Split 2 E-Book

Renata W. Müller

• Herausgeber: Werthmüller Renáta
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Split
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 600

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Second book of the Split Series 

„The girls and Sven were teasing me all day about the satisfied, dreamy smile that wouldn’t leave my face. They had a point! Gran, thank God, is better, business is going well, I love my work, and I’m the happiest wife in the world. So why wouldn’t I be all smiles? My life is finally on the up.”

These are her last thoughts before total chaos overwhelms her life.

A peaceful life without complications? Forget it, Hannah Logan! Destiny has something else in store for you.

Leseprobe

SPLIT

Erotic Romance Novel

BOOK TWO

By Renata W Müller

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are fictitious or, if real, used fictitiously. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products or works mentioned.

Thank you for purchasing this eBook. This eBook remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. This eBook, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

Copyright © 2018 by Renata Werthmüller

ISBN 978-615-00-3344-0

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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Epilogue

Also by Renata W Müller:

Chapter 1

HANNAH

I am woken by a chill running through my entire body. Shivering, I curl up on the mattress. I drowsily open my eyes, and as soon as I see the empty space next to me, my throat tightens. I’m alone in my old bed, at Gran’s place. Jamie’s not with me to keep me warm, and since I’ve kicked the cover off in my sleep, now I’m reaching for it with a stiff neck to pull it over myself again. I turn on my back, and staring at the ceiling, I try to recall what day it is. Wednesday. This means, there are only three more lonely nights to go, and we’ll be together again – I’m thinking, to encourage myself. But then frustration gets the better of me. Oh, no! Three more long, lonely, sleepless nights, until we meet again. I clutch the corner of the cover and pull it over my head with a sigh. Just then, something cool hits against my forehead, and this pulls me out of the feeling of melancholy. It’s the stone of my wedding ring. The ring Jamie had carried in his trouser pocket for weeks, before he thought the moment right to pull it on my finger. The cold shivers are immediately replaced by waves of warmth running down my spine as I recall the unconventional, but all the more passionate manner of our engagement. No doubt, Jamie has his own, unique way in everything he does. These are typical Jamie stuff I have grown addicted to in recent times, whose lack is torturing me now like crazy. And I don’t just mean sensual things, although… the truth is, this special guy has opened the gates of such an exciting and erotic world before my eyes which used to be totally unknown to me. His love for me, the lustful, sensual energy that emanates from him when we are together, has liberated me and made me a real woman. But there are also those adorable faults of his which used to confuse and bother me, however now, I have managed to appreciate, even love them. It’s adorable the way he places the spoon beside the cup with a thousandth millimetre’s accuracy, and always at the same angle when he makes our coffee every morning. The way he avoids wearing vivid colours, and only puts on monotone clothes, preferably black, or at least something dark. And even this adds to his charms, as I swear, there’s no man in the universe hotter than Jamie Hailey in a black suit. Or when, regardless of previous therapies, he always misunderstands other people’s ironic or funny comments, and informs Mandy with an educational tone in the shop that the computer’s wire is actually called a power cable, which is a copper-based transfer medium consisting of four pairs, with all of its eight copper cables surrounded by insulation. Such remarks are usually followed by an astonished silence, and people stare at my sweet weirdo as if he had come from Mars – which causes me to transform into an amazon, feeling like I have to protect him from their prejudices. By the time Jamie realizes that he has messed up again and mumbles an embarrassed apology, it’s too late, because these remarks burst out of him from time to time totally uncontrolled. Yet, I love him even for this. I don’t know if I’m right, but I feel privileged because, while this hyper-intelligent, hot guy refrains from other people’s touch, he becomes a passionate lover as soon as we are alone, and he’s unable to take his hands off me, no matter where we are. I don’t know why, but this is the truth. He wants me, he is devoted to me, and he needs me. He says that I’m the centre of his universe, and who wouldn’t feel special being loved like this?

With a smile, I plant a kiss on my ring, and kick off the cover. Come on, Hannah, pull yourself together. Enough of this daydreaming! Your husband will be home soon, your gran needs you, and there’s work piled up at the shop.

I’ve never been the type whose eyes just pop open in the morning, and gets out of bed being able to function at a hundred percent. I need my coffee, and a little later a second one, and a lukewarm shower to fully wake me up. Or else, I need Jamie, who has his own, naughtily erotic ways to get sleep out of my system super quickly. Since the second option is completely off the table this morning, I sit up on the edge of the bed with a sigh, stretch, and my eyes fall on my mobile. I unlock it, and the first thing I see is a text from him. He is thinking about and misses me, and he informs me about this fact about six times a day, in writing. Yes, exactly six times a day. With a deadly accuracy, every four hours. The man would drive me crazy if I didn’t adore him so much. But before my thoughts would wander off too far – and well, my thoughts are stubbornly wandering under the folds of Jamie’s elegant black suit and his grey shirt – another text arrives, this time from Bree.

“Honey, cut out the morning musings about your sexy hubby, and get going, because our Fashion Week meeting has been shifted to 10am. Pick you up at Bond Street half 9, xoxo B”

I pull an involuntary smile. Am I so predictable, or is Bree able to read my mind? Whatever it is, her message sobers me up. I glance at the clock and see that I have to pull myself together if I don’t want to be late.

