Goodbye Girl Ch. 01

She went downstairs for water. Best to avoid any more temptation. The pub was busier than it had been when they'd arrived earlier. It was one of the few places with a late license so it tended to fill up at about half ten. She was pushing through the crowds towards the bar when she caught sight of Tim. She froze. He was with that Nigel bloke from work. She hot footed it back to the stairs and pressed herself against the wall behind the doorway. A couple she didn't recognise gave her a funny look as they squeezed past. She inched around the corner and peeked across the bar. Yup it was him alright. It didn't seem like he'd spotted her.

Back upstairs, she reached for her drink and took a big gulp. The glass went from full to almost empty. She checked the door. No sign of Tim. She didn't want to see Tim now, not even for a moment. Not drunk. Not in this dress. He'd think she was out on the pull. She wasn't in the mood for him flying into another of his rages. She sighed. She'd been having fun before he showed up.

She could walk back into town and then get the bus home.

She looked at the time; no she couldn't. The buses stopped running twenty minutes ago. He could have at least turned up early enough for her to make her escape. She couldn't afford to get a taxi, not with the state her current account was in.

Think Orla think.

She could go back to Rachel's and wait in her car till she was sober enough to drive?

Vanessa reappeared. The urgency in Orla's voice snagged her attention immediately. Orla pulled Vanessa by the arm, towards to the cloakroom, so they could hear each other over the din of the music.

"Tim's here, he just showed up." Her words come out in a rush.

Vanessa looked around. "Where?"

"Not up here, down there, in the pub. He's with some bloke from work."

"I told Dave we were coming tonight. Maybe he said something?"

"I need to get out of here."

"I'll go and tell the others we're leaving. Get the keys from Rach" Vanessa said.

Orla smiled. "Thanks Ness."

Rachel and the guy she was chatting to both nodded understandingly. When Vanessa went of to look for the others Rachel took out her phone. Orla's heart sank. They were swapping numbers. It seemed like they were all leaving. She didn't have time for this. She needed to get out of here now. She pulled her coat out from where she'd hidden it behind a speaker and pulled it on and started towards the exit. She didn't know where she was going, or what she was going to do when she got there but she was leaving. Now.

As she reached the stairs, she almost walked into the copper. Their eyes met and he smiled. It was a good-natured smile; a 'well I gave it my best shot' sort of smile. He had a nice smile.

Why was she denying herself this attraction? So what if she was just out of a break up. So what if she fancied the mysterious dark haired copper with the nice eyes. Tim was already certain she was sleeping with someone else, she might as well give him a reason to be. Before she had a chance to talk herself out of it, she grabbed the cop's shirt and pulled him so his face was close enough for her to press her lips against his.

At first he was so stunned he didn't react but after a moment his hands snaked around her waist and kissing her back and the delicious feeling of being pressed up against him was back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in so she could talk directly into his ear.

"Are you going home?" Orla almost didn't recognise her voice, it was at least an octave lower than normal.

"I was going to leave, yes."

She gazed into his eyes "Take me with you."

He pulled back, so he could get a better look at her, his puzzled expression would have been amusing, except that her earlier bravado had melted away, and she was terrified that he might say no, or that Tim was about to appear. She didn't want a scene. She just wanted get out of there, and to pursue this thing, this burning attraction she had for this guy.

He was still studying her face.

She didn't have time for this. Pressing her body up against his she grabbed his face in both of her hands and she kissed him with everything she had.

Greg didn't need to be asked again. He grabbed Orla by the hand and they started towards the exit. As the night air hit them she pulled her flimsy jacket tighter. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his side.

"You okay?" He asked.

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, and nodded.

They clambered into the first of a small line of taxis waiting outside the pub. Orla looked like she was about to speak but she bit her lip instead.

"I'm Greg," he said, with a wry smile.

"Orla."

"I know, you told me at the bar remember?"

"Yes, I did, well done." Lifting her finger she pointed at nothing in particular and added "You must have been concentrating. Ten out of ten."

Greg laughed.

The driver looked over his shoulder. "Where to?"

Orla didn't respond so he rattled off his own address and the taxi pulled forward.

They kissed again. He couldn't get enough of her.

