26. JACK
26
JACK
“ W hat’s our story?” Elly asks. She’s trying for casual, but I can see right through the act. “Are we telling people?”
She sounds nervous and refuses to look at me as she busies herself in the kitchen, making some strange concoction for breakfast. I suspect it’s pancakes, although I’m pretty sure I saw some chickpeas get mixed in there, so I’m a bit dubious, but she’s wearing that pretty pink silk underwear set, so I’m happy to watch.
We’ve been fucking, almost constantly, for ten days. It’s been glorious, and I can’t get home from the office soon enough. I’m definitely sleep deprived, but it’s worth it. “You mean, are we going to announce ourselves as a couple at the charity fundraiser for my dad?”
Elly frowns. “Not appropriate?” I smile at her because I can’t help it. She’s licking a wooden spoon in long swipes with the flat of her tongue and it has all sorts of inappropriate thoughts racing through my head. “We’re arriving together,” she continues, “so I thought maybe we’d have to explain it.”
“We live together. We don’t have to explain anything. It makes total sense that we’d arrive together.”
Elly stirs the batter she’s making more vigorously, and I know she disagrees.
“I like it just being us,” I state. “Do we need to say anything?”
She stops stirring. “No. I guess not. I just figured maybe—”
“You know what my mother is like. I can’t spring something like that on her.”
She puts down the wooden spoon and places both hands flat on the island on either side of the bowl and stares at me. “Is it because I’m not on her list of approved partners?”
I wince. That fucking list . My mother stepped over the line there. Who I date is none of her business, and I intend to keep my feelings for Elly from her for as long as I can. Otherwise, she’ll rip her apart. “She can be difficult, and she’ll be emotional tonight as it is. It’s better if I tell her another time, in private. Not at the party. And as for Kate… I’m not ready to tell her. Are you?”
Elly considers this. “No.”
She looks a tad perturbed, so I walk over and put my arms around her from behind. I nuzzle into her neck and kiss her, and she makes a low humming sound. If chocolate made a noise when it melted, it would be that sound. “I want to fuck you when you make that noise,” I rasp against her throat.
She repeats the noise, dipping her finger into the batter and bringing it up to my mouth over her shoulder. “Try this.”
“What is it?”
“Try it,” she urges, but when I refuse to suck the batter off, she smears it on my cheek. It’s cold and wet and thick.
“Hey,” I cry, grabbing her wrist and spinning her so she’s facing me. “Seriously, what is this stuff?”
“It’s chocolate chip pancake batter.”
I tug her towards me, so her chin is against my bare chest. She’s peering up at me, and her breathing is heavy. “Liar,” I growl.
She grins, and then, in a flash, she sticks her hand in the bowl, scoops up a handful of mixture, and smears it in my hair and down the side of my face.
“What the fuck?” I splutter.
She writhes, trying to escape my grip, staring up at me with those big blue come-fuck-me eyes.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” I hoist her up on the island, my hands rising up her thighs. “I’m going to punish you for it.”
She draws back a little, but her eyes darken. “Jack…” she warns.
“You’ve been bad. Very bad,” I say slowly, relishing how aroused Elly suddenly looks, sitting there with her legs apart, her flesh hot beneath my fingers. I ease my hands under her top, pulling it off and she wriggles out of it to help me. She has beautiful breasts. I throw her top on the floor and suck one of her nipples into my mouth, flicking it with my tongue. She tips her head back and moans, and it’s then I know I have her.
I release her nipple with a pop, grab the bowl of batter, and tip the whole thing over her bare chest. The milky batter slops over her, and her head jerks up and she shrieks. Her eyes flash with annoyance, and she swipes at me, but I move out of reach.
I’m fighting back laughter, but somehow Elly still looks gorgeous, like a nude model painted in batter. It’s hilarious, and disgusting, and I still fancy the pants off her.
“You bastard,” she yelps, but she’s laughing and her eyes are alight with a bright vivacity that’s irresistible. She jumps off the island and runs at me, the batter dripping down her naked torso.
“Fuck, you look hot,” I say between gasps of laughter as Elly chases me around the kitchen. “Like a sexy pancake.” I’m losing it now, laughing uncontrollably, and she is too.
I slow down, raw bursts of laughter still exploding from my mouth, and Elly leaps at me, jumping on my back, one arm around my throat, the other thumping my shoulder, but it barely hurts. I hold her there, reaching behind me to keep her safe in this piggy-back position, until our laughter eases and she slumps against me, the batter slick between us.
