Sexy Beast Read online

  ‘Hi,’ I greet breathlessly.

  He leans over and kisses me. I’ll say this for him: the man can kiss. In seconds I want to throw my arms around his neck, curl my fingers in his hair, and climb over to his side of the car to lower myself on to his thick cock. My skin tingles. My head starts buzzing. My hand strays to his hard chest.

  ‘What was that for?’ I whisper, when he breaks away.

  His eyes are smoky with desire. He places his finger on my lower lip and drags it along my skin. His voice drops to a faux whisper that caresses my skin. ‘Because you’re so damn beautiful.’

  I drop my eyes and go all hot and red with sheer happiness.

  He places a finger under my chin and lifts my face. ‘Isn’t that what all the boys who aren’t afraid of your brother tell you?’

  My stomach flips. ‘I think there are more boys afraid of my brother than you think.’

  ‘Since I’m not in the firing line yet, let me tell you, Layla. You’re one hell of a beauty.’

  ‘You’re not so bad looking yourself,’ I say shyly.

  ‘Me? I’m an ugly mug. You, you’re another matter. You truly are the beginning of intoxication.’

  ‘That reminds me, how is it you know so much about my name. Even I thought Layla meant of the night in Arabic.’

  ‘Because I researched it, Princess.’

  ‘Is that why you bought a tiepin with the word Layla on it?’

  His face closes over.

  I frown. ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’ He turns away and starts the engine. ‘So Lily is having a homebirth. When?’

  ‘Well,’ I say settling myself into the seat. ‘The baby is not due for another three weeks.’

  ‘And Jake is OK with a homebirth?’

  ‘Oh, he didn’t like it one bit at first, but being the total control freak that he is, he went out and offered the best midwife in England so much money she is going to uproot her entire family, 3 kids no less, to go and stay at his house two weeks before the baby is due. From what I understand, the poor woman will be virtually a prisoner until the baby is born. Of course he’s also hired a whole medical team to be on standby just in case there’s any kind of complication.’

  He laughs. ‘That sounds more like him.’ He sobers suddenly. ‘When do you plan to tell him about us?’

  It is my turn to sober up. ‘I want to tell him, but he’s so happy at the moment. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so full of laughter. Can you believe he sings to his baby?’

  He turns to look at me briefly, his eyebrows raised.

  ‘I just don’t want to spoil this time for him. I’ll tell him after the baby is born.’ I pause for a second. Then, I don’t know why, perhaps I am testing him, I add, ‘If we are still together by then.’

  His face registers no change, but his hands tighten on the wheel. ‘OK,’ he says tightly. ‘We wait until after the baby is born, but if I am in a position where he asks me outright I’m not going to lie.’

  ‘That’s fair enough.’

  After that we talk of things outside of us. Some of it is light and easy and I laugh a lot, but I come to realize quickly that BJ sees everything from a totally different perspective than me. A much darker, more cynical perspective. He is my total opposite in every way. We disagree on almost all the important aspects of life. He seems to be without the usual social pretensions that normal people indulge in. To start with, he doesn’t have a Facebook page. He thinks all social media is narcissism gone berserk. He is of the opinion that only birds should tweet. Having 865 Internet friends is ludicrous. And wait for it … he has never taken a selfie!

  He says he will go back to church again when someone explains where black people came from since Adam and Eve were both lily white. He believes that people should not be trusted since the strongest human traits—greed, jealousy, envy, cruelty—are inborn and already active even in children. Humans have to be taught kindness, generosity, patience, and goodness. BJ believes those traits can only be a thin veneer for the real truth, a cauldron of negative emotions.

  ‘So you don’t trust me?’ I ask him, my voice is light, my manner is flirtatious, but in fact I am really curious as to what he will say.

  He throws a brief glance at me. ‘Where does your mother think you are now?’

  ‘With Maddy,’ I say slowly.

  ‘Have I answered your question?’

  ‘Is there no one you trust?’

  ‘Jeremy. I trust him.’

  ‘That’s sad, BJ.’

