Page 14

Afternoon Delight

This was written for my newsletter subscribers and is set a few weeks after the epilogue of Paper Roses .

Artie

I race up the steps to the hotel and push through the revolving door so fast that I startle a lady with a fur coat on the other side. She clutches her chihuahua closer, giving me an icy look before exiting the hotel in a much more civilised manner.

“Sorry,” I say to her back.

I look around for my husband and spot him immediately. He’s leaning against a marble pillar, his head down, checking his phone. He’s wearing his navy pinstriped suit and looks so tanned and handsome that my heart gives its usual happy pit-a-pat. His wedding ring gleams on his finger, and his hair still has the golden streaks from our honeymoon in Italy a month ago.

Italy will forever be a favourite memory. We’d spent most of the first week rolling around in the big bed in our suite, and the only view I’d seen was from our balcony. However, for the second and third weeks, he’d hired a car and taken me all over the Amalfi Coast. We’d explored the beautiful coastline to our heart’s content, and I’d thrilled to see him tanned and so laid-back. He’d been so happy that he glowed, and he hadn’t checked his phone once, which is undoubtedly a miracle that should be noted in the history books. He’d been all mine, and I’d relished every happy, sun-filled minute. I’m already looking to book a skiing holiday at Christmas so I can have him all to myself again.

As if sensing my presence, he looks up, and his usually stern countenance immediately relaxes into a broad smile.

“Hey,” he says, pocketing his phone and sweeping me into a hug as soon as I get close. “Is it mad that I missed you this afternoon?” he asks, laughter rich in his voice.

I relax, feeling his warm body so familiar now. “I missed you too, so I think it’s okay if we’re both a little crazy.”

“Well, I’ve got used to having you all to myself.”

He hugs me again, and I can’t help my immediate recoil. “Ouch!”

He releases me, his eyes wide. “What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?”

“No, of course not,” I say, thinking fast. “I banged into a doorknob earlier, and I think I’ve bruised myself.”

He looks at me quizzically, and I know I’m bright red. I’m not very good at lying, and he’s brilliant at spotting them.

“Are they here yet?” I say in the hope of distracting him.

He blinks, still looking at me with concern. “Who?”

“Carla and Russell, the bride and groom.”

“Oh, them. No, they’re running late.”

I look past him. “Shall we get a drink while we wait? I’m really thirsty.”

He lets himself be towed along, still casting me looks. I don’t know whether scepticism became a part of Jed’s personality when he was a policeman or whether he was just born with loads of it.

We seat ourselves, and after ordering our drinks, I look across at him. “How was the staff meeting?”

“As lively and regrettably noisy as ever. Raff won the planner of the month, and his celebrations were more fucking annoying than a professional footballer’s.” I start to laugh, and he smiles at me. “How was your meeting?”

I’m just about to ask what meeting, and then I catch his slowly rising eyebrow. “Oh, it was fine,” I say immediately. “It was a bit boring, but you know how it is.”

“Not really.” His eyes twinkle. “It’s hard to have an inkling when you’ve been more secretive about it than an MI5 officer.”

“Good grief, I hope not. I still haven’t been able to go near a chip fryer since we watched Spooks .”

He chuckles and then looks up as our bride and groom arrive.

They’re in their twenties, and the word that’s conjured when I see them is “shiny”. They’re always perfectly put together and seem to have a sheen of confidence and glamour.

I stand up, and Carla hugs me, her perfume filling the air. “It’s so lovely to see you, Artie. How was the honeymoon?”

“Absolutely perfect,” I say, smiling over at Jed.

He nods. “Three weeks with Artie all to myself. I was a happy man.” I’m sure I’m glowing from those words and offer him a wry look that makes him chuckle. “But don’t ask about his sunburn.” He winks. “I told him that everyone gets burnt there.”

“Oh my god,” I exclaim.

He breaks into laughter. “Let’s sit down, folks,” he says. “We need to talk about your wedding instead of ours.”

I sit down gingerly, not letting my back come into contact with the chair. Feeling someone watching me, I look up and blanch as I find Jed studying me, his forehead pleated in thought.