“Who’s going to clean up?” I ask as we recover from the hilarity.
She leans forward, curling herself over my spine so her mouth is next to my ear, and whispers, “I was cooking, so it’s your turn.”
I let her slide down my back until her feet hit the floor, and then I turn to her. “How about we shower together?”
She pretends to ponder this and then flashes me an excited smile. “Okay.”
“And then we can have sex.”
“Wait, you mean you don’t want me covered in batter?”
“Am I allowed to say no?” She lets out a puff of outrage and swipes at me again, but I dodge the blow and pull her into my arms, kissing her hard, and she melts into me. I break off and whisper against her lips. “I want you any way you come. Always.”
“I know,” she breathes.
Outside the door to Nico’s flat, Elly grabs my hand and squeezes. “Last time I touch you tonight, I promise,” she says, letting go.
“I sincerely hope not. All I want is your hands all over me.”
She giggles, then frowns. “I thought you never noticed me.”
My heart clenches as memories ambush me… moments over the years when I noticed Elly, but refused to acknowledge how I felt because she was off-limits. My little sister’s friend. Now, they return, hard and fast, like images passing through an old-school projector. Click, click, click-fucking-click . All those times she accompanied Kate to one of my parties, when her mere presence set off tiny energetic shocks through my body that I brushed off like lint from my sleeve. Or when she gifted me that stupid little statue of Priapus, complete with an erection that reached to his forehead, claiming it meant nothing, even though I was convinced it meant something . But even that memory I locked away, another occurrence I never allowed myself to examine too closely. Now, with the clarity of hindsight, I know that each one of those moments burrowed deep into my psyche, waiting to be recognised. I always liked her . Christ . What a revelation.
It’s fucking intense, but I blink to clear my head, making light of it as I say, “You? You’re impossible to ignore. Annoying as hell, but completely captivating.” You always have been. I lean in. “And now that I’ve had a taste, I’m addicted. I’m never giving you up.”
She smiles that little private smile, and at the same time the door swings open, and Mum is standing there in an evening dress that falls all the way to the floor. It’s black, sleek, and elegant. She’s draped in gold and diamonds, and her face is packed with makeup. Her eyelashes are so thick with mascara that they look rigid, like miniature train tracks. But even so, there’s no denying that Mum looks good. Impressively glamorous, by any standard.
“Jack,” she exclaims. She leans in to kiss me on both cheeks and I get a whiff of heavy patchouli perfume.
“You look wonderful, Mum.”
“I do, don’t I?” she says, which has been my mother’s response to comments on how good she looks for as long as I can remember.
She pulls away from me and looks down at Elly, who is at least five inches shorter. “Eleanor.” She glances between us. “Kate did tell me you two were living together. What a bizarre arrangement.” Mum frowns and rolls her eyes before pushing the door wide. “I suppose you’d better come in. Didn’t you get the memo about the dress code?”
Elly’s wearing a white lace dress paired with her cowboy boots and sheepskin coat, which is smart for Elly, but not up to Mum’s standards. Elly blushes, her brow creasing.
“Mum,” I reprimand, but Mum only rolls her eyes more elaborately. Elly scowls, and I nearly reach out for her hand but resist. It’s not worth my while having Mum suspect anything is going on. Not yet, anyway.
But I needn’t have worried about trying to reassure her, because Elly stands a little taller and meets Mum head-on. “Hi, Mrs Lansen. I wasn’t aware it was a fancy dress party. You make an excellent Morticia Addams. She’s very sexy, for a monster.”
I stifle a laugh, holding it in my throat. Mum gasps, and Elly flashes her an ‘ Is there a problem? ’ smile, and when Mum merely stares at her, she wanders into the party, telling us she’s going to find Kate. I have the strangest urge to run after her and give her a high-five. Not that I love her disrespecting my mother, but sometimes she fucking deserves it.
Mum links her arm through mine, and I escort her through the party. “That girl is so rude. I honestly don’t know why Kate is friends with her. It must be a nightmare living with her. I do feel for you, darling. Really, I do.”
“Turns out, she’s a wonderful housemate.” I lean closer to Mum, as if I’m about to impart a juicy piece of gossip. “I rather like her.”
Mum draws back and stares at me. “You’ve changed your tune. I distinctly remember you telling me how useless you thought she was, and how irritating you found her.”
