agreed, and Eloise knew she mustn’t take Jacob’s attitude personally. She remained at the table talking to Andrew and Elizabeth for nearly an hour and then they transferred to the living room to watch the late evening news on television. At 10.30 Eloise kissed them both good night and made her way upstairs. They were lovely people and made her feel so welcome – more than Jacob had done tonight, she thought, but quickly dismissed this as unkind and selfish. Of course it would take time for him to adjust and recover. She assumed he wouldn’t be visiting her room tonight.
Quietly crossing the landing so as not to wake Jacob, she entered the guest room that had become hers. It was comfortable, with a single bed and a faint smell of jasmine from the reed diffuser Elizabeth had placed on the chest of drawers. Over the last few years – since she’d begun staying – this room had gradually become her home from home, and she kept a toothbrush and toiletries in the small en-suite bathroom, and a change of clothes in the wardrobe. She felt relaxed and at ease here, not only in this room but in the whole house.
She washed, changed, and then, yawning, climbed gratefully into bed. The end of the school week was always tiring with the children excitable at the prospect of the weekend, and tonight she’d met heavy traffic on the way over too. But she was here now and there’d be plenty of time to unwind and de-stress over the weekend. She wasn’t returning home until after dinner on Sunday as she had often done before Jacob’s operation. But this time when Elizabeth had telephoned to check she would be staying the whole weekend she’d been concerned.
‘Are you sure it won’t be too much trouble with Jacob just home?’ she’d asked.
‘Don’t be silly, of course not,’ Elizabeth had chided warmly. ‘It will do Jacob good, and you know I always appreciate your company. You already feel like my daughter-in-law.’
This had pleased Eloise immensely. She had always got on well with Elizabeth and had come to feel she had a place in their family, assuming, as Elizabeth did, that one day she really would be her daughter-in-law. Jacob had said as much before his illness – ‘As soon as we’ve saved enough for a deposit on a home of our own I’ll propose.’ So it was an unannounced engagement where they’d implicitly promised themselves to each other and lived their daily lives in the comfortable knowledge that they were a couple. And while their plans to marry had been put on hold with the onset of Jacob’s illness, Eloise had no doubt that once he’d recovered and returned to work, their plans and saving would continue and reach fruition.
With these happy thoughts as bedfellows, Eloise quickly fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. She was fast asleep, lying on her side, when the door to her room silently opened and then closed again. She didn’t stir. The room was pitch black; at the rear of the house there were no streetlamps, just meadows where cows grazed. Outside a thick cloud covered a moonless grey sky so even though her curtains were parted no light shone in.
The first she knew that someone was in her room was when a hand covered her mouth and she woke with a start. Then his familiar breath, hot on her cheek as he hissed close to her ear.
‘Sssh. Be quiet or they’ll hear you.’ It was a moment before he removed his hand.
‘Jacob, you scared me to death,’ she said, turning to him. Her heart was still pounding from the shock. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to my room?’
‘A surprise,’ he said, and climbed into bed beside her.
She moved over to make room for him, propping herself on her side to look at him. Her pulse began to settle. Jacob eased himself onto his back and she snuggled close, draping one arm over his stomach, well away from the angry scar on his chest. He’d lost that clinical smell which had pervaded his room at the hospital, and now smelt of his deodorant and the fabric conditioner Elizabeth added to the laundry. She breathed it in, homely and comforting.
‘What time is it?’ she whispered, enjoying the warmth and intimacy of his body. It had been a long time since they’d had the opportunity to lie close.
‘Twelve-thirty,’ he whispered. ‘My parents are in bed and asleep.’
‘I thought you were asleep too,’ she said with a small laugh.
‘I’ve been waiting for them to come up so I could visit you. Just like old times.’ He picked up her hand that was resting on his stomach and placed it on the outside of his shorts.
‘Jacob!’ she said surprised. ‘We can’t, can we? Not yet?’
‘Why not?’ He pressed her hand onto him and felt him stir.
‘You’re not well enough, are you?’
‘Let’s put it to the test,’ he said roguishly. He eased off his shorts and then curled her fingers around him, growing firmer under her touch.
She assumed he wanted her to masturbate him as she had done when he’d been too ill and weak before the operation to make love properly. He’d touched her too, although she hadn’t got much pleasure from it. A large part of making love for her was the warmth and weight of his body on hers as they moved together as one. But she appreciated that men were different in their sexual wants and needs, and it had helped restore some of his confidence – his masculinity, he’d said.
‘He may need a bit of encouragement,’ Jacob said, moving her hand to work up and down the shaft of his penis, before reaching out and switching on the lamp.
‘Jacob!’ she said, startled. She blinked into the light.
‘That’s better. I need to see.’
He threw back the duvet so he could watch properly, see her hand on his dick, but the movement was too delicate.
‘Harder. Faster,’ he said, and gripping her hand showed her what to do. How he would have liked to have shoved it in her mouth as the bloke on the film he’d watched on his laptop had done, but he didn’t think she was ready for that, not yet. Not prim Eloise. Next time, he promised himself.
He was big now, he could see how big he was, and getting bigger by the second. Hard, proud and bold as the blood coursed through his veins. He was standing to attention as he hadn’t done for a long while. Watching her hand move up and down was adding to his pleasure. ‘Take off your nightdress,’ he said, tugging at it.
She didn’t and her hand lost some of its firmness. ‘I need to see you,’ he said again urgently. Why didn’t she understand? He tugged harder, yanked at the buttons at the top of her nightdress and they gave way. She gave a small cry, presumably of pleasure. Women liked forceful blokes, didn’t they? He roughly pulled the nightdress from her and rubbed his hand over her breasts and then down between her legs, making her cry out again.
‘Sit on me,’ he demanded, tweaking her nipple. ‘It’s the only way I can have you.’ While this was true, more importantly it was part of the image he’d nurtured all afternoon, having downloaded it from the internet. The very thought of the picture fuelled his pleasure.
‘Sit on me,’ he said again, pushing her body down the bed and towards his crotch.
She was hesitant to begin with, resisting a little. Playing hard to get. But with another firm push she did as she was told and sat astride him, knees bent. She was clearly reluctant to open her legs really wide and display herself to him as he would be able to see everything, and with her legs as they were, he struggled to get himself in. Taking hold of her knees, he forced her legs wide apart, as wide as they would go,