When he came up for air, neither of them spoke for a moment. They just gazed into each other's eyes, as the anticipation grew between them.

"Did you know that you have the most amazing eyes?" Orla told him.

He laughed "You're really not filtering anything that's coming out of your mouth are you?"

Orla's returning laughter was rich and melodic and Greg's chest constricted. He looked out of the window. They were nearly at his place.

~

Orla leaned against the wall by the door while Greg found his keys. It was cold and her stomach was knotted tight. He gave her that look again, the puzzled one, as he put the key in the door. Then he held it open so she could step inside.

She didn't remember how they'd got there but they were on the sofa, kissing. It felt good, really good. His kisses were gentle but assertive. He held her jaw and with his thumb on her chin and coaxed her lips open. Then he found her waist and pressed her gently against the sofa as he explored her mouth with his tongue.

She could have done this forever. She was putty in his hands. Except whenever she started to lose herself in the moment her hunger pulled her back. She needed more. She wanted to feel his skin against her own, his naked body pressing against hers. She wanted to feel him filling her. A small voice in her head was quietly reminding her that this wasn't the kind of thing she did. She hardly knew this guy, it was too soon; she was on the rebound. That it wasn't a good idea. But then another crashing wave of desire washed over her and she was too aroused to take any notice of the voice any more.

She pulled herself up, and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. He slid his hands up her thighs. She reached down between them and rubbed his erection through his trousers. He released a strangled moan. She was being uncharacteristically forward. What had come over her?

"Orla?" his said.

"Hmm?" She replied, nuzzling his face. His voice was doing strange things to her insides.

"Orla!" He said again, more urgently this time.

"Yes?" She gripped his hair with her hands.

"Baby, you need to stop, I don't know if I can..." before he could finish what he was saying she arched her back, grinding her pelvis into his again. HERE He groaned, and gripping her by the hips, he tried to still her movements. "You are really turning me on."

She grinned down at him. "Well that's lucky."

"I don't want to take advantage of you Orla."

She laughed "You take advantage of me?" and pulling him towards her she caught his bottom lip in her teeth and bit.

*

'Ow!'

'Did I hurt you?'

"No, not much." He'd liked it. "It just came as a bit of a surprise."

"I must try harder next time."

He touched her face. "I'm very flattered by all this but I don't want you to regret anything in the morning."

Her brow knitted and her bottom lip stuck out. He wanted to laugh out loud.

"I'm not that drunk."

"All the same, we should slow things down a bit." But even as the words left his mouth, Greg struggled to remember why taking this woman to his bed and screwing her brains out wasn't the right thing to do.

When she climbed off him and got to her feet, he thought he'd irrevocably killed the moment. He shouldn't have said anything. He hadn't wanted to take advantage of her but he didn't want her to disappear entirely either.

But she didn't leave. She stood in front of him. She crossed her arms across her front and grabbing the hem of her dress, she whipped it off in one fluid movement.

All of the air rushed out of the room.

Greg blinked. "You've, you've taken your dress off." Well played Captain Obvious. He thought, as soon as he'd spoken.

"Yep," Orla nodded. "I've never worn this dress before." A frown formed on her brow. "Glad it didn't get stuck. That would have been embarrassing."

Perfect. She was perfect and even though he knew that it was at least partly alcohol-fueled he was finding her reckless confidence indescribably sexy. When a moment of self-doubt flickered across her face moments later, Greg realised he had been staring, open mouthed, without speaking.

He grinned. "Come back here." Grabbing her hand, he pulled her forward.

And in a heartbeat cocky Orla was back. She straddled him again, grabbed him by the hair and pushed him back so he was pressed against the sofa, then kissed him hard. All of a sudden she pulled away. She reached behind her back with both hands. Greg admired the curve of her breasts and the sweep of her collarbone and as he drank in the sight of her, he wondered what on earth he'd done to deserve this beautiful woman sitting astride him with hardly any clothes on. Then he realised what she was doing.

"No!" He growled, and reached behind her to grab both her wrists.

After trying to pull them free and failing Orla settled for scowling.

Laughing, he told her "I'm going to be the one to take your bra off...but not yet."

