Page 7

Chapter Seven

I had a fitful night, tossing and turning, and when I woke way before my alarm, I felt disorientated. I couldn’t remember what I’d dreamt about, which frustrated me. Years before, when I’d had counselling, I often had night terrors and was encouraged to write them down. It was a way of discharging the image. But when I woke anxious without knowing what I’d dreamt, those took a while to get over.

I made a tea and took it in to Grandma. We had a nice routine in the morning. I’d wake her. She’d drink her tea and then I’d wash her, put her in some clothes and help her into her chair. She’d watch the television while I changed her bed or made it if it was clean. I then made her porridge. It was the only thing she’d eat in the morning, and about the right consistency for her to swallow.

Monica came and I told her about Tim. I assured her I still needed her, and she wasn’t losing her job. She’d become so fond of Grandma herself.

“When I’m working, I’ll be able to pay for more hours,” I said.

She smiled and accepted the cup of tea I offered. “I can’t do full time, Ruby.”

“I know, but whatever you can do would be amazing. We can work Tim around your hours. I trust you, and Grandma trusts you. This other bloke has been thrust on me.”

I told her all about the evening, excluding the club.

“Well, I think it’s a good thing, to be honest. You know you’ll never cope with working and caring for Grandma, and you can’t pass up this opportunity. I’d be furious with you if you did.” Her stern tone of voice was coupled with a smile.

“I’m not going to. I need this. I need you, and Tim. And I’m not too proud to refuse Sebastian’s handout.” I laughed and sipped my tea.

There had been a time I’d been way too proud to ask for help. It was only when I was at breaking point, Mr. Trent had intervened and got the school counsellor on my side. She had been the one to organise help and called in social services for me. Then had the real fight started. I had to scrap for every sliver of help I discovered I was entitled to. It was arduous and demoralising. So when a gift horse came my way, I snatched it with both hands, too exhausted to fight anymore.

Grandma called out, not for me, but for a random name. Sometimes, I’d ask her who the person was, and she’d tell me about them as if they existed in real life. It was lovely to see her animated and smiling. Other times she’d tell me they were trying to kill her, and she’d be distressed and lash out. I’d gone to college with a black eye once when she’d struck out and I’d tripped as I stepped out of the way.

I sighed. Monica smiled and went to attend to her.

I picked up the contract that was still sitting on the kitchen table. I wrote, dental plan on it, and laughed.

Later that day, after I’d attended a couple of lectures, although more to say goodbye to my teachers, I went through my wardrobe. I couldn’t afford new clothes and had become a dab hand at sewing up tears and repurposing items. I’d even altered and redesigned some of Grandma’s clothes. She had a trunk in the loft, full of outfits I imagined she would have worn in the forties and fifties. Occasionally, I’d rifle through and sell off some to retro stores. I decided to do that. I climbed into the loft and grabbed a handful of items. There was a retro store nearby that would take all I’d let them have. Why I didn’t take the entire trunk, I wasn’t sure. It didn’t feel so disloyal, I guessed, if I only took a few items at a time. Next to the retro shop was a charity shop and I hoped I might be able to find some trousers and perhaps some footwear in there.

I called out to Monica that I’d be back in an hour and left the house.

“Oh, these are lovely, Ruby,” Darcy said. She held up dress after dress. “You know this one’s Chanel, don’t you?”

I nodded. Grandma had a lot of designer items, especially handbags.

“I’m going to keep this one for myself. Let me price them all up for you.”

Darcy offered me fifty pounds for the Chanel even though I knew it would be worth more, and another one hundred pounds for the rest. I took the money. She wasn’t trying to rip me off, it was what she could afford, and I didn’t have the time nor inclination to sell it myself. I headed next door.

I loved to rifle through charity shops. I’d found many a bargain before. In fact, I was sure most of what we had in the house had come from one charity or another.

I held up a pair of black trousers, new and still with the tag. I then found a rather nice blue shirt. It was a man’s but small and I was sure it would look good with the trousers. I found a pair of flat black shoes, only slightly scuffed, a largeish tote that would do for carrying my lunch to work, and a dress. I only owned one dress. I had, in the past, I’d had loads. But since being on my own with Grandma, clothes hadn’t been a priority. I was super excited, however, to find a beautiful red coat.

