“Well, we can talk later, let’s sort you first.” Deb took his arm as they walked the few yards to the door. “Key?”
“Key? No, no key, er numbers. Hold on.” He slid a tiny panel to one side and pressed the pad it hid. “Now push.”
She pushed and the door opened onto a carpeted corridor. Two doors led off it, one marked ‘Fire Escape’. The other had no tag.
“For whoever needs it. I’ve been sharing my time between here and home for what seems like forever.” He pressed another keypad and opened the door.
“Welcome to my parlor and all that, except I couldn’t jump you even if you let me. I’ve got a nasty feeling my bones will seize up if I make any unexpected moves.” Under his tan, he looked gray.
“Sit down before you fall down. What is it with men and not admitting how hurt they are? Are you sure you’re okay to report or whatever? Should you not go and get checked out by the doctor or something? Where’s your first aid kit?” She snapped the questions out as he sank into a large button-back chair and closed his eyes.
“Door on the left, top drawer, right-hand side. Thank you. I’ve been checked out. One of the guests is a doctor. He agreed I had bruises and a cut on my shoulder. I was lucky—Howard called the police and the siren scared them away.”
Debra didn’t say anything but went into the next room, a compact bathroom, with little to mark it out as his. She found the first aid kit and went back into the main room. Braam still sat where she’d left him.
“Braam, don’t go to sleep.” She spoke sharply and he opened his eyes.
Oh, Lord, what if he has concussion?
She tried to remember her first aid course but all that ran through her mind was R. I. C. E.
“I won’t and before you go all worried on me, I’m not concussed just knackered. Oh and annoyed that I’ll have to put our…” he paused. “Chat off.”
“Well it’ll wait.” Debra took hold of his head and gently wiped the blood from his cheek. He immediately looked one hundred percent better. “Do you have a clean shirt or something? So you won’t scare the punters and it’ll make you feel more with it.”
“Yeah, good idea. Thanks, honey, I feel half human.” He stood up and fumbled with the few buttons still left on his shirt. Debra watched his contortions for a few seconds.
“Oh for goodness sake, let me help.” She slipped buttons from buttonholes and slid the sleeves off his arms. Her mouth went dry as once more she saw his chest with its fine sprinkling of blond hair that arrowed downward.
“Clean shirt?” Debra spoke briskly to hide her arousal. It was ridiculous to feel the way she did. She was mid-forties, not mid-teens.
“Wardrobe.” His answer was sharp, but the look in his eyes belied his tone. “T-shirt will do. They can take it or leave it.”
Debra handed him a black T-shirt—did the man wear any other color?—and helped him pull it over his head. Then she stood back and folded her arms. “What next?”
He sighed and stretched a little.
“Damn, I’d love a bath. What next? I go downstairs and wish I’d asked you to wait for me.”
Debra considered for half a second. Her pussy did a shimmy and a shake and her nipples peaked against the lace of her bra.
“Well, ask me then.”
Braam knew he must look as stunned as he felt. The evening that had commenced so promising had turned shitty fast and at one point he’d feared for his skull. When he’d finally gotten the go ahead to contact head office, he had thought Debra would be long gone. After all, why would she hang around?
To find her still there, even if it looked like she was about to give up and leave, had helped a lot of his aches and pains recede into the background. Feeling her respond to him had sent the next lot flying.
Now he was almost ready to climb the peak by the steps—almost. It seemed his lady was as interested in him as he was in her.
“Will you wait until I get back, please? There’s curry and nibbles in the fridge if you’re hungry and juice and wine. I’ll try not to be too long.”
Deb laughed at him. “I almost had curry, but didn’t want to sour my breath. If you’re hungry when you get back, we’ll both have some. There’s just one thing?”
Here it is. No sex, just talk. I can go with that.
“Yes?”
“I want to go and get something to read. How do I get back in?”
Braam managed to stop himself laughing in relief. “I’ll write the codes down for you.”
* * * *
An hour later, he stood up and looked down at the police sergeant, who was an old school friend. “Simon, enough. I’m weary and I need to sleep. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”
Simon Yip also stood. “Okay, point taken. It’s late and my wife says she’s going to buy a cardboard cut-out of me so the children know what I look like. I’ll ring you in the morning if I need anything else. Take care and look out for low flying arms.” He chuckled at his own wit and walked away. The young policeman with him followed behind.
