I wriggled beneath him, shoving my knickers aside and carefully guiding his cock closer. His resistance cracked and his hips jutted forward, closing the remaining distance between us as his hard, bare length pushed inside me. I moaned and closed my eyes, the feel of him with nothing between us a little more than I could handle. I was twenty-seven years old and this was the very first time I’d had unprotected sex with another person. I never imagined how amazing it could be, especially when you added my continually growing feelings to the equation.

“Alexis, darling,” he murmured. “You feel…incredible.”

I stroked a hand down his back and gazed up at him.

Barely a few minutes passed, but they felt as though they lasted an eternity. King made love to me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. This certainly wasn’t what either one of us had intended by having sex in a limo. I certainly hadn’t thought it’d be so…emotional. I wanted to say something, anything, to warn him that I was beginning to grow attached, but I couldn’t find the words. And then he was coming, his mouth capturing mine and his sounds reverberating through me.

And when it was over, we lay there in each other’s arms, a startling awareness filling the small space and so many words being left unsaid.

***

In spite of our hunger for one another, we were exhausted. Arriving back at the hotel, we lay in my bed and just kissed for a while, King making me come with his hand before we both passed out cold.

The following morning we had an early flight back to London. A sense of dread filled my gut as I wondered if things would remain the same when we got home. It was unwarranted, because King was being warm and affectionate with me. He wasn’t giving me any cause for concern, and yet I still felt it. I mean, we could hardly be a couple at work. Even if it wasn’t against the rules, I didn’t want people thinking I was some low-class hussy who slept with her boss.

Even though, let’s face it, that’s what I was, though I refused to accept the low-class bit. Damn me and my dumb blonde hussy of a vagina. She just couldn’t keep her hands to herself.

Everything was a mad rush as we packed our things and made our way to the airport. I barely had a chance to catch my breath until we were seated on the flight. We’d just landed at Heathrow and were making our way to the baggage carousel when King’s phone began ringing. I didn’t pay much attention to the conversation until I heard the concerned tone in his voice.

“Mum? No, no, shit, stay where you are. I’ll be there within the hour.”

I placed a hand on King’s elbow. “Is everything all right?”

He turned to me and looked down, his agitation clear as day. “No,” he answered, almost absently. “No, it isn’t. We have to go.”

I nodded and grabbed our bags as we hurried to catch a taxi. King barely uttered a word, and I was half convinced he’d forgotten I was even there. It sounded like something had happened with his mum again. Perhaps she had to be taken back into the hospital, though I still didn’t know what had happened the last time. King clutched his phone in his hand, his knuckles turning white. I wanted to do something to calm him, but I was at a loss. He was wound so tight I feared he might snap if I tried to touch him right then.

It took us longer than an hour to reach the house (London traffic), and King almost got into a fight with the taxi driver along the way. He was upset and stressed, and I knew his anger was only due to whatever had happened with his mum. I tipped the driver well when we got there, apologising for King’s behaviour as my boss practically leapt from the car and hurried to the front door. He fumbled in his pocket before pulling out a set of keys, and then a second later he’d disappeared inside.

I brought our small suitcases into the entryway as King called out, “Mum, I’m here! Mum!”

“Oliver,” came the sound of a weak, scratchy voice.

I followed King’s calls until I found him in a small library room. His mum sat on the floor, her knees huddled to her chest and tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked like she’d just been through something horribly traumatic and wore only a silk robe, her long hair all tangled. Some of her chest was exposed, but King didn’t even bat an eyelid; he simply pulled the robe tighter to cover her modesty. There was nothing weird or awkward about it. He did it with love and care, and it was in that moment, finally seeing them both together for the first time, that I realised this woman meant the world to him.

I got the feeling King had been caring for his mother for a really long time.

His hands went to her cheeks, wiping away the tears. “What happened?”

“He was here. He got inside. I don’t know how, but he threatened me, Oliver. He said you were messing him around, and he wouldn’t stand for it. He…he hit me.”

King’s entire body went still. “Where?”

Elaine slowly pulled up the sleeve of her robe to reveal an awful welt.

“He’s the fucking devil,” King fumed, and I’d never seen him so angry. “I’m going to kill him.”

“No,” Elaine cried. “That’s what he wants. He wants to make you like him. Don’t ever become like him.”

“Mother, we can’t go on like this. It’s been…Christ, it’s been too many years.”

“Just call him,” Elaine urged King frantically. “Explain everything. I’m sure it’s all just a big misunderstanding.”

King, kneeling in front of his mum, pulled back and slammed his hand down into the floor. “Don’t you see, he’ll never leave us alone. Not until one of us is dead or in prison.”