It was woollen and military style, with a slight flare at the bottom. I tried it on. It was slightly on the large side, but that didn’t matter. I did the gold buttons up and then the belt. I looked at myself in the mirror. It was flattering, for sure. It highlighted my waist. I’d always been slim and that was simply from not having a ton of food to eat. I wasn’t ever hungry, though. I guess I’d learned to ignore the grumble in my stomach.

I stuffed my purchases in a creased old plastic carrier bag and headed back home. I sighed as I rounded the corner and saw the now familiar black car. As I walked towards it, Sebastian stepped out.

“People are going to talk,” I said.

“Let them.”

“I’ve been clothes shopping,” I said, holding the bag aloft.

He frowned. “Where?”

“The charity shop. Where do you think? Don’t get money for designer from the government, you know. ”

“Yes, I do know. I lived on it myself.”

He had briefly told me about his childhood, but not in any great detail.

I came up to him. “So, what do you want?” I asked.

He raised his eyebrows at me. “That’s a polite greeting, considering I’m just about to authorise a total redecoration of your house.”

“Then let me rephrase. Hello, Mr. Landlord, oh Gracious One. I bow down in full appreciation of you doing what the law says he should.” I bowed theatrically, but then slipped. I landed on my knees and reached out to grab his trousers for support.

He looked down at me. I looked up at him while I knelt at his feet.

He smirked.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I slipped. Help me up,” I said, scrambling on his clothes for assistance.

“Oh, I don’t know. I kinda like you at my feet,” he replied, but he did reach down so I could take his hands.

“I’m sure you do, but it won’t happen again.”

“Want to put a wager on that?”

I looked sharply at him.

“Fifty pounds,” I said.

“You sell yourself way too cheap. Five thousand pounds.”

“You’re on,” I said, shaking his hand. I knew I’d never have to pay. He laughed. “Coffee?”

He followed me into the house, and I emptied my bag on the kitchen table. While I made coffee, he held up each item.

“I love the coat, but the rest is shit,” he said.

“It might be shit to you, but it will do me until I get paid and then I can get some nicer clothes,” I said. I refrained from reminding him what it was like not to have any money.

“I’m going to take you shopping. Come on,” he said.

“Err, no you’re not. I’ve been, that’s it. I want a drink, and I’m hungry. And Grandma needs her lunch sorting.”

I could have reeled off any number of things, and I knew it would make no difference whatsoever. As soon as he pulled out his phone, I was done for. I tried to snatch it from him, but he held it aloft, and I was too short to grab it.

Monica came into the kitchen. “What’s going on?” she asked, laughing.

“He’s trying to call someone, and I don’t want him to. I don’t want to go shopping.”

Monica laughed more and looked at Sebastian. “You really think you’re going to get her to do a clothes shop?”

“See, I told you. I don’t do shopping,” I added, pouting.

Sebastian made a call. “Tim is sending someone. Thank you, Monica, for the heads up, but she isn’t working in my office in those. You have five minutes. Put on some decent underwear.”

He turned and walked from the kitchen, taking his coffee with him. I heard him greet Grandma as he sat with her. Monica and I just looked at each other.

“Put on decent underwear?” I asked.

“You can’t try on clothes in shabby knickers,” she replied.

“Who the fuck is going to see what knickers I have on? Can you believe that arsehole?”

“Go get showered, tie your hair up, and put on some decent underwear,” she said, laughing.

I stomped up the stairs, grumbling that I was a fucking nineteen-year-old, nearly twenty, and could do what I wanted. I did, however, shower, put my hair up, and slip on the only decent pair of knickers and bra that I had.

“Would you like to choose my clothes?” I shouted while I stood in front of my wardrobe pondering on what to wear.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when an arm reached over to grab the one dress hanging there.

“What the fuck?” I shrieked, covering myself with my arms.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m not looking at you.”

“Why are you in here? ”

“Because your five minutes were up, and I don’t like waiting.”

“Too fucking bad,” I said.

“And I don’t like foul language,” he added, standing way too close for my liking... Or rather, it was for my liking.