~

The scent of mint tea fills the kitchen. I made a big pot for Gran, so it should last until I get back after work. I’m putting the pot on the tray and placing a mug beside it. Lately, I’ve had to push her to take some food. Something comes to my mind, and I begin to rummage through the kitchen cabinet. There should be some custard creams left in there. She will not be able to resist them, for sure. I get down on all fours and search the lower shelf, in the meantime, mentally running through my list of things to do for the day. It’s not so bad. As a matter of fact, I’ve even caught up on some work since Jamie left. It’s a bit sad, but since he has been away, I’ve had more time to work. On the first day, after I had brought Gran back from the hospital, I only went in to get my laptop and was on my way back to hers. I didn’t want to leave her too long when she wasn’t used to the cast yet. I spent the day with her, but she mostly slept due to her medication, so I had time to work. Yesterday, after we finished breakfast, although with a heavy heart, I had to leave her. She insisted I shouldn’t neglect work because of her, she would be okay on her own. Since I knew one of her female friends was coming over that afternoon, I agreed. If I keep a good pace today and skip lunch, I will be finished as soon as five and can be back here again to help her shower. Today David is coming to see her, and I’m pleased about that, but because of this visit, we had to spend 45 minutes with dressing in the morning. Gran was so fussy, and also stubborn like a mule. It was out of the question for her to see Mr McKenna in her PJs, or, heaven forbid, in her dressing gown. Oh no! In vain, I tried to convince her that after all, it was just about someone coming over to visit an ill friend, she didn’t necessarily need to look impeccable for it. No joy with that! A different generation, with different habits. She insisted on wearing a skirt and her blue blouse with the tiny flowers. As it turned out, the blue flowery blouse and the cast are not friends. We tried and tried for half an hour until I managed to more or less put the blouse on her. The cast was too thick and an awkward shape. I couldn’t pull the blouse through her arm without ripping the material. I spent the next fifteen minutes stitching the tear on her casted arm. I put the cardigan on her, which, thank goodness, was knitted, so it gave easier when I dragged it on. I combed and padded her on the sofa, with the remote control and today’s paper by her hand. My darling got so exhausted by this complicated activity that she even dozed off while sitting.

Finally, I find the opened pack of custard creams. Yay! I neatly arrange them on a small plate and put it onto the tray. She will not be able to resist this treat! It will probably last until David arrives and they have lunch together. Once again, I check the plastic container in the fridge, with the label ‘layered pasta’. It’s done. I look around. The kitchen is in a chaotic state. It’s just as well Gran can’t see it. I shrug my shoulders. I don’t give a shit. The point is I’m seeing to her needs. Cleaning is of secondary importance. Perhaps I do it tomorrow – I pout my lips with discouragement.

The more I have to do, the less I think about how much I miss Jamie. Okay. Who am I trying to fool? No matter what, I keep thinking about him all the time, and I’m counting the hours until I can see him again. The eight-hour difference is not very handy for us, but we have spoken a few times. He says he misses me terribly. Well, I miss him too. Even worse. I try to sound not too desperate on the phone. I know how hard it was for him to leave without me. I know my reaction is rather irrational, since it’s only five nights we are talking about. But every time we talk on the phone, I sense he also takes the distance really hard, which creates a strange, ambivalent feeling in me. For one thing, a lustful contentment fills me at the thought that he is also suffering without me, but on the other hand, I hate that he is struggling, and it saddens me to hear his voice so gloomy on the phone.

With a sigh, I lift the tray, and putting a smile on my face, I manoeuvre myself out of the kitchen, balancing the tea. I can’t make much use of the smile, as entering the living room, I see Gran is still asleep. Cautiously, I put down the tray, and hesitate a while, not knowing what to do. I don’t want to just be off without a word, so I decide to wake her up. I tap her hand and call her name. At once, her eyes pop open, and she blinks around with embarrassment. Have I fallen asleep again? She asks, which makes me smile. Although there is no need, she apologizes and mentions as an excuse the medication makes her drowsy. She feels strange about these medicines, and I can’t wonder that. My Gran has never been on any pills before. She has a body like iron. I repeat for the twentieth time that I have left lunch in the fridge with a label, and David is coming at 12 to keep her company. I place the phone within her reach, and make her promise she would immediately give me a call in case of any trouble.

“And what could happen, Love?” she laughs at me naughtily.

“How do I know?” I shrug. “You could even break your arm, considering what a twitchy lady you are,” I wink, making her laugh out with merriment. “But seriously, call me if something happens.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, dear! We’ll be great. You just focus on your tasks. How’s Jamie? When did you talk?”

“Last night. But only briefly. They were on their way somewhere when I called.”

She pats my hand with sympathy, and tilting her head, studies my face.

“He’ll be here soon again. Won’t be long!”

“I know,” I nod, forcing nonchalance on myself, without much success. Gran knows me better than anybody else.

“I can see how lost you are without him,” she notes, and I make big eyes at her.

Do I look lost without him? Hell. Could it be so obvious? I sigh and decide not to get into a fight with her in defence of my independent and confident female self. Why would I? It’s enough to recall how I felt the past two nights, crouched into a foetal position, clutching a cushion, and I realize she is right.

I plant a kiss on her cheek and make my way towards the door. Just as I step out, I hear a message has landed on my phone. I quickly take the phone from the bottom of my pocket, and my eyes are glued to the display. It’s Jamie!

„I miss you like”

What? For God’s sakes! What time is it now in Seattle? Must be about 1 AM. I’m just about to type, like what? When the next text message comes in:

„Crazy”

My heart is filled with warmth, and I start walking with a wide grin on my face as the next text arrives:

„It’s insane.”

Holding the phone against my chest, I wave down a taxi, and even though the driver looks at me funny, I’m not capable of erasing the elevated smile from my face.

~

I must admit, the seniors made it through the day pretty well. When I got home, I found Gran with a flushed face and glittering eyes in the living room, with Mr 007 by her side. They were eating popcorn, playing cards, and visibly having a great time. The kitchen still looks like a bomb blast site. This will be my project tomorrow, I think: kitchen cleaning for frustrated housewives. Now it’s half seven. We are past dinner, have sent Mr McKenna home, and thank heaven, we have successfully completed the chore of showering as well. Only those who have tried to get under the shower with a cast know what I’m talking about. I thoroughly foiled her cast, then pulled a bin bag over it, and sealed it with thick tape at her upper arm. When the masterpiece was finished, we laughed our arses off. I had the definite feeling that she was better, and her mood was also getting back to the normal ‘sunny’ state. I suspect it wasn’t exactly to my credit, though. Mr 007, many thanks to you!