  He shrugs carelessly. ‘Save your sympathy. I set it up like this because I like it this way.’

  ‘BJ, isn’t your mother alive?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And you don’t trust your own mother?’

  ‘Don’t get me wrong. I love my mother. I’d do anything for her but no, she hasn’t done much to inspire my trust.’

  ‘My God. What kind of childhood did you have?’

  He gives me a sideways glance. ‘It wasn’t like yours.’

  ‘So you’ve never trusted anyone in your life?’

  ‘I trusted my father.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he always showed me his real face. At all times I knew exactly what he was and what I could expect from him.’

  Then he is turning into Silver Lee. We go into the house and it is silent, but an amazing lunch has been set out on the dining table. It is almost like being in a fairy tale. Like in Beauty and the Beast when the father finds the deserted palace and a table set with a princely meal.

  There is a note on the table. BJ picks it up and reads it.

  I am so caught up in the Beauty and the Beast scenario I think that the note might be important. ‘What does it say?’ I ask curiously.

  He passes it to me.

  There is a tall jug of mojitos

  waiting in the fridge.

  Marcel

  He looks at me, sexy smile on his face. ‘Well, what do you want to do first? Eat or fuck?’

  If any other man had said that I’d have slapped him and called him a coarse jerk. But BJ, he’s the shining hero in the movie I’m directing, producing, and starring in.

  And God! I want him.

  ‘Fuck,’ I say with half-closed, sultry eyes. Turning, I begin to walk away while undressing at the same time. The dark green top goes over my head and on the floor. My bra follows. I turn around and he is just behind me, staring at my breasts possessively. The desire to press my naked body against him is astonishingly strong, white-knuckle strong.

  I lie on a long lilac couch and shimmy out of my skirt and panties. I am suddenly almost feverish with need. Daringly I open my legs wide. He gets down on his haunches and slides his hand up my leg, towards my distended, swollen clitoris. With precise, knowing strokes he rubs the flesh around it. His carnal expertise is irresistible.

  I squirm and whimper.

  It has never crossed my mind that I would ever be so wild for a man.

  He brings his head closer and I prepare for his tongue. Instead a flow of warm air hits my exposed sex.

  ‘Ah,’ I cry at the exquisitely delicate sensation. Like a fine wine or the faint earthy flavor of truffle shavings on a plate of buttery pasta. My eyes close to fully savor it. When his silky tongue touches my clit it is unexpected and shockingly intense. My body arches like a bow. He licks the pulsing flesh like a kitten. He slides his fingers deeper inside me and pumps them furiously. My body heats up and sweat dampens my skin. I grasp his hair and curl my legs around his large body, the way he taught me to.

  ‘Please,’ I beg.

  He lifts his head and unlocking my legs, opens me wide. He stands and looks down at me splayed and ready for him. With heavy-lidded eyes he starts to undress. He discards his pants and my gaze moves to the well-defined, hard bulge in his white briefs. The thick mushroom head is already poking out of the top of his underwear. He stops. My eyes move up to his and hot blood rushes up my throat to be caught looking at his erection so hungrily. I h
ave never stared at a man like this. Not ever.

  He fits a rubber on himself and, putting his hands on either side of me, mounts me. He pounds me hard a few times. There is something frenzied and electric about the urgency of his thrusts. I know then that he cannot wait any longer. I milk the cream of his body with my own and he explodes, his head thrown back and utterly silent.

  For seconds his face is buried in my breasts. He might even have gently sucked my nipple, I am in a daze of contentment. Then he rouses himself and, looking into my eyes, brings me to climax.

  ‘You’re beautiful when you come,’ he whispers. His face is flushed and his eyes are the softest black.

  Afterwards, we eat, but I find I have hardly any appetite. Every time his eyes rest on me, I feel my lack of underwear, how wet I am, and how much I long to have him back inside me.

  Maddy’s call interrupts our total absorption with each other. She tells me my mother is looking for me. I didn’t hear my phone while we were having sex. I look up at BJ. His eyes are expressionless. He listens to me call my mother and lie about where I am and what I am doing since I am not with Maddy after all. It is easy to lie to Ma. She isn’t expecting me to. I end the call and face him.

