Cock & Bull - Laura Barnard Page 0,83

overwhelming weight seems to weigh on my body before its released. My eyes fling open and it’s like I can taste the early stars that have come out to watch us. Every muscle in my body rejoices as a calming balm soothes over me, making me moan so loud I worry cows in a distant field will hear me.

He tenses soon after, biting my neck as he finds his release.

We pant like that together in the beautiful after glow for what feels like hours. He eventually lifts his head, his eyes finding mine. I feel like he can see every thought I’ve ever had in my head. Like I’m laid bare for him, which I suppose in one way or another, I am.

‘That was amazing,’ he says, kissing me chastely on the lips.

‘U-huh.’ It’s all I can manage. I can still feel his teeth biting into my shoulder. Every caress.

I shiver, as he gets off me to remove the condom.

‘Don’t throw it in the river,’ I mumble. Dammit, I shouldn’t be thinking of the environment right now.

He chuckles. ‘I wasn’t going to.’ He comes back and leans over me. ‘Do you think you can walk?’

I shake my head. Definitely not. He chuckles again. I’ve decided it’s my favourite sound in the world. He gets dressed and throws my clothes inside the sleeping bag. Then he scoops me up, still inside it, and carries me all the way back. Luckily there’s no one in the pub. Not that I think I’d have cared anyway. Right now, in his arms, is exactly where I want to be.

Chapter Forty-Two

Friday 30th October

We’ve spent the last few days in Clooney’s bed having the most amazing mind blowing sex. We seem to venture between pure animalistic bitey sex to the more lazy, delicious, soul baring love making. I can’t work out which is my favourite.

All previous doubts of my own sexual ability have been erased.

I’m completely sated. I mean, the man is an orgasm machine. Ella is disgusted, but I know she’s secretly pleased for me with her hidden smiles. I keep waiting for her to tell me to be careful, to protect my heart from him, but I keep forgetting she’s not the sort. She’s normally the one making the terrible decisions about guys, not judging others. It’s one of the things I finally understand about her. It might be a mistake, but it sure is fun making it.

Clooney’s just gone out to the wholesalers to buy some crisps. I’m ashamed to say that we’ve eaten most of them ourselves. I bloody love the Tayto crisps they have over here. Plus Clooney got me to try red lemonade. Oh my God, total game changer. And I have always loved potatoes. Maybe that small Irish streak in me is stronger than I originally thought.

I hear the door swing open so I plaster on my customer smile. Professional, friendly and polite.

‘Hi, what can I -’ I stop when I realise its Clooney’s dad that’s just walked in. ‘Oh.’

He stalks up to the bar, nostrils flaring. A dart of apprehension shoots through me. God I hate this guy.

‘I came in to tell you and your pathetic sister that your little stint didn’t last long. I’m back up and running, and you are going to seriously regret crossing me.’

‘Is…’ I steel my spine, attempting to look unafraid. ‘Is that a threat?’

He slams his fist down on the bar so hard I jump. ‘You bet your arse it is.’

‘Well then I suggest.’ My voice pitches high and wobbly. ‘You leave before I’m forced to call the guards.’

He sneers at me. ‘My son’s done a real number on you, hasn’t he? I can see it in your face.’

I look away from him. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Do not let him get in your head. I hate his poisonous lies.

‘He’s charmed you, I can tell. But I can tell you now that you don’t know everything about Clooney.’

Oh here we go. I roll my eyes.

‘What, like his gambling problem?’ I ask, hand on my hip.

His jaw falls open. I wish I could take a picture of him right now, because he is seriously stumped. There’s no way he thought I knew that.

‘Oh, so he’s told you.’ He scratches his protruding belly. ‘Well.’ He raises his eyebrows. ‘If you want to take on his thirty grand debt, be my guest.’

Jesus, thirty grand? I assumed ten grand tops. How wrong was I? Still, I school my features and try to look unaffected.

‘We