and go toward the door and then gasp out in surprise. George turns to look at me and there's a dark look in his eyes.

  'Something for Miss Boorman,' he sneers.

  The courier looks at us both through the three dozen red roses with just a single white tied up with ribbon.

  'Who're they from?' I ask without offering to take them.

  'There's a card,' the courier mumbles.

  George reaches up and grabs the card reading...

  'I'm sorry. I want to be friends. Yours H x.'

  'Yours? I thought you just fooled around?' George asks stiffly.

  I flush with embarrassment, not really wanting this conversation in front of a courier.

  'Yeah we did. It wasn't worth this,' I say waving a hand towards the flowers.

  'Well clearly it was.' George looks at me and places the card back into the film.

  'What do you want me to do?' I ask.

  I know what to do, but if I ask George for direction it may steer him away from the mood he's descending into.

  'Remember what she did in the beginning,' he says.

  Nodding I understand. I'd read and reread all the accounts until my head hurts. Anne Boleyn was showered with jewels by Henry and every time she sent them back to him unopened.

  'Take them back,' I say.

  The courier looks as though he's going to drop the roses.

  'Excuse me?' he says.

  'Take them back. I don't want them.'

  'I can't just take 'em back to the shop, can't you just take 'em and bin 'em?' he stutters.

  'Don't take them back to the shop. Send them back to the person who ordered them,' I say firmly.

  The courier looks at us both like we were mad and then shrugging he stalks away, just as Clair arrives back.

  'Whoa, what's all that about?'

  George and I glance at each other. 'Wrong address,' we both lie together.

  She gives us a puzzled frown before disappearing into the studio. George and I look at each other.

  'This is going to get messy,' I whisper.

  'Only if you don't keep your head. Don't try and do this yourself. Allow me to take control.'

  This is how it was going to start. I am handing myself over to my best friend and I hope that he's going to keep me safe and sane.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It's the crack of dawn when I arrive at work and I find Harry waiting for me. The previous night, me and Clair had decided to stage an attack on the town and after midnight I was left with no other choice, but to escort a worse for wear Clair home and stay with her. For me it had been one of those nights where no matter what I drunk nothing touched the sides, but now in the clear light of day I’m grateful for the clear head.

  Stepping out of his car, he walks towards me with more flowers. I sigh, because I've already sent back five bouquets. Always three dozen red roses with a single white one in the centre. I have no idea why, but admittedly they are beautiful and it's taken my all not to accept them. He must have spent a fortune only for me to throw them back at him and these are just apologetic gifts.

  What would he be like with a mistress? But then would such gifts be more fitting for the long suffering wife rather than me? I take a breath and try and keep myself focused.

  'What can I do for you?' I ask.

  There's the start of a flashy smile and just like that it is gone like I've stomped on all of his toys.

  'Why did you return all the flowers?'

  'Because I have done nothing to deserve them,' I answer.

  'That's beside the point. I want you to have them,' he pushes.

  'These are the sort of flowers you should be buying your wife, not some girl who you had a quick fumble with.'

  'You are not some girl and I...'

  'That's exactly what I am. You don't even know me,' I interrupt.

  'Please will you accept these?'

  'No, I can't.'

  'But why?'

  'You know why Harry,' I answer. 'I hate to state the obvious, but you are a married man.'

  I unlock my door and disarm the alarm. He follows close behind and his smell makes my body tingle. It's a smell of spiced body wash mixed with a musky body spray. The memory of being pulled back against the door moistens me and I quickly try to focus on something else. I can't let this sexual attraction rule me. Because that's what's happening here. Sexual attraction and its coming from both ways.

  'Kat and I... It's not a good marriage. We are like business partners,' he says.

  He's still holding the roses and I'm so tempted to take them from him, but I can't and what he's just said causes my heart sink heavily. The good ole line of my wife and I don't have a good marriage. He really is no different to everyone else.

  'I'm not stupid Harry, you say you wanna be friends, but then you lie to me. Friends don't lie.'

