The Vets (Stephen Leather Thrillers) (51 page)

She looked over her shoulder as she got to the middle of the room and felt a sudden rush of disappointment when she saw that Chung had his back to her and was closing the door.

“Anthony, this is lovely,” she said. She went over to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked down on green trees and bushes around a small pool. “This room really catches the sun, doesn’t it?” She turned to look at him.

“It has a good feeling,” he agreed. “I’m not so sure about the decor.”

“You don’t own it?” she asked.

“No, it’s leased. I reckon now is not a good time to own property in Hong Kong.” He shrugged. “You know the way it’s going, Anne. Nobody trusts the Chinese, and the property market is always the first to suffer.”

“Well, whoever did the interior design did a marvellous job. I love the coffee table. And the paintings are interesting.”

“Music?” asked Chung.

“Sure,” said Anne.

She watched Chung walk over to the CD player. He looked so good in Armani, she thought. He moved like a model. No, not a model, there was always something self-conscious about a male model on the catwalk. Chung seemed totally self-controlled, not caring if he was being watched or not. He was like an actor on a stage. She wondered why he hadn’t tried to kiss her. She thought he might have tried in the car, and then again when he opened the car door for her to get out. And when they were in the elevator she’d watched him out of the corner of her eye, expecting him to put his hands on her shoulders and draw her to him. He hadn’t and that had surprised her. When he’d opened the door to the apartment and she’d walked by him, she had half expected a kiss on the cheek, but he hadn’t made a move. He was the perfect gentleman, she thought, a little resentfully. She wouldn’t allow him to kiss her, of course, but she was a little put out that he didn’t even try.

Bryan Ferry’s voice filled the air, singing to a tune she couldn’t put a name to.

“Okay?” asked Chung.

“Fine,” said Anne.

She turned to look out of the window. She heard Chung’s footsteps and when she looked over her shoulder again, he’d gone. She swayed slowly in time with the music. She wanted to dance, and just then she wanted very much to dance with Anthony Chung. She knew instinctively that he would be a superb dancer. He had the body for it, the timing, and the confidence. He’d be superb in bed, too, she decided. The qualities that made a good dancer also made a good lover. She snorted and silently scolded herself for such stupid thoughts. William Fielding was the only man she’d made love to in almost a quarter of a century, and before him there were only two others. And one of them didn’t really count.

William had never been much of a dancer, she thought ruefully.

“Penny for them?” said Chung. She turned and smiled at him, shaking her head. He was holding out a glass of gin and tonic and she took it from him.

“Nothing,” she said. She sipped the drink, savouring the tang of the lime and the bursting freshness of the tonic bubbles against her nose. “You make a terrific gin and tonic,” she said.

“And you’re a connoisseur,” said Chung, raising his glass to her.

If William had said that, she would have taken it as a criticism and been wounded, but coming from Chung with his confident smile and raised eyebrow, it was funny. She clinked glasses with him. “To connoisseurs,” she said, and drank again. “Anthony, can I ask you something?” she said.

“Of course. Anything.”

“Have you slept with Debbie?” The question had come out in a rush and until she’d taken the second mouthful of gin and tonic Anne didn’t even know she was going to ask it. She must have had too much to drink. She kept her eyes fixed on Chung, waiting for him to answer.

He looked her straight in the eyes. “No,” he said, and shook his head.

She believed him, though she wasn’t sure why it mattered whether she believed him or not. He took the glass from her hand and placed it on the coffee table, and then before she knew what was happening he’d taken her in his arms. She raised her chin and opened her mouth slightly, but he didn’t kiss her, he began to dance with her, slowly guiding her around the floor. He danced well, exactly as she’d thought he would, guiding her with his strong arms. There was none of the faltering and fumbling there was with William when he insisted they lead the dancing at the bank’s annual Christmas party. The combination of the gin, the soft music, and the warmth of Chung’s body was hypnotic, and she closed her eyes. He held her close and without realising she was doing it she rested her head on his shoulder and sighed gently. She felt a light touch on the top of her head and she knew that he’d kissed her.

