Cross the Line - 17

Chapter 17

The food in the restaurant was exquisite, fresh fish, al dente pasta and delicious creamy desserts. Naomi was full to bursting when she saw the liqueur coffees and flaming Sambuccas crossing the restaurant on a large tray.

Naomi groaned, “Are you trying to kill me Simon?”

Simon only grinned, “Death by coffee? Sounds like one of your nightmares again.”

                “Coffee, following tiramisu, and cannelloni and calamari...and how much wine? Death by overindulgence!” she grinned back at him.

Conor reached for his coffee and smiled, “what a way to go though, hey?”

They stayed at the table for a long while after finishing, the men drinking whisky, the women chatting and finishing the wine. It had been a wonderful evening, good company and great food. Naomi didn’t want it to end, and when Conor smiled lazily across the table at her, she smiled back.

Conor took the smile at face value; he was so pleased to see Naomi relaxed and happy. Other than on a few occasions in Ireland, he’d rarely seen her relaxed, calm and dare he think happy? The mutual respect between her and Simon was so obvious, and to think that he’d thought there may have been something illicit between them, he blushed at the memory of his words and actions, and then noticed Naomi’s smile at the flush taking over his face. She raised a questioning eyebrow and he shook his head.

When he looked up both Simon and Stephanie were observing the silent exchanges with humour, “oh to be newly in love!” Simon exclaimed, and his wife smiled.  

Naomi made to protest, her instincts to shout out at the incorrectness and gross prematurity of the statement, but Conor’s hand reached out to cover hers, and he offered a sympathetic look.

                “I wouldn’t say it’s new love, but we’re having fun, aren’t we Naomi?” She nodded an enthusiastic answer, relieved that he diffused the situation. “So are we moving on somewhere? The night is still young...”

Simon groaned, “this much sitting isn’t great, I think I need to get home and put my feet up...You two go on though, enjoy yourselves!”

Outside the restaurant, they parted, Simon struggling into a taxi, once they’d left Conor turned to Naomi, “I’ve got a great bottle of port sat on the sideboard at Simon’s flat. Do you fancy a drop?”

She nodded, they’d not spent time at Simon’s flat up until now, but she was tired, pleasantly satiated, and with alcohol subduing her normal resistance, she wanted to curl up with him somewhere warm and comfy. The taxi ride was short, and within minutes, they were in the modern bachelor kitchen sipping port.

Leading her in to the lounge, he swept his head down to capture her lips with his, “I’ve wanted to do that all night!” He finally growled against her throat, his day old stubble scuffing over her skin in the most erotic way. In response,  Naomi threw her head back, giving him access to her neck, the pleasure of his lips, the relaxation of the alcohol all combining to help her lose her inhibitions, and to open up to her desire for this man.

Before they’d reached the bedroom she’d stripped him down to his boxer shorts, deft and enthusiastic fingers dividing him from his clothes. He on the other hand was extremely patient, and in the bedroom, he sat on the bed, propped up on pillows.

                “Take you clothes off!” he growled, watching her earnestly.

Once again the urge to deny, to run away was counteracted by her extreme relaxation and comfort with him.

                “You want a show?” She asked from between hooded eyelashes, and her coy, girly response drove a lancing pain through his gut and when he thought he couldn’t physically desire her anymore, he just grew harder.

Unable to vocalise words, a lump occupying his very dry throat, he nodded an answer.

Naomi never imagined she’d stand there and slowly, provocatively remove her clothes as she did that night, a tasteful (she hoped) strip tease until Conor could take no more and reached out to remove her underwear in haste, but she did, and as she followed him on to the bed, and against his rock hard body, she felt a pang deep in her chest and knew she was getting in far too deep. But at that moment, she was unable to fight it, fight him, and she fell towards him with the same eagerness as he had for her.

 Back into the routine of work and play, Naomi succumbed and allowed Conor further into her life. He met and decidedly won over her neighbour Sarah and Emma, two of her closest friends, in fact, Conor and Tom, Emma’s boyfriend and seemed to really hit it off, talking about going to a cricket match together.

As September started to bring the darker and cooler evenings, so Simon planned his return to work. He’d injured himself in early July and had hoped to be back sooner, but poor healing and the challenge that getting in and out of town was, meant he was later returning than he had intended.