I cocked my head to one side and raised my eyebrows. “What will you do about it, then?” I challenged.

“Put you over my knee and spank the shit out of you.”

He didn’t smile or smirk, and although I wasn’t sure if he was serious or not, there was something that made me want to unleash all the foul language I could.

Then he did that thing. He rubbed the side of his eye with his middle finger. “Strike one, Ruby.”

I swallowed hard, my stomach flipped, and I wanted to cross my legs to quell the throb between my thighs.

“How many strikes do I get?” I asked, my voice husky.

“Three, no more.”

“And when I get to three?”

“You’ll see, I guess.” He handed me the dress. “Put this on, now.”

I slipped it over my head, grabbed the first pair of footwear that came to hand and a hair band. As I was following him down the stairs, I bunched my hair on top of my head. Of course, being the untamed curls that it was, it fell all over the place.

“Ah, you look nice,” Monica said.

“Thank you. I don’t know what’s happening,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

“You’re going clothes shopping,” she answered. “Go, gift horse and all that,” she added with a whisper. “I’ll wait here until someone arrives.”

I sat at the bottom of the stairs and laced up my boots.

Sebastian was waiting in the car, impatiently I thought. He tapped his fingers on the centre arm rest.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” I asked as I slid in beside him. The door closed automatically.

“Yes.”

“Then why aren’t you doing it?”

“Because you need clothes.”

He said it so matter of fact. I shrugged my shoulders and settled in my seat, crossing my seatbelt over my chest.

“I don’t like this dress, it’s too short,” I said.

“Yes, it is.”

He was looking at my legs. The dress had risen to my upper thighs. I tugged at it, hoping to cover a little more skin.

“I don’t like those boots, they’re too manly,” he said.

“Yes, they are,” I replied, smiling sweetly .

We soon pulled into the underground car park of my worst nightmare, a shopping centre. The driver stopped by the doors and Sebastian climbed out. I sat and sulked. He opened the door and held out his hand. I slowly took it and was yanked from my seat.

“Do you have to pull me around?” I asked.

“Only when you don’t respond quick enough.”

“Jesus, anyone would think you’re my dad,” I said, smirking at him.

He led the way, still holding my hand. He did that a lot, held my hand. There were times when I thought it might mean something, and others, like then, when he just held it so I didn’t lag behind.

“Slow down, will you?” I asked.

“Sorry, I hate shopping.”

“So do I. So why are we?” I asked.

“Because. Now get your arse in there.” We had stopped outside a department store.

“You actually trust me to pick out some clothes? And how do you think I’m going to pay for them?” I was back to having my hands on hips to show how serious I was.

“No,” he said, laughing. “And I am. Now get in. There’s a private shopper waiting for us.”

He pushed me forwards, and we walked towards the women’s clothes section. We stood for a minute, neither of us sure where to go .

“Ah, Mr. Wolfe?” We heard. I turned first to see an older lady jogging over. “Is this your daughter, Ruby?” she asked.

I had to bite down hard on my lower lip to stop from laughing. He looked like thunder had struck. His glare had her shrivel.

“No, she is not my daughter,” he said, his voice low and stern.

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. Erm...”

“She needs work clothes, a casually dressed office environment. She also needs some evening wear and smart restaurant clothes. And shoes, please don’t forget the shoes.”

“I can pick—” I started. He glared at me, clearly pissed, and I shut up. I couldn’t, however, stop my shoulders from shaking.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, let it out, Ruby,” he said, sighing.

I laughed. I laughed so hard tears rolled down my cheeks. The shopper stood totally bemused.

“Better?” he asked when I used a tissue he held out to wipe my eyes.

“Yes, Dad, thanks.” I was off again.

He shook his head. “Where do I wait?” he asked, brusquely.

“Follow me,” the shopper said. She was obviously confused .

We walked through a door and into a seating area. Champagne was on ice, and beside it was soft drinks. He was invited to sit; I was invited to follow her into a cubical. I was asked to remove the dress and then she measured me. I guessed that was the reason for the decent underwear. She asked me what my favourite styles and colours were. All I could do was shrug my shoulders. I didn’t have any, I’d told her. She gave me a robe to put on and told me she’d be about a half hour.

