Trying Not to Love You - Part Fifty

Chapter Fifty

Before they could go to the pub, Martha needed to check in at the restaurant. It was a quiet night there and Paul had assured her that he could cope without her. When she called in the place was running smoothly.

                “I’ll relieve you about ten? I’ll cash up then lock up. Thanks for this.”

He smiled at her, “no problems, are you ok?”

She looked at him, “about Scott?” When he shrugged and looked behind her, she turned to see Sonny at the doorway, lounging against the frame waiting for her. “Sonny?”

Paul smiled, “lots of change Martha, just worry how you’re coping with it all.”

In that moment she realised that he wasn’t judging her, he genuinely was looking out for her. Pulling him into an embrace she beamed at him, “I’m fine, I promise. But thanks.”

                “What was that about?” Sonny asked linking his fingers through hers.

Martha looked up at him, “jealous?”

He laughed, “of him? No.”

She chuckled, “he was just concerned about me. Really. Not like everyone else.”

                “He’s a nice bloke.”

She stopped and turned to look up at him, “you didn’t think that when we went to the cinema.” In fact after that event Sonny had first hinted at his feelings towards her.

Sonny sighed, “he’s a nice bloke, but he’d bore you to death.” He gave grin, “I’ll not bore you to death. I know you better than anyone else, and I promise you this will always be special.”

It was such a contrast of cockiness and genuine love that Martha felt bowled over, as she lifted her head to meet his lips, his hands rose to cup her face, cherish her, and she truly felt adored.

                “Come on, if we stay here a second longer there’s no way we’re going into that pub.”

At his protest Martha leaned back in his arms that were now wrapped around her and gave a languorous look, “have something else in mind?”

He groaned and rolled his eyes, “what are you doing to me?”

Giving a giggle she broke free of his embrace and led him into the pub.

It was quiet being a Tuesday night, but still the whole place seemed to still as they walked in. He didn’t care, he was used to it, being the scorn of society, but he knew that Martha cared. Her hand was still in his, though it was shaking, and he knew this was hard for her. Giving it a squeeze, he led her to the bar. James sauntered over to them, smiling at Martha. Sonny threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him and smiled at the man who now scowled, “I’ll have a large vodka, and Martha?”

                “Gin and tonic please.”

James nodded but paused to stare at Sonny for a moment, Martha sighed, “James?”

He moved off and got the drinks with the sullen stare of a teenager.

                “Will you stop it,” she hissed at Sonny. He in turn gave her an innocent ‘what me’ look. She rolled her eyes and watched him pay for the drinks, and they headed to a table in the corner recess of the bar.

                “So what happened today? Was it awful?”

He took a slug of his drink then sighed, “round and round in circles. Gripper’s got it in for me and is stirring things up. They rehashed everything that happened until they clarified my alibi. Presumed they spoke to some of the people who were in here that night.”

She leaned back against him and he put his arm around her, his lips against her hair, “is that it? Is it all over?”

                “Well there’s nothing else I can say or do.”

That pleased her; he could feel her relax against him. There was so much to say, so much to do, but for now he wanted to forget the day he’d had. Enjoy being with the woman he loved.

                “Thanks Paul.” Martha’s voice caused him to look up from behind the counter. There were three people left in the restaurant, the other staff had left.

                “No problem, it’s great having flexible working like this.”

                “Well knock off, get back to that family.”

He laughed, “and I thought work was a way to escape.”

Patting his back she smiled as he left. When she looked back into the room, Sonny was sliding another gin along the bar to her.

She took it, then perused the room, they were busy the following night, they needed to prepare, now that she had Ethan at home she wasn’t able to come to the restaurant at the drop of a hat, she needed to be more organised.

Sonny’s arms locking around her waist surprised her out of her daydream, “I’ll sort out everything out here, you need to cash up in the office?”

She nodded, “If I do I can go straight to the bank in the morning.”

With a nod, he smacked her on the bottom, encouraging her to head off to do her work.

                “All done!”

Martha looked up to see Sonny lounging against the doorframe, and remembered him being stood there a few weeks ago, the same hot look in his eyes.

                “Me too.” She shutdown her computer, then bagged the takings and secured them in the safe.

                “Ready for home?”

She nodded, “think so. You?”

He gave her a dazzling smile, “this room is bringing back memories.”

She glanced nervously around herself, “ha ha, me too...”

                “I want you Martha Mansell.”

She gulped, “now?”

He looked around, “as tempting as this is, I’m thinking of a comfy bed, in a secluded annex of the place we call home.”

Her eyes widened, “quiet, undisturbed...”

Smiling he stalked towards her, “the noisy stuff can happen there, cos it will be noisy...” He smiled as she gasped, “then we’ll sneak to my bed for long warm cuddles, so Ethan knows where you are. Sound like a plan?”

