Chapter 23: Taming Mr. Walker: Chapter 23

Charlie

Ten miles down the road there’s an elephant in the car called Tristan, now flashing on Danny’s car display screen.

We are making our way to a lido near Richmond where Danny swims.

Given that it’s fifteen degrees outside and I don’t have his Scottish weatherproof skin, I’m a little apprehensive. Still, I said yes to save face rather than shatter the illusion of being young, adventurous, and carefree.

“Charlie.” He looks over at me from the driver’s seat. “I need to answer this.”

“I’ll be quiet.” I roll my eyes. “Your dirty secret is safe.”

“Tristan,” he answers as he puts him on the loudspeaker.

“Mate,” Tristan says through the speaker. “Did you get the custody form? You need to sign it as a reference.”

“I’ll do it this evening. I’m out now.”

“Sure. Then hopefully she can’t screw me over any longer.”

I wince as I hear a darker, angrier Tristan than I’m used to. Danny gives me a sheepish sidewards glance.

“She can’t leave the country with my son, Danny.”

I stare aghast at Danny, but he ignores me. Gemina is trying to leave England? Why didn’t Tristan tell me? He told Danny but not me, his own sister?

“We’ll do it, Tristan,” Danny says softly, bringing the Aston Martin to a stop. “She won’t take Daniel.” His voice is confident, but he fails to hide the concern on his face.

“Listen,” Tristan starts. “Go easy on Mara, OK? She’s working on a critical case, and I can’t have her distracted. Don’t turn her goo-eyed like all the others.”

Mara. Perfect bloody Mara. I had forgotten about her. Her name does weird things to my stomach.

Danny visibly flinches beside me.

All the other goo-eyed morons like me. I squirm in my seat. How many does he have?

You knew this, a small voice chastises me. Don’t get emotionally attached.

“Listen, I gotta go,” Danny says hurriedly. “I’m running some errands.”

Tristan’s laugh booms from the speaker. “Since when do you do your own errands?”

“Bye, Tristan.” Danny ends the call.

I plaster my big girl smile on. Mara might be the perfect match, but she’s not here now. I am. I will get into this pond and show Danny Walker what a fun-time girl I really am.

***

Swimming in a pond isn’t as romantic and zen as it sounds. For a start, I’ve been here for twenty minutes, and I haven’t managed to actually get into the water. I have gotten as far as my knees so far, and that took a lot of willpower and pain. Now I understand what Jack means when he explains to Rose about the water hitting you like a thousand knives.

Danny stripped off and jumped in as soon as he’d turned off the ignition like some kind of freak fish-boy and has been trying to coax me in ever since.

“Charlie, just jump in,” he shouts from the water. “You’re making it worse for yourself.”

“No,” I hiss at him.

There is sneering and snorts of laughter behind me. To top it all off, I’m being victimised by a gang of ten-year-old boys.

“What a wuss, lady!” the ginger one shouts at me.

I glare at him. “Go fuck yourself, dipshit!”

“Charlie.” Danny shakes his head, laughing. “He’s about ten. You can’t say that to him. Anyway, you are being a wuss.”

“Listen, Pamela Anderson,” I snap back. “I don’t need a few little pricks taunting me. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it my way.”

“No, you’re not,” Ginger sings at me, inching forward.

“What are you doing?’ I demand, flapping my arms at him. “Don’t come any closer.”

Smelling my fear, his confidence grows. He waves his pre-pubescent army over.

“Come on, lads, let’s get her!”

They advance on me like rodents on a dead bird. Pushing and shoving me.

“Get off, you little motherfuckers.” My screams are smothered by high-pitched giggles and cries of ‘get her.’

With a final shove, Ginger sends me flying into the lake, and I hit the water with force. A thousand knives immediately stab every pore of my skin from my toes to my ears. Jack from Titanic was spot on. I’m having a heart attack.

Strong arms pull me up, and as I hit the surface, my mouth lets out a scream so blood-curdling even the ducks do a mass exodus.

I thrash around wildly in the water, cursing, and I swear I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

The gang laugh from the riverbank.