There were magazines and we were offered tea and coffee. He took the coffee and I opted for a soft drink. We were then left alone. I sat, swinging my legs, and looking around. The robe was too long, and my hands were halfway up my sleeves. I waved my arms. He sighed.

“Do you do this a lot?” I asked.

“Shop?” he asked, and I nodded. “No. I have someone come to the house.”

“How did she know to expect us?” I asked.

“I called her from your house. What do you think I do?”

“I don’t know. You just say something and then it happens.”

“That’s the way it’s meant to be,” he said.

“Not for me, it doesn’t.”

He looked at me. “That changes now, Ruby.”

For a moment I was silent. “Why, Sebastian? ”

“Why, what?”

“Why me? Why are you doing this for me?” I asked, clarifying.

“Because I want to, and I can.”

“I mean, I’m super grateful and all, but I’m still waiting for the catch.”

“No catch. I’ve said that before. Something tells me to do this. Maybe you’re my redemption, my ticket to heaven, since I’ve been such a selfish prick most of my adult life.” He laughed and then picked up a magazine.

“I can’t imagine you ever being selfish,” I said, meaning it.

“You don’t know me,” he replied.

“Will I ever?”

He lowered the magazine but was stopped from answering by the return of my shopper. She wheeled in a rail that held an array of clothes. One caught my eye. A bright red sequined dress, mid length with, I assumed, a halter neck. I stood and walked over to it, running my hand over the material.

“Try that on first,” Sebastian said. He leant forward in his chair.

I pulled it from the rack and the shopper followed me to the changing room.

“You’ll need to remove your bra,” she said, standing at the open cubical.

“Yes, I sort of got that. If you don’t mind...? ”

She stepped back and I closed the door. When I slipped the dress over my head, I felt a million dollars. Closely fitted to my curves, it was stunning. I’d never worn anything like it before.

“Come out when you’re ready,” she said.

I opened the door and shyly walked to a pedestal in front of a large mirror. I stood on it, facing the glass. I saw Sebastian looking at me. He caught my eye and very slowly nodded. His appraisal pleased me. I turned my focus back to me and reached up to pull the band from my hair. After fluffing it, I let it fall down my back. I heard a strange noise and looked at Sebastian again. He stood and walked over. He moved the hair that had fallen over my shoulder, exposing the deep V at the front of the dress.

“Shoes,” he said, still looking at me.

The shopper opened a box and pulled out a pair of red high-heeled shoes. I was sure I’d never be able to walk in them. He took one and tapped my thigh. I lifted my leg, and he placed the shoe on my foot. There was something erotic about the way he held me, more so when I had to lean on him while he placed the other shoe on. He was the one kneeling behind me. He looked at me in the mirror for way too long before he stood. He licked his lower lip and circled me.

“We’ll take these,” he said.

The air was hot, heady, and I wanted to fan myself. He circled me again, studying me, licking his lips as if he was about to pounce. It was only the shopper, concealing a cough, that brought him back to the present.

I tried on trousers and shirts, flat shoes, and another midnight blue, full-length dress. That one slinked over my body and because it was satin, it caused my nipples to pucker. He noticed that, of course. Another pair of high heels accompanied that dress.

By the time we were done, I had added smart jeans, some polo shirts, and jumpers. I refused a new coat. I loved the red one and fully intended to wear that.

“Bag all this up, please,” he said to the shopper as I handed the last item from the dressing room. I slipped on my dress and Dr Marten boots and joined him. He handed her a credit card.

We followed her to a till and I nearly fell on the floor when it rang up the total. He’d spent over three thousand pounds on me. I opened my mouth to speak.

“Strike two,” I heard quietly. I looked at him. He had two fingers stroking the side of his face.

“I didn’t say anything,” I whispered back.

“You were about to. Be happy.”

I was, in fact. I couldn’t stop smiling at the thought of the new clothes. I then felt a pang of dismay. Other than work, I had nowhere to wear the dresses. Maybe that would change. Perhaps there would be work outings I’d be invited to.

I took his hand in mine as he paid and squeezed it. He didn’t look down, but squeezed back. I leaned in close.

“Thank you. Honestly, I know I’m a bitch most times, but I really do appreciate what you’re doing for me.”