I fist my free hand at my side, reminding myself to keep my mouth shut despite the desperate urge to count the fucking ways I’ve changed my mind and spill it all at Mum’s feet; how wonderful Elly is, how fucking glorious the sex is, how I like her more than I’ve ever liked anyone and how absolutely elated I am that she came to live with me in the first place. Mum has no idea, and I intend to keep it that way . When I offer nothing further, s he ushers me over to a group of women, all draped in high fashion and glistening with jewels like the window displays of Burlington Arcade.
Mum announces our arrival with the words, “You remember Lydia, don’t you?”
Lydia? What the hell is she doing here?
A full-body shudder threatens to overtake me as Lydia beams at me, before kissing me right on the lips. Jesus . I glance at Mum, who looks delighted by this.
“Jack, your mother is absolutely fabulous. Like Joanna Lumley.” Lydia gives me a huge false smile that has me clenching my teeth. “We’ve been spending some time together.”
They have?
I hold up a finger, and Lydia looks taken aback that I’m halting her flow. “I’m sorry. I need a moment to speak to my mother.” I pull Mum away from the group of women, who stare and then continue their huddled conversation. Mum, with an expression on her face as though she has absolutely no idea what I could possibly want to talk to her about, follows me.
When I’m out of earshot of the group, my voice is sharp when I ask, “What is Lydia doing here? I ended things with her. I was very clear about it.” Wasn’t I?
“Don’t pull that face,” Mum whispers. “I’ve been spending a little time with her, and she’s a delight. We’ve had tea at Fortnum's twice since we met at the racetrack. Did you know she knows the Weston family? They gave us complimentary champagne.” Mum gives a lovesick sigh that has me feeling bilious. “I can absolutely imagine her as my daughter-in-law.”
“That is fucking ridiculous,” I spit with vehemence.
Mum gasps. “Jack. I’m shocked.” She recovers instantly, suggesting she’s not only not shocked, but also not bothered by my reaction and may, in fact, have anticipated it. “You never came back to me on which of the women you preferred. I told you I’d arrange a date for tonight.”
Our conversation in the car after the race comes back to me. I’d pretty much forgotten about it. Over Mum’s shoulder, I can see Elly talking to Kate, and the urge to go over there and grab her is almost all-consuming. I have to force myself to finish this conversation with Mum. “I don’t want to have a date with any of them.”
“I thought you’d say that.” She gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. “Enjoy yourself tonight, won’t you? Mingle. Chat. Make some new friends.” She blows me a kiss and leaves me wondering what on earth has gotten into her.
Without Elly by my side, the time passes agonisingly slowly. Another fucking event where I can’t touch her, only this time we’re a legitimate couple, and pining has been replaced by compulsive need, at least on my part. Somehow, that only makes it harder to endure the temporary separation, and jealousy burns through me whenever any other guy talks to her. She’s so friendly and flirtatious that I’m sure they’d get the wrong idea in no time. She’s mine.
Maybe she was right. Perhaps I should be telling my family. Perhaps I need to stake my claim. At least then I’d be able to hold her hand in public. But, God, is it worth it with Mum? She wouldn’t like it, that’s for sure, and I’d rather spare us both the pain of Mum’s condemnation for as long as possible.
I’ve had a few drinks and caught up with some of my father’s friends by the time Elly reappears at my side, her expression so concerned that my stomach drops. Her hands latch onto my arm. “Jack. They’re all here,” she hisses.
“Who is?”
“The women from the cards. Every single one of them your mum picked out.” An unsettling shiver rolls down my spine and settles in my gut. Elly takes note of my alarm and says, “Didn’t you notice?”
“No. To be honest, you’re the only woman I notice.”
Elly waves away the compliment. “I’m serious. I counted them. All of them. Even Princess Astrid.” She points over to the window, where Astrid is talking to Nico and Matt Hawkston.
“Oh, fuck me.”
“Yeah,” she nods emphatically. “This is like some crazy speed-dating event for you, disguised as a charity event in memory of your dad.”
I scan the room, noting more familiar faces. There’s the woman who might be getting divorced, dressed in a floor-length silk gown, her hair twirled up on her head. She’s talking to two other women I recognise from Mum’s cards. One is the daughter of a Yorkshire baronet who I know has never worked a day in her life, and the other runs her own hedge fund. Mum has all bases covered with these women.
All bases but the one I’m interested in.
“Shit,” I mutter.
“Yeah. Shit,” Elly says, wide-eyed.
