Read Online The One Before the One by Katy Regan - Free Book Online Page A

hell, you know I think that – I just mean in the way you are.’ He pushes me gently against the worktop and kisses me. ‘You have a rare gift for a woman.’
    Our noses are touching now; I’m staring right into his blue, blue eyes.
    ‘Really? And what’s that?’
    ‘You’re able to compartmentalize things. Get what you want, when you want. You’re in control of things. It’s ridiculously sexy …’ He puts his hand between my legs. I remove it.
    ‘Stop that! You’ll set me off.’
    ‘Like, take a look at this. This book club. This little fuck club of ours, young lady.’ He’s putting his hands through my hair piling it on top of my head.
    I open my mouth to laugh but nothing comes out.
    ‘Don’t pretend you didn’t orchestrate all this. This suits you down to the ground, doesn’t it? You schedule me in on a fortnightly basis. Three hours. Your house. Nice and tidy.’
    I prod his stomach, look at him saucily.
    ‘Now you’re making me out to be some sort of cold fish.’
    ‘I’m trying to give you a compliment, actually. All I’m saying is that you’re not governed by constant, irrational emotion like most women, are you, Caroline?’
    ‘Oh God no. No, no! Never been like that.’
    ‘Not like Rachel. Jesus! She’s such a woman, is Rachel.’
    I lean against his chest. The mention of Rachel – which doesn’t happen often – incites a sort of fascinated fear in me. Like I want him to shut up and carry on all at the same time.
    ‘What do you mean by that?’
    ‘I just mean it’s constant, you know?’
    ‘Constant what?’
    Don’t dig too much. Remain nonchalant. Nonchalant and not governed by constant, irrational emotion.
    ‘Constant woman-ness with her. It’s
all
about her, Steeley. If she’s not spending the whole bloody weekend counselling some boring friend about her drama, she’s having a drama herself. Or we’re going to yet another do with the boringUni Girls, or yet another boring awards ceremony for her. Or she’s working, always working.’
    I feel a stab of insecurity. Rachel is well-known in the industry for winning awards. When she first met Toby she was selling soft drinks and used to sweep the board at the Trade’s Awards, twice being named Sales Person of the Year.
    ‘Sex has gone completely off the radar, she’s not interested.’
    ‘How …’ I kiss him ‘… can that be possible when you’re such an irresistible sex god?’
    He laughs.
    ‘She’s uptight. Doesn’t let herself go, like you. If we do have sex, it’s like something that’s got to be factored in to her tight schedule, something on her fucking endless To Do list, do you know what I mean?’
    I shake my head. To Do list. Who would reduce their entire life to a To Do list?
    ‘To be honest, sometimes,’ he says, ‘I feel like an extra in the show that is Rachel’s life.’
    ‘Well,’ I say, slipping a hand under his shirt. (Must balance fine line between wanton sex goddess and only-woman-who-understands-him.) ‘We can’t have that.’
    Toby cups my face in his hand.
    ‘Fuck me, I fancy you,’ he says. ‘What is it about you, Caroline Steele, that means that when I am around you, I just want to have sex with you?’
    Our top halves are off in seconds, the bottom two of Toby’s shirt buttons sent skidding across the floor. Toby pushes me backwards against the fridge, sending magnets and papers flying. I cover his chest with kisses, his hair smells incredible, that shower-fresh, sugary, bakery smell, times about five hundred. I inhale as he pushes my hair back and kisses me, hard; on my face, my neck, my breasts. There’s the feverish undoing of belts, which is awkward since I am wearing one of those fabric ones and for some reason he keeps squeezingit the wrong way so that my insides are getting squashed. Finally, after much giggling, I’m up against my fridge, naked, jeans around my ankles. A woman possessed. Possessed by a harlot in my own kitchen.
    I want him so badly now. I drop