“How are you both?” I immediately ask, and Russell’s answer is thankfully long enough to distract my husband. Jed shoots me a look, and I amend my analysis to include the words “for now”.

Jed turns to the couple. “Simon is the hotel staff member we’ll be meeting today. He’s responsible for their wedding bookings. I spoke to him when I got here, and he said he’d be over in a few minutes and show you the room where they hold the wedding ceremonies. I think you’ll like it. It’s small enough to feel intimate and big enough not to look like a broom cupboard.” Carla laughs, and he smiles at her. “Then he’ll take you upstairs to see the wedding suite that’s included in the price.”

“Is it true that you can’t have a cash register in the room where a ceremony is being performed?” Russell asks.

Jed smiles at him. “Yes, which is sad because who doesn’t want to charge their guests for their attendance?”

A slim, dark-haired man approaches us, his face wreathed in smiles.

“Artie, how are you?” he exclaims. “It’s been far too long since I saw you. You look gorgeous as usual.”

I blink at the enthusiastic greeting. I’ll never get used to being addressed like I’m Austin Butler. I’ve worked with Simon a few times this year while planning weddings, and he’s always like this. He stands far too close and always laughs so loudly at my jokes that you’d think I was a professional comedian rather than a shy assistant.

“Oh, fine,” I say, standing up awkwardly and holding out my hand. “How are you, Simon?”

Simon takes my hand and holds on to it a shade too long, smiling at me in his usual rather alarmingly intimate way. “You look very good with a tan. Did you have a nice holiday?”

“Honeymoon,” Jed interjects, sitting back in his chair and shooting Simon a look that is friendly but somehow makes the other man blanch and drop my hand.

“Oh yes. I must have forgotten that.”

Jed clears his throat, and a panicked look crosses Simon’s face.

“And this must be the bride and groom,” Simon says, quickly turning to Carla and Russell.

“It certainly must,” Jed drawls, and I reproachfully shake my head at him. He offers me a wolfish smile and gets to his feet. He towers over Simon.

“Shall we look at the room?” Simon says quickly.

Carla and Russell agree enthusiastically, and Jed winks at me, making me want to laugh. I fall in behind the couple, feeling Jed at my side.

“Was there any need for that behaviour?” I whisper. “You could have swung through the bar yodelling and beating your chest and still been less possessive.”

“I’m saving that for our first anniversary.”

“Isn’t that gift supposed to be paper?”

“You can write me a cheque for the performance.”

I can’t stop my laugh, and I grin at him before we enter the room set aside for wedding ceremonies. I reach into my messenger bag and remove my notebook and pen as Jed starts to discuss the details with Carla and Russell. Even as my pen sweeps across the page, my mind is wandering. This is a beautiful room, but it doesn’t compare to Mal and Cadan’s barn, where Jed and I had our vow renewal ceremony.

That was a wonderful day full of love and laughter. I try to imagine being the centre of attention as Carla will be when she exchanges her vows with Russell and immediately shy away from the thought. The way Jed and I did it was perfect, where no one heard our very intimate promises in our hotel room. Then to celebrate with our friends and family afterwards was the cherry on top. Not for the first time, I wonder how I’ve got so lucky to find a man who understands me so well.

I look up and find Jed watching me as the others talk. His eyes are bright and full of so much love that I blink. Then Carla says something, and he turns to reply to her, breaking the moment but leaving that warmth behind like a banked fire.

After half an hour, the meeting ends, and I slide my pen and pad back into my bag. Everyone else uses their phones for notes, but there’s something about physically writing things down that makes them stay in my brain.

“Okay,” Simon says. “Let’s go up to the suite. You can have a look around and see if it suits you. If not, a couple of our feature rooms are available for you to look at too. Are you coming, Artie?”

I shake my head immediately. “I don’t think so. This is for Carla and Russell. We’ll wait downstairs for you,” I say to the couple. “We’ll be in the bar. Jed?”

My husband jerks as if his mind is far away. “Oh yes. We’ll see you in the bar.”

My eyes narrow. What was he thinking about? It’s not like him to be distracted. He’s usually laser-focused during meetings.

