Rachel's Holiday
Page 64
He wasn’t amused.
‘Go on,’ he said, in a tone that I found frighteningly compelling. ‘Take it off.’
My throat tightened with fear. I wasn’t coked-up or drunk enough for this kind of thing. The only reason Luke was in my flat at all was because Brigit abandoned me to his mercy in the Llama Lounge. Nadia told her that the Cuban Heel had been sighted in Z Bar, so she joyously left to flush him out.
I had tried hard to leave with her but she wouldn’t let me. ‘You stay here,’ she said wickedly, suddenly in great humour. She winked, nodded her head at Luke and said ‘But watch that fella, keep your hand on your ha ’penny’ And off she danced, thinking she was great, leaving me staring bitterly after her.
A few minutes later, I tried again to escape, but Luke insisted with very firm gallantry that he would buy me a drink and then walk me home. And, when we got to my apartment and he invited himself in for coffee, I tried to refuse but couldn’t.
‘The dress,’ he said, again. ‘Take it off.’
I put down the kettle that I’d been filling. He meant business, I could hear it in his voice.
‘Open the top button,’ he said.
That’s when I should have shown him the door. This wasn’t a game, this was grown-up stuff and I was afraid.
But, instead, I lifted my hand to my neckline… then wavered… and stopped.
To hell with this, I thought, I’m not standing in my kitchen and taking my dress off for Luke Costello.
‘Or I’ll come over there and do it for you,’ he said, with quiet menace.
Quickly, fearfully, I found myself fumbling with the button and I opened it, unable to believe what I was doing.
Something was wrong with my Outrage switch – why wasn’t I picking up the phone and calling the cops? Instead of just feeling relieved to be wearing the short, sexy Alaia dress?
‘Now the next one,’ he said softly. He was watching me with half-closed eyes.
I could feel excitement churn in my stomach. With shaking fingers I opened the next button.
‘Keep going,’ he said, with another scary, sexy smile.
With him watching me intently, I couldn’t stop myself from slowly undoing the buttons one by one until they were all open. Mortified, I clutched the dress closed across my stomach. ‘Take it off,’ he said.
I didn’t move.
‘I said,’ he threatened softly. ‘Take. It. Off.’
The pause dragged on for a long, silent time. Until, embarrassed, defiant, but unable to stop myself, I shook the dress off my shoulders and arms, and held it out to him.
For once I was wearing a decent bra; a nice black lace one that had only one small hole. I’d never have taken the dress off otherwise. And, although my knickers were a different pattern from the bra, at least they were black lace too. I dipped my head so that as much of my hair as possible fell forward to cover my shoulders and breasts. Too late, I realized that the small hole in my bra was quite a big one and that it had fitted itself neatly around my nipple. A do-it-yourself peep-hole bra.
Luke reached out and took the dress, not letting his hand touch mine, and threw it on the counter behind him. Our eyes met and something flickered across his face that made me shiver. Even though the night was warm, I had goosepimples.
‘Now, what will I do with you?’ He looked at me appraisingly, as if I was a prize cow. I wanted to squirm and hide but I forced myself to stand straight, hold my stomach in and stick my chest out. I even thought about putting one hand on a hip, but found I couldn’t be that brazen.
‘What will I get you to take off next?’
Laughably enough, my first fear was for my shoes; I didn’t want to lose them because they were high and made my legs look long and slim. Well, not as fat as they usually looked, in any case.
‘OK, take off your bra.’
‘Oh no!’
‘Oh, yes, I’m afraid.’ He gave a lazy, mocking smile.
We stared across the kitchen at each other, me flushed with shame and arousal. I suddenly caught sight of the tell-tale bulge in his jeans and found my hands reaching round my back to open the clasp.
But after I’d unclipped it I became paralysed, I couldn’t do any more about taking it off.
‘Go on,’ he said authoritatively, when he noticed I’d come to a halt.
‘I can’t,’ I said.
‘OK,’ he said, suddenly compassionate. ‘Just move one of the straps down your arm.’
Mesmerized by his unexpected gentleness, I did what he told me.
‘Now the other one,’ he said.
Once again, I found myself obeying.
‘Now give it to me,’ he ordered.
As I held out my arm to hand him the bra, my breasts wobbled and I caught him looking at them. I had a brief flare of awareness of how much he wanted me.
Then it was back to feeling that mixture of humiliation and sick excitement.
‘Now come here and do what you did to me at your party,’ he ordered.
I felt a wash of shame and didn’t move.
‘Come here,’ he said again.
Automaton-like, I walked towards him, my eyes lowered.
‘You see, you and I,’ he said, taking my hand roughly and moving it towards his groin, ‘have some unfinished business.’
I squirmed and turned. ‘Now, now,’ he chided, as I tried to pull my hand away.
‘No,’ I said again, looking at the floor.
‘You’re starting to repeat yourself,’ he mocked.
His fingers were on my wrist, my nipples swung against the rough fabric of his shirt, but that was the only contact between our two bodies. He seemed to be deliberately holding himself away from me. And I was far too frightened of this big, strange man to lean against him. I couldn’t even look at him.
‘Go on,’ he said, as he tried to move my bunched-up fist against the long bulge of his erection. ‘Finish what you started last Saturday’
I cringed with embarrassment and felt queasy with arousal. I didn’t want to touch his penis, I didn’t want to stroke his erection through his jeans.
‘Bet you Daryl didn’t have one of these,’ he said nastily, still moving my hand against him.
I was mortified. I’d forgotten that Luke had seen me with Daryl. I realized he must think I was a right whore so I tried to pull away.
‘Oh no,’ Luke laughed unpleasantly. ‘No more playing games. Men don’t like it when you tease.’
