Black Girls and Bad Boys: Changing his Tune (9 page)

She shook her head.

He let go of her and she brought her hands up across her chest.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she said in a very small voice.

He held out his hand. She looked at it first, then let go of herself
and took it.

He led her off the bed and over to the dressing table. The mirror
cut them both off at the shoulders, but it was her body he wanted her to look
at.

Pulling her in front of himself, he saw that she was looking away.
He kissed her shoulder, her neck, the patch of skin beside her ear. “Look in
the mirror.”

She did as he asked.

“What do you see?”

There was a drawn-out pause as she stared at herself in the glass.

He put his hands on the gentle curve of her belly.

“Don’t.”

“You’re soft and feminine. You carried a baby in there for nine
months. It’s not supposed to be flat.”

He got down on his knees and moved to kneel beside her. “I love your
belly. He laid a kiss on the flesh beneath her navel. He could smell the faint
perfume of her soap and the wild musk of her sex. “You should love it too.” He
placed a second kiss below the first. Then another, and another.

Moving ever lower, he held her by the waist and kissed his way
through her pubic hair, breathing in the very essence of her.

When his lips pressed against the tender bud of her clitoris, she
dug her fingers into his shoulders.

He gave her a taste of what was to come, then kissed a trail back up
over her mound. He continued his course all the way up to her breasts, taking
them in his hands as he got up off his knees. “Do you like your breasts?”

She stared into his eyes. It encouraged him that she didn’t say no,
but she didn’t say yes either.

“I love your breasts.” Bringing them together, he kissed each nipple
and pressed his lips to the cleavage he’d created.

Her breathing was loud and laboured. He let go of her to take her
hand. “You can feel how much I love your body.” He put her hand between his
legs, covering his shaft with her palm.

He watched her eyes grow heavy with need. “Can you feel that?”

She nodded, her wonderful breasts rising and falling with the effort
it took to draw in breath. As he let go of her hand, she wrapped her fingers
around him and squeezed. He closed his eyes, just for a moment. She felt so
good. But this time, he was going to make it last.

Reaching behind her, he swept her off her feet and up into his arms.
“You don’t know how much I want you.” He laid her down on the bed and let his
eyes drink her in. He was pleased she made no move to cover herself. Perhaps he
was getting through to her.

He climbed onto the foot of the bed, kneeling beside her ankles. The
time they had left before they’d have to leave was nowhere near enough. He
wanted to spend the whole day like this – exploring her, pleasing her, building
on the closeness they shared.

Lifting her foot off the bed, he brought it to his lips and kissed
her toe. Then he kissed her instep, her ankle, her calf. He kissed a path up
her leg, the heady scent of her excitement growing stronger all the time. When
he climbed between her legs, her breathing quickened and she chewed on her
bottom lip.

The slick opening to her core glistened with juice and spurred him
on to what he considered the most intimate act. He spread her outer lips with
his thumbs. She jumped when he touched her there and he pressed harder,
applying enough pressure to make her wriggle.

Finally, he lowered his mouth to her sex, licking his way through
the coating of natural lubricant and finding her most sensitive spot. She was
hot and wet, more than ready for his touch. He flicked the tip of his tongue
over her clit. She grabbed hold of his wrists, but didn’t pull him away. Then
she began to moan and it made him even harder.

But this was about her, not him. Moving in ever-widening circles, he
teased her with his mouth, darting over the entrance to her core without ever
quite making it inside.

He held her down by the hips, fighting her body’s instinct to buck
him off. Her legs quivered on either side of him, her feet slipping over the
bedclothes.

As her movements grew more frenzied, he plunged his tongue into her
very centre and pinched her clit between finger and thumb. She let out a sound
somewhere between a groan and a scream. He pinched harder, forcing his tongue
as deep as it would go, curling it in search of her g-spot. Then he swapped,
sucking on her clit and sliding two fingers inside her. He tickled her with the
tips of his fingers, finding the bundle of nerve-endings that would take her
over the edge.

Working on her with his lips, his teeth, his tongue, his hands, he
felt her kick against the mattress. She was close. He could tell by the
abundance of moisture that flowed from between her legs and the way that she
arched her back up off the bed. More than anything, he wanted to watch her
come. He wanted to look into her eyes and know that he was the one who’d taken
her to a place where her mind gave up control and let her body take over.

For him, the best sex always turned into something primal – two
bodies in direct communication, working on little more than instinct.

She clutched at his arms, digging her nails into his flesh. He moved
faster, sucked harder. She was almost there. So close he could taste it on her
skin. Her cries grew louder and scissored his fingers inside her. At the same
time, he licked then nibbled, licked then nibbled at her clit. Just before he
sensed she was about to peak, he stopped licking to look up at her face. Her
eyes were screwed tight shut, her lips brought together in a luscious pout.