Braam locked the office and headed in the opposite direction. If Deb—he must discover the rest of her name—were still in his suite, she’d probably be asleep.
He opened the suite door quietly. He could hear the TV on low and guessed it would be playing to itself.
Poor woman, why on earth would she take a chance on me?
Braam dropped his loose change into a bowl and walked around the corner into the lounge area.
Deb looked up at him from over a cup of what looked like tea and smiled. “They let you go then?”
If smiles were rated, that one would be off the scale. He grinned.
“With a little bit of smart talking and blackmail.”
She looked somewhat alarmed.
“No, hey, not really. I went to school with the sergeant. I didn’t have to say I’d dish the dirt on how he was pee farthest up the wall champion for three years running.”
Deb burst out laughing and the liquid in her cup sloshed dangerously near the rim. “Were you the runner-up?”
Braam reached into the fridge and took out a bottle of wine. He wanted just one small glass. “Never took part,” he said gravely. “I was the time keeper because I had a second hand on my watch.”
He grabbed the cup from her as she sniggered so much tears spiked her lashes.
“Steady. Here.” He passed Deb a tissue and held the bottle out. “Fresh cuppa, sav blanc, or shall I open some fizz?”
Debra wiped her eyes. “Not fizz. It might shoot out of the bottle and up the wall.”
“There is that. Sav blanc?”
Debra nodded. “A small one, that’s all. It’s silly o’clock and I bet you have to work tomorrow?”
“True.” Braam poured two glasses then passed one to her before sitting on the settee next to her and stretching his legs out with a sigh. “Ahh, I need this. Bloody assholes, and thank you for waiting. It was so good to see you in here when I got back.” He squeezed her hand and she returned the gesture. “Hell, I’m so achy and weary. And so glad you’re here, Deb, whoever you are.” He stretched his arm out. “C’mere and let me have a hug please.”
Debra wriggled and leaned against him. Her perfume was delicate and sexy. It was a pity he was too shattered to do anything about the way he wanted to feel. However, her snuggled next to him was a good start.
“Hmm, that’s beautiful,” he said drowsily. He could stay like they were forever. “Lovely perfume.”
“Fancy recognizing it. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Deb swiveled around to look up at him.
He had no idea what she was talking about. “Pardon?”
“Recognizing my perfume,” she said. “Beautiful.”
“Ah.” Should he own up? “Sadly I didn’t, I just knew I like it. And wishing I wasn’t so bloody knackered not to have the energy to do what I want.”
“Which is?” She sounded as if she genuinely wanted to know.
Braam opted to tell her and if she slapped his face and left, well better now than later.
To screw you senseless.
Maybe he’d better phrase it a little less crudely.
“To make love to you. To discover everything there is to know about you. To see if we have what we both need.” He raised his uninjured shoulder a little in a sort of shrug. It was hard to put his feelings into words. He was a man for heaven’s sake and they weren’t supposed to bare their soul easily. “I have a gut feeling we have something that could be more than a lot of people ever get in a lifetime. Is it weird? Yes. Do I think it sounds stupid because we hardly know each other? Yes. Am I bothered? No, not as long as you feel the same.”
He waited. The fridge buzzed as its motor cut in then stopped as abruptly as it had started. It was so hard not to rush into speech and demand that she tell him her thoughts.
“I’m not sure what I feel to be honest,” Debra said slowly. “I’m scared how much I want you to want me. Appalled that I almost made love without protection. Hell, I’ve drummed that into my kids since forever. I used to do lessons in it. Safe sex or no sex was one of my classes. I was a teacher. That apart, I know I do want to see where we go from here.”
Braam refrained from doing a high five. “Shall we take it slowly? Or as slow as we can within our timescale then?”
Deb smiled. “Oh yes.” She kissed his cheek and nuzzled his neck.
Braam went from tired to aroused in less time than you could say condom alert. He ignored the reminder of his bruises that his body gave him, as he lifted Deb onto his lap.
“I’m too heavy,” she protested but didn’t try to get off.
“You’re not, you’re perfect.” He stroked her arms in a way he hoped reassured her.
“Hmm, which bits of me have you ignored?” Deb said. “Shall I list stuff?”