  ‘I’ll get the mojitos,’ he says and walks away. Strange. He is the criminal and yet he is the more honorable of us.

  TWENTY-ONE

  BJ

  When I come back with the drinks she has slipped into my t-shirt and is seated in a recess of one of the tall windows. Twelve feet of pale yellow glow from the wintry evening sun falls on her wonderful, thick hair and tinges it with a light that I have only seen in paintings from the great Dutch masters. Perhaps a Rembrandt.

  A living spectacle.

  She turns to look at me and smiles a smile that nearly knocks me backwards. I have been with countless women, all of them beautiful, vibrant and sexy. But she makes them all pale into insignificance. The thought is terrifying and beautiful. Never again will I be with a woman who can satisfy me the way she does.

  I stand over her and hold out the drink. She takes it with both hands. She is the first woman who has persuaded me to drink a mojito. And now I fucking like it!

  ‘You promised me a tour,’ she says. There is a hint of laughter in her voice. I love that about her. Only children and the truly innocent have that. I don’t really want to show her my sex room, but she stands and holds out her hand. So we go through the entire house until we get to the sex room. I open the door and she goes in, flicks the switch, and the disco lights come on. She touches the switch beside it and Kanye West’s Gold Digger fills the room. For a few seconds she says nothing.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I see what I have never seen before. I see how bad it really is. How stupid and vulgar and truly ugly and cringingly embarrassing it is. What was I thinking bringing her here? She is too grand for this gaudiness. I want to usher her out immediately and rip it all up.

  Slowly she turns to look up at me and I swear I stop breathing. Her shoulders come up as she is about to be sick, but instead of being sick, her mouth trembles. I’ll be damned. She is trying not to laugh! I don’t know what is worse. That she should think it hideous or laughable.

  ‘Come on, let’s go,’ I say brusquely.

  She grabs my arm. ‘No, no, I think it’s great. Really.’

  I look at her curiously. Is she serious?

  She gestures around her. ‘Everything all at once like this. I’ve just never seen it before. That’s all.’ She becomes serious. ‘But in fact, I should have expected it. It’s you. You say it like it is. There’s no pretense. No veneer of what is socially acceptable. It is what it is. A room for sex. If someone gets brought here, they’ll know without any doubt what you want from them.’

  She walks into the room, heads for the bed, and sits on the edge. She pats the space next to her and strangely I don’t feel my cock rise to the occasion. Instead I feel a horrible feeling in my gut that even just sitting on that bed would somehow contaminate her.

  She pats it again and smiles slowly.

  I walk over and sit next to her. She climbs into my lap. My cock forgets its reservations and stirs to life.

  ‘I was thinking of dismantling this room,’ I say.

  ‘Why? I like it. We can have funny sex here.’

  ‘Funny sex?’

  She draws away from me. ‘Yeah, like when you bang your head on the headboard, laugh, and then have sex anyway.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘You’ve never had funny sex?’ she asks incredulously.

  ‘I guess not.’ And judging from her description it’s not something I’m going to rush to try either.

  She tilts her head to one side and I feel something inside me melt. Shit, I’m done for. This woman has me all tied up in knots. She tries to tickle my midriff. I’m not ticklish. Her fingers move to my armpits. I shrug. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘You’re really not ticklish?’

  Her expression of incredulity is adorable and I laugh.

  ‘There you go,’ she says laughing and pushes me backwards towards the bed. She puts her palms on either side of my face and brings her open mouth to mine. Ah, the kiss. This is not me kissing her. This is her kissing me. Soft. Her mouth is so soft and sweet. Smelling of mojitos and sugar and Layla. My Layla.

  It seems that I like funny sex after all.

  What part of her flesh have I not tasted? Her smell adheres to my hands and nails.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Layla

  ‘Congratulate me. I’m an aunt,’ I shout excitedly into the phone.

  ‘Brilliant. How’s the mother?’ BJ asks.

  ‘She’s fine. Now ask me how the father is.’

