s*x, Lies, Secrets & Wives

Chapter 2 - Walk of Shame

Waking the next morning Steph groaned as the pain in her head reached the pain receptacles in her brain. Rolling over she realised that she wasn't in her own bed causing a longer, louder groan to fill the room.

Having leapt up, something she immediately regretted as her brain seemed to shake inside her skull she quickly slumped back against the mattress.

“s**t!” She looked around at her surroundings, trying to remember what had happened the night before and who with.

There was an en-suite bathroom she could see and the white voile curtain panels were blowing in the breeze through the open patio door of the bedroom. She attempted to get up again, to get out of bed and realised she was naked.

“s**t!” she repeated as Jon appeared in the doorway.

“And good morning to you,” he said still sounding annoyed, although Steph was beginning to wonder if that was his ‘normal’ state of emotion or maybe that was just with her.

“Hi,” she muttered, hiding beneath a sheet as she attempted to hide her modesty, unless he was already familiar with her and her modesty.

“I was taking you home, but as you were incapable of telling me your address I brought you back here, to my flat.”

“I'm naked.” An embarrassed flush crept up her chest, neck and face.

“Yes you are, but not my doing. You managed that yourself and if you're wondering, we didn't screw. I like my s****l encounters to be willing, conscious and able to remember the event.”

“Oh, I did wonder, but couldn't recall,” she stammered and flushed further, a little more mortification as she realised she had just confirmed his first impressions of her being a bit slutty and a tramp.

“Well, trust me, you would have recalled if we had, but you don’t so we clearly didn't.” He now wore an expression that suggested he had a bad taste in his mouth.

“You don't like me do you?” she asked bluntly, unsure why his answer might matter quite so much.

He stared at her but didn’t answer her question. “Bathroom is over there and clean towels are in the cupboard.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a white t-shirt and a pair of joggers with a pull cord waist.

“They may be a little big, but preferable to the walk of shame home in last night's dress.”

“You didn't answer my question,” she challenged, somehow desperate to know that he didn’t dislike her and didn’t really believe she was a tramp.

“No, I didn't. Maybe I will over breakfast, or maybe I won’t.” He was already turning away.

Steph returned from showering and having brushed her teeth with her finger she found him waiting for her. He was dressed in blue jeans, a tight black t-shirt and trainers. He was impatiently spinning his keys on his finger.

“Come on.” He passed her last night’s shoes to put on while her clothes were in a plastic bag. “I will at least treat you to breakfast before taking you home, assuming you can remember where you live now.”

“I'm not really dressed to go out,” she said with a point down at her clothes, well, his clothes.

“Another reason to stay sober or dress appropriately, or both.” He led her out, ignoring her protest.

She quickly took in her surroundings and decided that she was in a bachelor pad, all white and chrome, minimalistic, simple, modern pieces of art adorned the walls, wooden and tiled floors, no carpets. As they stepped into the lift she felt a sense of deja vu. He stared at her and smiled. She smiled back feeling slightly confused and thought she should say something, but what?

“Nice lift,” she eventually came up with, but did have the decency to look embarrassed by that effort.

He stared at her blankly. “You seemed to think so last night.”

She stared at him again and closed her eyes tightly remembering that she had made a very clumsy pass at him in this very lift the previous night. She had cornered him and attempted to kiss him, but he’d rebuked her. It hadn’t bothered her last night when drunk, but this morning she was beyond embarrassed by it. Every time she decided she couldn’t be any more mortified she did something else or remembered something that disproved that.

Opening her eyes Steph jumped to find Jon standing directly in front of her.

“Your skills of seduction need some work, or maybe that was the drink too.” He laughed at her.

She was crimson now and nervously looked down at the bag in her hand containing last night’s dress, her knuckles turned whiter as her grip nervously tightened.

“Look at me.” He offered no real option of refusing, even if she’d wanted to and she really didn’t want to.

