And so, the next morning, I woke up with Jude’s head next to mine on the pillow again. The previous night, I’d been all set to send him packing after telling him exactly what I thought of men who slept with women and then fucked off without a word or a trace. But he’d disarmed me totally right from the moment I’d seen him on the stairs.
He’d got to his feet, a bit stiffly, like he’d been sitting there for a long time, and reached right over to give me a hug, pulling me close and saying, ‘Your hair smells amazing. I’ve been thinking about you so much.’
So why didn’t you call then? I thought. But he answered the question before I could get the words out.
‘I’m such a muppet, I completely forgot the name of the pub. And I don’t know your last name so I couldn’t find you on social media. I tried and tried. And then I came up to London for a Labour Party meeting today and when it finished I thought, I’m going to find her. And I did. I kind of remembered where the pub was in relation to the station and I just walked around until I saw it. And then I saw you, but you were busy and I didn’t want to interrupt so I just snuck in here and waited for you to finish. My God, it’s good to see you.’
Such was the sweetness of his smile and the comforting strength of his arms around me that all my resolve melted away, and I found myself hugging him back.
‘Why didn’t you get in touch with me?’ he murmured into my hair. ‘Every time I got a new email or a missed call or a connection on LinkedIn, I hoped it would be you. But it never was.’
‘I don’t know. I guess I thought that because you’d just left that morning, you didn’t want to see me again.’
‘As if!’ He cupped my face between his palms and kissed my lips, and I could feel his smile meeting my own. ‘I’ve been thinking about you all the time. I even dreamed one night that I was here with you and your cat was sleeping on my face so I couldn’t breathe, but when I woke up it was only my pillow.’
I couldn’t help laughing. ‘That must have been quite a relief.’
‘It should have been.’ He smiled down at me. ‘But it wasn’t. I even smelled the smell of your hair in my dream, and the whole day afterwards. It was like being haunted by a ginger ghost.’
Normally, when people described me as ginger, I bristled at the reminder of being teased at school. But I couldn’t muster even the slightest resentment now.
‘Come in,’ I said.
He stepped aside and I unlocked the door. He dumped his bag by the bed and headed for the bathroom while I sorted out Frazzle’s food and water and litter tray, and when I finished cleaning my teeth and washing my face, there he was in bed, waiting for me.
This time, we didn’t wait until the morning. As soon as I got under the duvet, Jude’s arms closed around me and we kissed, with an urgency that hadn’t been there the first time. Then, it had felt tentative and uncertain – Are we really going to do this? Oh, okay, looks like we are. Oh wait, we just did.
But now, my relief at seeing him and the confidence his words had given me allowed me to take the lead. I explored his body with my fingertips, running my hands over his chest beneath his T-shirt, discovering the arches of his ribs, the ridges of his stomach muscles, the silky hair running down his belly.
I pulled his T-shirt off over his head and knelt there above him, my legs either side of his thighs. He looked up at me, smiling.
‘Hey.’
‘Fancy seeing you here.’
We both laughed, and I lowered myself over him, kissing him again. Now, his hands were on my body, too, stroking my back, sliding under the waistband of my jeans to cup my bottom.
‘Come on, let’s get these off,’ he said.
I stood up and unbuttoned my jeans, thankful that I’d only been wearing flip-flops so there was no embarrassing sock-removal moment to negotiate. I had a moment of panic wondering whether I was wearing particularly old, ratty underwear, but it was okay – my bright red boy shorts were at least free of holes, if not the sexiest garment ever. I eased my jeans down over my hips, slowly, watching his eyes follow my hands down my legs.
I stepped out of my jeans and then, still slowly, pulled my vest top over my head. Annoyingly, there was no sexy way of doing that. I joined him on the bed again in just my bra and pants, trying to remember what the app – which had its risqué moments – had said about what Gemini men liked in bed. Hopefully not twin sisters, because I wouldn’t be able to stretch to those.
Jude took me in his arms again, holding me the way he had before, like I was something precious and fragile. His touch was feather-light, almost ticklish on my skin. He reached for the clasp of my bra and fumbled with one hand, before undoing it with two. No biggie – one-handed bra removal was expert-level undressing, I thought. The awkwardness that had been there last time was almost gone – almost, if not completely – blotted from my mind by my happiness and relief at seeing him.
And what was going on inside his boxer shorts distracted me from that, anyway – because that was a biggie. I reached down and touched his cock, running my palm over the bulge then sliding my fingers inside his pants to hold his warm hardness, loving the way he felt in my hand.
He touched my breasts, his fingers finding my nipples and then his mouth following them to kiss and suck. I heard him groan with pleasure and an answering gasp from me as his lips and tongue teased my flesh. I felt myself getting swept into a whirlpool of pleasure – his hands on my body, the feel of his skin against my palms and fingers, the gorgeous man-smell of him. I was desperate for him to carry on, to give me more and more and more, but at the same time, I wanted this moment of pure perfection to last forever. His other hand was inside my knickers now, touching me, reaching for me, finding almost the right place. So close. Almost there.
And then I felt a flood of hot wetness on my hand.
‘Oh shit.’ Jude pulled a pillow up over his face, like he was blushing and trying to hide it. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘That’s okay.’ I mean, what the hell else are you supposed to say?
‘It’s just, you’re so sexy. Too sexy. And it’s been…’
‘Sshh. Don’t worry.’
I pulled him close and held him, trying to ignore the cooling wetness of his pants against my thigh and subdue my disappointment. He kissed me again.
‘You’re amazing. Next time, I promise…’
‘It’s okay. It really is.’
He turned away from me, and I spooned myself against his warm back, feeling his breathing slow until, within minutes, he started to snore softly. Then Frazzle jumped up and settled into the crook of my knees and I knew I’d spend the night that way, wet patch on my sheets and all, unable to move for fear of disturbing these two sleeping boys.
When I woke up the next morning, though, Jude wasn’t there. When I opened my eyes, expecting to see him sleeping there, there was only the empty pillow and the duvet scrunched up to one side. Frazzle was sitting next to the closed bathroom door, looking deeply pissed off.
I sat up. Oh God, he hasn’t upped and left again, has he?
The thought lasered through my sleep-fogged brain. But no. His bag was still there, next to the bed where he’d left it, and I could hear the shower running. I got up, pulled on yesterday’s vest and pants, gave Frazzle his breakfast and switched the kettle on. A few minutes later, Jude emerged from the bathroom wrapped in my towel. He’d shaved, he smelled of toothpaste and my lemon-and-poppy-seed soap and his smile was like the sun coming out.