He took back his card and the receipt and then smiled down at me. He gave me a wink and I all but melted inside.

“I’m still not paying you back with sex, though. You can keep asking,” I said, then grabbed my bags and walked off.

“Strike three,” he called out, and I laughed.

I jogged back to the entrance and slid into the car before he got there. The driver took a call, and I noticed Sebastian walking towards the car, also on the phone. I started to get excited, but also worried. I wanted to know what happened after strike three but didn’t at the same time.

He slid into the seat and didn’t look at me, let alone speak.

The car pulled away. I sat and stared at him; he looked forwards. He must have known I was looking at him, I’d turned in my seat to face him.

We drove past my house, past the office, and out towards Kent. I panicked a little at that point. I sat straight in my seat and looked out the window. Eventually, we pulled up at metal gates and waited for them to open.

A tree lined drive led towards a large modern house. The car stopped outside. Sebastian opened his door while the driver opened mine. I went to gather the bags.

“Leave them,” Sebastian said, and it was the first time he’d spoken since we’d left the store. His voice was gravelly.

I did as I was told and stood by the car, not sure what to do.

“Come,” he said.

I didn’t want to, but my legs had other ideas. I walked towards him, and the driver carried my bags to the front door. He opened it, not Sebastian, and placed them in the vast hall. I followed Sebastian in. The hall was cool and white, with a marble floor and grand staircase to one side.

When the driver closed the front door behind him, we were left standing in the vast space together. He stared at me.

“What’s the time, Mr. Wolfe?” I whispered.

“One O’clock,” he replied.

I took one step closer to him.

“What’s the time, Mr. Wolfe,” I asked again.

“Four O’clock,” he said .

I took four steps. My body was touching his. I looked down, keeping my eyes closed.

“What’s the time, Mr. Wolfe?” I whispered.

“Dinner time, Ruby.”

He grabbed my chin and raised my face. He lowered his and I struggled to regulate my breath. I dragged in air to fill my lungs. He hadn’t restricted my breathing in any way. It was desire and want that crushed my lungs. My hands shook as he stared at me, his face angled so close to mine. I closed my eyes as his lips met my cheek gently. He dragged them across to my neck, using his tongue to taste me. I moaned, then, giving in to the sound that had been building in my chest.

My legs started to shake, more so when he ran a hand up my back and fisted in my hair. He pulled, forcing my head backwards.

“Look at me, Ruby,” he demanded.

At first, I couldn’t. He pulled my hair harder, jolting me. I mewled; a sound I’d never heard from myself before. I looked at him.

“I gave you warning, didn’t I?” he whispered.

I nodded causing a pull on my scalp.

“How many?”

“Three strikes,” I replied, my voice hoarse.

“Are you aroused?”

“Yes. ”

“Punishment arouses you,” he said, as if he knew that for fact.

I started to shake more. My stomach was flipping a triple salchow.

“You arouse me,” I confessed.

His lips crashed on mine so hard he nearly forced me off my feet. I had to take a half step back to balance. His tongue demanded mine. His hand tightened further in my hair, and I moaned into his mouth. That spurred him on, I guessed.

His kiss was deep, claiming. I could hear him breathe through his nose, feel his chest rise and fall against me. Only then did I raise my arms and wrap them around his neck. I grabbed his hair, and it was more for something to hang onto. My legs were going to give way.

He bit down on my lower lip, and I thought he’d drawn blood. He crushed me to him, holding me tighter. Just his mouth was close to bringing me to an orgasm.

Then he stopped.

He took a step back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. I saw a smear of blood, not knowing if it was his or mine. I panted, desperate to catch my breath.

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

I was shaken. My legs quivered and I blinked rapidly .

“You need to go,” he said.

I bit down on my sore lip to stop from crying.

What the fuck had just happened?

He turned away, keeping his back to me, and I saw him take a deep breath and exhale slowly. He straightened himself, pulled himself upright, before slowly turning back to face me.

“What did I do?” I asked, quietly.

“You’re too young, Ruby.”

“I’m nineteen!”

“I’m old enough to be you dad, remember?”

“So? I’m not a child, for Christ’s sake.”

