He’d turned around, he wasn’t facing away from me anymore, he was leaning on the door frame, filling my doorway, looking big and gorgeous and so fucking handsome. Just a pair of plain black trousers and a white shirt, rolled up at the sleeves to just below his elbows, I could see the hint of a gold necklace at his throat, amongst the dark hairs that I could also see there. Instinctively my hand rose to my throat and I touched my own necklace, the one that had sat at my throat for the best part of six years. Sean, no, don’t do this to me, not right now!
Sean!
Sean!
Sean!
My brain screamed out at me.
They’re all just like Sean, Georgia, all of them.
Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off!
I literally had to shake my head to clear the conversation that was going on inside it. He stood in complete silence, filling my doorway, just watching me.
“Hey,” I eventually managed to say.
“Alright?” he replied, sounding like a right cockney geezer. He had the strangest way of talking. I’d been thinking about this last night whilst trying not to think about him, he had a strong East London accent, he dropped his H’s but he used words that most blokes from our neck of the woods didn’t. It made me wonder if he had received a private education, if he had attended a ‘posh’ school despite coming from where he did. Not that it mattered, coming from a working class background entitled you to a private education as much as the next person that could afford it, I was just curious, that was all.
“You look stunning,” he smiled slightly as he said it.
“Thank you, you look… well fuckin’ horny yourself.”
“Kitten, really? You’re all dressed up like a lady and talk like a brass.”
“And how would you know what a brass talks like Cam?” He’d pissed me off now, I hadn’t meant to swear, it just comes out. I grew up with three older brothers, they were just words to me, I managed to keep it under control at work, just, well most of the time, but out of work, they just slipped out and I was only trying to pay him a compliment.
“Because I’ve had to ask them to leave my establishments on more than one occasion, I don’t mind them coming in for a drink but I won’t have them turning tricks in my gaffs and they tend to get a bit lippy when asked to leave.”
“And I sound like one of them?” He sighs and shakes that gorgeous head of his.
“No Georgia, you don’t, I don’t know why I said that, it’s just that you look like such a lady and then you open your mouth and… ” he trails off.
“Well this is a great start, you’ve only been here two minutes and already you’re shaking your head and bollocking me for swearing.” I fold my arms across my chest and tap my foot as I look him up and down.
“Dya wanna leave it and go and find a posh bird to take out?”
“No, I don’t, anyway, posh birds swear too you know… come here.” I shake my head.
“You want me, then you’d best come here Tiger.”
“See, so fuckin’ frustrating, no wonder I shake my head, do you ever do as you’re told?”
“Nope.” I shrug, raise my eyebrows and give him my best ‘What?’ look.
He gives a big sigh, looks as though he’s about to shake his head, thinks about it for a split second, then stalks toward me, he reminds me of a wolf, his eyes narrowed as his big frame gets closer. He stands as close as he can without touching me, I deliberately keep my eyes straight ahead, staring into his chest, breathing in his scent, which just does unexplainable things to me, he uses his middle and index fingers to lift my chin, bringing my eyes level with his soft brown ones, I don’t want to return his gaze but I can’t resist.
“I’m going to kiss you Georgia, I’m going to kiss you and then we’re going to leave, because if we don’t leave the minute I stop kissing you, I’m going to drag you to your bedroom and fuck you senseless for the rest of the weekend.”
I don’t get chance to reply, shit, I don’t get chance to think too much before his soft full lips are on mine, gently at first, he tastes minty and fresh as I open my mouth slightly, his tongue slides along my bottom lip and plunges deep into my mouth, dancing, stroking and teasing mine. I reach up and grab his hair in both of my hands and give out a little moan as he licks the inside of my bottom lip, my moaning obviously has an effect on him as he cups my arse and pulls me into him, grinding against me, I can feel his erection pressing into my belly and I moan again.
“Fuck off making that noise Georgia before I stop being responsible for my actions.”
I want to do it again, I want to give out the tiniest of little moans but I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist if he initiates sex and I’m not sure if I’m ready to have sex with him. I want this to be different, I think I’m ready to try and have a relationship with him, if that’s what he wants and I would rather we establish a relationship before we start shagging. I step away from him.
“Let’s go.” He stills, even holding on to his breath, what did I say I wonder? Then I get it.
“Out I mean, let’s go out.” He thought I meant let’s go for it, bed, sex or whatever, shit that was close.
We drive into London and have dinner at a beautiful Italian restaurant in Knightsbridge, it’s very posh and there are a couple of photographers hanging about outside so it’s obviously somewhere that celebs hang out but the pap’s aren’t interested in the likes of us. The staff seem to know who Cam is though, greeting him by name and making a fuss while we are led to our table. We sit, chat and enjoy the food and the wine and each other’s company; I learn that he has a flat above the wine bar, making us neighbours. He has a flat in Islington and a house out in Stock, near Billericay but he doesn’t get out to it much because of work commitments. I’m not really sure what those commitments are as he’s a little evasive when I question him. We talk about my work and I explain how mine and my Mum’s business came about and how we got the name of Posh Frocks from what my Dad always called anything my Mum wore.
My heart began to hammer in my chest a little too hard when he asked about my brothers, it pounded in my throat, making it difficult to get air in and I thought I was going to have a full blown panic attack when he asked what Lennon and Marley did. I stared down at the table and tried to control my breathing, focusing on the food left on my plate, which is entirely the wrong thing to do, as the thought of food is adding to the nausea I’m starting to feel and the fear of being sick, starts adding to my panic. His hand reaches across the table to mine, where it’s clenched into a fist, gripping hold of my napkin; he takes it and uncurls my fingers.
“Georgia, its fine.” I slowly bring my eyes up to meet his and he dips his head slightly, shakes it and says, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it babe, tell me another time.” His deep voice is soft and gentle and I nod slightly as my breathing begins to slow.
This is ridiculous; I’ve been apart from Sean for almost four years. I haven’t seen him once in person in all that time and yet still, just the thought of explaining my brother’s involvement with Carnage and the fear of being questioned about the band has me hyperventilating. Fuck you Sean McCarthy, fuck you and what you’ve done to my life. As is always the case when I think of him, Sean, my hand goes to my throat, to my silver G that’s being held by angel wings. It sits there as a silent reminder of what was, what I had, what I lost. I need it, as painful as it is, I need to have that link with me at all times, a silent piece of him, as close to my heart as I’ve allowed anything to be over these past years. I pull my hand out from under Cam’s, pick up my napkin and cover my mouth.