Carla and Russell depart with Simon, and I move next to Jed. He throws his arm over my shoulder, and I smile up at him. “Shall we get some lunch before we go back to the office? I’m starving .”

“Of course.”

Ever the gentleman, he motions me forward and puts a hand on my lower back. It’s as though he has to touch me, and his hand always falls there. It’s also where he touches me when we’re making love. Unfortunately, rather than move into his touch like I usually do, I give a yelp of pain and flinch away.

“What the fuck ?” Jed breathes. “What was that about?”

“Nothing.”

His eyes are frantic, and he hovers next to me, his hands fluttering as if he doesn’t know where to put them. “Artie?” His gaze firms, and his eyes flare with a dangerous gleam. “Has someone hurt you?”

“ No . Oh my god.”

“Would you tell me if someone had?”

I stare at him. “Of course I would.” The simple honesty in my voice seems to settle him, but he’s still looking at me and expecting answers. I sigh. “Come on.”

“Come on, where?” He dogs my footsteps as I leave the room. I take a left and end up outside a single bathroom on a quiet corridor. “Artie?”

After opening the door, I pull him in, ignoring his startled huff. I shut the door behind him and then lock it and lean against it. “I did something.”

He folds his arms. “What?”

“You can’t be mad.”

“When am I ever mad with you?”

I think about this for a moment. “Okay. I’m hoping you won’t be put off. Oh my god,” I breathe. “What if you’re repulsed?”

“By you ?” His tone is incredulous, and when I nod, he scoffs. “Not in this lifetime.”

I brighten at the certainty in his voice and then remove my messenger bag and suit jacket.

He takes them obediently when I hand them to him and then watches me unbutton my shirt. “Erm, what is happening at the moment?” he asks mildly. I finish unbuttoning it and throw it to him. He catches it neatly and adds it to his little clothes pile. A smile is starting to play on his full lips. “I just want you to know that I like you best of all without clothes. Please make a note of that.”

“I’d write it in my notepad, but my hands are busy at the moment.”

“I’m noticing that.” He watches me unbuckle my belt. “Well, I certainly didn’t expect this when I arrived here today,” he says in a chatty voice. I unzip my trousers. “Should we be doing this by the sink?”

I laugh and then hesitate. “Okay, I’m going to show you something.”

“Well, that’s good. I thought maybe you’d just been seized with the impulse to strip naked.” He holds up his hand. “Please don’t ever back away from that urge.”

“Dream on.” I hesitate and then turn around, leaning my hands against the door and arching my back.

There’s a startled silence. “Have you hurt yourself? What’s this patch on your back?”

“Look closer.”

I hear him suck in his breath. “ Artie .”

I look over my shoulder. “Do you like it?”

I already know the answer. His eyes are heated, and even as I watch him, he dumps my clothes onto the counter and lowers his hands gently to my sides. I push my arse out even more, knowing that he’s looking at the tattoo on my lower back. It’s just above my arse, and it’s a small watercolour-style image of a red rose.

“Artie,” he says again, tracing the skin around it gently, careful not to touch it under the clear plastic patch. I smile at his absorbed expression.

He looks up, and our gazes meet and hold. In his eyes is a flame of heat that I can feel echo in me. My cock stiffens.

“Did it hurt?” he asks hoarsely.

“A bit. Certainly, more than stubbing my toe,” I say in a spirit of honesty. “Was it worth it?”

He blinks. “Are you seriously asking me that question?” I nod. “Well, it’s the hottest and yet sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“ Sweet ?” I say in disgust.

He smiles. “That’s you. My sweet and hot husband.”

“I prefer hot.”

“Good because you’re hotter than the surface of the sun, darling.”

I laugh and suck in a breath as he lowers himself to his knees behind me. “What are you doing?” I ask, looking over my shoulder at him.

“I’m examining this tattoo at close range. I like it.”

“It’s not as good as your paper roses, but it’s my rose for you.”

He kisses my back above the tattoo so gently it’s like a hummingbird skimming my skin. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I’m looking forward to seeing this without the wrapping. When can it come off?”