He launched himself to his feet, and cupping his hands under her thighs he made for the bedroom. It was lucky the door was ajar, because he didn't have any free hands. He pushed it the rest of the way open with his foot and lowered her down onto the bed.

He took a step back. Orla propped herself up on her elbows and watched him through playful green eyes. Freckles dusted her shoulders; mingling with glitter and with her long, pale limbs and almost translucent hair she was like an angel.

Dropping to his knees, Greg started at the edge of her underwear and traced the waist band with his lips. When he reached the middle he changed direction, travelling upwards, passing along her navel, he ran his mouth along the line of her bottom rib. Her skin smelled sweet and faintly of vanilla and nutmeg. He looked up between the valley of her breasts and cupped them through the material of her bra, rubbing his face against them, breathing in the scent of her again.

She grabbed his face and pulled it up towards her own so she could kiss him again. Taking his bottom lip between her teeth, she bit down, only gentler this time.

Greg was almost painfully aroused. He wanted to rip her underwear off and thrust into her. He wanted to fill her, to feel her all around him. But he couldn't let himself do that. He didn't trust himself not to climax the moment their naked flesh touched. Instead he pulled her along the mattress until she was nearly at the edge and pressed his face against her sex. She hissed his name as his mouth made contact. A surge of carnal satisfaction tore through him and he smiled against her.

*

When his teeth brushed the nub of her clitoris she bucked and her hands clawed at the sheets. He pushed his thumbs into the elastic of her knickers and slid them down her thighs, exposing a fine smatter of ginger pubic hair.

She grabbed his hair in her fists and impatiently forced his face against her so he was back where she wanted him. He covered her with his mouth, teasing her into arousal with his tongue. Before long she was arched off the bed, fists clenched, riding wave after wave of ecstasy. She was so close to reaching her climax, that when he moved his mouth away an unseemly whimper of protest issued from her lips. He caught her stare with his own as he crawled back up her torso. Wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her braced against him. He tried to kiss the crease on her forehead away, when this didn't work he grinned down at her frustrated scowl.

"I want to see your face when you come."

Using the pad of his thumb he brushed fiercely back and forth across her clitoris. Not much time passed until she was bucking and moaning again. He moved his head so his mouth was as close as it could be to the shell of her ear and whispered "Come for me Orla." and try as she might, she couldn't find any words. Her only response was the rhythm of her uneven breath against his neck.

He pushed two of his fingers into the soft hot channel of her core, and nudging the fabric of her bra aside he captured a nipple in his mouth and in doing so, ignited an orgasm that made her sob his name.

*

With her eyes squeezed shut, Orla came apart in his arms. Satisfaction rippled through him. He fell back onto the bed, pulling her with him so she was draped over his chest as she caught her breath. And somehow, even though he was still desperately aroused, her climax was a relief. For now it was enough.

Orla wrapped her legs around his waist and hoisted herself upright, so she was sitting astride him. She grinned. Her cheeks were pink, charmingly so.

"You're wearing too many clothes," she decided, clumsily undoing the remaining buttons on his shirt. When she was done he sat up and pulled it off. Her eyes roamed across his torso. He lay back, hands behind his head and waited.

She smiled shyly and glanced around for the first time, taking in her surroundings. There wasn't much stuff in his room.

"You haven't lived here long." She looked back at him. "Did you move from London recently?

"I did," he said slowly, "Is that where you know me from?"

But Orla wasn't listening, she was staring at the small shelf over his desk, her eyes narrowed "Is that..." She paused and he knew exactly what she was looking at. He cringed at the inevitable questions that would follow.

"Are they Mr Men books?"

His face warmed. "Yeah."

She climbed up onto her knees and leaned across him. He breathed in her vanilla scent as she reached up and pulled down a book.

"You have Mr Men books?" Her voice was curious as she flicked through the pages of Mr Messy. "You must be younger than you look." Her eyes widened in mock horror. "Should I be worried? How old are you exactly? Am I breaking the law?"

He laughed. "My sister and I have this thing going at birthdays."

"Oh that's sweet."

"I don't see her too much, she lives in Hong Kong and... well, they're cheap to post."