I exchanged a few messages with Jamie through the day. He sent a picture which had been taken on the top floor of a tower, with a breath-taking panorama of the famous Space Needle and Elliott Bay. It was without a doubt a stunning sight. He wrote he wanted to take me there one day. Just us two. I said I couldn’t wait, and there was no place on Earth where I wouldn’t go with him right now. And I didn’t even exaggerate. Not fifteen minutes passed through the day without a tiny detail that reminded me of him.His absence is so soul-wrenching, it causes physical pain. I’m really surprised about it. I never would have thought that I’d ever feel this way about a man again. That I would feel like this about Jamie. While I open the door to the upstairs bathroom, I go through our previous, lustful and amorous text messages. All fire, sentimentality and lots of exaggeration. A perfect reflection of my present state of mind. I put the cell phone on the edge of the wash basin, and with a dreamy expression, I stare at my image in the mirror as I start to peel my clothes off. My body is on fire, pulsating with oppressed desire. My period is finished, and my whole being is pining for Jamie’s touch. I take off my bra and slowly run my fingers over my skin. I take my nipple between my fingers, and closing my eyes, I imagine his hand against my skin. I am torn by an agony of desire, because he is not with me. There is no effect. It’s pointless. I cannot deceive myself. This is not like him touching me. With a sigh, I slowly shake my head at my mirror image and pull a bitter smile. Then suddenly, something comes to my mind. A naughty and downright kinky idea. What would Jamie think? Would he be happy? Or would he freak out? I begin to chew my nails. As I know him, he wouldn’t mind a little fun. I pick up the phone and press the video button. Perhaps I could surprise him with a very intimate, very 18+ video. Even just the thought of it makes my blood boil, and turns my complexion pink. I get quite aroused and begin to study the premises, where I should position the phone. I take out a large terry towel, and put the tooth glass on it, upside down. I set up the phone on top of it. I change the setting to selfie mode. Yes. Perfect. My original idea was to create a sexy little strip-tease, filming it all. But since I’m down to my panties already, I’d have to get dressed again for it to make it impressive. Nooo! That would be too forced. Plus, I’m not terribly talented in such things. Granted, my foot would be caught in my trouser leg, and I would fall over on the bathroom tiles. I discard the idea. This whole thing is so stupid, anyhow! Holy crap, Hannah! Are you really out of your mind? I shake my head and reach for the cell phone to switch it off. I’m such an idiot. Aren’t I? Oh, shit! After all, no one else would see it but Jamie. I would do it for him. Just a little entertainment sent from far away. There’s nothing bad about that! I hesitate for a while, then place the phone in position, once again. Let’s go, Hannah! Don’t be a chicken! I take a deep breath, press record, and begin to pull down my undies. Then suddenly I have a thought, and I quickly put them back on. Hell! I jump to the door to turn on the lock. Not that it’s one of Gran’s habits to open the door on me while I’m in the shower, but you never know. Let’s be on the safe side. I pause the video and delete the previous recordings. Okay! My fingers are drumming nervously on the edge of the wash basin. Again, I have an idea. Why not make it natural? Let’s say, I’m… having a shower. I’m in the shower, and completely by accident…I forget to turn off the video on my phone. Idiot! – I roll my eyes with frustration. Or let’s say, the recording function turns on by itself, by accident. As if I didn’t notice it. Yes! That’s it. I don’t look into the camera. I pretend it’s fully spontaneous. I check the scope of the camera, modify the angle slightly, and then press record. Take two!

Slowly and as sensuously as possible, I begin to pull down my slip, with my butt facing the camera. I’m so nervous as if I’m at a casting. When my slip lands on the floor, I reach out for a hair clip and put up my hair. Then, with the most graceful move I can muster, I try to step inside the shower cabin. I turn around to pull the door, but then remember that with the door in the way, nothing could be seen of me. The glass would be covered with steam in an instant, and then it’s not sexy anymore. Oh, crap! My plan has too many flaws. I leave the door open. I consider the wet floor a necessary damage. Not a big deal. I’ll dry it after. I take my hands off the slide door and reach for the shower head. I set it to the proper height and open the tap. I scream out a little as the first, ice cold drops run down my body. The water slowly warms up, and I also begin to relax. I let the water run on me, and with pleasure, I lift my face to the ceiling. Slowly, I turn around, putting my lustful body’s every square inch on display. I reach out towards the shower gel, let some of it drop into my hand. It comes to my mind to use the sponge, but finally decide to use my bare palms. This is hotter. At least, I think that. Of course, who knows what crosses the mind of a testosterone-driven male? Until I am more specifically informed regarding the issue, I will use my palms. I feel embarrassed as I touch myself, considering that he will see all these things. What will he think? I close my eyes and picture Jamie. Slowly, I start soaping myself, from my lower arm on to my shoulders, making my way up. I think about Dover and our first time. I recall Jamie’s knee-wobblingly masculine and powerful torso. I imagine us together, his palm sticking to my body. I want him so much, it’s driving me crazy. My breathing gets quicker and quicker. By the time I rise to my feet, I’m perfectly wet, and this has nothing to do with the water running onto me. My imagination is on its wings, and the shower cabin reminds me of our wedding night. When he came in after me, and for the first time… I took him in my mouth. I couldn’t wait to please him this way as well. He went like dynamite. And I… hmmm, I enjoyed it just the same. The blood gets into my cheeks at the mere lustful memory. Holy shit! Why should I feel ashamed now? My body shivers with desire, and with a shaking hand, I reach for the shower head. I haven’t planned this, but suddenly I’m driven by erotic spontaneity. I guide the water from my neck downwards, and my sensitive nipples go stiff. Slowly, I progress south, the water tickling my belly and navel. As I reach the most sensitive part, my lips form his name, and I groan out loud, “Jamie!”