“When we get home.”

His eyes are heavy-lidded and full of unmistakable intent. “Take your cock out and turn around.”

My gulp is loud in the quiet room. “Here?” I clarify, and he nods. “But it’s a place where we work.”

“So? I’m on my lunch break. Turn around.”

I do as he asks, gasping at the feel of my hand on my dick, which is already hard and throbbing. Then I spin around so quickly that I nearly trip. He steadies me with gentle hands, and I groan loudly as he licks the sticky head of my cock.

He reaches into his suit jacket and produces his pocket square. “Put that in your mouth. We need to be able to come here again.”

I hold back a moan of delight and push it into my mouth.

He stares up at me. “Fucking hell. There’s never a minute when I don’t want you,” he whispers. I know he can see how much that thrills me because he offers me a wry smile and then takes my cock in his hand. His grip is perfect — firm and forceful, yet still gentle — and I arch into his hand, moaning low in my throat.

“Careful of your back,” he instructs, and I blink in confusion. “Don’t let it rub against the door.” I nod enthusiastically, and then my whole body arches towards him as he licks the tip of my cock and then sucks on it, his cheeks hollowing. My eyes slide shut at the pleasure that roars through me.

He pauses to tap my hip, and I force my eyes open. It takes effort.

“Watch me,” he orders, and I nod.

He immediately takes me down his throat in one smooth movement and then pauses. Our gazes holding, he swallows, and my hand flies out, hitting the counter with a dull thump before I grab hold and brace myself.

Jed pulls back, licking down the length and nuzzling into the skin at the root. “You smell so good,” he says in a guttural voice and licks over my balls.

I give a garbled cry, and he comes back up to the root, cupping my balls in his hand and sucking the soft skin. “I don’t have time to play. Carla and Russell will be back soon,” he warns, and I nod. If he touches me once more, I’ll come. I can already feel the orgasm buzzing in my spine. He traces the veins with his tongue, collecting the moisture dripping from the head before pulling me back into his mouth and sucking hard.

We watch each other as he sucks, bobbing his head up and down. Spittle leaks from the corners of his mouth, and his eyes are heavy-lidded and full of heat. He takes my hands and places them on his head in silent instruction, and I slide my fingers through the thick, silky strands before cupping his skull and pulling him down on my cock.

His moan vibrates along my length, and I fist my hands. I know I’m pulling his hair, but I’m equally sure he loves it. He lifts his finger and inserts it into his mouth alongside my cock, getting his finger wet. Then he pulls it out, and I groan as he traces it over my crack before sliding it around my hole. I’m sweating heavily now, my skin feeling like I’ve been in the sun, and the scent of precome is sharp.

He inserts his finger, wriggling the tip in, and sucks harder. Suddenly, I’m there. I arch into him, my hands tightening on his head, and he grunts as I give a cry that’s stifled by my gag. I come down his throat in scalding jets, and when I’ve finished, I slump against the counter, breathing heavily. I pull away the gag, grimacing at its soggy state. I offer it to him as he climbs to his feet, and he shakes his head.

“It’s yours. A present.”

“Thank you so much. It’s the nicest thing ever .”

He laughs, and the sound is low and merry in the quiet room. His dick is tenting his trousers, making my mouth water, and I reach for him only to blink when he stays my hand.

“We don’t have time.”

I grimace and then brighten. “I’ll do you when we get home, then.”

“Such romance and poetry. It’s like living in a Mills and Boon book.” I pinch him, watching him laugh. He winks at me. “Anyway, we’re going to have to be careful about sex for a few days.”

“Why?”

He taps my nose. “Because you can’t lie on your back in case it rubs at the tattoo. You also can’t get any fluids on it.”

“I didn’t think of that,” I say in dismay. “But I love being on my back with your weight on me. And my lower back is your favourite part of my body to come on.”

He groans. “Artie, have some pity. My hard-on was only just going down.” He steps close and kisses me. His lips are swollen, and the kiss is gentle. “The tattoo was worth it,” he assures me. “And necessity is the mother of invention.”