“You. Are. Too. Young.”

“And yet you want me,” I challenged.

He nodded.

I pulled my dress over my head; he closed his eyes.

I slipped off my bra; he opened his eyes.

When I lowered my knickers, he stepped towards me.

“I’m on three strikes, Mr. Wolfe,” I said, aware that my voice was sultry, but it wasn’t intentional.

He grabbed me then, forced me back against the wall and turned me away from him. He held my wrists above my head, and I held my breath.

He slapped my arse.

It stung. It brought tears to my eyes, and a pulse between my legs. I was instantly wet, enough to feel it between my thighs.

He slapped my arse again.

I moaned and rested my forehead on the wall. I’d never been spanked before. I’d read it, watched it online. It was different, experiencing it, of course. My skin stung, it was a heat that spread not only over my skin but down between my legs. His palm stayed connected with my arse and he gently rubbed. It didn’t do anything to ease the soreness, but it was pleasurable.

Sebastian used his foot to kick at my ankles, and I parted my legs.

“Strike three,” he said, and then spanked me again.

That time, it was lower. His fingers covered my opening, and he held his hand there, teasing my clitoris. I was done for. I came, arching my back towards him. I felt liquid run from me, drip down my thigh, and I wanted to die of embarrassment.

He rubbed at my opening, coating his fingers, and then lowered his head to my neck. “Good girl, Ruby,” he said.

There was something in the way he spoke such simple words that had me wanting to please him.

When he pulled his hand away, I felt bereft. “No!” I said.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” he whispered. “But don’t worry, I’m not finished with you yet. What time did I say it was?”

My stomach lurched, and because I didn’t reply as quickly as I guess he wanted me to, I got another spank.

“Dinner time,” I said.

He turned me to face him. “Beautiful,” he said, rubbing his thumb under my eyes to catch the tears that had settled there.

He lowered himself to his knees, holding my hips. “You wanted me on my knees, Ruby, and here I am.”

Before I could respond, he had buried his face in my pussy. He sucked on my clitoris, sending shockwaves through my body. He held the sensitive nub between his teeth, slowing biting down until I screamed out.

I fisted his hair, tightening my grip with every lick, suck, or nip. Sweat rolled down my back, my hair stuck to my skin, and my legs started to shake again.

“No,” I said, pushing his head. The orgasm that was building was intense, the ache in my stomach from the last one hadn’t subsided.

He paused. “No!” I said, and he chuckled.

“You don’t get to say no, Ruby,” he whispered, and his breath soothed the heat.

“Shouldn’t I have a safe word?” I panted out.

He chuckled. “Safe words are for pussies. Trust me to know what you can stand, okay?” he said, looking up at me .

I hardly knew him, but I trusted him explicitly. I wasn’t sure why, I just did. I nodded. He continued his feasting of me.

When I came again, I wanted to slide down the wall. Instead, he stood, and he picked me up. His face glistened with my come and I ran my tongue over his lips, tasting myself. He walked us up to his bedroom.

He placed me, very gently, on the bed and then pulled his shirt over his head. He slowly undid the buckle of his belt and slid it through the hoops. He placed it on the bed. He kicked off his shoes and then removed his trousers. He was naked underneath.

“Condom,” he said, pointing to a cabinet beside the bed.

I reached for one and tore the packet open. “I... I’ve never put one on before,” I said, holding it.

He took it from me, and I watched as he rolled it down his cock.

He crawled up my body, holding himself above me. “I’m going to fuck you now. Is that okay?” His mouth was near mine and his voice a whisper over my lips. I nodded.

He held his cock near my entrance, gently teasing me. I wrapped my arms around him and scraped my nails down his back. I parted my legs further, ready for him. When he pushed inside me, I thought I’d die. He was balls deep and still .

“Move,” I said.

“What did I say to you before?” he asked, still holding himself above me.

I stared at him and then smirked.

“You. Don’t. Get. To. Tell. Me. What. I. Can. Do.” He slammed into me on each word.

He fucked me like I’d never been before. Admittedly, I’d only had sex a handful of times and it wasn’t particularly enjoyable, but the emotion and feelings he produced were addictive. I wanted more and more. I wanted harder and deeper.

