Holly Lester Read Online Free PDF Page B

countless all-white living rooms he had encountered, the latest efforts of yet another chic Japanese designer. To Billings the room represented the sheer comforting dullness he associated with ‘back home’. For years he had yearned for it; now to discover it in the company of Holly Lester was tremendously exciting. ‘At least we’re on our own here. You’ve managed to give Security the slip.’
    Holly sighed. ‘Yes, but it’s getting more difficult. God knows what it will be like in future.’
    â€˜Whose flat is this anyway?’
    â€˜Just friends,’ she said quietly.
    â€˜They live here?’ he asked, a little incredulously.
    â€˜Don’t worry. They won’t show up.’ After her determined energy taking him here, Holly seemed less animated, almost shy. ‘Would you like a drink?’ she asked, pointing to a tray of bottles sitting amidst the miniatures. They were all liqueurs – crème de menthe, Cointreau, Grand Marnier. Never favourites of Billings, who drank wine or whisky.
    â€˜Perhaps afterwards,’ he said, then swallowed when he realized what he’d said. ‘So to speak,’ he added weakly.
    â€˜So to speak?’ She giggled. ‘You should know that I’m quite literal-minded.’ She looked at him contemplatively before speaking. ‘So afterwards it is,’ and she led the way into the bedroom, going ahead to stand by the window, where she looked out over Wimpole Street through the white gauze curtains.
    He worried that she might be changing her mind, but resisted the temptation to say anything. When she turned around she smiled at him. ‘Well,’ she said, and nodded towards the bed, ‘I’ve seen bigger, but it will have to do. Why don’t you warm the bed up while I pop to the loo?’
    Naked under the covers, Billings felt cold and pale – his arms seemed pallid against the sheets, which were canary yellow. When Holly came out of the bathroom, he saw that she had taken off everything except her bra and pants. Her skin was only lightly tanned, but contrasted vividly with the dazzling white cotton of her underwear. As she unhooked her bra she looked away, then shook her mane of black hair as if just out of the shower. Her breasts jiggled; they were round and full, and as tanned as the rest of her. She leant down and pulled back the covers, then quickly scooped off her underpants and climbed in. Billings moved away and turned on his side to make room. ‘Brrr,’ she whispered, shivering. ‘Warm me up please.’
    He turned and kissed her slowly at first, finding her lips deliciously soft. They tasted slightly sweet, with the faintest hint of peach from her lipstick. When he tried to kiss her harder, her lips seemed to move round his own, frustrating his search for firmness so that he slowed down, and eased the pressure of his own kiss.
    He moved a hand up and gently rubbed her breast. She shivered again, this time not from the cold. Moving lower, he brushed his palm lightly down her stomach, which was flat and extraordinarily smooth.
    She moved her own hand down and touched him, stroking lightly while they continued to kiss. Then she broke her lips away. ‘Soon,’ she murmured.
    He pulled his head back gently and looked at her. ‘Is it safe? I haven’t got anything with me.’
    She thrust her head back against the pillow, puffed her cheeks, then blew the air out. ‘You’re right.’ She lifted back the sheet and swung out of the bed. Going to the chair by the window, she rummaged in her handbag. ‘Here,’ she said, flipping a small foil package at him in bed. ‘This should do.’
    He inspected the package and found it covered in Oriental lettering. On the back he found, in small print, MADE IN KOREA. ‘A Korean condom?’ he said, as she got back into bed. Where had she found it? Had there been an Opposition fact-finding tour of the