As Good As Guitars Ch. 16

June 2012

It takes me a few months to properly settle in London. My new job is great - the people are lovely and I'm enjoying the work, but the pace of life is so much faster that at first I feel swamped almost all the time. Although I'd come up often to visit Gil, I hadn't really appreciated the difference that actually living here makes.

On the recommendation of a friend, I'm living in a house share in Putney with three Kiwi housemates - two guys and another girl. They're welcoming, but they've been living together for a year already and it's a while before I don't feel like I'm intruding on their group.

I find myself leaning on Gil more, missing him desperately when he's away training and grateful that the season proper doesn't start until March. But I begin to make new friends and reconnect with old ones, and finally it all comes together. By May I'm wondering how I ever lasted in Somerset for so long.

I'm also wondering how on earth Gil keeps track of his insane schedule. In early June he takes part in the Criterium du Dauphine, using the race as preparation for the Tour. Although he's heading off to a final training camp in Italy three days after that, he's planning to fly back to London for the two nights in between. I've gotten into the habit of meeting him at the airport so that we get the extra time together. His plane's due in at 6 this evening, and at 2pm I'm finishing up the last thing on my to-do list when my phone rings.

It's my editor. "Leigh, I don't care what you're doing, drop it. Mourinho's just offered a hundred million euros for Messi, and Barça have said they'll consider it. Press conference in an hour - get down there."

That's not the kind of instruction I need to hear twice. I check my kit, grab my bag, and run.

~

The story runs as that night's lead. It's my name in the byline, and I'm still on a high when the taxi drops me off at Gil's flat just before ten o'clock. I'd managed to leave a voicemail for him saying I wouldn't be at the airport, but after that it got so frantic that I've not looked at my phone since.

I needn't have worried - when Gil opens his door he's beaming. "Well done you, your first major story. I'm so proud." He pulls me into a hug and nuzzles into my neck. "There's fizz in the fridge."

He's only wearing jeans, and when his body moves against mine I'm suddenly horny, wanting him so badly my legs feel weak. "I might not make it that far. I don't think I can walk."

He looks confused for a second, until his face clears and I see mischief brewing. "Young lady, are you saying that now you're a hot-shot writer you expect me to fetch and carry for you?"

My voice is haughty. "Why yes, serf, I am. Make yourself useful and take me through to the bedroom. I have needs I expect you to satisfy."

He picks me up. "So do I, m'lady, so do I."

He drops me on the bed unceremoniously and starts to undress me before I can work out which way is up. It only takes seconds before I'm naked and he's straddling me, looking down at me thoughtfully.

I bat at his leg. "Unhand me, you brute. Let me up this instant."

Gil smiles. "Oh no, I don't think so. I think I like you right where you are - underneath me and begging."

We don't play like this very often, but when we do it's always fun. Unthinkingly I lift my hips, wanting to feel his body on mine. He grins as he watches me move, then very deliberately unbuckles his belt and slides it free. My mouth is suddenly dry as he uses it to tie my wrists together and then to the headboard. I wriggle frantically, pretending to want to escape and trying not to grin.

"There, that's much better. Now I can have my wicked way with you... Us brutes do like to have our wicked way, you know." He kisses me, gently at first but then with more passion as I push up against him. I'm panting when he pulls away.

"Tell me, do hot-shot writers taste any different?" His mouth is on my nipple and I moan as he suckles. The sensation drives straight down to my clit and I know I'm getting wet. "Hmm... that one tastes the same..." He moves to my other breast, nipping and teasing while I writhe beneath him.

"Please..." I'm almost beyond coherent thought.

Gil sits up. "Please what, m'lady? Would you like me to let you up?" He's grinning, enjoying the tease.

I swallow. "No - I don't want you to stop. I want to come."

He looks down at me. "I can tell. You're all flushed, your eyes are glazed, you can't stop wriggling... Would you like me to touch you?"

I nod, feeling slightly self-conscious.

