Final Score. Michelle Betham
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control wasn’t something Jim Allen liked to make a habit of. ‘You need to go, Brandon. Now. Please. I really need you to go.’
Brandon held up his hands in defeat, shaking his head as he walked over to the door, stopping when he reached Jim. ‘You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Dad. Acting like some kind of robot who pushes his feelings to one side. Someone who finds happiness – who actually has it right there in his hands, and then just lets it go, as though it means nothing. When it actually means everything. You can’t keep on doing this, because it’ll destroy you.’
Jim grabbed Brandon’s arm as he walked out of the door. ‘I get scared, Brandon.’
‘Who was she, Dad?’
Jim looked down, letting go of Brandon’s arm, signalling the end of the conversation. It was over. Done. Finished. For now.
Brandon left without saying another word. Jim waited until he heard the front door slam shut before pouring himself yet another drink, the alcohol doing little to numb those feelings that short conversation with his son had caused to resurface.
As he felt totally unexpected tears fill his eyes, he furiously blinked them back, refusing to let this bring him down. He just had to put it back where it belonged, out of his mind, out of reach, and carry on. Just like he had been doing ever since. Just like he needed to do again.
*
Amber closed the car door and leaned back against it, shutting her eyes as the cold north-easterly wind whipped across her face. But it was a reality she needed to feel before she stepped back inside a bubble she knew full well she should be steering clear of. It had burst so many times she couldn’t really keep count any more, but it was a bubble she needed to be in right now. She needed him, needed his touch, his kiss; she needed to feel him inside her. She needed that.
Walking slowly up the driveway, she ran her fingers lightly along the side of his car, already feeling the forecasted frost begin to form on the cold surface. She began to shiver, the temperature was rapidly falling as the night wore on, and for a brief second she wondered if the fact she’d spent the last two hours just driving around – was that a warning sign? Should she be listening to those alarm bells, no matter how quietly they were ringing? If she’d needed him that much, why hadn’t she just come straight here when she’d left Tynebridge?
Finally reaching the front door she watched her fingers as they hovered over the bell. Pressing it was going to restart something she wasn’t sure she was ready for. But it was something she couldn’t stop from happening, because Ronnie was right. She was weak. Where Jim Allen was concerned she was weaker than any human being should ever be.
Pressing down on the bell she took a small step back. She still had a couple of seconds left to run away, to get out of there. To grow up and do what she’d said she was going to do – leave here and try and make a new start in London. But nothing could make her turn away from this, and she knew that. Now. She knew that.
Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest as the door slowly opened, her stomach doing that same old dip and dive as she looked up and saw him standing there. He was wearing faded, battered jeans and a dark t-shirt, his hair a little longer than he usually wore it, and the only thing she could think about was burying her fingers in it and messing it up as she lay underneath him.
‘I need you,’ she whispered, unable to do anything about the zillion and one butterflies that had just started flying around inside her.
He smiled the same smile that had reeled her in and dragged her into his world over twenty years ago. That same smile that could do it all over again, because she’d let it.
Closing the door behind her she looked at him, letting every memory of this man wash over her. Every beautiful kiss, every tiny touch – every heartbreaking goodbye. They all came back to visit, all at once, making her twice as confused, but it didn’t matter. They could stay there, embed themselves in her brain on a permanent basis and she knew she still couldn’t walk away from this. He was too much a part of her, and even if he broke her heart a million times more she was always going to love him. So, what did that say about her? What did that say about Amber Sullivan – that feisty, strong, independent woman who’d once thought she could take on the world. What did that say about her?
She walked over to him, taking the glass he was holding out of his hand, their eyes locked together. Reaching out to touch his mouth with her fingertips, she felt an altogether different kind of shiver engulf her as his hand rested lightly on her hip, pulling her just that little bit closer to him. Once more, the invisible cord she couldn’t seem to cut had brought her back here, back to him, and there was nowhere else she wanted to be.
Standing up on tiptoes she closed her eyes as her lips touched his, so gently they just brushed over them at first, but it was enough to cause those goosebumps to break out, that wave of confusion to be washed away by something far harder to understand. And as his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her against him, his mouth pressing down harder on hers, she shut out everything else – Ryan, Ronnie; even Rico. She shut them all out, because she wanted nothing to spoil this. She wanted nothing to get in the way of what she was about to do.
They were never going to make it upstairs, she knew that. They were never going to make it that far. It was going to happen right here, but it wasn’t going to be the quick and harsh encounter they’d shared earlier. She didn’t want that. She wanted to feel him properly, to take in every touch of his fingers on her skin. She wanted to sink deep into his kisses, feel him move inside her as their bodies once more became one. She wanted all of that. She wanted him.
Stepping back slightly, she smiled as he leaned back against the wall, folding his arms, his eyes on her as she slowly stripped. And all that did was heighten everything she was already feeling, turning her on even more as all those things she was trying to push to the back of her mind slowly started to fade away.
‘Leave the boots on,’ he said, his eyes still boring into hers. ‘Jesus, baby, please leave those boots on.’
She couldn’t help smiling as she walked back over to him, now wearing nothing but black, knee-high boots, pressing her naked body against his still fully-clothed one.
‘I’d forgotten how much you kill me, Amber.’ His voice was low and oh-so-sexy as his mouth rested on hers. ‘What you do to my head, honey, it’s crazy.’
‘I shouldn’t be here,’ she whispered, slowly pulling his t-shirt off over his head, flinging it aside like a used rag.
‘Then why are you?’
‘Because I need you.’ She began pulling the belt away from his jeans. ‘I already told you that. Because I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how much I try.’ She ran her thumb over his cheek, his stubble rough beneath her fingers. ‘And because I’m weak.’
He took hold of her hand, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing it. ‘I can’t stand here and promise I won’t hurt you again, Amber…’
She shook her head. ‘Don’t say anything, Jim, please. Just… just don’t say anything.’
His hand tightened around hers, their eyes still locked together. ‘I don’t want to hurt you…’
‘It’s too late for that.’
He finally broke the stare, but only for a brief second. ‘I’m glad you came. I didn’t think you would.’
‘Oh, you knew I would, Jim. You knew I would come.’
He bowed his head, once more breaking the stare. And when he finally raised it he said nothing, just wound his fingers into her hair and pulled her forwards, kissing her slowly. And Amber felt herself falling again, faster and faster, deeper and deeper into that web of pain and heartache that she couldn’t stay away from. It was almost as if everything he put her through was a turn-on.
As he gently lowered her down onto the stairs she felt a tiny twinge of reality nip at her conscience, the image of her beautiful baby boy swimming before her eyes and she squeezed