~

I’ve surely lost my mind. I’ve gone totally crazy, and it’s official. It’s 11 PM now, and I lie on my bed holding the cell phone, and can’t get myself to believe that I’m actually the one featured in this video. It was hard to get myself to view my work, and it’s so lame I couldn’t get myself to watch the whole thing. I don’t know what to do. My opinion, whether to send it to him or just delete it completely, alters by the second. I have never done anything as kinky as this! On the other hand, it’s so dirty and thrilling. What will Jamie think when he sees it? Will he like it? Or will he freak out? I wish I could see his face when he watches it. My thumb hesitantly hovers over the send button, but I’m not capable of pressing it. I toss the phone onto the duvet, and exhaling loudly, I throw myself on my back. Then, another thought flashes through my mind. Holy crap! What if the video lands in the wrong hands? If let’s say, I send it to the wrong address by mistake, and someone else watches it instead of Jamie? He watches it and puts it online. And by tomorrow, half of YouTube will be laughing at me. Hell! I jump up on the bed, and quickly grab the phone. I carefully open the prepared message and check the number. It’s the right one. It’s not indicated that anyone else would get a copy, and I know for sure that Jamie would never show it to another person. I’m ruining my own sanity with this shit. Rolling my eyes, I finally decide to give it a day. I send him a good night, I love you loads type of text, but for the time being, without the video.

~

JAMIE

Last night I fell asleep in the armchair, stretched out. It’s still dark at dawn as I wake up to a stiffness in my neck and whiskey spilt on my lap. This is also a kind of a wet dream. I have no chance to go back to sleep, so let’s get plan B out. I must somehow burn my excess energy. I’m not a big fan of gyms, I’d rather swim or run outdoors. But since I don’t know this place, I have to make do with what there is. It’s an advantage that no other soul is around in the hotel’s fitness court at 5:30 AM. I run 9 miles at turbo speed, then row for half an hour, until I just about spit my lungs out. Physical loading does me good. But such compensations only work temporarily. As soon as a text comes from Honey, my heart thumps in my throat, not to mention the reactions of some of my other body parts. I knew it would be crap. But this much?? I take my time under the shower, and regardless of my previous determination, I relieve myself there. I can’t go on otherwise. There’s too much tension in me, and this influences my negotiation sessions badly.

It was a mistake to come here on my own. Without Neil, that is. He is much better at things like this than me. I don’t have the foggiest how, but the Cadex guy has caught wind of the other company interested in the software. I wanted to keep it a secret that two negotiations were in progress, but for some stupid reason it transpired. Since then, there has been an awful big hassle from both sides. It takes me a lot of effort to handle these arseholes, to see their real motive behind their words – the tricks, the white lies they are trying to tell. It’s tiring and annoying as hell. I must refresh all the idiotic methods I was forced to learn through my years of therapy. Gestures used in social interaction, metacommunication and the other shit. Randy’s presentation was brilliant. I had not expected it to be otherwise. Those chaps were blown away. But regarding anything else, he really sucks. He offers zero help during negotiations.

I get dressed and check my email. I quickly respond to Neil and scan the news. I send a text to Honey. Then another. Nothing has come from her since last night, and it really wears me out. I hope there’s nothing wrong. I hope she is well. Hell! I put on my jacket and look at the time. It’s time to go. I meet the others in the lobby. The other company has invited us for brunch, to some posh restaurant. They call it ‘showing face’, if I remember correctly. How much I loathe this stuff! I wish it was over. I wish Honey was with me. Two more fucking days until I can hold her in my arms again.

We arrive at the given address by taxi. We are greeted by six people, a whole delegation at the entrance, and by the time I have shaken everybody’s hand and we are done with formalities, I feel desperate to go and thoroughly wash my hands. I am led into the hall, and a middle-aged guy with a red beard called Tim explains to me the restaurant is on the top floor of the skyscraper. I nod, and in the meantime, I’m thinking that tomorrow afternoon I will be flying home at last, and I’ll leave this whole shit behind. It’s unbelievable there are people who actually enjoy things like this – meeting complete strangers, eating and doing small talk with them.

While we wait for the lift, the guy called Tim is constantly talking to me, and what’s even worse, he keeps entering my personal space. I back away, and he follows me. I feel like punching him in the face. The only person whose closeness I desire is Honey. I endure it from my parents, but that’s about the end of my tolerance. Should I tell him to get the fuck out of my face, so that we could keep the bloody eighteen inches? I know I can’t, so I just take a deep breath, and with every nerve in my body, I focus on his questions, analysing them, and just like in similar situations, I automatically deliver the answers I’ve prepared in advance to such questions. I make sure my intonation is not too monotonous, but speaks of interest and enthusiasm. Sometimes I smile, and when I feel it’s time to do so, I occasionally insert words that express interest, such as Really? Great. Amazing! This works almost always without fail. I can do it. Not a problem.

After what seems like hours, we finally get into the lift. I stand in the corner, Randy is with his wife, next to me. I sense the phone fizzing in my pocket. I’ve received a message. It might be Honey. Hell, I hope it’s her! I can’t help myself but take the phone out of my pocket, and glance at the display. It’s her. But it’s a… video? Furrowing my brow, I look around. The lift is quite crowded, and Tim is still carrying on with his banter. I grab the device, dying to find out what the message is about. I carefully glance at the screen and mumble a quiet ‘excuse me’ under my nose to the blabbermouth. My device is set to silent mode, so there will be no problem with that. I step into the corner even farther away from them, and unsuspectingly press ‘play’. FUCKING HELL. My chin drops as I see Honey’s sexy white bum on the screen as she pulls down her slip and steps into the shower cabin. I quickly press ‘stop’, turn the phone downwards, and look around apprehensively. The chap with the beard is now talking to one of his colleagues, and Randy tensely focuses on the blue flashing display of the lift. My heart beats like an air hammer. What the hell is this about? I swallow nervously, my palms are sweating. I must take another glance at the video. Could it be just some kind of joke? Or a mistake? No way! That thing on the screen is obviously Honey’s inviting backside. To whom else would my wife want to send a nude picture of herself if not to me? There can be no mistake, damn it! I break out in cold sweat, my pulse shoots up to about 200. I must have a peek again. The lift has stopped. People are coming in and walking out. I take out the mobile phone, and position it at an angle that definitely no one else can see it but me. I start playing, and after a few seconds it hits home: there can be no mistake. Good God! Honey has sent me a sex video. I stare at it with my mouth agape, as the water runs down her perfect boobs… oh… I miss them so much! Paralyzed, I clutch the phone and make an effort to close my mouth before my saliva starts dripping down my chin. I can’t believe this is true! My little girl. My sexy, graceful bombshell, my charming, hot princess. I lean against the wall, the lift turns with me. A lustful wave drags over my body as I watch her soaping herself with wanton moves. A warning kind of pulsation starts spreading from my crotch to the rest of my body. Too bad. Chill, boy! Sure as hell, you will not have a job for about two more days, so… I’m in a lot of trouble, but the screen has cast a spell on me. I can’t take my eyes off her mind-blowing body. My breathing is uneven, my pants suddenly feel too tight. How can she do this to me? The film is not the clearest, yet, I involuntarily groan as she removes the shower head and starts moving it down her wonderfully moist curves. Is that really…? Tim turns towards me inquisitively as the lift stops with a thud. Damn! I quickly pause the video and slide the phone into my pocket. This is our floor. We should get off.