  'I didn't...' he starts.

  'Ok, just tell me one thing and tell me the truth and then maybe I’ll accept those roses.'

  He nods at me, but I can see he's nervous and that gives me the upper hand.

  'When was the last time you made love to your wife?'

  He pales at my question as he starts to look away from me. I see that the question has stumped him. I don't think he expected me to ask that one.

  'You really want the truth?' he asks.

  'Yes.'

  'It was the night of the event,' he admits.

  So he had sex with her the same night we both met. That was near on three weeks ago. I'd put any money down that they still have sex regularly, purely because Katherine seems intent on keeping him interested otherwise she wouldn't be planning the pictures she is. A wife doesn't do that if their sex life is dead.

  'Then why do you screw around? I just don't get it. She’s stunning?'

  He lowers himself onto a chair and places the roses on the desk. I maybe shouldn't play this card too soon, but part of me, the woman part of me wants to understand why his raven haired beauty is not enough.

  'You really know how to punch a man when he's down,' he sighs. 'I don't know the answers. You're right, she is everything anyone could want, but we just don't really connect anymore. It's always about work and money. We just don't talk about the little things. I miss that spark and that's what I chase after. The thrill of having sex with something new and fresh.'

  'Is that what I am? Something new to have sex with?' I ask.

  'No you're something else entirely.'

  I am something else entirely? I have no idea what that even means, but the way my body reacts to that sentence tells me that I affect him in a good way. Looking down at him, he looks so vulnerable and boyish and it just makes me warm everywhere. I take the flowers from the desk and kiss him lightly on the cheek.

  'That's all I wanted.'

  'So are we friends?' he asks.

  'Yes, but that's all we can be. I'm not prepared to be just a piece of arse and I don't like sharing,' I smirk.

  Harry gets to his feet and the confident smile tells me he's back. I make him nervous in a good way. I can tell.

  'I would never expect you to be and I don't like sharing either.'

  The glint in his eyes makes me shiver and it causes me to look away and go towards my diary, just for something to do. It's already there, lingering between us. Electric and dangerous. Both challenging the other, but not one w
illing to take the bait. Not yet anyway.

  'What's with the white rose in the centre?' I ask.

  He looks down at the bouquet and smiles.

  'It's a little cheesy and I doubt you'll appreciate the sentiment.'

  'Try me,' I smile.

  'You know that you are not the first, but out them all you stand out like a pure white rose.'

  I can't help it but my heart does a double flip. Really? I ask myself. You react to that? I think I need to have a word.

  'Yeah you're right it is, but I do,' I say.

  He laughs as he starts to move away from me as he eyes up the prints I have on my wall and I allow myself to start breathing. He really does know how to turn on the charm. I wonder if he was born with the ability or it's a practiced thing.

  'Are these yours?' he asks.

  'Yes, what do you think?'

  'I like them. I'm not usually a big fan of scenes, but these are good.'

  Standing beside him, I can't help but warm at the praise. At his side we are barely touching. His hand so close to mine that all I need is move my fingers and there would be contact. He must feel it also, because he's breathing has changed.

  'Maybe I could sell you one?' I manage to say.

  He turns towards me and moves into my space. I already know I'm going to have to pull every resource I have to keep him at a distance. The sexual pull he's got is so damn strong, no wonder they all fall at his feet, but I am stronger than that and I must resist. That way, he'll want me more if I decide to commit to this game. The door slamming shut makes us jump apart and Clair's voice echoes through the room.

  'Sorry I'm late. You could have woke me when you were leaving. I've brought us some Costas.'

  She steps into the room and raises her eyebrows at the both of us looking a little flustered.

  'A new client?' she asks.

  'Maybe,' Harry smiles. 'I was just admiring the...work. Maybe I could call you and talk some more about what I want? Maybe seal the deal?' he asks me.

  Of course I've caught the double entendre in that sentence and I can't help the smirk that forms on my lips. He knows it too as he raises his eyebrows at me expectedly.