Page 57 of Suddenly Beck

My balls are aching from how many times Beck made me come last night, and it’s left me feeling unbelievably sated and unbearably smug. Although we stopped just short of him actually fucking me, it’s left me thoroughly satisfied. By unspoken agreement, I didn’t stay the whole night, but instead returned to the B&B in the small hours. It was kind of sweet actually. Beck walked me home, holding my hand in the moonlight along the empty streets, and when he left me on the doorstep, he’d given me the sweetest kiss, a delicious dichotomy to the carnal things his mouth had done to me only hours earlier.

But I think both of us unconsciously know we need some kind of boundaries. This thing between us is already beyond intense, like a flash fire it’s going to burn hot and fast, and I’m just hoping we emerge the other side with our friendship still intact.

Pouring myself an orange juice, I turn to face the almost empty dining room. There’s a couple of guests from Newcastle tucked away in the corner looking at a leaflet for the Eden project and a family of four with two small children just getting up to leave with their beach bags and towels. But what catches my eye is Ms Molly sitting by herself at a table in front of the huge bay window. She’s staring out onto the street, and there’s something in her eyes that tugs at me as she sips daintily from a china teacup. Instead of ducking and hiding, as I have done previously, I march across the room and set my plate down on the table beside her.

‘Good morning, Ms Molly.’ I smile pleasantly. ‘Do you mind if I join you?’

She blinks for a moment as if surprised and sets her teacup down in the saucer with a tiny rattle.

‘Of course.’ She smiles in delight as she smooths down her dress.

‘You look lovely today,’ I tell her as I slide onto the chair and pick up my cutlery.

‘Well, thank you, Mr Elliott, that’s very kind of you to say.’ She beams as she fluffs up her hair.

She does look pretty in her pale flowery sundress and signature kitten heels. I’ll say this for her, for someone who’s supposed to be a sex maniac, she dresses like she’s off to a luncheon at the tennis club.

‘Call me Nat,’ I tell her as I slice my bacon. ‘You say Mr Elliott and I look behind me for my father.’

‘Nat.’ She smiles coyly, fluttering her eyes lashes at me. ‘You look good enough to eat.’

I laugh easily. ‘I hate to break it to you, Ms Molly, but I’m pretty certain I like dick as much as you seem to.’

I watch as she stares at me for a moment, blinking slowly before tilting her head back and laughing like a musketeer. It’s an honest and heartfelt humor that warms my stomach. I don’t think I’ve heard her laugh like that before.

‘I thought as much.’ She wipes a tear from her eye as she continues to chuckle to herself. ‘Let me guess.’ She fixes me with a warm gaze, ‘Beck Ainsley? I wouldn’t be surprised, that boy is far too good looking for his own good.’

I know I’m blushing as I lift the fork to my mouth and begin to eat.

‘I’ve seen him around here a few times since you came to stay.’ She winks, and her expression has completely changed. Gone is the sly innuendo and intense focus, instead her expression is relaxed and warm, and somehow softer. A slow suspicion begins to dawn as I watch her.

‘Why do I get the feeling you’re not the voracious man-eater everyone thinks you are?’

She grins and winks at me cheekily, and I laugh loudly.

‘Why do you do it?’ I ask curiously. ‘You must know you have quite the reputation around here.’

‘Why?’ She smiles wickedly. ‘Because it drives Bea nuts, and at my age there’s precious little entertainment around here. When the highlight of your day is watching The Chase, it’s time to make your own amusements.’ She leans closer, whispering conspiratorially, ‘I tell you what, Nat, these shoes are killing my feet. I have a lovely pair of purple crocs I wear when she’s not around.’

I find myself chuckling in honest delight at the thought of Ms Molly sneaking around the house in a pair of crocs.

‘And the bell on reception?’ I ask referring to the monstrosity on the front desk that plays a gruelling and tinny rendition of Ode to Joy, which Ms Molly insisted her daughter keep.

‘I can’t stand it.’ Molly giggles. ‘I love my daughter, but lord the woman has a stick up her arse. She needs to learn to lighten up and not take everything so seriously.’

I shake my head, smiling as I pick up my glass and sip my orange juice.

‘You get to a certain age, Nat.’ She shakes her head as she picks up the teapot and pours herself another cup. ‘And people either ignore you or treat you like a slightly slow two-year old. They seem to just want you to sit in a corner knitting something and not overly burden them with the pleasure of your company.’ She stirs the sugar into her tea, setting the spoon down gently as she lifts the cup to her lips and sips. ‘Every now and again, I like to remind them I’m not dead yet.’

I chew my mouthful contemplatively as I study her, and I know that first impressions aren’t always correct. I’m living proof of that, but I can’t help but feel I’ve sorely misjudged Ms Molly. Underneath the polished, attractive older woman’s brashness and outrageous commentary she’s lonely. I cast my mind back over the couple of weeks I’ve been here, and I can’t remember seeing her leave the house.

‘You don’t get out much, do you?’ I ask softly as I lay my cutlery neatly on my empty plate.

She shrugs elegantly. ‘I know my daughter and granddaughter love me, but they are embarrassed being out with me. It’s my own fault I suppose. What started out as a joke ended up with me becoming the joke, but still.’ She smiles quietly. ‘It’s better than being stuck in an old peoples home waiting to die.’

I wipe my mouth and toss the napkin down on my plate. ‘Oh my god.’ I pat my flat belly. ‘I need to walk this breakfast off.’

‘It certainly is a lovely day for it, especially after the rain yesterday.’ Ms Molly smiles softly. ‘I always feel like everything looks bright and shiny after the rain, like it’s been washed clean.’