The hand around her waist pushed her ever so slightly and she pressed her thighs against his. She could feel him, hard, wanting her, and she pulled away but the hand was insistent and she allowed it to push her back. As they danced she moved her hips from side to side, rubbing against him and feeling him grow harder and bigger. Her mind was in turmoil. She didn’t want to betray her husband, she really didn’t. He’d been so good to her, so loyal, so trusting, she couldn’t be unfaithful to him. And Chung was her daughter’s boyfriend. Her daughter’s, for God’s sake. How would she ever be able to look Debbie in the eye again? Every fibre of her mind screamed that what she was doing was wrong, and that she was playing with fire, but she continued to press against him as Bryan Ferry sang. It had been so long since she’d felt a man against her, wanting her, wanting to possess her. It took William so long to get aroused, and it was never a success, hadn’t been for many years. Hadn’t been from the very start, she admitted to herself. William had never reacted in the way that Chung had. She rubbed her thigh harder against him and she felt him twitch. She felt a surge of power, knowing that it was up to her; she could break away, tell him that she had to go, and it would stop right there. She had proved to herself that she was still attractive and that she could arouse a young man like Chung. It would be a boost to her confidence, there was no need for her to take it any further. She moved her right hand up and down his broad back, feeling the muscles under the smooth material of his fitted jacket. She wondered how his flesh would feel, and how it would smell. She thought of how pale and unhealthy William’s skin appeared, how wrinkled it was around his waist, and how thin his arms were. He had long since stopped bothering about the state of his body, took no exercise and shunned the sun. She used to nag him, but in recent years she had given up. It was his own fault, she thought. He could have looked after himself better. He could have tried harder in bed. She’d asked him often enough, made suggestions, tried to take the lead. If he didn’t respond, well, that was his fault, not hers.

She pressed harder with the flat of her hand and his chest pushed against her breasts. She felt her nipples harden under the pressure but there was no embarrassment, she wanted Chung to know that he’d aroused her. She wanted him to know that she wanted him, that she was wet between her legs, that she was ready for him. She wasn’t going to do anything, she wasn’t going to take it any further, she just wanted him to know, that’s all.

She used her whole body against him: she nestled her head against his shoulder, rubbed his back with her hands, pressed her breasts against his chest and her thighs against his groin. She kept her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open. Just one more minute, she promised herself, one more minute of dancing and then she’d go home. Back to William. And to Debbie. She wanted so much to drop her hand, to slip it between his legs and feel him. She wanted to rub him and feel him grow, to know for certain the effect she had on him. Why hadn’t he kissed her properly? Why hadn’t he pushed back her head and pressed his lips to hers? She wanted to raise her head and look at him but she was frightened that he’d take that as a sign that she wanted him to kiss her. She didn’t want to lead him on. One more minute, she promised herself. One more minute and she’d go home.

She felt his hand slide up her back and gently stroke her hair. She put her hands on his shoulders and raised her head, pushing him away slightly. He smiled boyishly.

“Anthony,” she began, meaning to tell him that she wanted to go.

He raised one eyebrow. “Yes?” He made no move to kiss her or to pull her back to him. She knew that if she said she wanted to go, he’d let her. It was her choice.

“Anthony …” Her mind was spinning. She felt as if she was going to faint. She couldn’t betray her husband, but he didn’t deserve her loyalty. She was almost fifty years old and she’d never enjoyed sex, never had the sort of adventures Phyllis Kelley had. She could practically count the number of orgasms she’d had on the fingers of one hand. It wasn’t fair. She’d soon be too old, it wouldn’t be long before no one would find her sexy and she and William would settle down to a quiet old age. “Anthony … why don’t you show me the rest of your apartment?”

She hadn’t meant to say it, she really had planned to tell him that she was going, but once she’d spoken she felt flushed with excitement. Her stomach went liquid, knowing that she’d just offered herself to Chung, knowing that she was going to touch him, kiss him, explore his body and enjoy him. For one moment of panic she thought that he was going to refuse her, but then he smiled and led her by the hand to a door at the far end of the room. She could hardly walk, her legs were trembling so much. William Fielding had been the only man to see her naked for almost twenty-five years, never mind make love to her. She felt strange, as if her body no longer belonged to her. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears and she could hardly breathe. The door seemed to loom larger and larger ahead of her, and she knew that if she went through it her life would never be the same again. It wasn’t too late, she could still back out and go back to her husband an honest woman. William would never know.

She pulled at Anthony’s hand and he stopped. He looked at her without speaking. Her eyes involuntarily dropped to his groin. She could see how aroused he was. His chest was rising and falling and he licked his lips.