His hand moves out of sight behind him as he strokes my inner thigh. I open my legs and his fingers inch up my thigh, torturously slowly. "Is this what you want? Or maybe... maybe I should use my tongue... lick you so gently you can barely feel it. Would you like that? I could slide two fingers into you at the same time - I can feel you grip when I do that. You have no idea how hot that is."

There's a strange humming noise in my ears, and it takes me a second to work out that it's me making it. I don't seem to be able to speak.

He clears his throat, just as turned on as I am. "Of course, as you are now a very important hot-shot writer, what I should do is worship at your feet with the appropriate reverence. It would be remiss of me just to make you come straight away, wouldn't it? I should draw the experience out - make it last."

I shake my head frantically. "Please..."

He deliberately misunderstands me. "Oh, you like that idea? Would waiting an hour be long enough to satisfy you, m'lady? I'm not sure I could hold out much longer than that, although I can try."

"Don't make me wait... please let me come. Please, Gil."

He lifts his hand and moves down the bed, dropping his head close to my body. Still he holds off touching me, although he's close enough that I can feel his warm breath on my skin. I lift my hips, and finally he takes pity on me.

I'm so ready for him that when he touches me I nearly scream. Dimly I'm aware his fingers are inside me and that my back has arched so violently I'll ache tomorrow, but all that really exists is the tiny patch of skin under his tongue. His tongue dances relentlessly on my clit and the heat rises through my body until it feels like I could float up off the bed. The impeding orgasm unfurls rapidly, and when it hits it's like an electric shock to every nerve-ending.

Although I've seen stars I'm somehow not quite satisfied. Gil hasn't moved his tongue away, and tentatively I push up to him, not sure what I want, just knowing that I want something. But as if I've given him a clear instruction he starts licking at me again, his fingers still moving inside me. This time the build-up is a slow burn, and when I come a second time it's just as powerful as the first.

After a moment Gil lifts his head. "Again, m'lady?"

I've never come twice like that before, not even by myself. "I don't know if I can."

He smiles. "Relax and we'll find out." He drops his head to me again, his tongue gentle. All my pent-up tension's spent and to start with it's nothing more than a pleasant diversion, but slowly I begin to feel the desire rising again. He slides two fingers into me, teasing me, and then I feel a finger drift lower and slide into me there too. It makes me feel slutty and wanton and I lift my hips again, wanting to feel used.

His tongue never stops moving and my clit is tender, but I don't want him to stop. There's a sudden sharp pang when his stubble chafes against me, but even that somehow turns into pleasure and I push up against him harder. I imagine him biting on my nipples, adding an extra level of torment, and then suddenly that's enough and I'm coming a third time, this time so hard and for so long that I lose track of reality, spinning off into the void in a whirl of pleasure.

I wake up curled under the duvet, my wrists free and Gil sat beside me reading quietly. When he sees me move he puts the book down and kisses me. "You were out like a light. We should try that again next time you can't sleep."

I sit up, stretching. I feel relaxed but achy at the same time, as if I've been for a long run. "Yes please. That beats Nytol any day."

He kisses me again. "Good. You hungry?"

Now I think about it, I am. In the kitchen Gil produces the promised fizz along with oysters, brown bread and butter. He's smiling quietly to himself.

"What is it?"

"I was thinking we'd want these before I seduced you, not afterwards. I didn't think you'd jump me quite that quickly."

"Are you complaining?" I suddenly realise that he hasn't come yet, and try not to feel guilty.

"Not at all. Will you butter the bread if I shuck these?"

I do as I'm told, watching him work. His hands move confidently, doing his bidding as quickly and neatly as the rest of his body always does. Idly I wonder what it's like to be so sure of your physical capabilities.

He looks up. "My turn. Penny for them?"

"How did you know what to do - what I wanted? I started off bossing you about, but when you turned the tables it made me even hornier. And I didn't think I could come a third time, but that was the best one."

He puts the knife down. "I just pay attention, that's all. I like to make you happy."

