Dirty Minds Read Online Free PDF Page B

stumbled and would have fallen. He took her hand and sat her down on the sofa. Pushing her backwards, he stood up, tore off his remaining clothes, then stepped towards her. She clenched her teeth to stop herself from screaming with pleasure. This was definitely not the time to wake the kids.
    He thrust at her powerfully, pushing her back against the cushions until she could hold on no longer. Reaching up, she caught his chest hair in her fingers. She tugged him down towards her until her mouth reached his. Spearing him with her tongue, she climaxed more violently than she had for months, years, maybe ever.
    Seconds later she felt him shudder. Her hands slid round to his buttocks, gripping him firmly, his muscles tensing against her fingers. She held him as he climaxed in his turn. They remained like that for some minutes. Then, slowly, he leant forward and pressed a soft kiss onto her lips. He slumped down onto the sofa beside her, one hand cupping her breast.
    ‘Wow.’ She could barely speak.
    ‘Wow, indeed.’ His voice was little more than a whisper.
    They lay together for quite some time, before she roused herself, sat up and took stock. Her neck was aching from the pressure against the back of the sofa. Her nipples were stinging, and her buttocks hurt. But it didn’t matter one jot. What they had just experienced had been amazing.
    ‘Did I hurt you?’ He sounded subdued, apologetic even. She looked over at him, flopped on his back, still bathed in sweat. He looked unexpectedly vulnerable.
    ‘Of course you did. I feel as if I’ve just been run over.’ Seeing the concern on his face, she slid across towards him. ‘But I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’
    He hugged her to him.
    ‘Well, I think that maybe answers the “encounter” question. Now all you need is a historic period of time and a place.’
    She returned her mind to the question in hand. She felt sure that if she could reproduce in words what had just happened between them, she would be chosen to write the book. But what about the where and when?
    Any further discussion of the writing project was interrupted by a plaintive little voice from the hall.
    ‘Mummy, Ben’s taken Mr Ted and he won’t give him back.’ There was a muffled sniff. ‘And the lounge door won’t open. Mummy, are you there?’
    Luca caught her eye as she dropped onto her knees and started to collect her clothes from the floor. He gave her a broad wink.
    ‘It’s all right, Milly. Mummy’s coming right out.’

Chapter Seven
    ‘Post! There’s a big envelope for a Ms Penelope Grainger. It doesn’t look like a bill.’
    It was Scott. The clock on her desk said almost four o’clock. He must have ducked out of his three o’clock lecture. She folded the corner of page 342 of
Germinal
and clicked off the reading lamp. She had been at it for a good four hours. No wonder she was feeling a bit stiff. And hungry. She stepped over the laundry basket and made her way out onto the landing.
    ‘You making tea, Pen?’ Jamie’s hearing was phenomenal. He had heard the creaky top step even with headphones on.
    ‘I am now. I’ll bring one up.’
    ‘You’ll make somebody a wonderful wife one day.’
    ‘Bugger off, Jamie.’
    She picked up her letters at the bottom of the staircase. Scott had got as far as shouting about them but he hadn’t avoided them with his wet feet. Nottingham, like the rest of the UK, was enjoying its longest spell of uninterrupted rain for a century. Everywhere was soaked. The weekly letter from her mother looked decidedly soggy. Under it was a big white envelope. She turned it over in her hands. Her name and address had been handwritten. She took it into the kitchen to open it. Scott was in there, drying out.
    ‘Hi, Pen. Kettle’s just boiled. Want tea?’
    ‘Thanks, Scotty, that’ll be great. And make one for the doctor, will you?’
    She took the envelope over to the window. The wind had got up. The rain was being blown against the glass.