As she nodded, she nit her lip, anxiety and desire swirling to make her heady, confused even. Taking her hand he led her out into the cold night.

The house was in darkness, and conveniently, they could let themselves into the outhouse without having to disturb anyone. Still dragging her by the hand, Sonny took the stairs at pace, only pausing to turn on the small heater in the corner of the room and a single lamp. When he returned to his full height, he turned and pulled her into his arms.

When he’d met Martha she’d been shy, unsure of herself, but she wasn’t like that now, rubbing her delectable body up against him she had the ability to wind him up in knots. She wasn’t a passive kisser, but now she didn’t just kiss him back, she devoured him, and he was a happy prisoner to her ardour. Within moments she pushed him back onto the bed, and propped on his elbows he smiled as she climbed to kneel astride him. The confidence, the sexiness of her inundated his senses and whilst he wanted to turn the tables, be over her, feasting on the delight that was Martha, he was equally powerless, frozen, watching her attack his clothing with venom.

For Martha it was powerful to watch every inch of Sonny’s body revealed by her hands, to see him shuddering at her lips, or when her fingers raked his bare skin. He responded to her every touch so wholly, so completely that it only fuelled her hunger for more of him. As she stooped to lick his collar bone, his head rolled back and she was rewarded with a groan that sounded primeval. She ground his pelvis into his instinctively; she needed so much more of him. His t-shirt long abandoned, she started on his belt and jeans, and whilst she knew he wanted to bare her too, she knew that he was enjoying watching her move from his propped up position. He couldn’t attack her AND watch, and that torture was evident on his face.

Pulling back his jeans, she sighed, he was better than perfect, from his slightly smug expression to his hair dusted thighs. She ran her fingers over those thighs, watching as he jumped in excitement, straining, lurching against her.

                “Enough!” He breathed, flipping her over onto her back, “my turn now.”

Within seconds she was as exposed as him, naked bar her lace knickers, his head lowered, teasing, tasting and biting her body in all manner of delicious places.

                “I want you now,” she breathed, pushing away his shorts, and whilst Sonny loved foreplay, prolonging the pleasure and the pain in them both, at her words, his errant libido leapt for joy. As she tugged at his shorts, he reached for the bedside cabinet, opening the drawer. It was empty.

                “Shit!”

She paused, looked at him. Sonny rested his forehead on hers and sighed.

                “What?”

                “No condoms...”

She laughed, “really?”

He nodded, “I may have some up in my bedroom.”

Neither wanted to separate, Martha’s legs lifted and wrapped around his thighs, gluing them together, “I’m on the pill, and I haven’t done this with anyone else...are you...?”

Sonny stared at her, “I’ve never not used one, a condom that is.”

                “So that’s ok then? We’re safe?”

Sonny was reminded of all those warnings he’d had from so many people. He’d been prolific in terms of sleeping with women, but he wasn’t lying, he’d never not used a condom. He had no intention of ‘accidentally’ creating a child that wasn’t wanted. It was so important to him that he never created a child he would knowingly or even unknowingly abandon, much as he’d been abandoned, his own disastrous childhood was something he’d never want to inflict on another, it was more than important to him, it was his whole ethos. And he didn't trust the word of a woman to not trap him into his own form of personal hell.

Now he had a split second to decide whether or not to trust her, to go against everything he believed, everything that helped him control his future.

In the end it wasn’t his decision, Martha dragged them together, forcing herself close to him, and he could no longer resist, it wasn’t possible. And as she drew him into her, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven, nothing prepared him for how carnal it felt, how encompassing, how sensual it was. As he lost himself in her in a haze of desire, he wondered if he’d ever survive this, and if life would ever be the same again.

He was still inside her, and her scent was under her nostrils, there wasn’t an inch of his body that wasn’t mesmerised and controlled by the reciprocal part of her. Suddenly every song, every poem, every soppy film, they all made sense. This was the purpose of life, to be close to someone, to be two halves.

Martha stretched, finally rolling onto her side, head on his shoulders, legs entwined. It was amazing, what they’d shared. She knew it was a huge commitment from him, to be with her, but to also let his guard down in so many ways. She wasn’t lying to him, she was on the pill, she had been since she’d had Ethan, thought she’d not had a sexual partner. Following her emergency c-section she’d developed a uterine infection. It wasn’t spotted for a long time, and though it was treated with medication, she was left with lasting problems - horrendous periods that were managed fairly well by the contraceptive pill, but the more worrying thing, the omission, rather than the lie was that she had scar tissue as an after affect, nothing could be done to change that, and it meant that she’d not be able to have any more children. Just another legacy that she attributed to Scott Oldbury, and something she had to tell Sonny, sooner rather than later.