Free The Gentleman Has Left the Building by Lucy V. Morgan Page B

the
whole world whooshed forwards. Ugh. “I’m on hangover time.”
    “Oh, I see. A
few vodkas and you’re Doctor fucking Who.” He flexed his hands at
me. “I can see it now: gracefully bounding towards your foxeh
laydeh with your stripy scarf billowing behind you in the
breeze--”
    “Sod off, will
you? It’s half seven! What are we doing here?” I glanced around at
the deserted park. Hills rolled away from us in fading shades of
green, and tall old trees swelled against the skyline.
    “I like it,” he
huffed. “It’s all dewy and scenic.”
    “Are you sure
you’re not gay?”
    “Whether I like
cock or not is none of your business. Now run ahead of me so I
can--” He gave my arse a sharp once over, “--make sure you keep
up.”
    I shook a
feeble fist in the air. “If I wasn’t so afraid of you, I’d still be
in bed,” I said weakly.
    “We both know
you’re not here for me, you perv. Quick! On your left, near the
willow tree.”
    And there she
was. There she was.
    We’d named her
Nicole. I don’t know whether you remember those sad nineties
Renault adverts-- Nicole? Papa! --but like her, she was
youthful and groomed and shiny, with her hair all streaked with
honey and slender little shoulders that lead down to…nnnghh. I
could see the sun refracting off her lip gloss from ten feet away.
I bet she was French, like in the advert. I thought about her
saying my name in that accent all the time… Rhys …
    “Legs like a
school girl.” Aidan sighed. “The slutty schoolgirl. The one who
hikes her skirt right up to flash her history teacher, and gives
blow jobs in the alley behind the corner shop.”
    I elbowed him.
“What, like your mother?”
    “Technically,
we don’t know that she’s not a schoolgirl,” he said dryly.
    “Well…I’ll find
out.”
    I wished he’d
shut up and just let me gawp at her. We’d got a nice spot under
some trees where she probably couldn’t see us and her tits were
doing that lovely judder with every skippy step. Bounce and quiver.
Bounce and quiver. Are her nipples were chafing against that tight
vest? Wonder what shape they are…
    “Nicole!" Aidan
barked in a comically low voice. "Why you dress like a whore for
running? Why you not go ze gym like respectable femme?” His dirty
old Frenchman accent wobbled into the squeak of a young girl. “But
Papa, ze boys, they stare at me in ze gym! Ze park, it is full of
the beauty of nature, and I exercise in peace. One time, Rosemary
say a weird advertising exec, he stalk me. But she had mouthful of
brie, so maybe I mishear her.”
    “Dude. Shut
up.”
    “I’ve had
enough. Come on.”
    Aidan tugged me
by the arm and I couldn’t not run with him--if I didn’t, I’d fall
flat on my face.
    “What are you
doing?” I hissed.
    “Exercising…in
the beauty of nature…”
    He dragged me
towards Nicole. We were gaining on her. Fucking hell!
    “No, no, no!” I
twisted my elbow but he wouldn’t loosen his grip. “You are not
going to make her associate me with you --”
    That was when
she stopped. She must’ve got cramp in one of her quadriceps because
she cocked one ankle a few paces forward and then slowly bent at
the knee. Two firm, peachy globes spread before us as she sank to
touch her foot. Every fantasy I’d entertained about lapping at her
there flashed through my head, and blood licked the base of my cock
with a sticky tongue. Please don’t let her--
    “Sorry.” Aidan
smiled.
    --turn
around . Fuck.
    “I didn’t mean
to get in your way,” she said shyly.
    She wasn’t
French. She was disgustingly posh, actually…still. It suited her.
Suited that mouth.
    “Of course you
weren’t.” He nodded towards the woods in front. “Are you running
the Chestnut Trail?”
    “I was going
to.” She panted lightly and a little sheen of sweat dusted her
temples. “Are you?”
    “Yep.” The word
lunged from my mouth before I even knew it was there and just like
that, I’d spoken to her. Made my first