“Wasn’t Plato the origin of that proverb?”

“Probably. He wasn’t talking about such an important matter as our sex life, though.” He slaps my thigh gently. “Going to get dressed today, my little exhibitionist?” I grab my messenger bag, pull out a leather pouch, and hand him a toothbrush and toothpaste. “What else have you got in there, Mary Poppins?”

“You don’t have the security clearance to find out.” I nod at the toothbrush. “Don’t breathe spunk fumes at our clients.”

“How extraordinarily erotic is our life together.”

I grin and scramble into my clothes as he cleans his teeth.

He hands me the toothbrush, and after I put it in my bag, I examine our reflections. Other than Jed’s swollen lips, we look neat and professional. He winks at me and then clicks the lock to open the door. “Ready?” he asks, holding out his arm.

I slide mine through his. “Always.”

When Carla and Russell come down, we’re sitting in the bar going through our diaries, looking as demure as if Jed hadn’t just blown me in a bathroom.

“Alright?” Jed asks.

Carla nods. “The bridal suite is lovely, but we saw all the other rooms too.”

“Are you staying for a spot of lunch, Artie?” Simon enquires, coming up next to me and standing far too close. He looks over my shoulder in Jed’s direction and blanches before moving back.

I turn my head, but Jed is just staring innocently back at me. I raise my eyebrows. I can tell Simon to back off, and Jed knows it. I don’t need him beating his chest, but that slight flare of jealousy covered in his usual calmness is still secretly thrilling.

I turn back to Simon. “Yes, Jed and I are off to lunch. Thank you so much for your help. You were brilliant as always.”

He nods, pulling his suit jacket closed and buttoning it. “See you soon, then.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Jed calls after Simon’s back, and I watch as the other man picks up speed.

We follow Carla and Russell towards the door as they chatter about the wedding. After exchanging hugs, we watch them leave the hotel. I go to follow them and stop when Jed takes my hand.

“Okay?” I ask. He nods, and I blink as he tugs me towards the reception desk rather than the door. “What are you doing? Did you forget something?”

“Nope.” He winks at me. “I’m going to book a room.”

“You’re going to what ?”

“I’ve decided we should have some us time, so I’m booking a room because it’s going to be naked us time.”

“But it’s two in the afternoon.” The fact that I sound so scandalised is incredible after everything we’ve done together.

He chuckles. “That leaves me the whole afternoon and evening to really examine that tattoo, my love. I’m going to be very thorough, and I simply can’t do that at the office.”

I swallow hard as we arrive at the desk. “I’m not sure why,” I whisper. “You managed to examine my bottom very intently yesterday in your office.”

“What can I say? You’re my favourite subject.”

He grins at me, and it’s such a wicked and warm smile that I feel my heart flutter.

The receptionist turns to us, and I stand back as Jed quickly deals with the room booking.

“Shall I get someone to take your luggage?” she asks.

Jed smiles at her. “Thank you, but there’s no need. We don’t have any.”

She blinks but then blandly continues checking us in while I try not to blush.

When she’s finished scanning his credit card, Jed takes the key card she hands him and steers me towards the lifts.

“This is a very expensive interlude,” I observe.

He laughs as he kisses my cheek. “I’m pretty sure you’re worth it.”

“I’m not sure how we can put it on expenses.”

“I invite you to get creative, darling.”

I look around, wondering if everyone can tell we’re heading off for a spot of afternoon delight. The thought is surprisingly thrilling, and I stand a little straighter.

“I think we should make a habit of this,” Jed says, his hand gentle on my back, taking care not to touch my tattoo.

“Playing hooky from work?”

He shrugs. “You can say that. I call it making time for each other because you’re the most important person in my world.”

“How do you always say the right thing?”

“It’s my superpower. I combine it with not putting my shoes away so you don’t get too complacent.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

The lift’s doors open, and laughing, he follows me in. I lean against him, looking at our reflections in the lift’s mirrored wall. I nestle my head into his neck, feeling him drop a tender kiss on my hair. We look like we belong together. I smile, seeing the happiness in the face of my reflection. That’s because we do.