Third pint before closing time. That was what he needed. He got up again and checked his change, deciding that if there really was a curse of Thussock, he’d been well and truly blighted today. The other two drinkers had disappeared, though he couldn’t remember them going. The TV in the other room was still blaring. It sounded like a war movie now, all guns and noise and stirring music. Whatever it was, it seemed to be holding the landlord’s rapt attention. Watching the film was clearly more appealing than coming back and serving his one remaining customer. Either that or he’d fallen asleep in front of the box. Jeremy rapped the edge of a coin on the bar several times and coughed loudly, but his noise wasn’t having any effect. He doubted anyone could hear him.
There was a girl standing next to him. Where the hell had she come from? He physically jumped and swore with the sudden surprise, then immediately apologised. ‘Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me.’
‘Sorry,’ she said, her voice quiet, little more than a mumble.
‘I think he’s nodded off in there,’ Jeremy said, his composure returning, gesturing in the direction of the TV noise. ‘If he’s not back in the next two minutes, I’m just going to help myself.’ He was half joking, but he thought he would if he had to. They could just add it to his room tab.
The girl didn’t move. She was just standing there, leaning against the bar, looking at her own reflection in the mirror behind the row of optics. Jeremy tried not to stare but he couldn’t help studying her face. She was very young and attractive, her skin pale against the vivid purple of her jacket. He noticed that her legs were bare. She was either wearing the shortest of skirts or nothing at all below the waist. He looked at her face in the mirrors again, caught her looking back at him. Her lips were full and red, inviting… he stopped himself. What the hell did they put in that beer? He made himself look elsewhere and rapped the coin on the bar again. Bloody hell, he thought, get a grip… you’re old enough to be her father.
‘Can you help me?’ she asked, and there was something about her light, breathless voice which cut straight through him. He felt an immediate concern for her, an inordinate need to protect.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I’m really cold.’
He turned to look at her, taking a couple of subtle, shuffling steps back to increase his distance and not give the wrong impression. She did look cold. She was shivering, but that was hardly surprising given her lack of clothing. He felt uneasy, not knowing what would be worse: helping this girl and risking being accused of being a pervert, or leaving her shivering. Sod it. Look at her. Poor kid’s freezing.
Jeremy fetched his own coat from where he’d left it on the bench behind the table where he’d been sitting. He offered it to her, then carefully draped it over her shoulders, not wanting to make too much contact for fear of her – or anyone else, for that matter – getting the wrong impression. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, and she laid a hand on his and smiled the briefest of smiles.
‘Do you want a drink?’ Jeremy asked, hearing himself say things he knew he shouldn’t. ‘I could get you a tea or coffee if you’d rather? Warm you up? I’ll go to the kitchen and make it myself if no one comes to serve me in the next thirty seconds. This is a joke. It this what it’s always like here?’
He was rambling. Nervous. Excited.
She chewed her bottom lip and nodded.
‘You’re funny.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I like you.’
‘Thanks again.’
‘I’m still really cold.’
She was watching him intently now. She shifted her weight from foot to foot and when she moved he caught a glimpse of the rounded cheeks of her bare backside. He felt himself getting hard. Christ, he felt his heart burning for this kid now. He knew it was wrong on every conceivable level, but he wanted her so suddenly and so desperately… A comfort fuck with no strings – that’d do him the world of good tonight. She looked to be a similar age to Tammy, a little older, perhaps, and clinging onto that thought gave him a few brief seconds of clarity. But she smiled at him again and the burning – the wanting – returned, even stronger than before.
She moved along the bar, closing the gap he’d opened between them. Eyes locked. He focused on the sounds of her breathing. He could smell her. Almost taste her…
‘I’m staying here tonight,’ he said, screaming at himself to shut up but unable to stay silent. He felt awkward and clumsy… dirty. ‘I’ve got a room upstairs if you want to…’
She didn’t give him chance to finish. She lifted herself up on tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips. Then again. He felt her arms wrap around him. Then once more, with even more passion this time. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, slightly rough but completely perfect. And he reciprocated, no longer able to hold back. They kissed harder now. Full-on.
Jeremy broke away and glanced around. No one here. No one watching. She took his hand and led him over to the corner of the room. He tripped over a chair, only just managing to stay upright, the sudden unexpected movement almost bringing him to his senses. Almost. He was thinking he should definitely stop this, that this was just about the worst thing he could possibly do on every conceivable level, and yet he couldn’t do anything but go with everything this girl was doing. He couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop.
‘I don’t even know your name,’ he said between kisses, the girl still chewing his bottom lip.
‘Heather,’ she said, pushing him back onto a leather-padded bench behind a table in an alcove. The bench was too narrow and he slid off, crashing onto the floor and sending the table and another couple of chairs flying. He cracked his head back but the pain faded into insignificance compared to what this perfect girl was doing to him. He’d never done anything like this before, not ever. And Christ, it felt so good and so right… inevitable. He fumbled with his fly but she was already there and their fingers fought to be first to unzip him. He could feel her feather-light touch now, and the sensations were almost too much to stand. Lips still locked, limbs still entwined, she pulled out his dripping cock and guided it between her thighs. He grabbed at her jacket and unzipped it, revealing her completely naked body beneath it. Why isn’t she wearing anything? The question rattled around his head for the briefest of moments until he realised he didn’t care. Was this a set up? Something to do with Scott? Some unfathomably crazy local tradition? Was she going to rob him? Frame him? Kill him? No, she was just going to fuck him.
His fully erect cock slipped deep inside her and they fucked harder than he’d ever fucked anyone before.
23
Scott was still in bed, sleeping off the combined effects of the scotch Jeremy had brought around last night and the absolute fucker of an argument which had continued long after he’d gone. Michelle had almost drunk all her wine and she felt like finishing the last dregs this morning, rather than sober up. Her head was pounding, both as a result of the booze and how hard Scott had hit her this time. He’d slapped her right across the face back-handed, hard enough to loosen a tooth. She swallowed down a bilious sob: a nauseating mix of hangover and fear. Getting back into something resembling the drunken state she’d ended up in last night seemed like a good idea, an easier option. Far easier than dealing with the inevitable aftermath this morning.