I’m wondering if it would be too bad if I said I have to make a quick call, and we’ll meet in the restaurant. I cut in behind Randy, in order to cover my stiffness which had grown quite big by now. I’m done for. This thing has taken me by complete surprise. No news from her since last night and now this. I wipe my moist forehead. Damn it! I need a little privacy, and right now. At the reception we are told where our table is, but before we move on, I excuse myself and start walking towards the lavatory. I do the last few yards as though running. At this moment I don’t give a shit what they think about me. I feel puzzled. The mixture of anger due to bad timing, shock and sexual frustration inside me is threatening with a blast at any minute. I rush into the men’s room, tear one of the doors open, enter a cubicle and close it on myself. Panting, I lean against the wall and take out the cell phone. I left it where she was moving the shower head down her belly. I press ‘play’, and the show goes on. With a fixed gaze and a stiff dick, I hold my breath as I position the display. I’m lost. I know this woman is my destiny. I have had my share of sexual practices that were out of the ordinary, but this one – my wife stroking herself under the shower while groaning my name – is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. I reach down with one hand and undo the button on my trousers. It flashes through my mind that I’m actually really old for things like this. That is, for wanking at a public toilet, but I simply can’t do anything about it. I’m feeling so aroused that in this state I have no chance to go back and talk business with the Yanks. I unzip my fly and grab myself. “What are you doing to me?” I moan, lost, still staring at the video, and my hand begins to move.

~

HANNAH & JAMIE

Jamie:„WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?”

What the f*** have you done to me?

Hannah:„?”

Of course I know what you mean…

Jamie: “Do you have an idea how damn hard it is to talk about CAD software in a crowded restaurant with a huge hard-on in my pants and erotic images in my head about your naked bum?”

I bet you don’t.

Hannah: “Well, what could I say? I don’t. Not about that one.”

This means he’s seen the video.

Jamie: “Damn it, Honey!”

Damn it, Honey!

Hannah: “So you didn’t like it?”

Oh, hell. I knew it was a stupid idea.

Jamie:“What do you mean I didn’t like it? Are you crazy?”

Is she serious?

Hannah: “So you liked it?”

What’s going on, then?

Jamie: “Sweetie. Thanks to your sexy little video, I almost missed my meeting, because I was masturbating in the men’s room like a horny teenager.”

I hope she will delete the video before unauthorized individuals get to see it. In that case, I would have to strangle some people.

Hannah:“Oh.”

Will I ever get used to his outspoken nature? I doubt it. Although, if I am honest, I would probably have ended up in the ladies’ room, doing the same thing, if he had done this to me. Hell. I have to urgently delete that video!

Jamie: “Delete the vid, Honey!”

Only I can see her this way.

Hannah:„”

Jamie: “I’m not kidding.”

I’m not kidding, damn it!

Hannah: “Nor am I. I’m deleting it.”

Jamie: “Baby, I must see this show live too.”

Oh, crap. The mere thought gets me hot. Get your shit together, Hailey!

Hannah: “I hope you know that I have never ever done…”

Not ever, not even for HIM.

Jamie: “I’m glad to hear this, Mrs. Hailey. Seriously.”

That means she has never acted so untamed, not even with HIM. Only with me, just for me. I’m absolutely done for.

Hannah: “Come home soon!. I miss you.”

I need you.

Jamie: “I’ll be with you the day after tomorrow. Be ready!”

Hannah: „Can’t wait!”

Jamie: “Better not wear panties at all.”

Hannah: “You owe me, Mr. Hailey.”

What a bad girl am I today.

Jamie: “What do you mean exactly, Mrs. Hailey?”

Hannah: “That very thing, Mr. Hailey ;-)”

Jamie: “I will settle my debt, I promise. I must go now. Will call from the hotel.”

Hannah: “♥”

Jamie: “Me too”

You don’t have the foggiest, how much.

~

HANNAH

The clock says 11. This means it must be about 3 PM in Seattle. What could he be doing? I’m lying on my bed, trying to read. The point being in the ‘trying’. I can’t concentrate, I’m reading the same page for about the fourth time. I keep thinking about Jamie and our exchange of messages today. I have changed a lot during the time I’ve lived with him. I do things that I’ve never even dreamed about. And in the meantime, I feel liberated, full of life, like never before. Jamie has transformed me, and I’m glad he did that. He says he has always treated me differently. Ever since we were children, I’ve had a special effect on him, and he’s always longed to be near me. When he is with me, he is able to open up, he cares for me, he wants to look after me, and my feelings are the most important to him. He himself said these things, and his confession fills me with indescribable joy. This means that we are mutually affecting, shaping one another.I hug Moustache, but even my old fluffy friend can’t heal my longing today.