Time spun around me. I came, and then I came again. I wanted to curl up to ease the ache. He wouldn’t let me. It was a delicious pain that throbbed through me. He kissed me hard, then softly, he nibbled on the skin of my neck and shoulder.

I wrapped my legs over his, dug my nails into his skin, which earned me a hard bite, enough to break skin, I was sure.

I was sore. I ached. I had lost my voice. My throat scratched with every dragged in mouthful of air.

Finally, he came, and granted me some relief.

Sebastian slid to the side of me and lay on his back. We didn’t speak for a little while. Eventually, he propped himself up on his elbow and removed the condom. He placed that in the bin beside the bed.

“Okay?” he asked, gently .

“More than,” I said, chuckling.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Yes, but not enough.”

It was his turn to chuckle.

“Can I tell you a secret?” I asked, turning on my side to look at him. He nodded as he pushed my hair from my face. “I’ve never had an orgasm before. I’ve just had three and I don’t know if that’s normal or not.”

He didn’t laugh or smirk. “I’m glad I was able to do that for you, Ruby. There is no normal where sex is concerned. If you liked it, it’s normal. If you didn’t, then say.”

“I doubt I could have stopped them,” I said, and I knew my cheeks were flaming. I didn’t talk about sex normally.

“I have a lot to teach you, don’t I?” he whispered.

“I want you to teach me,” I replied. “But now, I think I need to go home. I need some time to process.”

He smiled at me, kissed the tip of my nose, and slid from the bed. He headed through a door and then called me. He’d turned on the shower and beckoned me under. He stood me in front of him and soaped a sponge. He washed me, then he dried me and once he’d done that, he slathered on a cold cream over my arse cheeks.

“You look fucking amazing with my handprint on your arse,” he said .

I twisted my body to see in the mirror. “Jesus!” I said, catching a glimpse.

He dressed and then ran downstairs to collect my clothes. Once I was dressed again, we walked out of the house. He carried the shopping bags. To the side, were garages. He told me to wait while he collected his car.

I wished he hadn’t driven as fast. I didn’t want to get home, but I knew I needed to. Soon, we were there, and I sat for a moment.

“I feel guilty,” I said, looking at the house.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been enjoying myself and I should have been looking after my Grandma.”

“Are you not allowed to enjoy yourself?” he asked, gently.

“No, not really.”

He didn’t reply. He left the car and opened my door. I took his hand and stood. When he opened the boot to retrieve the bags, a tear slipped from my eye.

“Why the tears?” he asked, walking with me to the front door.

“Thank you for today. Can you return those?” I asked, pointing to the bags.

“Why would I want to?”

“Because this isn’t my reality,” I said, placing my hand on his chest. “This is,” I added, turning to the front door .

“Why can’t you have both?” he asked.

I sighed. “I don’t deserve to have both. You don’t know what I’ve done.”

He stepped closer to me. “Are you sure about that?”

“You can’t know. No one knows.”

“I know a tortured soul when I see one. One that mirrors mine.”

I shook my head, opened the front door, and stepped in. He didn’t attempt to hand me the bags, and I wasn’t ashamed of the tears that flowed down my face.

“Thank you for today. I really do appreciate it. I guess... I guess I’ll see you at work.”

He nodded. “I’ll keep these at mine for when you’re ready.”

I closed the front door.

It wasn’t Tim on duty that night, but someone new, Emma. I guessed she’d heard me and kept her distance. It was only when I was making tea that she appeared.

“Hi, Ruby,” she said, startling me.

“Sorry, I was making tea. How is my grandma?”

“She’s sleeping. She woke once and asked after you. I told her you were sleeping, too. That settled her.”

“Thank you. I can carry on from here,” I said.

She nodded and returned to the living room to grab her bag.

“You know, carer breakdown is the most common thing I see as a professional carer. If you don’t look after you, you’re no good to your grandma.”

I didn’t respond and she left, not before telling me that Jim was on the following morning, and he’d be there at eight. I thanked her.

I cried that night, really sobbed. I let out all the pent up upset and sadness I’d been holding in for years. I buried my face in my pillow to quell the noise. No one knew what I’d done.

Killing my mother was something I’d take to my grave.