Jane Lark - Just for the Rush

‘Different.’

He handed me the joint again. I breathed the smoke in and held it in my lungs for a minute, like he was doing. Then breathed it out.

Shit, it hit my bloodstream hard and my head spun. It was like being drunk, except when you were drunk you had no control. I still felt in control.

I handed the joint back to him. It was making me feel sick.

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah.’ I nodded. The room spun.

He took two more puffs, then leant and opened the burner and threw the rest of it into the fire.

I drank the last of my ale.

He drank his, set his bottle down on the hearth, then took my empty bottle and put that down too.

‘Take your top off, Ivy.’

I still had my hoodie on. I slipped it off as he got up, and I toppled on to my back, with my hoodie stuck on my arms.

I laughed as I stripped it off.

He’d gone into the kitchen.

When he came back. I threw my hoodie on to the empty sofa.

He had a tea towel in his hand.

‘Blindfold, remember.’ He waved it at me. His forfeit. Then I remembered my choice. After he’d done whatever, I was going to tie him up with it.

His legs straddled mine when he dropped on to the cushions and he lay the tea-towel over my chest and folded it over several times on a diagonal until it was a band. ‘Lift your head.’ He set it over my eyes, wrapped it around and tied it behind my head. It was tight. I couldn’t see.

My heartbeat was a sound joining in with the music; I could feel its rhythm in my chest. It reverberated through my body. Then there was a rush of adrenaline, but the rush came in an odd way, it was as if someone had pressed slow motion.

I wanted him.

I wanted to do things with him.

I wanted him to do things to me.

‘Ivy. Ivy. Ivy.’ His words danced on the air as he began unbuttoning the blouse I’d worn into work this morning – I was never going to be able to wear it to work again.

His fingers brushed against my skin – he wasn’t hurrying, he was doing it slowly and I could sense him watching what he did and looking at the skin he revealed. It made my pulse race, and my body hotter, and both sensations were amplified by the cannabis.

‘Oh, my fuck… You have abs.’ His fingers slid another button loose and then began tracing lines on my belly. ‘I always knew you were fit – I mean fit as in the amazing-looking sense of the word. But you are beautiful.’

His fingertips skimmed over the hollows on my stomach. Following the lines with reverence.

Rick had never made me feel appreciated physically like this.

‘I’m lucky, it’s in my genes.’

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