As her eyes met his he stared at her, no studied her. He stepped closer until she backed away, he stepped closer again and she backed off some more. He grinned and continued the process until he had her cornered.

“You see, I would have started the seduction like this, and once there was no place for you to go I would have done this,” he said as his hand came up to her face to brush a few stray hairs away. He then dragged a finger down her cheek and across her jaw, down to her neck. “Then I would have done this,” he told her as he lowered his face to hers until they were almost touching.

She could feel his warm, minty breath against her lips making her breath deeper and shiver. He still stared at her as his finger circled down her neck.

“And then,” he teased.

“What? What then?” she whispered making him grin at her.

“What do you think I would have done then, Stephanie?” He rested his lips against hers.

Neither of them spoke for long tense seconds until finally his lips moved, he teased and tormented her, just gently brushing his against hers. Then he pulled back slightly. She watched as he seductively licked across his own lips. She was transfixed by them and when it looked as though they were going to make their way back to hers she reached up to grab his arms for stability. Slowly she allowed her hands to slide down his arms until the soft palms of her hands covered the back of Jon’s hands, then with no warning or thought she drew his hands to her until they covered her swollen and aching breasts.

He pinched her already hardened n*****s firmly, firmly enough that it was just pleasurable, but painful too. His lips still hovered over hers.

“Don’t stop,” she heard herself begging.

He smiled at her broadly while his eyes laughed at her, but she didn't really care. She was so turned on by him she just needed him to kiss her, to touch her, whatever he wanted to do.

“When did you last have s*x?” he asked bluntly.

“My ex-boyfriend,” she started.

“When? Not who.” He took a small step back and removed his hands making her feel as though she was taking part in some kind of quiz show and she had clearly answered incorrectly.

“Sorry, about nine months ago,” she replied this time, unsure why she’d apologised to him.

“Really? You haven't managed to work your way through the accountants at work or the strippers and doormen in clubs?” He was back to disapproving, annoyed by her again Jon.

“No. You really do have the wrong idea about me,” she protested as the lift came to a stop. They passed a young couple entering the lift as they left.

“Really?” His tone suggested that he was about to dispute her protests and if she was honest with herself she couldn’t blame him, not after her getting so drunk she must have passed out the previous night and then there was her behaviour in the lift when he’d brought her home, but the truth was she wasn’t slutty or easy, never had been. She liked a drink, although the previous night had been in the extreme, and she liked to dance and have fun.

“Yes,” she insisted, more desperate than ever for him not to entirely mistrust what she was saying, even if he didn’t completely believe her words.

“So I couldn't have had my hands in your pants in that lift?” He waited for an answer now.

“Maybe,” she replied fairly honestly, there was no point in her being anything but as they both knew he could have. “But I am not a slut and I do not just randomly shag strange men.” She felt annoyed with him, him and his incorrect judgments about her, judgments he had no real right to hold.

“I see, so what? I'm different, is that it?” he asked sceptically.

She now felt stupid and embarrassed again, but more than that she was furious, with herself and him now.

“I don't know, maybe or maybe I am just reverting to type; crazy, controlling, sadistic, egocentric screw ups. Maybe that's it, but don't worry because after next Saturday we won’t ever have to see each other again and how I dress or how much I drink will be of no concern to you. Neither will who I do have s*x with, or where or how frequently.” She headed towards the door to the front of the apartment block and out onto the road.

Steph didn't know or care where she was or how ridiculous she looked in his clothes, an oversized t-shirt and rolled up, baggy track bottoms and high heels, but she strutted between the new apartment development and headed in the direction she believed the main road would be. She turned down a small alleyway and found a busy route where she hailed a cab and went home feeling absolutely ridiculous. She had been stupid the night before by being so out of it that anything could have happened to her and then this morning in the lift, well that was horniness rather than stupidity. She definitely needed to get laid and fast before she ended up shagging someone like Jon whatever his name was in a lift or anywhere else.