‘Go on,’ he said, in a tone that I found frighteningly compelling. ‘Take it off.’
My throat tightened with fear. I wasn’t coked-up or drunk enough for this kind of thing. The only reason Luke was in my flat at all was because Brigit abandoned me to his mercy in the Llama Lounge. Nadia told her that the Cuban Heel had been sighted in Z Bar, so she joyously left to flush him out.
I had tried hard to leave with her but she wouldn’t let me. ‘You stay here,’ she said wickedly, suddenly in great humour. She winked, nodded her head at Luke and said ‘But watch that fella, keep your hand on your ha ’penny’ And off she danced, thinking she was great, leaving me staring bitterly after her.
A few minutes later, I tried again to escape, but Luke insisted with very firm gallantry that he would buy me a drink and then walk me home. And, when we got to my apartment and he invited himself in for coffee, I tried to refuse but couldn’t.
‘The dress,’ he said, again. ‘Take it off.’
I put down the kettle that I’d been filling. He meant business, I could hear it in his voice.
‘Open the top button,’ he said.
That’s when I should have shown him the door. This wasn’t a game, this was grown-up stuff and I was afraid.
But, instead, I lifted my hand to my neckline… then wavered… and stopped.
To hell with this, I thought, I’m not standing in my kitchen and taking my dress off for Luke Costello.
‘Or I’ll come over there and do it for you,’ he said, with quiet menace.
Quickly, fearfully, I found myself fumbling with the button and I opened it, unable to believe what I was doing.
Something was wrong with my Outrage switch – why wasn’t I picking up the phone and calling the cops? Instead of just feeling relieved to be wearing the short, sexy Alaia dress?
‘Now the next one,’ he said softly. He was watching me with half-closed eyes.
I could feel excitement churn in my stomach. With shaking fingers I opened the next button.
‘Keep going,’ he said, with another scary, sexy smile.
With him watching me intently, I couldn’t stop myself from slowly undoing the buttons one by one until they were all open. Mortified, I clutched the dress closed across my stomach. ‘Take it off,’ he said.
I didn’t move.
‘I said,’ he threatened softly. ‘Take. It. Off.’
The pause dragged on for a long, silent time. Until, embarrassed, defiant, but unable to stop myself, I shook the dress off my shoulders and arms, and held it out to him.
For once I was wearing a decent bra; a nice black lace one that had only one small hole. I’d never have taken the dress off otherwise. And, although my knickers were a different pattern from the bra, at least they were black lace too. I dipped my head so that as much of my hair as possible fell forward to cover my shoulders and breasts. Too late, I realized that the small hole in my bra was quite a big one and that it had fitted itself neatly around my nipple. A do-it-yourself peep-hole bra.
Luke reached out and took the dress, not letting his hand touch mine, and threw it on the counter behind him. Our eyes met and something flickered across his face that made me shiver. Even though the night was warm, I had goosepimples.
‘Now, what will I do with you?’ He looked at me appraisingly, as if I was a prize cow. I wanted to squirm and hide but I forced myself to stand straight, hold my stomach in and stick my chest out. I even thought about putting one hand on a hip, but found I couldn’t be that brazen.
‘What will I get you to take off next?’
Laughably enough, my first fear was for my shoes; I didn’t want to lose them because they were high and made my legs look long and slim. Well, not as fat as they usually looked, in any case.
‘OK, take off your bra.’
‘Oh no!’
‘Oh, yes, I’m afraid.’ He gave a lazy, mocking smile.
We stared across the kitchen at each other, me flushed with shame and arousal. I suddenly caught sight of the tell-tale bulge in his jeans and found my hands reaching round my back to open the clasp.
But after I’d unclipped it I became paralysed, I couldn’t do any more about taking it off.
‘Go on,’ he said authoritatively, when he noticed I’d come to a halt.
‘I can’t,’ I said.
‘OK,’ he said, suddenly compassionate. ‘Just move one of the straps down your arm.’
Mesmerized by his unexpected gentleness, I did what he told me.
‘Now the other one,’ he said.
Once again, I found myself obeying.
‘Now give it to me,’ he ordered.
As I held out my arm to hand him the bra, my breasts wobbled and I caught him looking at them. I had a brief flare of awareness of how much he wanted me.
Then it was back to feeling that mixture of humiliation and sick excitement.
‘Now come here and do what you did to me at your party,’ he ordered.
I felt a wash of shame and didn’t move.
‘Come here,’ he said again.
Automaton-like, I walked towards him, my eyes lowered.
‘You see, you and I,’ he said, taking my hand roughly and moving it towards his groin, ‘have some unfinished business.’
I squirmed and turned. ‘Now, now,’ he chided, as I tried to pull my hand away.
‘No,’ I said again, looking at the floor.
‘You’re starting to repeat yourself,’ he mocked.
His fingers were on my wrist, my nipples swung against the rough fabric of his shirt, but that was the only contact between our two bodies. He seemed to be deliberately holding himself away from me. And I was far too frightened of this big, strange man to lean against him. I couldn’t even look at him.
‘Go on,’ he said, as he tried to move my bunched-up fist against the long bulge of his erection. ‘Finish what you started last Saturday’
I cringed with embarrassment and felt queasy with arousal. I didn’t want to touch his penis, I didn’t want to stroke his erection through his jeans.
‘Bet you Daryl didn’t have one of these,’ he said nastily, still moving my hand against him.
I was mortified. I’d forgotten that Luke had seen me with Daryl. I realized he must think I was a right whore so I tried to pull away.
‘Oh no,’ Luke laughed unpleasantly. ‘No more playing games. Men don’t like it when you tease.’