As soon as Gran and David step out of the door, I put my hair up, pull on the yellow rubber gloves and start my frustration-treatment clean-up routine. The kitchen really needs that. Since I took Gran home from the hospital, I haven’t allowed her to do anything. She didn’t like it, but I had to dig my heels in to ban her from housework. I could see the silent shock on her face when she noticed the chaos in her beloved kitchen. No wonder, on my list of priorities, cleaning was obviously at the bottom in recent days. I take the opportunity now as David takes her out for a walk in the park. Then he will spoil her with a cake in a sweetshop. I get myself ready for housework. I take out all the scrubbing powder available, the grease-removal spray, the lime scale remover, the surface cleaners, everything I can find and test them one by one. Since Jamie left, I only visited his apartment once to get more clothes. Okay, I’ve got to call it our apartment. The truth is, it’s hard to think of it as my own, especially when I’m there alone. I haven’t had the time to get used to the enormous, freakishly clean and organized place. When we spend time there together, I have no such thoughts. Then I simply enjoy being with him, no matter the location. But when I went there on my own the other day, and the clatter of my own shoes echoed in the empty apartment, it felt so strange and lonely.

This apartment issue has been a hot potato between us. I wouldn’t say I am negligent, I’m actually all for tidiness. Yet, I couldn’t say either that I sacrifice myself on the altar of housework. I sometimes leave my undies on the floor, or I forget my cardigan on the arm of a chair, and so on. But these are the very things that Jamie would never ever do. My chin dropped when I walked into his wardrobe the first time. The jackets, shirts, and other tops were all organized by colours – in his case, from black through grey to white – lined neatly on their hangers. His underwear and socks were folded and laid on top of each other with geometrical accuracy in the drawers. His ties were hanged at exactly an inch’s distance from each other, and needless to say, sorted by their shades. I know such things are important to him. As he explained to me, it’s important that his environment be tidy and well-organized. For this reason, when I moved my stuff from Gran’s, initially I was super careful not to upset the military-like order he keeps in his wardrobe. I swear I tried it, but it became fussier and fussier, and with time, I probably dropped the habit of making sure that the corners of my tops kept a perfect right angle with his sweaters. On more than one occasion, I saw the shock on Jamie’s face as he entered the wardrobe, and he saw I had messed up his perfectly organized empire of clothes. He was so sweet, never said a bad word about this, but I could tell how stressed he was. It also happened that my little maniac re-folded my clothes himself, which, of course, made me feel like crap. And then, driven by a thought – ‘To hell with it! Life is too short to fall out because of some socks and tops’ – he eventually had the wardrobe enlarged. Now the left side is his, and the right side is entirely mine, where I can be as messy as I want.

Another source of conflict between us is the kitchen. Poor thing, at first his heart missed a beat when I didn’t put everything back to its assigned place from the dishwasher. I agree it’s necessary to establish a certain kind of system, so one can find things quickly enough, but to expect the edges of the glass and the coffee cup don’t touch on the shelf… No thanks. Let’s not get so lost in the details. The problem is, it’s these exact nuisances that mean safety and harmony for him. I know it’s all because of Asperger’s, and I’m aware that his love for me makes him want to try hard to relax a little – although to say ‘try hard to relax a little’ is a contradiction by itself. But this remains an ongoing battle between us, and I know he struggles much harder than me. Every time he quietly chooses to ignore my forgetfulness, or when he doesn’t tell me off for ruining the well-established order in the apartment, is a sign of how important I am, and our marriage is, to him. There are things in which he will never change, and some of them drive me totally crazy, but to be perfectly honest, I don’t give a shit. I don’t want him to change. These very things make him the special man I have fallen head over heels in love with.

~

In a rush, I pay for the taxi and quickly move on to international arrivals. I miscalculated the time slightly with the clean-up, and now I’m a bit worried I’m late. I showered as fast as lightening, and only had time for makeup in the taxi. According to the arrivals board, the flight landed a while back. I hope I’m still in time! I lean against a post, press my palms against my chest, and relax a bit. I’m so nervous as if we haven’t seen each other for years. I took these past five nights worse than I had ever thought. I know it was neither of us’ fault that the events took such a turn, but I honestly hope we will never have to be apart for such a long time. I keep stretching my neck as the automatic door slides open, and people begin to flood outside. I suddenly catch sight of his tall, broad-shouldered figure in the crowd, and my pulse shoots to the sky. He also sees me, and pauses for a second. He’s wearing a black sweater, shabby blue jeans are hanging from his hips, and his shoes are an elegant pair of leather. A sight of testosterone on fire. I’m about to get a heart attack. His hair is a bit unruly and a little wet at the front. I can almost see him washing his face and brushing teeth in the transit’s restroom just before. I want to scream out with joy, but with the crowd around me, I just rush to meet him and throw myself in his arms. He drops his luggage onto the floor, wildly squeezes me against his body, digs his face into my hair, and repeats my name with passion. His touch triggers an unspeakable level of happiness in me. God! He’s with me again. His hand slides up my back and digs into my hair. He turns my face towards him, then for a few seconds, we just stare at one another silently.

“You…“ he starts, and an incredulous, sexy little smile appears in the corner of his mouth.

I have an idea what he might mean, which makes me blush immediately, and blink downwards. He puts a finger under my chin, and lifts my head, so I’m forced to look at him. He shakes his head and heaves a deep sigh.

“You drive me crazy. I’ve got a terribly long six days behind me,” he says after a while, and leaning forward presses his forehead against mine.

“Much too long. But now that I’ve got you back finally, don’t even dream about disappearing again!” I say teasingly, and plant a tiny kiss on his mouth.

People are hustling around us, and all I can think of is to be alone with him at last. My kiss makes him close his eyes, and I can feel his goose bumps. He wants me too. His voice comes out hoarse and full of desire as he speaks.