“Assholes,” I bellow, sticking my middle finger up at them. “I’ll fucking murder each and every one of you.”

“Easy, Charlie! They’re just playing!” Danny wraps my legs around him so that he’s holding up my weight. “You’ll have a gang of angry mothers over here if you carry on like that.”

I turn to him, spitting out water. “Don’t you start,” I growl with such ferocity that he cowers.

***

It’s hard to stay mad with a man with a washboard stomach and a jawline that could cut glass. Especially since he is naked now, towelling himself dry in front of me, and even though he has been in freezing water, he’s still huge.

We are in the outdoor changing rooms after my near-death experience. I’ll admit I may have overreacted a tad, but I’m still freezing to the core.

“You are indecent in that string thing,” he murmurs as he towels me dry. “The triangle barely covers your best bits.”

“It’s two sizes too small, remember?” We made a detour via a clothes shop before hitting the lido, but it was limited in choices. Of all the things to bring to Danny Walker’s house on Saturday night, a bikini was not on my list.

“Good thing no other men were here to see you,” he growls. “I would have knocked out anyone who looked.”

“Except for that violent gang,” I mutter as I turn around to hang up my wet bikini bra. “My bones have turned to ice with the shock of the attack.”

“We can get you warm again.” He grabs me from behind and pins me against the wall.

“What the hell are you—”

Before I finish my sentence, he has pushed my bikini bottoms aside and slipped a finger deep into my sex.

“Seriously?” I gasp. “Here?”

My body betrays me and my legs part to give him more access.

The sound of him massaging my clit echoes around the cubicle and no doubt reaches the ears of anyone close by. My heart thuds. Will they know what’s happening?

When did I become such a voyeurist?

“If we don’t do it, I’m walking out of here with a raging erection.” He groans way too loudly. “This bikini has me all hot and bothered.”

“Keep your voice down,” I reply, half giggling, half reprimanding him. “There are people in the other cubicles.”

“Probably wishing they were doing this.” He grinds his erection up against me, and the pulsing heat in my core grows.

Tugging my bikini bottom out of the way, he enters me from behind, hard and deep.

“Danny.” I gasp at the sharpness.

He loses control and really gives it to me. His heat sears my cold skin, intensifying his thickness.

I clench tighter than ever and bite down on my lip, trying to stay quiet.

I don’t know if it’s because of the cold, the bikini, or the fact that anyone could hear us, but in less than a minute, I hear his laboured breathing behind me and know he’s so close, he’s not going to hold it.

“Damn, Charlie.” He lets out a shaky laugh. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to get it back out.”

“Your problem.” I breathe heavily, grinding into his rhythm. “You put it in. You get it out.”

***

We spent the last two hours drinking hot chocolate in the car with the heater on.

I’m not sure if it was triggered by the shock of the cold water or the sex afterwards, but I’ve entered a state of delirium where I have the giggles over anything and everything.

“This is how Danny the Destroyer, tech tycoon, spends a Sunday,” I muse, blowing on my hot chocolate. “When he’s not playing with his meat grinders, of course.”

“Meat-shredding claws,” he corrects, sliding his hands through my hair. “I’m not an abattoir.”

“You have no clue what those things do, boy.” I roll my eyes. “You made that shit up.”

“I know exactly how to grind my meat, thank you very much.” He grins. “I’ve had an enjoyable afternoon,” he says with a lazy sexy smile on his lips. “Swimming with you was … entertaining.”

A snort escapes me. “Dangerous, more like. I nearly died at the hands of those sharks.”

“Pretty dangerous.” He nods. “I almost lost my dick to a viper vagina. You used to love swimming. Remember when Tristan and I used to take you swimming when you were a kid?”

“Vaguely.” I screw up my face trying to remember. “I was about seven, right?”

“And I was twenty,” he chokes.

I arch an eyebrow in his direction. “The age difference doesn’t matter now. I’m a grown woman if you haven’t noticed.”

“You make it impossible for me to forget.”

My stomach rumbles loudly and reminds us of the fact that the day is creeping into late afternoon.

“I suppose I better … drive you home,” he murmurs quietly, looking at the car clock. “I have some work to look over this evening.”

