The Truth of the Body (Templer Series) (4 page)

I dance my tongue around the head, lapping circular motions before sliding my lips over the edge of the head and down his cock. Pulling up and down, drawing him further into my mouth. He throws his head back,
his eyes rolling backwards, a raw growl spitting from his mouth.

“Fuck, baby….your sweet mouth is so good” He pants becoming raspy and hoarse.

He cradles each side of my head with his hands, beginning to rock his cock into my mouth deeper, holding me there, fucking my mouth, his increasing groans of pleasure spiking heat again into my pulsing sex.

“Christ….I don’t want to stop. Fuck!” He rasps, thrusting harder, holding tighter, hands fisting in my hair. I can feel his cock swell as his release builds in intensity. He jerks himself out of my mouth suddenly.

He throws himself down, pulling me onto top of him. “Straddle me, baby. I want to watch you come again.” I roll each knee to either side of his face and lower my pussy onto his tongue. He pierces my folds, darting his tongue up and through the folds. He pulls my clit into his mouth, sucking hard until I buck and shudder, flooding his mouth with another release.

As the waves continue to surge through me,
he jerks his trousers down, his hands grasp my hips drawing me down onto his cock. He thrusts upwards, breaking entry through the folds, rocking up into me. He is arching his hips into me, as I pace him thrust for thrust, growling out each groan…. beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.

I l
ean forward taking his nipple hard between my teeth….biting, sucking, biting. “Fuck, Amber!” He yells out a long harsh growl as he spills his seed, his body convulsing as the orgasm rides through him.

We lie, panting, entangled and drowsy with spent desire.
After a long while, he kisses me long and tenderly before slowly rising, beginning to re-dress himself.

I raise myself onto my elbows, watching as he pulls each layer
onto his body. When he is finished, he sits slowly back onto the bed slumping his shoulders over. He rests his head in his hands, his elbows hard against his knees. He sighs, deep and long.

“What
is wrong, Logan?” I sit up, anxious.

He breathes in sharply one last time, before straightening himself, his shoulders tight and firm. “I
have got to go, Amber.”

He stands, smiles down at me slowly, and makes his way out of the door.

***

Major Logan Grant enters the elevator on the top floor of the Dorchester. He leans his head against the coolness of the glass interior, cursing under his breath. He didn’t want to walk away so harshly but it was the right thing to do. For both of them. He scrapes a hand down his face, knowing. Knowing that Amber Templer was already under his skin.

Chapter Eight

I have not seen Logan since that night. I returned to the unit at Queen Elizabeth Hospital a couple of days later to be informed by Aiden that the Major was returning to Afghanistan in a couple of days so would
not be visiting the unit, instead he was in Norton Manor Camp, the base of 40 Commando in Taunton, Somerset preparing to leave.

As I sit with Aiden now, waiting with him while he receives his discharge from the unit, my mind is flooding with thoughts. He does not know what happened between the Major and me. I would
not do that to him. It is obvious that he has a small crush on me. I am trying to remain in light conversation, chatting casually about what he will do when he leaves the ward but inside I am a mess of emotions.
And it is my own fault. I should not have slept with Logan.

“You keep drifting off” Aiden snaps me from my thoughts. He cocks his head, a shy smile on his face.
“I think you are going to miss me”

I return his smile. “Yes, you
are right there. I will miss that goofy smile!” I playfully cup his face.

“Amber?” He bows his head, looking up at me through
thick brown lashes.

“Yes, trouble?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Can we keep in touch, you know, write and text? I-I-I think you know I like you.” He stumbles out the words, his handsome face blushing.

“I would like that very much, Aiden. Let me write down my address.” I reach for my bag to scribble my address. And I do want to keep in touch.

An hour later and I am walking through the car park with Aiden. His parents have arrived to collect him, and after hurried introductions, they are waiting by their car. We link arms playfully as we swing towards them. Suddenly, Aiden pulls me into a tight hug squeezing every breath from my lungs.

“I
will miss you, Amber. You will write to me, won’t you?” He breathes softly against my neck.

“I will. I promise. Now get going before you make me cry.” I pull away from him, a lump building in my throat.

He releases me, walking casually towards his parents. As he climbs into the back seat of the car, he shouts out as I turn away.

“I
will keep you up to date with the Major, Amber.”

I turn, sharply. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“Just because.” He smiles and shrugs slowly, his expression now sad. He closes the door behind him and I watch the car drive away.

***

Two Months Later

Hi Amber,

A quick letter because I’m knackered and really need sleep. It’s been three weeks since I’ve been back here at Helmand. Didn’t miss the heat and dust when I was with you at QEH in Birmingham! But glad to be back with the lads, I can’t lie.

Great news on getting a studio and gallery for yourself! Will come and visit you there for sure. You are a great artist and you deserve it. Don’t give Drew a hard time for wanting it for you. That is what older brothers do.

Major Grant is ok, I think. Seems to be kicking ass even harder since he got back here
this time around. The other night at meal break, I told him we were in touch, and writing to each other. He gave me a look like he was going to remove my head and use it for target practice. Moody fucker needs to find himself a woman!

Anyway, don’t go worrying about me. I’m ok. And stop watching all the news items and going on the websites about us. It will drive you mad, honey.

Take care, lovely lady

Aiden xx
 

***

Hi Aiden,

Thanks for the letter, and all the letters. I love reading them. I’m glad you are ok. Of course I worry about you. But I will ease up on the website and news, I promise.