“Anthony …” she said, her voice sounding husky with passion.

He stepped forward and held her and she rubbed herself against him again, harder this time. She wanted him to make the decision for her, to grab her and take her so that she could tell herself that he’d forced her, but she could tell that he wouldn’t do that. He was leaving it to her. “Anthony …” she said. His deep brown eyes looked right into her and her heart melted. “Anthony, nobody must ever know,” she said, quietly.

He shook his head. “Nobody ever will, Anne,” he said. “I promise.”

“Nobody must ever know,” she repeated, quieter this time.

He didn’t reply a second time, he just bent down slightly and swept her up off her feet. She put her arms around his neck as he carried her into the bedroom and kicked the door closed behind him with his heel. The drapes were drawn to block out the afternoon sun and it was dark inside.

Chung carried her over to the bed and laid her down, then bent to switch on a lamp. It was a soft light which illuminated the bed but not the corners of the room. It was a light to make love by. William never made love with the light on, he said it made him feel uncomfortable. Anne had no qualms about showing her body to Chung, she knew she looked good, and she wanted to see him. She looked up at Chung as he took off his jacket and hung it on the handle of one of the louvred doors of the closets behind him. She didn’t know what to do, whether she should help him undress or take off her own clothes. At home she and William had their own bathrooms, and she couldn’t remember the last time he had tried to undress her. She sat up, slipped off her jacket and let it slide off the bed as she reached out her hand to stroke his shirt. It was silk and felt slippery under her fingers. She felt a hard button and she undid it and then slipped her hand inside. His skin felt dry and warm. As he took off his tie she undid several more of his buttons and then she stood up and put her arms around his waist, under his shirt. She slipped off her high heels and stood on tiptoe, offering her mouth to him. He bent his neck and kissed her, softly at first, and then with passion, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She gasped. William had never kissed her like that. Ever. She tasted him and sucked on his tongue as it invaded her, and she made small grunting noises. Eventually she couldn’t breathe and she broke away, panting, but Chung grabbed her and kissed her hard. She allowed her right hand to slide down his chest until it came to the belt of his trousers. She couldn’t believe what she was doing. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that she would be unfaithful to her husband. She undid the belt and opened the top of his trousers. She had only ever touched two men there. She wanted Chung to know that, she wanted him to know that she wasn’t like Phyllis Kelley. She moved her hand slowly, almost frightened to touch his flesh. He was wearing silk boxers that slid against his hardness. She held him first through the silk, rubbing the material up and down, grasping him so hard that he gasped.

She felt one of his hands pull down the zip of her dress and then his hands eased the material down over her shoulders. It slid down and caught on her hips but she wiggled her legs and it fell to the floor. She released him and helped him off with his shirt, kissing his nipples and scratching his chest with her nails. He put his hands behind her back and unclipped her bra, and she shook her shoulders as it came away. His hands reached for her breasts and he held her nipples, caressing them so that they hardened. She sighed as he bent and kissed both breasts, light touches of the lips, nothing more. Anne groaned. The last person to kiss her breasts had been Debbie when she was ten months old. The thought made her sad but it lasted for less than a second because Chung’s right hand moved down her stomach and slid under her panties. His index finger stroked her hair and then slipped between her legs. God, she hadn’t realised how wet she was. The sensation of him inside her sent chills down her back and with both hands she pushed down his boxer shorts and reached for him. He felt huge, and he continued to grow as she stroked him. He felt much bigger than William, bigger than she’d imagined a man could ever be. She looked down but he was standing so close she couldn’t see him. In one smooth movement Chung pushed her tights and panties down then he gently eased her back on to the bed and slipped them off her feet. He watched her as he kicked off his trousers and shorts and removed his socks. He stood naked before her, the light casting shadows across his face. For the first time she could see how big he was. He stepped forward and she opened her legs, assuming that he was going to lie on top of her. She reached up with her arms, wanting to enfold him and take him inside her, but he smiled and gently turned her over so that she was lying on her stomach. She tried to turn, wanting to see him, but his hands held her firmly. She could see across the room to a low dressing-table of white wood and two matching stools. The bed was very feminine, with a brass frame with a thick dark purple quilt and big, fluffy pillows in purple cases. She wanted to imprint everything on to her memory, she never wanted to forget this afternoon. It would be her one and only fling, she’d already decided.