"Oh, I love Mr Men books, she said," nodding emphatically. "I have them all, I read them all the time."

He frowned. "Do you?"

She grabbed a pillow and whacked him across the head. "Of course I don't you great big Eejit. They're Mr Men books. That would be ridiculous."

He gazed up at her in a sort of daze. It was 2.30 in the morning. Her hair was a mess. She was wearing almost nothing and she'd just hit him with a pillow. She was so happy and uninhibited and spontaneous and he couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed this much.

He could really get into this girl.

*

For a moment Orla thought she might have offended Greg, until he pulled a pillow out from under his head and whacked her back. She almost toppled over. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her upright. As soon as she was free she lunged at him and poked him in the ribs. He squirmed and cried her name, laughing despite himself. For a fleeting moment Tim crept unbidden into her mind. They'd never done anything like this. The sex was nice, but it was never playful. Sex with Tim was never fun.

"Are you ticklish?" he managed to ask between choked laughter.

"Not remotely," she replied, shaking her head earnestly. Her mouth twitched as she spoke.

He tickled her back. Oh she was ticklish alright. She pleaded for him to stop and when he didn't she kissed him to distraction. It worked so she went for him again. But Greg moved fast. Grabbing her waist, he twisted them both so he was straddling her instead.

She tried to wriggle free but she couldn't move no matter how hard she tried. He was towering over her, filling her vision, his arms braced on either side of her head, pinning her wrists to the mattress. She could feel his erection pressing against her hip.

"You're not going to win, Orla." His already captivating eyes danced with mischief. "I'm stronger than you. Do you like playing games you can't win?"

At the sound of his voice, she felt a frisson of arousal tinged with panic. She didn't really know this man. He was a stranger. Far bigger and darker than Tim, and the innate sense of safety she felt, alone with him, in his house, was in no way rational.

Meanwhile the question hung between them unanswered, as the mistral of emotions hurtled around Orla's chest.

He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. A gentle kiss, but with so much weight, so much expectation behind it. And something roared to life inside of Orla, chasing the fear away. All thoughts of Tim dissolved. The Mr Men books and the pillow fight were close behind. They weren't playing any more. All she knew was she wanted him. She wanted him inside her. Right now, straight away. More than anything she'd ever wanted in the world and from the look in his eye he felt exactly the same way.

Releasing her wrists he reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Cupping her newly exposed breasts and gazing at them reverently. She was squirming with need. How on earth he could bear to take things this slowly? He stood and she watched as he unbuckled his belt and pulled his remaining clothes off. He produced a condom from a drawer, which he deftly pulled over his erection, then he climbed back on top of her.

*

Resting on his elbows with his erection nestled at her entrance, he leaned down and kissed her on the mouth and gazed into her eyes.

"We don't know each other very well. I want to make love to you desperately, but I'd understand if you told me you didn't want to."

"I want to,"sShe replied immediately.

He released a breath and slid inside her as slowly as he could bear to; when he reached his limit he buried his face in her neck and held still.

"I don't know how long I'm going to be able to last, but I promise I'll make it up to you later."

"You don't have to make anything up to me," she told him. "Just the feel of you inside me."

The sound of her voice so breathy and needy was nearly his undoing. He began to move, tantalisingly slowly. She dragged her nails across the clenched muscles of his arse and groaned his name. He stilled again, breathing hard.

"Greg," she pleaded, "Don't stop... please don't stop." She wrapped her legs around him and ground her hips against his.

He thrust into her.

"Oh God, that feels so good!"

He squeezed his eyes closed "I don't want to come yet, I'm enjoying being inside you too much."

When she thrust back his resolve broke. He pulled her upright, so they faced each other and she was braced against the headboard. Bunching her short hair in his hands he kissed her, until her eyes fell closed and then they were going at it like rutting animals in heat. He couldn't get deep enough.

Suddenly she went rigid. Her nails dug into the skin on his arms, internal muscles clenching around his erection. She threw her head back and released an almost anguished cry. It turned him on more than he imagined possible. He encircled her waist in his hands and thrust once, twice. With a loud cry, he found his own release. Even though his eyes were closed tight, stars exploded on the edge of his vision and he collapsed on top of her.