She laughed into the phone. ‘Oh, Steve, you really are so silly!’ She drew her finger over the windowsill. ‘No. I haven’t asked him...well, he’s been busy.’ She twirled her hair. ‘There’s no need to treat me...Free membership? God, Steve, I haven’t been to a gym in ages...!’
I retreated into the lounge not bearing to hear more. Nice? I didn’t feel it. My mouth had gone dry, my throat ached. And then I identified that gut-twisting sensation over countless weeks: jealousy. I wanted to snatch that phone from her hand with that smug look of mine and lock all the doors. I wanted to ban any man from ever speaking to her. But such actions were against principle. All I had was a private prison that permitted no air, no space. We ate supper. I detained her with questions about the nursery, retaining a small smile.
‘I’m sorry about the other day,’ she said suddenly as I cleared the table.
‘Hmm?’ I proceeded to load the dishwasher.
‘You know, about calling you nice.’
My smile had amassed a ton. ‘Oh. I’d forgotten about that.’
The kitchen fell silent. I pushed the racking inside and sensed her leave the kitchen. I stepped into the lounge to find her looking out of the window. ‘Not going out?’ I asked.
She seemed distracted. ‘No. Not tonight.’ She drew her arms around her midriff as though cold. I wanted to gather her to me but couldn’t move. She’d left her phone on the armchair with Cordell’s infernal text message in full view. My lips knitted, astonished she could be so indiscreet. Did she not care?
‘Durante?’ her voice came softly.
Diffidence overtook her. ‘Can I ask you to do something for me?’
In the half-light, her green eyes had become glass. At that moment I would have said yes for her. I would have died inside but at least she would be happy. I slowly approached and stopped in front. ‘What is it, Kate?’
She curled her lip into her mouth and rested her palm on my shirt. ‘Would you...?’
‘What is it?’
‘Would you carry me to bed?’
Words suspended in my throat, my eyes without a blink.
‘God, how ridiculous that must sound.’ She snorted on seeing my expression. ‘What must you think?’
‘I’m not laughing at you.’ My tone emerged firm.
She flushed with a slow blink. ‘It’s just something I’ve always wanted someone to do and never had the nerve to ask...I feel so embarrassed. How can anyone carry a full-grown woman up the stairs?’
Before she had finished speaking, I scooped the backs of her knees into the crook of my elbow and pulled her towards me. She gasped. My face flushed as she ensnared my neck within her arms, denying me a view of Cordell’s text. It seemed she really hadn’t cared after all. I made a heavy stagger for the door, my mouth landing clumsily upon hers. Lily-of-the-valley laced with musk brought my head abuzz. I had been her first, her very first to grant her this wish. Had her laughter at male jokes been a form of female preservation? Had she opted to humour an in-law to keep good relations?
Perhaps there had never been a need to lock those doors.
The walls pitched as my ankles scuffed the risers. The boards squeaked. She slid her shoes off with a clunk. My face grew hotter with every step. At the top, I kicked the bedroom door open. And as I placed her on the bed, I felt like this time would be our very first. I curled my hands about her waist and she rolled on top. I gazed up with that smug look of mine. Her expression remained obscured. ‘I have a confession,’ she uttered. ‘I’m not sorry for calling you nice.’
Her remark bewildered me. ‘Oh?’
‘Nice is my little secret.’ She stroked my hair. ‘Nice is potent, silent.’
I smiled up at her. ‘I don’t think you realise just how nice I can be.’
‘But you have a special kind of nice, Durante. It puts me on edge.’
I beamed at the notion I could get to her like that. Did I make her toes curl? To blush? My chest swelled with a need to say the three corny words that had got stuck inside my throat for so long. ‘Kate, I have something important I want to tell you...’
Soft silk landed upon my face – her neckerchief, cool and lightly scented. My voice broke off, stunned. Without delay she snagged my upper lip in her mouth. Her hot breath permeated the fabric and showered my face. My jaw clenched at her timing. How impertinent. My hands should have released her at that moment, to pull her scarf away. But somehow they didn’t want to. Instead, I held her tightly. How inappropriate, how thoroughly un-nice of her. And yet my tongue-tip prodded the fabric and bunched beneath the tension. She snuggled my tongue within her mouth where the silk forbade deep exploration. A sick desire pushed my pulse into overdrive. I remained perfectly still as she withdrew. The moment became two and then three. She gave a nervous cough before sliding the silk from my face. She seemed to fear what she would find. Perhaps my gaze had been too stern.
The gift of her exclusive self had brought with it a little fetish I hadn’t banked on. I was now the exclusive recipient of her impolite gift, whether I wanted it or not. Had she waited eighteen months for the right moment? Had she waited her entire life for the right person? She lightly brushed her lips against mine, seeking my forgiveness for spoiling what could have been a perfectly romantic moment. I couldn’t hold out. I submitted with a slow exhalation and a closing of eyes. All jealousy fell away. I didn’t have to make her laugh. She would remain polite to male advances whilst wearing her silk neckerchief with my kiss-print. Nice had earned me her impoliteness. No one else but me. Her gift stung, almost as an insult, but it felt good. It felt mine and I would ensure it would remain that way.
Author’s thrillers
The Shuttered Room
Little do they know their captive holds a deadly secret.
Jess is taken hostage and incarcerated in an upstairs room by three thugs demanding a huge ransom from her rich father.
In a bid to escape, she cuts a hole in the bedroom floor with a cutlery knife. From there, Jess observes the three of them going about their everyday business.
That’s when she starts playing games with them. That’s when her spying pulls her into a treacherous psychological game with her abductors.
If only they knew what their captive was up to. What would they do to her?
Nora
Her harsh brand of rehab hides a bitter secret.
Nancy is hurled into the world of celebrity when she finds herself performing a shoot for handsome but odious playboy, Vince, as they walk from one of his nightclubs.
The seduction of this other world sours after Nancy overhears Vince make a bet about her with his PA, Leon.
Her world falls apart after Vince’s limo crashes, killing Leon and propelling Nancy into a nightmare world where her alter ego Nora is born.
Vince’s playboy lifestyle is about to be turned upside down. Hers will never be the same.
Falling Awake
Insomnia can have the most sinister causes.
Gemma is left destitute after her husband mysteriously disappears, leaving only a sinister doodle as a clue to why.
Desperate to save her home, Gemma takes up a commission performing erotic routines for insomniac voyeur, Luke across the courtyard.
As the lenders encroach closer to snatching her house away, Gemma finds herself obligated to her voyeur. However, her suspicions on the real cause of Luke’s insomnia cause her to question his motives.
As she uncovers the ugly truth surrounding her husband’s disappearance, Gemma’s paranoia surrounding Luke takes its grip. Is he what he appears?
A Hard Lesson
A teacher takes on the pupil from hell only to learn what treachery means.
Sarah thought she was teaching a schoolchild a little English.
How wrong she was.
Not only is her subject a thug, he is dyslexic and member of a criminal gang headed by a psychopath.
And this psychopath doesn’t like people interfering with his business.
Soon, she will learn t
he meaning of treachery.
And fear.
An affecting tale about shame, blackmail and lies.
Author’s Websites
Writers’ Remedies blog.
Charles Jay Harwood site
Novel Writing Site
All About Writing Screenplays
All rights reserved ISBN: 9781310257889
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