The first day Naomi had gone to town, fresh flowers filled the office, she’d called at the local bakery and bought fresh croissants and Danish pastries, and even brewed his favourite blend of Colombian coffee.

                “Are we expecting royalty?” Conor asked entering the small kitchen behind her, “because it’s starting to resemble a posh coffee shop here!” Unnecessarily he brushed against her, his body touching her from shoulder to hip, “that is until I get close enough to smell...” he paused to sniff deeply. “Lavender, and...Mmm, my favourite, a hint of...Do I smell marigold?”

She laughed, “it’s designer fifty pound a bottle perfume Mr O’Neill, and you’d do well to take note of the name!”

Stooping he bit the soft flesh at the base of her neck for a brief second, he didn’t like them to cross the work boundary, then murmured, “I’d never forget this smell Ms Young, I can assure you of that!”

The gush of cold air that replaced the hot pressure of his body was like an icy shower, calming her straying libido, in all the weeks they’d worked together she’d not betrayed her feelings for him within work hours, but with Simon about to walk through the door, here they were almost kissing in the closet! So stereotypical!

As she reappeared into the office, Naomi heard a gush from the door and turned to see Gloria rushing over to Simon. He hadn’t been to the office much, not able to bear to be there and not work, so this was the first time that the receptionist had seen the boss since he’d left for his late June wedding.

She was second, hugging the tall man tightly before following him into the office and sitting opposite him, ready to bring him up to date with all the outstanding cases.

                “Why are you so efficient?” A voice caused them both to look up to see Conor lounging in the doorway.

                “If she wasn’t I’d not have a business left!” Simon joked. “And seriously, I know I’ve thanked you both repeatedly for your work, for keeping this going, but I REALLY do want to tell you how grateful I am...” he turned to the open door and called out to the corridor, “You too Gloria!”

Gloria giggled like a teenager and all three laughed at her.

                “Do you want this breakdown of cases now?” Naomi asked, “Or do you and Conor need to discuss things?”

Simon nodded, “I think Conor and I need to hash a few things out, but I’ll do this with you before lunch hopefully?”

The symbiosis of the two of them and Gloria was disrupted beyond compare, but the atmosphere was light hearted, and for now at least, the work load was relaxed. There were several business lunches and late night meetings, all designed to see Simon integrate fully.

This meant that Naomi saw a lot less of Conor than she had done, and whilst she didn’t miss his incessant whistling in the shower, empty coffee cups deposited all around the apartment, or spare clothes that he seemed to bundle into random cupboards, she missed his cuddles, his kisses and his companionship in her life, and that was something she never thought she’d admit to.

                “Now Simon’s up and about, I’m moving from his, think I’m going to get a flat somewhere,” he announced on one of the rare evenings they were sharing at the moment, “and I want us to look for something together. It makes sense doesn’t it?”

Suddenly this was what Naomi had been dreading, the huge big C. Commitment, placing her heart into his hands and allowing him to influence her. Suddenly she felt sick, she couldn’t do this. 

                “I don’t...”

Conor halted her with a finger over her lips, “think about this love, I have hated the last few weeks when I’ve not been here with you. I want to come home to you, wake up with you. I want it all Naomi. I never thought I’d be here thinking let alone saying this, but I am. I’m good, thanks to you. So please before you snap a response, try to cocoon yourself away from me, think about what you want...in your heart.”

This man could read every nuance of her body, every niggle and tweak. He knew about her misgivings, probably anticipated them before she had. “I can’t do that Con. I really can’t!”

He shook his head, lifting her eyes, forcing her to meet his, “you can say no for dozens of reasons, but whatever you say it has to be real.”

Naomi could feel tears well behind her eyes, how did you share such intimate and personal things with anyone? How could she let him into that last part of her being?

Shaking her head she stood, walked to the window and looked out, anything to take her mind away from her true thoughts.

                “Talk to me Naomi, you owe me explanations, your trust for God’s sake. If you can’t tell me why living together is the most repulsive thing to you in the world, then there’s no future for us.” There was a desperation in his voice that seemed to try and penetrate her hard armour, but it was purely an unsuccessful attempt.