We turn to look at one another, and, after a moment of heavy silence, we nearly burst out laughing, and as I’m standing there in the middle of the event, my hand smothering inappropriate laughter, Elly leaning into me to hide her own, I’m hit by the realisation that she isn’t only a gorgeous woman I’m sleeping with, she’s also a friend, and I don’t know exactly when it happened, but it has, and I fucking love it.
An idea pops into my head, and I feel compelled to act upon it. “You know what you’re going to do?” I curl my arm around her waist. “You’re going to show everyone in this room how talented you are.” Elly doesn’t have a moment to object before I haul her up towards the band, who are just finishing a song.
“Jack, no,” she hisses, resisting my pull, but it’s a token effort. She’s mostly following me, and I’m confident I can ignore her empty protests as I lead her through the party.
When we reach the band, I step up to the guitarist. “Would you mind if my friend here…” I indicate Elly. “Performed a song quickly?”
He’s young, maybe in his early twenties, and he looks like a startled rabbit. “I can’t do that.”
“Nonsense,” I say, one hand reaching for his guitar. “Just one song. I’m Jack Lansen. This event is in memory of my father. My mother and sister hired you. They won’t mind.”
The poor young bloke looks utterly confused, but he hands me the guitar, which I pass to Elly, who looks as stricken as the guitarist.
I step up to the microphone. “Good Evening,” I begin, my voice booming through Nico’s enormous flat. “I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. My father would have been delighted to see so many familiar faces and new friends.” Someone claps, and I note Lydia near the front, gazing at me. I wish she'd fuck off . “I’d like to take this moment to introduce an extraordinary new talent. Miss Elly Carter.”
I stick out my arm in Elly’s direction. She rises to the occasion perfectly, stepping up to the microphone, whispering to me as she passes, “You’ll pay for this later. Putting me on the spot like this.”
“Play with the pros, El,” I whisper back. “I know you can do it.” My fingers trail over her lower back as she moves past me. I return to the crowd, letting her hold the stage alone.
Everyone begins to clap, and Kate is grinning, grabbing Nico’s arm and hauling him closer to us. Mum is over to my left, gesticulating angrily at me as though she’s about to fly off the handle, but I don’t give a fuck. If she’s going to surprise me with a load of unsolicited dates, then she ought to be prepared for a return shot.
“Well, this is unexpected,” Elly begins, adjusting the guitar. “But I’m honoured to sing something while we’re all gathered to remember Mr Lansen.”
She begins to sing, and she’s barely got a few bars in, her sultry voice floating over the crowd, before a voice beside me says, “Holy fuck, she is smoking.”
I turn to find Seb Hawkston grinning, eyes pinned on Elly. “Jesus, Seb,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Let it go.”
“Oh, come on, Jacko. Tell me you’re fucking her, because if you aren’t, you’re missing a fucking trick.”
“Leave it,” I say, without taking my eyes off Elly.
“Of course he’s not sleeping with her. She’s the waitress from the Marchmont.” Lydia has appeared at my side. I swear the woman is following me. “When are we going on another date, Jack? I haven’t heard from you for a while.”
“We’re not," I snap. "I’m seeing someone.”
“Oh. Oh, gosh.” Shock reverberates in her tone. “Really? Are you?”
I turn fully to Lydia, though I loathe to take my attention off Elly. But this needs to be done. I need to make it clear for this woman to get it through her thick skull. “I’m seeing someone else, and it’s serious. I really like her, so I’m sorry, but we won’t be going on another date. I’m sure you’ll find someone more suited to you than I am.”
Lydia’s face blanches. “Oh. Jack.” Her eyes flash to Elly, who’s still singing her heart out. “Is it the waitress?” Her voice is thick with disdain.
“Fuck’s sake, Lydia. Her name is Elly. And yes, it’s her.”
Fury emanates from Lydia’s eyeballs like jets of hydrochloric acid, but before she can respond, Seb’s hand slaps my back.
“Yes, mate. I fucking knew it.” He sounds so delighted, you’d think he was the one sleeping with Elly. It’s strangely endearing that he’s so enthused. “Well done.”
I ignore him, turning back to the only person who matters. Elly’s song is finishing, and all I want to do is rush up to her, take her in my arms and kiss her. I can’t seem to hear her sing without being nearly overwhelmed with desire.
Elly’s taking a bow, but she catches my eye, and I tilt my head in the direction of the cloakroom, and I know she’ll follow me when she can. I make my excuses, leaving Lydia with Seb, and Lydia’s glare is so vicious that I feel it searing into my shoulder blades even after I’ve walked away.