Steph had enjoyed several days of doing very little and was looking forward to a spa day with Lindsay on Friday and was relieved to have avoided all contact with Jon, although she thought he may have contacted Charlie as he had called her a couple of times with very vague excuses relating to work which was odd as she usually had very little professional contact with Charlie.

She had told Lindsay that Jon had got her home safely and as her friend raved about how great he was she had made all the right noises, while her head disagreed, but her heart? More her libido really, that was screaming at her that he would be a fantastic lay if nothing else.

Lindsay was fussing around her as Steph threw on her strappy wedges with her ethnic print maxi dress, ready for their spa day. Steph was glad that it would just be the two of them and maybe she could use the time to get the low down on Jon. She had decided that at Lindsay's wedding she would be the perfect lady and make him rethink his original opinion of her, whether he wanted to or not.

It was as they were lying face down on parallel massage tables that Lindsay asked,

“What happened with you and Jon the other night? He called Charlie on Sunday and was most confused by you.”

Steph was glad that her face could not be seen as it was contorted with embarrassment and anger now. How dare he. He was confused, well what the hell did that make her?

“I was drunk and couldn't tell him my address so he took me back to his, but nothing happened and the following morning he was a complete d**k and made me feel like s**t. So I told him where to get off and I went home, but that was after he had told me what a slutty tramp I was several times at the club.” Steph thought that more or less summed it up.

“Oh dear,” said Lindsay.

“Oh dear! Is that it? He is unhinged Linds, a complete bloody nutter.”

“That seems a little harsh,” said Lindsay. “Jon is complicated, but lovely.”

“Lovely? That word didn't enter my head. Does he have a girlfriend?”

“No,” replied Lindsay.

“Yeah, well having been on the receiving end of him in all his glory I can see why. And presumably no wife,” said Steph thinking aloud.

Lindsay hesitated which was enough for Steph to continue. “Wife? He has a wife?” shouted Steph as she sprang up off the bed startling both masseurs and Lindsay.

“He tells me I'm a tramp and he is the one screwing with my head if nothing else when he has the little wifey stashed away at home. I bet they have a country house where her and the kids wait for Mr Perfect to come home leaving whatever or whoever back in London, hence the bachelor pad or is it just a shag pad.” Steph fumed now. The hypocrisy of the man when all the time he was the one prepared to cheat.

“Steph let me speak, please,” pleaded Lindsay.

Steph lay back down, stiffer than she had been before the massage had started. “No. Look it doesn’t matter. He’s a dickhead, a married dickhead who doesn’t like me and I don’t like him…that’s fine so it doesn’t matter if he’s married or not because he is and will never be anything to me. Let's talk about something else now because I can't relax or be calm if I think about that man.”

Lindsay risked a glance at her masseur and with a roll of her eyes decided talking about Jon was probably not the best idea right now, however, she knew her friend well enough to know that Steph did like him, despite his behaviour and her own protests.

As Lindsay and Steph were eating lunch the manager of the spa came over and asked,

“Miss Walters and Miss Pryor?”

They both nodded as he summoned a staff member over.

Lindsay looked at a confused Steph as she whispered, “I bet we are being thrown out because of your behaviour about Jon.” She frowned.

The staff member appeared with a bottle of champagne, two glasses and a card each.

Lindsay opened hers and smiled. Steph assumed it was from Charlie, but as she opened her own she frowned feeling more confused than ever.

Stephanie,

Maybe I do have the wrong idea about you.

Enjoy the champagne.

Jon

She stared at the card and shook her head. Was she really just horny? Is that why he confused her like no man ever had? None of that matter though. Whatever the reason for her attraction to him and her confusion by him she couldn’t and wouldn’t go there. He was married. He didn't have a girlfriend or even a fiancée, he had a wife, till death, sickness and in health, blah-blah and suddenly her confusion multiplied tenfold because even if she knew she shouldn’t be thinking about him she couldn’t get him out of her head.