“Sure.” I shrug, feigning indifference.

My night of fun is finally over.

A silence sweeps over us, and I can see his brain clogs whirling. He clears his throat. “Unless you want to come back to mine this evening so that I can show you my meat shredding claw in operation?”

I hide a smirk. “That sounds like something I need to see.”

Danny

There is an intimacy I’m feeling that shouldn’t be there and is giving me warning bells. Why did I invite her back tonight again? It was supposed to end this morning when I had fucked her out of my system.

Why am I playing boyfriend with her?

What the fuck am I doing?

I watch her as she stretches her long legs out on the sofa, her head resting against my chest.

She’s back in that oversized sweater of mine that she belongs in and sprawled out like she owns the damn place. Her thick hair is spread out all over my chest and bicep.

She’s wearing my boxers while she washes her underwear which is a massive turn on, knowing her little cunt is rubbing against my fabric.

She has no idea how devastatingly attractive she is. I often wonder if she would be a different person if she realised. She does it effortlessly, minimal make-up, messy hair, frayed jeans. This is what sets her apart, her tomboy nature, not giving a fuck.

That bikini, I’ve never seen anything so sexual and sensational despite the fact she was thrashing about the pond like a mad bitch.

We had sex again after the outdoor changing rooms. I feel fucking spent.

We’ve been watching a movie for two hours, and neither of us is paying attention. We’ve been laughing, cuddling, and finding any opportunity to touch each other. I’m rubbing her damn feet, for Christ’s sake.

She’s the only thing I can focus on when she’s in the room. This is why I need her to take voluntary redundancy before I plummet the company into negative equity. I’ve been shirking my responsibilities. It took all my willpower to force my eyes from her long enough to print and sign the form for Tristan. I am supposed to write my speech this evening for the annual security tech event in Canary Wharf. I guess I’m winging it again.

Something has changed in the space of twenty-four hours. This time yesterday, we were acting awkward and ignoring each other at dinner. Now? I’m staring at her like a love-sick teenager.

The film credits roll, and she sits up. “I need to watch that again.” She smirks. “Your amazing foot massage distracted me.”

“Who knew I was a man of many talents? Cook. Lifeguard. Now masseuse, all in one day.”

“Human dildo,” she adds with a half-grin, rubbing her foot along my crotch.

“That’s my favourite way to serve you.” I smile, running my fingers over her foot.

“A multidimensional man,” she says softly. She presses her lips together, looks at me then looks away.

“Spit it out, Charlie,” I say, waiting.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

I stare, puzzled wondering about the turn of topic. “Why on earth would you ask that? Where has this come from?”

“Come on, Danny.” She rolls her eyes. “Most people in Nexus went to Cambridge or Oxford or Harvard or some other genius university. I went to Warwick.”

“I’m not Cambridge/Oxford-educated. Neither is Tristan,” I say, raising a brow.

“But you are highly successful. I know you think I’m not up to the Nexus standard. Don’t bullshit me.”

“Where is this coming from?” I ask, slightly thrown. “The truth is I think you need more experience. But I also think you are a beautiful, intelligent, sensationally creative girl.”

“Girl?” She grimaces.

“Woman,” I correct.

She stares at me, deflated. “I‘m not a leggy blonde human rights lawyer. Why would you split up with her?”

“I wanted something casual; she didn’t.”

She clears her throat awkwardly, avoiding my gaze. “I get it; you don’t do the commitment thing.”

I expel a breath. I don’t like where this conversation is going.

“Hey.” I shake her ankle, forcing her to look at me. “We don’t know what this is … let’s just enjoy it, OK?”

“Sure.” She swallows. “I get it.”

“Danny,” she starts again. “Do you remember all those years ago?”

“I remember,” I cut in.

Hurt flashes across her face.

“Why did you push me away?”

“You were twenty, Charlie.” I sigh. “I was thirty-three. You were too young for me. You were blind drunk. Despite my reputation, I don’t take advantage of young drunk girls. No matter how breathtaking they are.”

“And now?” she whispers.

I reach over, scooping her up in my arms. “Now I’m well and truly fucked.”