  He laughs. ‘How’s Jake?’

  ‘Freaking out. You should see him. He’s so crazy about his baby he won’t even let anyone else carry her. I had to elbow him out of the way to even look at her.’

  ‘So everyone is happy.’

  ‘Yeah, everyone is really happy. I’ll send you a picture of her. She’s got hairy ears, but ma says even I had hairy ears when I was born and it will fall off.’

  ‘You still have hairy ears.’

  ‘Quit it or I’ll send you the pictures where she still has cottage cheese all over her body.’

  He bursts out laughing.

  ‘Layla,’ my mother calls from behind me.

  ‘Got to go, Maddie, I’ll speak to you later, OK?’ I say and quickly cut the connection.

  ‘Are you staying for dinner?’ my mother asks. She is so happy she is glowing like it’s Christmas morning. This is her first grandchild and an event she has been praying for ever since Jake turned 21.

  I touch her hand. ‘Might not be a good idea, Ma. I have to work tomorrow. I’ll come back on the weekend.’

  ‘Are you leaving now then?’

  ‘Yeah, before the traffic gets heavy.’

  ‘Do you want me to make you a sandwich before you go?’

  ‘No, I’ll go and say goodbye to Jake and Lily and be off.’

  ‘Lily is sleeping. Poor thing is exhausted.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll just go say goodbye to my brother and my niece then.’

  ‘Come and see me in the kitchen before you go. I’ve made some food for you to take back.’

  ‘OK,’ I say and run up the stairs of Jake’s house. I stand at the door of the nursery transfixed by the sight of Jake bent over Liliana’s cradle.

  ‘Hey,’ I say softly and he looks up, his expression soft.

  ‘Hey,’ he whispers.

  I walk up to the cot. He is gently stroking her cheek with his finger.

  ‘Congratulations, Jake. Other than the hairy ears she’s beautiful.’

  He looks up at me, a huge, stupid grin on his face. ‘She is, isn’t she.’

  Suddenly I feel an overwhelming wave of love for my brother. All these years he never had anything for himself. To call his own. Always he was fighting all our battles. I blink back the tears.

  His eyes narrow. ‘Wha
t’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s just perfect.’

  He nods. ‘Are you going back to London now?’

  ‘Yeah. The traffic won’t be so bad now.’

  ‘Why don’t you stay a bit longer and let Shane drive you back?’

  I shake my head. ‘Then you’ll just have the hassle of sending my car back to me.’

  He frowns. ‘It’s no trouble.’

  I smile softly. ‘No, it is trouble for you. I’ll be back for the weekend.’

  ‘All right. Drive safely.’

  ‘I will.’

  That’s the thing about Jake. Even at a time like this he is worrying about me. I hug him tightly and go down to the kitchen. My mother is putting together plastic containers of food into two carrier bags. The containers are labeled so I know exactly what’s in them. Dom is sitting at the table finishing off a massive bacon and sausage sandwich.

  ‘Are you off?’ he asks me.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Didn’t you have something else you had to do?’ He puts the last bit of the sandwich into his mouth and raises his eyebrows meaningfully.

  I glance at my mother, but she is busy washing her hands.

  ‘I’m not doing it today. I’ll be back this weekend, I’ll do it then.’

  My brother wipes his mouth and stands up. ‘I’m off then. See you at dinnertime, Ma.’ As he passes me he whispers, ‘I wouldn’t wait beyond the weekend if I were you.’

  I watch my brother leave with a heavy heart.

  ‘Put this bag into the fridge and consume it today, tomorrow at the latest,’ my mother says. I turn back to her. ‘And the other bag, you can freeze it and eat on Thursday and Friday. You’ll be back here on Saturday, won’t you?’

  ‘Yeah. Thanks.’

  ‘Do you want to take some cake for Maddie too?’ my mother asks.

  ‘No, I’ll share what I’ve got with her.’

  ‘All right then,’ she says moving towards the fridge.

  ‘Ma,’ I say sinking into a chair.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Did you ever think we’d all turn out like this?’