“No! Don’t say that, please...” her face was sad as she turned to him.

“How can there be? You lock yourself away from me. I’ve given you everything! My time, my trust, my past, my future, hell I’ve told you dozens of times how much I love you. I’ve settled here in this town, all for you Naomi Young. Before you get upset and quote all the bad things I’ve ever done, just ask yourself one question, what have you given me? You just think about it!”

If she’d been wearing shoes, she could have made quicker progress to follow and catch him, but he’d gone, the red tail lights leaving the car park was the only sign that he’d been there.

Naomi couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, could barely move from room to room. She had to speak to him, talk to him, and decide whether she could do as he asked. She owed him an explanation, even if she couldn’t be with him; at least he deserved to know why.

After a restless night she dressed and unable to even contemplate breakfast, made for her small and rather unreliable car...another thing that Conor was keen to change. Or rather WAS she thought. From now on she had to start thinking like that.

Pulling into the car park for the block of apartments housing Simon’s, she spotted Conor’s car still there and sighed with relief. She barely remembered the ride in the elevator up to the third floor, but as she knocked on the door, nausea swept through her, her heart raced, beads of sweat trickled down her spine, between her breasts. Taking a deep breath she waited for the door to open.

It swung open and she took in the sight of Conor, dark rings circled his eyes, black stubble darkened his jaw, his hair was dishevelled, glancing up his eyes widened slightly.

                “I suppose it’s a bonus that you look how I feel!” he muttered. Stepping back he offered her into the apartment.

She paced the lounge nervously, wringing her hands as she waited for him to join her, but he seemed to have detoured via the bedroom and when he finally emerged he’d dampened his hair and his face looked a little brighter.

                “I owe you an explanation...” she offered.

He shook his head, “there’s no excuse you can give that will convince me that we’re better apart. So make it good.”

Naomi was stunned by the harshness of his voice, but she carried on, “it’s not you, it’s me...”

Conor guffawed loudly almost falling off the sofa with laughter, “you really take the biscuit!” He shouted. “Where the hell did that come from? After I ask you to move in with me, be part of my life, you come out with the oldest cliché in the book. I love you Naomi Young, and we will move in together! It makes sense!”

She shook her head, “I can’t do it Conor, I can’t give you any more. I just can’t.”

Reaching for her he pulled her close, dragging her mouth to his, forcibly kissing her, anger, pain all spurring him on, but she kissed him back, and suddenly he’d lost all the aggression. Finally he pulled apart, dragged his tongue from hers. But he stayed with his forehead resting on hers, their eyes, nose, lips millimetres apart.

                “I’ve been married, had lots of lovers, but I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you, and I can’t let you go, can’t let you walk away.”

Tears started to roll down her face, silent tears that he cleared with his thumbs, swiping them away as quickly as they fell.

                “Just let me in love, please.”

In between sobs and the shaking of her head, she managed to whisper, “Everyone I love leaves, I can’t have you and lose you Conor. I can’t cope with being abandoned again.”

He lifted his head and looked down at her, darling, sensitive and terrified Naomi as she told him about losing her mother, the changes in her father, how difficult her life became. And then Maisy. Losing her, the only one person she had left was like the final straw.

                “It took so long to get over her Conor, and I’ve got used to being alone. In Ireland I loved feeling part of a family, it was so special to me, but I don’t think I can cope with loving you then losing you. It’s too much!”

Conor kept hold of her keeping her attention on him, “I can’t promise we’ll be together forever, neither of us knows what tomorrow will bring. But I know that I’ve never wanted to be with anyone as much as I want you. And even if you continue to deny that you love me, I’ll humour you, but I KNOW you love me, and I know that you want me equally as much!”

She stuttered as she took in his words.

Laughing he held her close, “move in, with me, somewhere? Please? I’ll give you a hundred reasons to love me, and a hundred reasons why it’s the right decision.”

The last few hours away from him were harder than she’d ever dreamt, and so against all her advice, her own thoughts and principles, she nodded, “ok. I will.”

Scooping her up in his arms, she’d have sworn he’d have won the lottery, as he swung her around, but for them both it was a big step towards the new start and hopeful future they deserved.