“I want to be alone with you. Let’s go home right now!” he echoes my very thoughts, at which I pull an involuntary smile.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that somebody has stopped by our side and is watching us. I turn, but it doesn’t register straight away that Randy and his wife are standing beside us, waiting for a chance to say goodbye. Only when Jamie introduces us do I realize that I’ve actually seen the guy at the office. His wife is a kind, petite, pretty lady. She thanks Jamie for the wonderful trip, and offers her belated congratulations on our wedding. The men shake hands, say goodbye, and the couple starts walking towards the exit, pushing the luggage cart in front of them. Jamie heaves a big sigh, grabs the handle on his suitcase, and wraps his other arm around my waist. The air is aflame between us. I don’t know how it’s possible, but my skin gets peeping hot under his palm even though I’m wearing three layers of clothing. I try to calm down and ask him about the plane journey. He gives one-word replies, but in a polite manner. I know that he has something completely different on his mind, just like I do. I’m surprised as we suddenly change the direction, and we’re no longer walking towards the taxi station. Then I realize that Jamie came to the airport by car, and it’s parked in the Business Garage. I can hardly help myself, I’m about to explode with joy that we’re together again. I’m absolutely dying to rip the clothes off him at last. Could be the tension, but my mouth has gone as dry as the Sahara. As we drive past a restaurant, I involuntarily turn my head there, but what really gets my attention is the vending machine next to the entrance. Jamie follows my eyes with a furrowed brow and slows down. Oh, hell! Could he be hungry? He might want to eat something after the long journey. I, of course, was so preoccupied with the thought to cook something for Gran that I completely forgot to shop for us. What a great housewife I am, right? He stops the car and turns to face me with worry.

“Are you hungry?”

I shake my head. Eating is currently the last thing I could think of.

“Did you eat?”

I slowly shrug and say no.

“And you?”

“There was some food on the plane, but if you want, we can stop here,” he says reluctantly.

“The thing is, you’ll not be very impressed with me when you see our fridge at home. I had no time to cook. I spent the whole day at Gran’s,” I say, blinking with innocence.

He scratches his chin and looks at me pensively. His eyes are aflame, full of desire, and I have the feeling it’s me he’d rather devour.

“One option is that we go in to have dinner at this place, and in 3 minutes I’ll probably lay you down on the table and make you mine.”

His words sound dead serious, almost matter-of-fact. I listen to him with my mouth agape, unable to decide whether he’s fooling me or not. Since I’m still lost for words, he continues.

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t look too good if I shagged you in the restaurant,” he says, tilting his head, but his face is serious as hell.

I swallow a few times before I find my voice again. I shake my head and give him a humble smile.

“No. It really wouldn’t look good. Plus… I really only wanted to buy a bottle of water from the machine,” I add, twisting a strand of hair around my finger.

He slowly licks his lower lip, nods, and with a bright face, conjures a small bottle of mineral water from his pocket. This guy is amazingly efficient! He impresses me every time. I unscrew the cap and take a few gulps. Then, I hand the bottle back to him.

“We are left with the other option, then. We find the car, and on our way home we buy something.”

“Or… we go straight home and order food from there,” I suggest, biting my lower lip.

A lustful grin spreads on Jamie’s face.

“Not bad, Mrs. Hailey.”

He draws me to him and presses his mouth onto mine, kissing me strongly, demandingly. The kiss becomes deeper, it gets more intense, and it will not end. With one hand, I hold on to the back of his neck, and with the other, to his shoulder. My knees are replaced by a jelly-like substance; I can hardly stand on my feet. Panting, I try to breathe, and I whisper his name pleadingly. He pulls his mouth away and looks into my eyes from very close. He’s also out of breath.

“To the car,” he orders briefly, grabs the handle of his suitcase, and with firm footsteps, starts walking towards the garage, dragging me along.

Hand in hand, we finally get to the car. Jamie opens the Rover’s boot and puts his suitcase and hand luggage in. He takes me to the front seat, opens the door for me, but before letting me get in, he pushes me against the door with his hips. He grabs the nape of my neck and kisses me wildly. I groan into his mouth with lust and slide my hand under his sweater. Now it’s only his shirt that separates me from feeling his skin. Damned fabric! I start to pull the shirt out of his trousers, but then, the sound of suitcase wheels hits my ear, from much too close. People are passing by, most probably on their way to their cars. Jamie closes his eyes with agony, and gasping, takes a step back so as to let me sit inside. I look into the rear view mirror, taken aback at the sight of the red-faced, messy-haired woman whose eyes are glittering with excitement, and who is blinking back at me. Could that really be me?

Jamie goes around the vehicle in a moment and gets in beside me. We turn to face one another, our eyes meet. I make a quick calculation. It’ll be at least 45 minutes to Regent’s Park if we are lucky with traffic. Out. Of. The. Question. In this moment, I can very clearly read his mind. It’s not too hard, because I’m thinking exactly the same. He curses between his teeth and shakes his head.

“Back seat?” he mumbles hoarsely.

I nod eagerly, drop my shoulder bag on the floor, get out of my leather jacket, and start climbing to the back between the two seats. Luckily, this car is as big as a yacht. Without any difficulties, I reach the back seat, and just then, the car door is quickly yanked open. Jamie hops in, slams the door shut, and with shivering hands, pulls me onto his lap. I position myself on top of him. It comes in handy now that the Rover’s back windows are darkened. I hug his neck and surrender to his wanton kisses with sighs of pleasure. His fingers are grabbing my hair, his tongue thrusts deep inside my mouth, exploring, as if trying to possess me once again. We’re no longer talking. We’re both too overheated and frustrated for conversation. Impatiently, I rip his sweater off, and as I‘m fiddling with his shirt, he comes to the rescue, pulling it over his head with just one move, dropping it onto the leather seat. I drink in eagerly the wonderfully arousing sight. Charmed, I stick my palm onto his bare stomach, and a lustful sigh bursts from both of us. He jumps at me and drags my sweater off. He stretches my blouse over my breasts until the tiny buttons practically come off and are scattered all over the back seat. This is not the first blouse that Mr Hailey has ruined on me. I should’ve been smart enough to put on a T-shirt today!

“I’ll buy you another one,” he pants, while freeing both of my breasts from the captivity of the bra, pushing the lace under my boobs.

