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My hands run up her front, cupping those silky, perfect breasts. She feels like pure satin in my arms and I’m pretty sure I could die happy just holding her like this until my heart stops.
Chapter 36
Lila
After losing ourselves in each other for what feels like hours, tangled in the sheets, our bodies humming with the aftermath of however many orgasms we’ve both had, Marcus and I finally pull ourselves from the warmth of the bed.
With no other food in the cottage other than the leftovers from breakfast, venturing out to stock up on groceries (and extra condoms!) is an unfortunate necessity.
Climbing back into the car brings with it a shadow of the fear that had been completely forgotten about in the heat of the bedroom and the shower this morning. The fact that we hadn’t been followed overnight is comforting, but the underlying fear still lingers in the back of my mind, along with the memory of my ruined apartment.
The town is a fair bit busier than it had been early in the morning. We drive past a church, where a stream of people files out of the front doors towards a gravel car park, the rich swell of organ music filtering in through the car windows. The echoing tone of it brings a smile to my face, stirring a memory from what seems like a lifetime ago.
“What’s up?” Marcus asks, glancing over at me with a soft grin.
“The organ music,” I say, pointing out the window. “Reminded me of going to church when I was little.”
“Do you still go?”
“No. Dad used to take me sometimes when I was younger. But then he stopped. My grandma goes every Sunday, though I only tend to go with her for the big holiday services. But I’ve always loved the sound of the organ.”
We merge onto what appears to be the main road of the town, with shops lining the streets, cars parked along both sides and pedestrians milling about.
Marcus parks the car in an open spot and we climb out, looking around.
The air is thick, glittering as though shimmers of ice hang suspended in mid-air, but the winter sun is bright and there isn’t much wind.
I look at the selection of shops along the village street. There’s an old-school chemist, a book shop, a small boutique clothing shop, a pet shop and a café.
“Coffee?” I suggest.
“Definitely,” Marcus says, taking my hand as we head to the café.
The door closes behind us and I smile, instantly deciding I like this place. It has an all-white decor with white wood floors, white wood tables and chairs and white walls, and it’s beautifully accented with twinkly lights and pastel bunting. My content creator brain kicks into gear, already picturing the ways this place would make a perfect backdrop for dreamy latte shots and seasonal themed promo posts, with pops of pink for Valentine’s Day, brighter pastels for Easter, or even a beach theme in the summer. There’s so much you can dowith white.
Approaching the counter, I scan the chalkboard menu on the back wall as a friendly girl in a black T-shirt and grey cap greets us.
“Hiya,” she chirps. “What can I get for you today?”
“Can I have a black Americano, and a caramel latte with oat milk?” Marcus says, and I smile, my heart doing a happy little skip inside my chest.
“That’ll be £6.50.”
I already had my phone ready in my hand, quickly holding it up to the reader to pay as Marcus reaches into his pocket.
“Thank you,” he says. “You didn’t have to do that. I would have got it.”
“I know, but I feel bad. You’ve already paid for the cottage and the petrol to get up here and everything. Least I can do is buy you a coffee.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I can think of a good few other things you could do,” he says teasingly, and my jaw hits the fucking floor as I turn to look at him. He has the cheekiest bloody smirk on his face that makes me smile so fucking wide, my face physically hurts.
“Here you go,” the girl behind the counter says, handing us two large cups before I can respond, and I can’t help but notice her gaze is fixed firmly on Marcus, her teeth ever so slightly tugging at her lower lip in a smile.
I grin, more than happy to comply with those terms of payment, and cross one leg tightly over the other as we sit down at one of the tables.
I lift the cup to my mouth, but the motion halts mid-air. My fingers go numb, heart seizing as something outside the window catches my eye. Across the street, a black car with tinted windows sits parked – silent and still. I’m almost certain it wasn’t there when we parked a minute ago.
I stare at it for a long moment before shaking my head, telling myself I’m being paranoid. There’s no one in it, and I’m pretty sure it’s a different make of car than the one I’d seen following me before.