He would have loved to look into her eyes, but he didn’t dare speak
to her and risk breaking her concentration. Then she tipped over the edge and
came long and loud. If there were any guests left asleep at that hour, the
sound of Angie’s climax would surely have woken them. 

He kept on moving his fingers, holding her simmering in sexual need.
Now it was his turn. If he was going to change position, he had to do it soon
or she’d be soaring away on her next orgasm. He moved his hand so that his two
middle fingers were inside her and he could rub on her clit with his thumb. A
little extra pressure had her writhing against him, already back on the path to
satisfaction.

He groped blindly at the bedside table with his free hand and
eventually came across the little square packet he was looking for. Tearing it
open with his teeth, he had to let go of her to sheathe himself. She reached
for him, turning his face to look at her. Her eyes were open again. She gave
him an exhausted smile and he moved up the bed to kiss her magnificent lips.

Her hands went to his face, then to his waist, then to his ass. He
guided his aching cock up inside her and both of them gasped. “I wish you could
see yourself,” he said as he started to move inside her.

He pulled out and went deeper, his eyes never leaving hers. She was
so amazing and she didn’t even know it. This time, he took things slowly,
drawing out every touch, every tensing of her muscles around him. He took her
breast in his hand and she blinked ever so slowly. He took another kiss, but
however many times his lips met hers it was never enough. Her mouth opened to
his tongue just as her sex welcomed him in.

Noah held back for as long as he could, but he couldn’t keep going
forever. His orgasm crept over him slowly and steadily. He felt it build,
raising goosebumps on his naked skin. He shouted as he came, clutching at her
breast until he worried he might hurt her. But she was still smiling at him.

After a pause to let the sensations run their course, he started up
again, thrusting harder to bring on her climax before his erection faded away.
Holding her by the wrists, he rammed into her, feeling her breasts jounce
between them. He wished he was ready to come again, but then orgasm number two
took her and it was enough just to watch. She spasmed around him, her mouth
forming a little ‘o’ of pleasure. He held himself above her as the wave
subsided. When it was over, he lay beside her and they shared tender kisses.

––––––––

A
fter several false starts and somehow managing to run out of time
for breakfast, Angelique and Noah made it back to the tour bus before nine.
She’d considered heading over there separately to make things less obvious, but
it was pretty pointless. Everyone had seen them go for a walk together and then
stay out all night. She drew the line at holding hands though. There was no
reason to actively draw attention to themselves.

John, all three members of the band and all of the roadies lined up
on the tarmac to welcome them back and they got a standing ovation. Even the
driver clapped from his seat behind the wheel.

“I won’t ask where you’ve been,” said John as he ushered them
inside.

She didn’t say a word. Neither did Noah. A flush of warmth crept up
her throat, but in the main she was too happy to feel embarrassed. They were
both adults. They could do as they pleased.

Angelique went straight to her bunk and got out her new Ian Rankin.
Climbing onto the bed with it was tempting, but in the end she settled for
taking it to the table. It was insanely difficult to concentrate on reading,
but it was easier than having to look anybody in the eye. Noah plonked himself
down next to her. She didn’t look up, but he squeezed her thigh under the table
and she squeezed him back.

Surprisingly, no one said much about the new couple after that. The
tour got into full swing and Angelique got to see Noah in proper rock star
mode. Watching him up there on a huge stage with all the lighting effects, and
hearing the crowd scream for him – it was pretty damn surreal.

The man whose name they were shouting – who women were lining up to
see at the stage door – that was the man who’d told her she was beautiful and
made love to her in a way she’d never experienced. She watched him play every
night for a week straight and she still wasn’t able to reconcile those two
versions of him.

They didn’t get another chance to sneak away together – John had set
the tour up so it started off gently, but after the first couple of days the
pace really picked up. Things got so hectic, she couldn’t help worrying what
Noah might be tempted to do in his down-time. She spent as much time with him
as possible, and everyone on the tour knew what his situation was, but little
seeds of concern quickly grew into some sizable fears.

What worried her most was that he’d taken to lying closed up in his
bunk for great chunks of the day. It was a classic sign of depression. And the
last thing she wanted was for him to start self-medicating.

One morning when Noah was still asleep, she asked John outside to
talk things over.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he told her as soon as they
stepped off the bus.

“Aren’t you worried? I’m pretty sure he hasn’t been using, but that
might just be a matter of time. Have you seen how thin he is?” He’d come so
far. It would kill her if the pressure of the tour sent him back to square one.

“He’s fine. This is what it’s like on the road – it’s hard, but when
it’s all over we’ll have time to catch our breaths again.”

