Elizabeta Brooke: Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan

She reached out her hand. "Good luck, Billy."

He raised his head, and at the same moment as his large hand enclosed her slender fingers, their eyes met. It jolted her — not so much her body, but through her soul and her peripheral vision narrowed down until his face was all she could see. Warm skin, hungry eyes, a tentative smile. She was at the nexus then, her own personal decision time. One step towards Billy and she'd slip out of her world and into his. It would be a deep world, rich with sensations and fraught with emotional insecurity.

Or she could stay in the world she knew. The world of James and her work, where the pleasures were shallow and the dangers known.

What would she do?

Billy's smile had disappeared under the crushing intensity of the tension surrounding them. "Goodbye, Dr Williams."

But neither of them broke the connection and they stood for the longest time staring into each other's eyes. Dee felt her grip on reality slipping as the warmth from his hand, with its slightly rough skin, seeped up her arm.

"Billy." It wasn't a question, or even a plea. She just said his name. This was the moment, the jumping off point.

The phone rang.

Billy flinched and pulled his hand away as though he'd been bitten, but Dee wasn't as quick to react.

"Thanks, Dr Williams," he said backing out, and was into the hallway with the door shut behind himself before she could even think to lower her hand.

The phone continued to ring for what seemed like minutes before she could motivate herself to turn and lift the receiver. Even then she held it mutely, unable to move past what had just happened.

Hello?

James! She forced her lips to move. "Hello."

Oh, hello Dear. I'm sorry this is sudden, but I'm afraid I'll have to fly out this afternoon. That wretched administrator's conference has been brought forward to this weekend.

"Oh. Right." Dee swallowed past the sick taste in her mouth.

Are you well, Dear? You sound odd.

"Mmmm?" She went to her chair and sat down, her gaze drifting to the closed door.

Wendee?

"Yes…"

Are you ill?

"No…"

Perhaps I shouldn't -

"No. I'm fine." She pulled herself together. "It's just the phone. I'm having trouble with it."

Shall I call maintenance for you?

"No, I…" She closed her eyes. "I'll sort it out."

As you wish. I'll see you early Monday then. Have a nice weekend.

"Right…" She added a lame, "See you Monday," but he'd already hung up. He'd have several other calls to make before he could leave, and she'd long gotten out of the habit of wondering what priority hers had been given.

Reaching across blindly, she replaced the receiver, rattling it against the body of the phone before it fell into its cradle. Then there was quiet in the room, and into that silence one word kept repeating itself over and over again inside her mind. The one word she'd never been able to understand.

Love.

Outside her door it was all Billy could do to fall back against the wall, his trembling legs barely keeping him upright. She hadn't treated him like a school boy or a dumb bush-bunny. She'd listened to him, actually looked at him, and for a agonisingly exquisite moment she'd touched him, and he was sure he'd seen more than sympathy in her eyes.

She was so beautiful. So sexy. All that shiny dark hair that he knew would fall past her shoulders if she'd only let it loose, those eyes that could make you hard just by looking at you, and that mouth…

Billy groaned softly, levering himself off the wall to shuffle uncomfortably down the hallway towards the toilets. Once inside the tiny white cubicle he let himself think about her mouth, really think about it. How soft and red it looked. How her tongue came out and touched her top lip when she was thinking. How it moved so seductively when she was eating, especially icecream. He knew she liked rum-raisin icecream and every time he bought one for himself he thought of her.

He was sure she'd never seen him watching her. He was careful to keep in the background, never following her off campus and only in the daytime when there were groups of other students around. It was easy really, although he knew it wasn't right.

She belonged to Dean Williams, and she was faithful to him. That was another thing Billy loved about her. The other blokes talked about her, and Billy was hard put not to tell them to shut up sometimes, but one thing he'd gleaned was that according to the campus grapevine she'd never been unfaithful. She was as virtuous as she was beautiful, and so incredibly sexy that Billy would willingly give ten years of his life just to kiss her.

Of course he never would, but the familiar aching warmth suffused his body as he imagined her nestled in his arms, her soft lips against his and that pink tongue of hers sliding into his mouth, her breasts pressing against his chest as he stroked her soft hair…

" Oh God," he groaned, then looked down in shock to find his idle hands had been doing the devil's work.

"God," he repeated blankly, blaspheming again as the precious seeds of creation, his seeds, trailed down the stained white tiles at the back of the cubicle. Then he trembled as the reality of what he'd done hit him full in the face.

"Oh, God. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispered hysterically, stuffing the sinful organ, still pulsing, back into his pants. "Please, God. I didn't mean to do it." He snatched handfuls of toilet paper and scrubbed frantically at the wall. "Don't send me to hell."

Billy knew as sure as he was a sinner that Dr Williams wouldn't be going to hell. She'd be going to heaven and he couldn't bear the thought of spending eternity separated from the one woman he truly loved. He'd have to read his Bible. He'd have to write to his mother and go to church twice on Sunday to make up for what he'd just done.

In a hurry to get away from his transgression he dropped the sticky paper into the toilet and flushed it, then he went to the sink and scrubbed his hands over and over again with soap. Only then did he rejoin his fellow students, keeping in the pack for as long as he could, unable to bear the thought of what he might do if he was alone.

He was dirty and untrustworthy and he'd have to keep away from Dr Williams or he might corrupt her as unconsciously as he'd corrupted his own body. Besides it'd take all of his attention to work on repenting his sins.

He should never have gone to see her, but the from the moment he'd discovered she was the Convenor of First Year he'd been unable to think of anything else. To see her up close, to actually talk to her. Touching her had been beyond his wildest expectations, but he was sure now that he'd had time to think about it, what he'd taken as interest on her part must have been something else.

She'd probably been busy and he'd distracted her from her work. He wouldn't do it again. He'd also stop thinking about her lips and pray his love for her was pure enough to wish her happiness in her marriage. She deserved that. Unfortunately, that afternoon as he'd heard a fellow student talking, Billy realised his good intentions would never work and that he was hopelessly beyond redemption.

Pog, a short Lebanese boy whose obsession with American slang consistently grated on Billy's nerves, was relating a story to an avid group of undergrads. The details of his latest adventure had been of no interest to Billy until he'd heard Dr Williams name mentioned.

Apparently Pog had been helping with the family bottled water business by making weekend deliveries to gymnasiums. He'd just entered an exclusive Gold Coast health club when he'd seen 'Legs' as they called Dr Williams, emerging from an aerobics class wearing lime green leotards that, hugged those curves like a Ferrari, dude.

"What about her tits? Has she got big tits? You can never tell under those baggy suits she wears?" another had asked.