He looks uncomfortable, making me wonder if he's thinking about Olivia. I'm sure she's responsible for a lot of his skill and unstinting generosity in bed - and I realise that finally I'm okay with that, and with her. I put the plates on the table, and we sit down to eat. "Gil, can I ask something else?"

"Sure."

"How does you being submissive with Olivia mesh with you being dominant with me?"

He's staring at me, and I have no idea why. "What?"

"That's the first time you've ever said her name. It sounded odd hearing it."

When I think about it, I know he's right. "Well, maybe I've relaxed a bit - three orgasms will do that to a girl. Answer the question."

He smiles, smug. "Yes m'lady. I guess just because I prefer one thing doesn't mean I can't do the other. It's not like I don't know how to be the boss... I am at work often enough. And you like it, so it's easy enough to play along. I don't know if I'd be any good at pain play, but tying you up and teasing you is fun."

I'm smiling too. "And you're very good at it." His comment about pain surprises me - not what he's said, but that he said it at all. I don't think I've ever had any desire to be hurt, it's never really crossed my mind. But then I remember imagining him biting my nipples, and I wonder.

~

That night I'm woken by a shout. I'm deeply asleep and dreaming, and my heart races as I try to work out exactly what's going on. At first, when I hear Gil mumbling, I think he's awake - until he cries out again and starts to thrash about, tangling the sheets around his legs. When I turn the light on he doesn't react.

I lean over him, shaking his shoulder. "Gil... wake up, Gil. You're having a nightmare. Come on sweetie..." He suddenly wakes up, his eyes wide with terror. He sits up and I put my arm around him, still talking, waiting for him to work out what's going on. Slowly his fright fades, and mine with it.

"I dreamt we were in Cornwall and you drowned in the pool. I could see it happen, but I couldn't save you." His eyes are wet and I hold him tight.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I didn't drown... I'm right here. It was just a bad dream. You don't have to worry."

He looks up at me, suddenly looking very young and unsure. "I do worry, though. When you weren't at the airport this afternoon... I didn't get your message straight away, and for a moment I thought you wouldn't be coming."

"What? Why on earth would you think that?"

He squirms, embarrassed. "It's just that... when you first moved up you wanted to see me whenever you could. Now you're always busy, having fun with your friends or doing something important at work... And I'm away so much of the time." He takes a shaky breath. "I'm scared you won't want me any more."

"Oh Gil. You idiot, of course I want you." A thought occurs to me. "Is that why you made so much effort this evening?"

"Partly. I want you to enjoy being with me."

I turn his head so that he has to look at me. "Gil, I want to be with you. Even when things aren't perfect. Even when they're shitty. Remember how unhappy we were last November? I'm still here, aren't I?"

He nods reluctantly.

He sleeps naked, and I can see hard muscles under smooth skin, a combination that always turns me on. His expression changes as he realises what I'm thinking about, and without saying anything he leans forward and kisses me.

After a moment he pulls away. "I thought you were dead. Your hair was floating on the water." He tugs my plait gently, then abruptly pushes me back onto the bed. His hands snatch at my t-shirt, undressing me with panicky haste. Equally eager, I push my body up against him. I can feel his erection and lift my leg, allowing him to slide into me. His urgency is a turn-on and I'm already wet, but he drives into me hard and I can't help gasping at the intrusion. His hands grab at me frantically as he rolls me onto my back. He's thrusting at the same time as he's gripping my shoulders and I'm caught beneath him. I can't do anything but try and meet him halfway. In less than a minute it's over - he cries out as he comes, then collapses onto me.

For a long time all I can hear is Gil's breathing as his head rests on my shoulder. "Wow... That made the nightmares go away."

I've been thinking. "How would you like something that might keep them away?"

He lifts his head and looks down at me. "What d'you mean?"

"I'll move in with you. If you'll still have me, that is."

His face lights up like a child's on Christmas morning. "Leigh... of course. Really?"

I can't help laughing. "Really."