My Husband's Son - Deborah O'Connor Page 0,108

into me. Then, breaking away briefly to check the boy was still glued to the television, I reached for his crotch. He was hard. I began stroking him through his jeans. He moaned and so I kept going, bringing him on, judging his breathing, and as soon as I could tell he was close, I withdrew.

His eyes snapped open.

‘Don’t tease,’ he said, this voice thick with drink and desire.

‘What about Mikey?’ I said nodding at the boy.

Tommy’s eyes roamed and blinked as he struggled to locate him in the room.

‘I want you,’ I whispered, massaging his thigh, ‘but not with him here.’ I moved away, back against the cushions. ‘We’ll wait till later, when he’s gone to sleep.’

My trap set, I studied my nails, praying for him take the bait. He said nothing and as the seconds ticked, I started to panic. If this didn’t work then I was out of ideas. But then, just when I’d given up all hope, he cleared his throat and looked towards the TV.

‘Mikey!’ he shouted.

Reluctantly, the boy turned away from the cartoon.

‘I need to have a private conversation with Heidi. Can you do what you did before and wait in the bathroom? You were so good last time, so quiet,’ said Tommy. ‘Like a little mouse.’

Mikey smiled, unable to resist the praise, but then his gaze was drawn back to the screen.

‘But I’m watching Power Rangers.’

‘You can take your iPod Touch with you.’

‘Okaaayyy,’ he relented.

As soon as I heard the bathroom door click shut, I went over to the bed and lay down. I’d managed to get the boy as close to the exit as possible and now it was time for the next part of my plan: making Tommy drop his guard. I beckoned him towards me and he did as I asked, a little unsteady on his feet.

I tried not to think about the line I was about to cross. To go through with this I had to remain numb. If I were to let myself consider the consequences of what I was about to do for even one second, I would falter and to falter would be to fail.

He was too drunk to unbutton my blouse and so, after groping at my breasts, he turned me onto my front. I got up on all fours and, before long, I heard my tights rip and felt him pushing my skirt up around my waist.

There was the jangle of his belt buckle as he undid his jeans and then a slight dip in the mattress as he knelt behind me. Leaving my knickers in place, he placed a single finger against my gusset. Applying the tiniest pressure, he waited until he felt the cotton blot and then, very slowly, he inched it to the right. Finding the gap between the fabric and my skin he slipped his finger inside and held it there. Testing, teasing. Making me ask for it.

I held out for as long as I could and then, closing my eyes, I stretched my arms out towards the headboard and pushed back towards him, like a drowning woman reaching for shore.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Once he was done, he collapsed and we both lay there, panting. Unable to move from underneath the weight of his body, my face stayed pressed into the duvet, my ribcage crushed into the mattress. He took a few seconds to recover himself and then, after kissing the back of my neck, he rolled off onto the bed next to me.

I turned my head towards the exit, trying to plan an escape. If I could move to the edge of the bed, I might be able to get up under the pretence of wanting to put my clothes straight. Then, if that worked, I could run the three steps to the bathroom, open the door, grab the boy’s hand and pull him out to the hotel corridor.

I flattened my palms onto the quilt and tensed my shoulders. I’d yet to hear his belt buckle clink, which meant his boxer shorts and jeans were still tangled somewhere round his ankles. Hopefully, when he tried to make chase, this would slow him down considerably.

I was about to push myself upright when I felt Tommy’s arm snaking across my back. Hooking his hand around my hip, he spooned me towards him and nuzzled his face into my shoulder. I froze. But then he began making a peculiar, high-pitched whistling noise. I turned to look at him. He was snoring, his face slack

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