“What if he doesn’t last that long?” Nearly five more weeks. What
would the extra stress do to him?

He put a hand on her shoulder. “That’s why you’re here. Talk to him.
Be there for him to lean on.”

“I’m trying.” But there was so little opportunity for them to spend
any time together. The last few days had seen everyone eating on the bus on the
way to the next gig. There was no privacy. No chance to sit down and have a
meaningful conversation. “He needs a break, John. I can’t talk to him when
we’re stuck on the bus all the time.”

“I know you two need some... alone time.”

She shook her head and opened her mouth to object, but he talked
over her.

“We’ve got three more concerts before we head over the border to
Scotland and then we’ve got a night off. I can make some arrangements. Book you
in somewhere for the night. What do you think?”

A whole night to themselves. “It’s a start. But I still think the
schedule’s too much for him.”

“Come on, Angelique. There’ll be other nights off. We can’t afford
to do this for six weeks if we don’t play enough gigs.”

“I know.” When it came down to it, she’d only been hired to keep him
in a fit state to do the concerts and earn enough money to keep him solvent.
Keeping him sober was the most important thing. If he lost his house – his home
– that was just as likely to push him over the edge as the pressure of playing
nearly forty venues in six weeks.

“Take him out. Get him to talk and make sure he’s okay.”

“I will.” In the meantime, all she could do was pray he he’d make it
through the next three nights without doing something he’d regret.

***

I
t wasn’t until they drove into Scotland and the prospect of a night
off became tangible that Noah realised just how bone-tired he was. All week
he’d been thinking about the holy grail of Sunday. He’d been on the internet
searching for a suitably romantic place for them to stay and daydreamed about
loch-side strolls in the moonlight.

But when the driver parked up and John told everyone they could
“piss off for the night”, he found all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep.
The way Angie kept smiling at him made it clear that wasn’t an option.

“So, do you want to be Mr and Mrs Smith, or have you got another
alias in mind?” She sidled over to take his hand and he kissed her palm.

“No reason not to go with the classic.” They started to walk,
neither of them raising the question of where they were going.

The driver had brought them to the only car park in the village.
Well, the area was probably big enough to qualify as a town. He’d never heard
of the place, but it had a lot fewer sheep and quite a few more shops than he’d
been picturing. He guessed the small hotel he’d seen online was about fifteen
minutes away on foot.

It was too early for moonlight, but as he walked along beside her,
he began to lose interest in the idea of going to sleep. Bed, though... Going to
bed still seemed like a great thing to do. He stopped in the middle of the
pavement and spun her into his arms for a kiss.

God it felt good to hold her again. They stood smiling at each other
for a few beats, then he took her hand and they carried on walking.

He’d tried to sneak a few affectionate moments since that first
night, but she was always paranoid that someone would be watching. Personally,
he didn’t care. After the way they’d got together, everyone on the bus knew
they were an item. What did it matter if they saw them kissing? But Angie felt
differently.

Then there was a concert every night and he didn’t have the energy
for anything amorous. He’d see her sitting at the table with John or one of the
others, and he’d barely have the strength to wave. He didn’t know how the band
did it – especially the drummer. That guy really threw himself around the kit
every set, and then he’d wake up in the morning with no bags under his eyes and
the complexion of a dairy maid. With a beard.

He only hoped he wouldn’t prove a disappointment to Angie. It was
important to him that their second night together should be as special as the
first. But he definitely wasn’t feeling his best.

They walked on past the shops and houses and took a path along the
edge of a field. It turned out that the hotel he’d booked a room in was the
same one John had mentioned to Angie. The rough, dark stone they’d used for the
walls gave the place a harsh appearance. It was bigger than the cottage they’d
stayed in on that first night. He hoped it was cosier inside than the exterior
suggested.

It didn’t take long to check in and make their way up to the room.
The decor was plain and minimal – neutral colours and geometric prints on the
soft furnishings. He sat on the bed while Angie checked out the bathroom. He
resisted the temptation to lie back. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay awake
if he did that.

Her phone rang on the bedside table and she came back in.

“Hello. Yes.” She walked over to the window.

He’d already looked at the view – a very empty road and a few shops
opposite the hotel.

“What did he say?”

He couldn’t see her face, but she didn’t sound happy. She turned
back to him and mimed writing something down. It took him a moment to work out
she wanted a pen. He shook his head. He didn’t have one.

Angie marched over to her bag and found what she needed. Repeating
each digit back to the person on the phone, she wrote down a telephone number,
said goodbye and hung up.

“What was that about?” A sense of dread had settled over the room.

“That was The Cloister. Wesley was trying to get hold of me. They
don’t give out staff details so he left his number.”