“Nothing to list. Now cease wriggling or my attempts to take it slowly will go up in flames. Or in a hard dick.” He was very aware of that part of his body waking up.
“Yeah, sorry.” She didn’t sound it. “Well, for one thing, I’m cradle snatching. Got me a toy boy.” She bit her lip. “Do you mind that I’m so much older than you?”
What?
“Woman, you do talk crap at times. I’m thirty-two for goodness sake, neither a toy, nor a boy.”
“I’m forty-four with more baggage than a jumbo jet.”
She’s worried about that?
“Twelve years is nothing. Hey, you’re only just a cougar. You’re as old as you feel. I feel seventy at the moment so that works out well. Now hush. Let’s snuggle and cuddle for a bit.” Braam did what he’d wanted to do since it had registered she’d waited for him. He stroked his hand down her cheek, across her neck and over the material that covered her breasts. “Damned if I don’t want to see you naked. Hold you next to me and stroke your soft skin. Feel it next to mine and then make love with you in every which way. Go to bed with you, wake up with you and, well, see where it all goes. No empty promises.”
Deb slid off his lap and held her hand out. “Do you have an alarm clock?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Then how about you set it and let’s do one of those things for a while. Snuggle and cuddle. You look so damned uncomfortable on that settee. At least we can get horizontal.”
“Naked?” He injected a leer into his tone. “Skin to skin and all that?”
“Don’t push it, mate. Walk not run.”
That was good enough. Ten minutes later he’d found a robe for each of them and they were stretched out on the over-large bed. Braam had to admit it was way more comfy.
Debra had her head on his chest and played with the whorls of hair that escaped through the opening of his robe. He stroked her head, happier and more content than he’d felt in years. He could get used to this feeling. He pulled Debra even closer and she sighed.
“Nice.”
Nice?
That was lukewarm for how he felt, but on reflection, Braam agreed with her. She was right. It was nice. Braam slid his hand between the sides of Debra’s robe, found one hard nipple and rolled it between his fingers. The sexy cock-hardening moan she gave was all he could ask for. She tightened her hand on his chest hair and slid it lower, as she walked her fingers over his tummy. When she closed it around his dick, it was his turn to moan. His pre-cum coated her fingers and her hand slid up and down his length with teasing slowness. It was oh so sweet torture. His fingers tightened on Deb’s nipple and he bent his head to nudge the cloth that covered her to one side. His bruised cheek hit her shoulder and he swore.
“Fucking hell, if I get my hands on that little bugger who did this he’ll be at the police station before he can say Causeway Bay.” He rubbed his cheek. Why he had no idea. It didn’t help the pain, it merely made it hotter and sorer.
“Idiot. Let me.” Debra pushed him down onto his back with her one free hand, without stopping her up down tighten and relax movements on his rock-hard cock.
He couldn’t have stopped her if he had wanted. Her skin was flushed and sweat slicked. Her breathing was shallow and her eyes dark as the night sky.
“Let go, Braam, let yourself come.”
Those soft-spoken words were enough. He shuddered as his body became a mass of sensitive nerve endings that screamed for release. As his cum shot out all over Deb’s hands, he screamed along with them.
She took her time to slow her movement until Braam knew he was drained. Sated, happy and where he wanted to be. Once he recovered, he’d enjoy repaying the favor.
He felt the bed move then a soft, warm and damp cloth wiped his chest and cock.
“You don’t… I can…” Why couldn’t he string two words together properly? His mouth was full of cotton wool and his brain fuzzy.
“Shh, I want to.” A gentle kiss was pressed onto his belly and warm breath stirred the hairs that arrowed down to his quiescent cock.
“Deb?”
“You got it.” The mattress dipped and once more she snuggled in his arms.
“Give me five and I’ll repay the favor.” He held her close. “Let me get my breath back.”
“Of course. I’m all comfy here.”
Without meaning to, Braam closed his eyes and fell asleep.
* * * *
He rolled over onto a cold sheet. His befuddled brain told him something was missing.
Deb.
Braam winced and groaned—he was doing far too much of that, after all it was no more than a tiny roughing up—and struggled upright. He rubbed his eyes and tried to get his brain into gear. He needed a shower, coffee and an explanation. As he swung himself out of bed, he saw the note propped up against the clock.