Carrying on directly from the previous scene, with scene 27. Then the morning after with scene 28.

The rating goes up to M in this posting. So please be aware of that.

Malcolm and Beth move into unplanned territory and there's no going back...

Scene 27

Despite all her misgivings, as to what she wanted and how she felt, Beth could feel her blood rise at his touch, she could feel her own pulse through her neck and down her chest as his mouth moved against her own.

The wall of guilt she'd built around herself, the doubt, the denial, began to dissolve and melt away. She felt alive. The numbness that haunted her, waking and sleeping, was fading, being forced back, so that her skin tingled, muscles trembled, breathing increased.

This wasn't planned.

She didn't really know how they found their way upstairs, she had a vague recollection of leading him, by the hand, of him following willingly, his expression a mixture of suppressed desire and anxiety.

He seemed reluctant to break the contact between their lips, as he laid her back, onto the bed, cushioning her with his arms as he did so. His body partly over hers.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

"I'm sure Malcolm." The small sound that left his lips when she replied, sent a thrill right through her.

Shaking fingers fumbled with each other's clothes, it was not a frenzied, feverish thing, instead it was slow, exploratory, hesitant and passionate.

"I didn't come prepared for this...I don't have anything, no condom..."

His voice was wavering, uncertain, almost frightened.

"Malcolm, I haven't had a period since James died...neither of us have had sex for longer than we both care to admit...I think you're pretty safe!"

"Sorry," he murmured, " I didn't want to just assume..."

"It's fine. You're a gentleman, and I appreciate it. Thank you..."

They were both naked now, each drinking in the sight of the other, relishing the sensation, the touch of skin to skin, the heat between them. It was intoxicating.

At his first intimate touch, she gasped aloud, head back, neck exposed to him,

"Oh my God!" She cried.

"You okay...?"

"Jesus! Yes, I'm okay...it's just really..."

"Intense?"

"Yeah!...shit, slow down, or you'll make me come, I'm not going to be able to hold it..."

Her body was already rising and falling in tune with the rhythm of his fingers, she whimpered against his lips, wantonly.

He hummed with appreciation as she closed her hand around his cock, stroking upwards, across the engorged head, then down again.

"Make love to me Malcolm...please! I want you...so badly."

"God, I'm not going to last either," he managed to pant out, "It's a fucking long time since I've been this turned on."

He'd been able to feel that she was loosing control, as soon as his fingers found her, she was moving against him and moaning desperately.

Guiding himself into her, and thrusting forwards, his whole body pulsed with an electric current, he cried out, loud, feral, almost a howl.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Beth..."

He was moving now, inside her, on the edge almost immediately, hovering, teetering; then pulsing, exploding, violently, movement erratic, as she came hard beneath him, eyes tightly closed, mouth open.

"Malcolm...! God...!"

For the first time in over two years for both of them, they woke and found they were not alone.

She was curled against his chest, their legs entangled. Warm, dozing, blissful.

Fuck it all, he felt safe.

She made him feel that, and he hadn't felt it for so long. Years in the wilderness, felt like nine hundred years. He was on the brink of blubbing again. A small sob seeped from him.

"Mmmmm?" She opened her eyes, hair awry, but glorious, sensual.

"Hey!" He whispered, swallowing down the emotion and pulling her closer,

"You okay?"

"Better than okay...but I'm starving! You hungry?"

He suddenly realised he was. Ravenous. And he'd slept all night...not waking once, not even to pee, not needing to rise before five, as he almost always did.

In fact it was nearly seven. And he didn't care.

"Breakfast? Or a cuddle? Or a cuddle followed by breakfast?" She said, moving her hip toward his own.

His cock answered the question for him.

Seated at her kitchen table, with a proper cafetière in front of him, and bacon, eggs and toast, watching the fluidity of her movement, as she dished up, poured juice, tucked her hair behind one ear, he felt he'd died and gone to heaven. He was in real danger of wanting this far too much...real danger.

"You're staring." She licked marmalade from her index finger.

"Sorry!" He said, somewhat shamefaced,

"It's good, this...what we're doing? Tell me it's good, yeah?"

She regarded him for a moment, then crossed behind him where he sat, placing her arms around his neck, her face close to his own, and planted a kiss on his neck.

"It's good Malcolm." She said, simply.

Scene 28

Several text messages, four of them from Clara.

Dad

Where are you? Tried your home phone. Call me.

Clara xx

Dad

I've tried your mobile three times, left you a voice mail.

Guessing/hoping you have no signal.

Clara xx

Ok Dad

It's two in the morning and you've not called me, seriously worried now.

For fucks sake ring or text me so I know you're ok

Clara...going mental xxx

Dad.

Right, one more hour and I'm ringing the police.

I don't know where the fuck you are and I'm really scared now.

Your Clara xxx

Malcolm read the messages.

"Shit, I think I'm in trouble!"

Beth laughed.

"Ring her, now! At least you have someone you know cares about you Malcolm."

So angry was his daughter when he called, especially after the scare he'd given her after Beth's gig, that he had to hold the phone away from his ear, with a hang dog expression as she ranted at him.

The only word he managed to butt in was...

"Sorry"...rant, rave..."sorry"...shout, scream..."sorry!"

He hung up, suitably admonished.

"It's like she's the parent and I'm the child!" He grimaced.

"Such a bossy boots, and a control freak! "

"She's just worried about you, I'd have been the same, if you'd suddenly dropped off the radar after two odd years of calling her nearly every day!"

She cleared the breakfast things away.

"Come on, lover boy, shift your backside...we need to get to work."

"No! Fuck it. I'm not going in today. Malcolm Tucker has left the building. It's Friday, I'm taking one of the, oh, let's see...3 months of unused holiday I'm owed? I'm having a long weekend. Let the wankers get on with it. They can do without me for one day."

Beth was ashamed of herself. Very ashamed. She phoned in sick.

She, who was, 'Beth, I never do anything dishonest'...pulled a sickie, and spent the day with Malcolm.

They caught the river boat at Westminster Pier and chugged lazily down to Kew. They shared a pub lunch, sitting under the shade of an umbrella, with a glass of wine, watching the world go by.

Late in the afternoon, having called by Malcolm's place, so he could grab some fresh clothes, they went back to hers, and back to bed, where they indulged in some, as Malcolm later described it, pretty amazing sex!

In the evening he took her out to dinner, one of his favourite restaurants near Covent Garden. Afterwards, they just strolled, hand in hand. They talked, a great deal. Laughed, frequently. Just relishing the togetherness, the newness of it all. It was good.