Free Spirit by Ashe Barker Page B

cheek. I lay my face on his chest and can feel his heart thumping inside, the rate fast but slowing as he relaxes. For several moments neither of us speaks.
    “Did you like being on top?”
    “Mmm, fabulous. Did I do okay?”
    “Passable I suppose.” He kisses the top of my head and pats my bum, the gestures intended to show he’s teasing me.
    I snuggle against him, loving the relaxed post-sex banter which seems to flow so naturally between us. “You can lie back and think of the Empire then in future, and I’ll do the hard work.”
    “Is this another dig at my age?”
    “Not at all. I just discovered a talent I didn’t know I had and I want to practice it.”
    “So, I’m to be your guinea pig then?”
    “Yes, if you like.”
    “I suppose I could live with that. For the sake of furthering your education. Practice makes perfect, and all that.”
    “I’m guessing you’ve had a lot of practice?” Oh Christ, where did that come from? I never meant to say that.
    “Beth?”
    “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” I bury my face against his chest, conscious that he hasn’t even slid his cock from my pussy yet and already I’m allowing my jealousy to surface. What’s wrong with me? When will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?
    Matt lifts me from him, but doesn’t seem rattled by my comment. Instead he settles me beside him while he disposes of the condom. I huddle there, unable to raise my head and look at him, my confident, happy mood of just moments earlier in tatters.
    “Beth, are you crying?”
    I nod, but make no attempt to stem the tears coursing down my cheeks.
    “Why?”
    “Because I said something stupid. I always do that. Mess things up by being an idiot.”
    “We’re not messed up. And you’re right, I have had a lot of practice. Which is good, surely, since you haven’t. Yet.”
    “I didn’t mean to have a go at you.”
    “I know. Forget it.”
    “You’re not angry?”
    “No. And Beth, if ever I am angry with you, you won’t need to ask. I don’t play games, I’ll tell you it like it is.”
    I ponder that for a few moments as I struggle to regain control of my features. When my gulping sobs have subsided a little I venture a peep up at him.
    “Are you really not mad at me?”
    “Do I look to be?”
    I shake my head.
    Matt smiles, his expression warm, gentle, and above all affectionate. He beckons me forward. “Come here, Beth. You look like you need a cuddle, and I’m fucking sure I do.”
    I require no further encouragement, and scramble into his lap. His arms wrap around me, securing me tight against him, and I am content in a way I can hardly recall ever feeling before. It’s not just on the surface, but bone-deep. Solid, reliable, safe.

Chapter Six
     
     
    The sharp trill of Matt’s phone interrupts our late breakfast the morning of New Year’s Eve. He mutters something unintelligible as he leans out of bed and gropes around on the carpet to find it. Mission accomplished he leans back against the headboard as he takes the call.
    “Hi Mick, how’s things?” Matt winks at me as I stuff another mouthful of soft, fluffy croissant between my lips, then furrows his brow as another fall of crumbs flutters onto the duvet. No doubt he’ll make me change the bedding later but I don’t mind that. It’s worth it. The messy business is so much fun. And I do not mean just croissants.
    “Yeah, I’m here all day. Bring it round when you like.”
    I glance up, a little surprised. Are we to have a visitor then? This Mick?
    Matt smiles as he continues his conversation. “Not a problem, I knew you were good for it. I just hope you’re taking good care of my baby.”
    I finish my breakfast, somewhat puzzled.
    Matt chuckles into the phone. “Yeah, she was always temperamental. You need to cultivate the touch, and she’ll purr for you.” A pause, then, “Yeah, right. Okay, see you later. Bye.”
    He ends the call, and the phone beeps again, the sound shrill and insistent.
    “Shit,