His eyes are those of a maniac: fanatic, possessed and determined. This is exactly what I want. He takes me in his palms and begins to massage me, but he can’t hold back too long. He presses his lips around my nipples and begins to lick, suck and spoil me, sending waves of lust straight into my crotch. Wherever his skilful tongue touches me, I feel a concentration of pleasure. I undo his belt and the top button of his jeans. I begin to pull the jeans down, causing him to lift his hips in support, but it’s still not going fast enough. Our eyes meet, and as we grin at one another, I’m the luckiest and happiest chick in the wide whole universe. He lifts my butt and puts me aside, so he can pull off his pants. He takes a tiny plastic bag out of his jeans pocket, and tears it open with his teeth. I stare at it incredulously. Of course, it’s a good idea to use a condom for spontaneous car sex, but still…

“Are you saying that the condom was all this time in your pocket?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“In case I got lucky,” says the villain naughtily, and rolls the condom onto himself.

My chin drops at his witty response, surprise totally mutes me. I shake my head with a grin while kicking off my boots and peel my own jeans off. As soon as I can, I also take off my slip.

“Hmm. That should’ve been my job,” he complains, narrowing his eyes.

“Sorry. You’ll have an opportunity at home, I promise,” I say blinking innocently.

“Come here. Right now,” he mumbles.

His utterly aroused tool is ready for action, pointing north. The sight is scandalously exciting. Jamie reaches out, and pulls me onto him again. He slides a bit lower in the seat, my knees are on both sides of his thighs. One of his hands massages my butt and he positions the other between my legs. From the way his head is lustfully thrown back on the head rest, and the way he groans out loud, I know he’s satisfied with what he’s found.

“Oh, Honey! You have no idea how beautiful and hot you are. I completely lose my mind when you’re near me.”

“And also when I’m not,” I add with a sigh and allow myself a cheeky grin.

His eyes flash with menace. He knows I’m hinting about the video. He lifts my butt, and lets me onto himself with agonizing slowness. I hold my breath as my body takes him in, bit by bit. Grabbing his shoulders, I groan with the dizzying feeling of fullness. I feel like we’ve never been so close. He gives me a few seconds to get used to the situation, then grabs my hips and begins to move me. He moans my name with little intermissions, and I also say his. He suddenly pulls me closer, powerfully lifting his hips. I scream out with pleasure. He presses a palm over my mouth. He has a point. My scream has probably echoed through the whole gigantic parking building.

“Move,” he orders, and I obey at once.

I close my eyes tight, thus excluding from my thoughts the mental image of the rhythmically bouncing Range Rover. The lustful tension grows inside me with every move, and is about to erupt. We move in sync, our bodies meet half way, and crash into each other. His other hand finds my most sensitive spot, and begins to stimulate it with circling motions. I can feel it will be very quick this time. I’ve been longing for this practically since the moment he stepped out of the hospital six days ago. My muscles embrace his masculine part, my body goes stiff for a second, I moan inarticulately into his palm, then the waves of bliss suddenly splash over my head. I’m still shaking with pleasure when Jamie once again crashes into me at great force, and cums, falling to pieces. He groans so loudly that this time I have to stick my palm over his mouth. I open my eyes, and watch with pleasure as he lets all the steam out, the crazy waves calming inside him. His eyes glitter with happiness and satisfaction. He’s all finished. I can see that. And I’m also under a spell. I drop onto his chest, and we gasp a while longer in an embrace. I dig my face into his neck.

“I love you,” I whisper into his skin a hundred times.

“I love you too, Honey,” he answers, faster than lightening. Then, he rests his head against the back of the seat, and staring at the ceiling of the car, sighs deeply. I cast an observing look in his direction, and see that he is furrowing his brow. Something is bothering him, I’m sure about that, but before I have a chance to ask, he speaks up again.

“I’ve brought you a gift.”

“A gift?” I raise my eyebrows. I push myself away from his chest slightly, so that I can face him. He tries to smile, but hardly manages it. He looks hesitant. I know this expression. He’s like this when he’s not sure he has used the right words in a certain situation. I don’t doubt his unconditional love for me for a minute, but it’s a fact that Jamie is not a master of refined phrasing. The roughly straight-forward way in which he puts his feelings into words often puzzles or offends people, but I’m used to it. We haven’t seen each other for six days, and his absence was painful for me. And now, hardly had he got off the plane, we’ve practically thrown ourselves onto one another, wasting no time with sweet talk, just like wild beasts. He loves me, but he also thinks he might have hurt my feelings. He can’t tell if he’s been able to express his adoration in the right way, so he wants to give me a present. Typical Jamie. For him, sex and gifts are the two surest ways to express his affection without any misunderstandings. I smile. I just love him the way he is. Even if I could, I wouldn’t change a thing about him. I lightly run my hand along his stubbly chin.

“So you want to give me a present?” I say softly. I can see that he gulps, his Adam’s apple pops up and down nervously. He nods. “Because you’ve missed me?” I add. He nods again. “And because you love me,” I conclude with a smile, and the wall of uncertainty visibly crumbles in him, and finally a real smile appears in the corner of his mouth. He closes his eyes and breathes out with relief.

“More than I can say. But I swear, I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much.”

Could I wish for more? He couldn’t have said a more beautiful thing.

It’s only now that I begin to feel how chilly it is in the car. My bare bum is cold despite Jamie’s palm devotedly stroking it. I begin to squirm in his lap, and he starts breathing slow kisses onto my forehead. Then, as leans lower and reaches my mouth, he sucks my lower lip in with pleasure, taking his time.

“We’d better go home,” he whispers into my mouth.

“I agree. Before the police fines us for indecent exposure.”

He laughs, and even though I’m shivering, I cuddle him tighter.

“You’re cold,” he eyes me with a frown, and since I don’t deny it, he gets into action. Just like he always does.

He carefully pulls himself out of me, and removes the condom. He ties a knot on it, and wraps it into a tissue. Then he lifts me too, to let me sit next to him.

“I can’t believe I’m saying it, but… quickly get dressed, sweetie!”