The studio and gallery are going great. I know I should
not be mad at Drew but I can afford these things for myself. I just choose to do it on my own. Hey, I sold a piece yesterday. £650! And the guy said his wife would probably commission another piece in the near future.

Dr Rowe says to say hi. It is my last week at the unit next week. Mia and I are planning to do more work for The British Forces Foundation. I
will let you know we are up to.

I received a lovely card from your mum and dad this morning. What have you been telling them about me?!! It was a gorgeous, handmade silk painted Thank You card.

Oh, got to dash. Someone just walked into the gallery. Will write again soon. Try to ignore the moody Major. Probably work related and nothing to do with you.

Please take care. Be safe.

Amber xx

Chapter Nine

The Old Police Station
is a do-it-yourself Art centre in an architectural infrastructure, an occupation of the old Edwardian Deptford Police Station housing artist’s studios, cells for exhibition, independent project spaces, a radio station, band rehearsal studios and social spaces.

The last Friday of every month is DIRTY COP FRIDAY, the monthly social event and after-party for local late gallery openings with charity fundraising bar.

The Old Police Cell Block and Fingerprint Room compound has been occupied by a series of concept pop ups. These have included curated Supper Club, Speakeasy Cocktail Bar, Photographic Archive and Cafe.

To gain studio and gallery space here requires an application to be put onto a very long waiting list. Unless your name is Drew Templer and your brother, Jake, is engaged to Mia Fox
. You get the picture.

However, after my initial frustration at the intervention from Drew and Jake, I have to say I am delighted. I am in the heart of the most ‘happening’
Art scene in London, possibly Europe. And we are also raising money for charitable causes so I could not be happier.

***

I tuck
my letter to Aiden in the back pocket of my jeans and make my way through the corridors, past the ‘cells’ and out into gallery areas. Ray, one of the resident artists had interrupted my letter writing to tell me I am wanted in the gallery. A very expensive looking lady is stood enquiring about a sculpture Ray enthusiastically tells me. So here I am walking through the corridors ignoring the thoughts of Logan Grant that rush into my head every time I read a mention of him. It has been two months and he is still under my skin.

As I swing around the corner, I see the flash of red hair and instantly recognise my mysterious potential customer is Mia. Although I am always pleased to see her, I still need very sale I can get. So my heart sinks a little.

Turning at the sound of my footsteps, she rushes across to hug me tight. “Hey, Amber.”

“Hi, Mia. What are you doing here? Please don’t tell me you want to buy one of my pieces.
” I shake my head at her, raising a slightly irritated eyebrow.

She releases me, holding my at arm’s length, fawning hurt. “I
will buy one if I want. But that is not why I am here if you must know so you can put that eyebrow down and wipe the disappointed look off your face.” She drawls.

“So, you
are just visiting?” I smile, purposefully pulling the eyebrow down.

“Well, Jake is off buying my surprise birthday present
from Graff in Bond Street so I’m here about to take you to lunch if you will let me. I need to talk to you about something very important.”

I raise my hands in exasperation. “How do you know about Jake visiting Graff’s? And what is the important news?”

“Because my gorgeous fiancé left the brochures ‘hidden’ in his bedside drawer. The first place I would look for fuck’s sake! And the important news will happen over wine and food. Now where shall we eat? We have a car at our disposal so you choose. But make sure it is pasta. I’m starving!”

***

“I don’t think that is a good idea, in fact, it is
definitely
not a good idea” I take another sip of my coffee, clanging the cup into the saucer anxiously.

We are sat in Caravaggio.
Formerly opened by Luciano Pavarotti in 1996, Caravaggio still remains one of the firm favourites with the movers and shakers of the square mile. Occupying the imposing premises of what was formerly a banking hall, the space has been opened up to create a gallery which runs around the room at mezzanine level. It is my once a month treat with Ray. And I knew Mia will love it.

“Why is
it not a good idea?” Mia waves a frustrated hand, leaning inwards.

“You know why, Mia!
40 Commando is his unit. I might see him.” I can feel my anger bubbling at the surface. I cannot believe she would suggest such a thing.

“Yes, true. But you might see Aiden. Imagine how
he
would love that.” She bats away my anger as though it were an irritating fly.

“Don’t play that card, Mia. Please!” I feel a tear prick at my eye. Yes, Aiden would love to see me. Especially on a surprise visit to his camp in Helmand
!

Mia has become heavily involved with The British Forces Foundation. Having high profile people support a charity is always good. I know that. But now she has volunteered to photograph and document a
surprise gig by Sapphire and supporting artists for 40 Commando at their main operating base ‘Price’ in Helmand Province's Nahr-e Saraj district.

And she has bagged me a role as creative liaison.

“I’m not playing any card, Amber. Call it kill or cure. Intervention. Whatever. But it has been two months and you still have Logan Grant under your skin. And don’t lie and say you are over him. I know the signs. Jesus, your own brother had the same effect on me.” She leans forward to squeeze my hand. I snatch it away sullenly.

“So planting me in the middle of his camp in Afghanistan is going to resolve it. Are you
fucking
serious?” I spit out at her. “Drew and Jake must be furious with you, as am I!”

“Actually, if you ask them yourself, they think it is a very worthwhile cause and will boost the morale of the guys. Of course, they have concerns for your welfare over there but we will all be heavily supervised and protected the whole time.
As for seeing Logan or Aiden, you have no guarantee that it will happen. But if you do, then you will know if he has feelings for you and if he is worth fighting for.”