Abby moved her mouth away, directing his semen onto her breasts, her eyes on him, his on where he was marking because he had no doubt, however lust drunk he was himself right now, that this was what it was.
His territory.
He pulled her up to him, not caring that she was messy, and guided her back to his lap. Her lips were swollen with kisses and what she’d just done for him, so he was gentle when he ran a finger over them, gentler still when he leaned into her for a kiss.
“We should shower.” He cursed his words. There were better ones than that but he just couldn’t find them.
“We should.” She stepped away from him, trying to cover herself, fumbling for her T-shirt.
“Abby. Stop.” He was up on his feet before she picked any clothing up. Alex wrapped his arms around her, kissed the top of her head. “I got you messy. Let me get you clean.”
‘But we shouldn’t – I shouldn’t…”
“But we did. And it’s all good. Don’t panic. This is just between us and any birds that happened to hear you scream my name.”
“I didn’t scream your name.”
And like that she was back, the bartender who could deal with any customer no matter how persistently dickish they were.
“You did. It was like you were praying.” They walked to the stairs, Alex’s hand on the curve of her bottom, his finger broaching near to her centre.
“I just needed someone to give me an orgasm. You were handy.”
“I think I was very handy judging how loudly you yelled my name.”
She laughed, walking into the bathroom before him. “Alex, what are we doing?” The teasing was gone. She looked serious.
“We’re taking a shower together and then we’re going to go through the information you’ve got. After lunch we’re going climbing. While we’re doing that, we’re not thinking about anything else. Then we’ll grab some dinner and come home. Then we’ll discuss sleeping arrangements. However you want them.”
“What about what you want?”
“We’ll talk about that then too.” He flicked the shower on. “One thing at a time. And right now, that’s another orgasm.”
Five
Abby watched Alex’s face as he finished reading the latest email she’d had from Brian Hargreaves. He’d combed through everything, asking questions she’d never had thought of. There had been no emotion in his voice, only to give her words that would comfort her when she got upset, which was happening more than she would’ve thought possible.
She was tired. Scared. Alone. Lost. There were probably a thousand words that could describe the different feelings she was having right now and all of them told her that getting involved on whatever level with Alex Maynard was stupid.
What happened in his kitchen and part two in the shower needed to end there.
“What did your sister tell you about Kenny?”
Abby thought for a moment. “He was fun. Protective. Took her out to clubs where there were footballers and some singers she recognised. She sounded like she was having the time of her life when she told me about him.”
“Did things change?”
Abby nodded. “I didn’t speak to her for about six weeks – we were in Brazil, travelling at that point, and then we headed to the Andes to climb Aconcagua. I spoke to her when we got back to New York and she sounded down. I got the feeling that Kenny was being controlling – she mentioned that he chose what she could wear and she ended the call because he came in. I flew home but it was a week before she could see me.”
“How was she then?”
“Quiet and not like her. But then I heard her speak of him – only briefly – and he sounded charming. From what she described he was well dressed, treated her like she was gold and she was happy to see him. I flew out to Nepal a few days later. We were climbing seven summits in seventeen weeks and Everest was the last.” She remembered feeling the highs when they reached the summit of each peak. It was a high, both literal and figuratively, that she never wanted to come down from. But she had.
“I started to try to contact him. It was the university that had reported her missing, not Kenny. I found his address but the person living there – an older woman – told me he’d gone. There were a couple of pubs nearby, rough ones that I wouldn’t have normally dared to go in to. I got talking to a couple of older blokes and figured out from them that Kenny was in a gang.” She sat up, feeling some of the weight she’d carried leaving her shoulders. This was the first time she’d shared her story.
“You researched the gang?” His voice was quiet, soothing. Abby was torn at this moment between becoming lost in the too serrated memories of what had happened with the worries and fears, and Alex’s manner.
“I was never like this before.” Her words were rushed, too loud. “Nervous. Worried. I climbed the highest mountains in the world. I had sponsorships, deals with companies and my blog won awards. I was outgoing and carefree…”
“I know.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “You still are that person; you’re undergoing a trauma at the moment that means you have heightened responses due to the various chemical reactions happening in your body that it doesn’t know how to cope with. Breathe.”
“How do I know she’s not dead, or alive and being held captive? How do I know they won’t do that to me?”
Her fear was overwhelming.
“Because I won’t let them do that to you. Who did you tell about it when it happened? When Tilly went missing?”
“No one. My boyfriend carried on with the climb. I stopped to start looking for her. Then told everyone I had an injury that was going to keep me out of things for a bit. A few people checked in, but I gave them a standard answer and drifted away. I still have my real phone and I’ll text old friends, but the longer you leave it, the less frequent their messages get.” She understood it. Getting close to people wasn’t something she was great at anyway, even before all this had happened.
“Boyfriend?” It was the only word Alex said.
Somehow Abby found it in herself to laugh. “Not anymore. He got married last year.”
“Should I be sorry?”
She shook her head. “We weren’t serious. It was more convenience.”
Alex looked at the pile of papers. He’d managed to check the email she’d set up through a server which meant the log in couldn’t be traced – or was as secure as anything could be.
“Matilda was involved with a member of what was known as the Saint Street Gang. They’re not really known as that now. In the noughties the leaders went into more legitimate business – nightclubs, security, bookmakers and beyond. One of them even made a huge donation to the museum, the new one that was opened. At the same time, their rivals started to go legit. Tony Jones’ dad bought into a local football club and that set the whole rivalry off again. Plus there was a bit of a gap in the drugs market and other gangs tried to cash in on that, meaning a turf war started up. ” Alex had one of the emails from the PI between his finger and thumb, rubbing it as if it wasn’t real.
“But things have gotten worse in terms of violence?”