Wouldn’t she have that already? “And?”

“What if it’s Lewis? I don’t know why else he’d call. Something must
have happened to him.” She clutched the phone in her hands, her face a picture
of misery.

Noah rushed to her and took her in his arms. “Shh. You don’t know
that. Call him and find out.”

“I can’t.” Her tears soaked through his t-shirt to wet his chest.

“Angie, you have to know for sure.”

She didn’t speak. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t think of another
reason Wesley would call either.

He held her to him and hoped with all his heart they’d both be
proved wrong.

***

S
he knew she had to make the call. She didn’t want to do it, but
there was no other way to find out what was going on.

But first, she wanted Noah to hold her for a little while longer.
She clung to him until the tears stopped falling, then she pulled away and
looked at the number she’d written down. His mobile number. Up until then, she
hadn’t even known the mobile number of the man who was raising her son. What
sort of mother did that make her?

She typed it into her phone, pausing with her thumb over the call
icon. All the same negative thoughts crowded in on her, but she tapped the
screen anyway and put the handset to her ear. Each ring that he didn’t answer
was further proof that something awful had happened. Tears prickled at her
eyes. If it went through to voicemail...

“Hello?”

“Wesley, what’s happened?”

“Oh, the clinic caught up with you then?”

“What’s wrong? Why were you looking for me? Is it, is it...?” She
couldn’t ask.

“Where are you?”

“At work. What’s going on? Is Lewis okay?”

“Lewis is none of your business.”

The words hit her like a slap in the face, bringing her back from
the edge of hysteria. “Is he okay?” The silence on the other end of the phone
was maddening.

“He’s fine.”

So why was he trying to get hold of her?

“I just wanted you to know I’ve taken out a restraining order.”

“What?”

“They would have notified you by now but no one could find you.” The
disapproval was clear in his tone of voice. He knew exactly where she was.

She looked over at Noah. After their little visit, Wesley would know
exactly who she was with too. “Why?”

But Wes ended the call without giving an answer. She put the phone
in her pocket.

“What is it?” Noah asked, patting the bed beside him for her to sit
down. “What’s wrong?”

She couldn’t go to him. It would be too easy to fall into his arms
and let him comfort her. She didn’t deserve to feel better. Everything that had
happened was her fault. “He took out a restraining order against me.” She
perched herself on the windowsill.

He went to sit beside her shaking his head. “No. No, that’s crazy.
On what grounds?”

“I don’t know. When we went round there... He could have said he felt threatened.”
She thought of Noah putting his foot in the door. At the time, she’d been
surprised at how restrained Wes had been. Perhaps he’d had this in mind even
then.

“You were perfectly reasonable.”

But Wesley wasn’t. He never had been. “He’s trying to punish me. He
must have thought you were my boyfriend and got angry.”

“I am your boyfriend.” He took her hand and she tried not to meet
his gaze. “Aren’t I?”

That was a good question. Circumstances had pushed them together
when they were both in a vulnerable place. They’d needed each other. But what
would happen when he didn’t need her any more? “You don’t need to get involved
in this. It’s my problem.” The stress was no good for him. He may not have said
anything, but it was obvious he’d been struggling to cope over the past few
days.

“I want to help.”

She looked into his eyes. “I don’t want you to worry about me. You
need to focus on the tour.”

“The tour doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t say that.” If it didn’t go well he could lose everything.

“Okay, I need the money, but I don’t want to be here any more.” He
stroked her hair back from her face and cupped her cheek in his hand. “Being on
the bus with you every day. Not being able to hold you and kiss you. It’s
killing me.” He moved to kiss her and she slipped out of his grasp.

“Then I’m part of the problem.”

“No.”

“I’m distracting you. Getting in the way.”

“No.”

She walked away from him and snatched up her bag. “I can’t stay
here. I need some air.”

He got up off the window. “I’ll come with you. We can go for a walk.”

“No.” She put up her hands. “No. I need to take some time.” The
depth of the hurt in his eyes was almost unbearable. But then she thought of
her son. She had to do something. And she couldn’t let Noah get dragged down by
the situation. “I’ll be back later, okay?”

“Okay. Go for a walk. Clear your head. We’ll talk when you get
back.”

She nodded. He wasn’t going to change her mind. This was her
problem; not his.

***

N
oah opened the window and leaned out so he could see Angie when she
left. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They should have been out there
together, taking a stroll hand in hand. One phone call had been enough to pull
her away from him. A wave of thirst rolled over him and he wished he had a
drink. It didn’t matter what – beer, bourbon, vodka, brandy. His brain fastened
on the theme and he worked his way through an imaginary list, remembering the
taste of every alcoholic drink he’d ever had.