Part One Hundred And Seventy Six
A week later, however, Connie was heartily wishing for a lot more of Ric's out of work company, and wishing with the same level of suppressed ardour that Will Curtis had never been born. But at least the devil incarnate had a day off today, meaning that she and her other registrar, Sam Strachan, could get on with their work in peace. Connie had spent most of the day in her office, catching up on e-mails, financial projections for the hospital's next quarter, and the general day to day tedium of being the Medical Director. This did at least mean that Sam could play the part of the dashing consultant, something that often seemed to make him produce far better work, much to her amusement. She liked Sam, even though he was a little foolhardy at times. Her spine cracked as she stretched, having spent most of the day sat at her computer. God, what she wouldn't give for a long soak in the bath and a stiff drink really wasn't worth contemplating.
But just as she was circling her arms to get some of the stiffness out of her shoulders, Ric tapped on the door. She called to him to come in, but didn't stop her circling. "What are you doing?" Ric asked as he came in and closed the door. "Trying to make my shoulders feel a little less like re-inforced concrete." "Have you been sat there all day?" He asked as he moved over to her, the sight of her breasts rising as her arms rose, disturbing him greatly. As she lowered her arms back to their rightful position, he came and stood behind her, his hands going immediately to her shoulders. "I've been catching up on the latest batch of red tape," She said, trying to resist the urge to groan with ecstasy as his hands moved on her shoulders. "Definitely still re-inforced concrete," he said in that gravelly tone that always turned her to jelly. Then, as his arms slid round her, he said, "I'm told I do a good massage if you're interested." "Very much so," She drawled, leaning back so that her head rested against his chest. As he looked down into her upturned face, he couldn't miss the flirtatious, slightly predatory gleam in her violet eyes. Taking his hands that were resting at her waist, she moved them up to her magnificent breasts. "I wouldn't mind some of that as well if it's on offer." "And can you honestly imagine a situation when it wouldn't be?" He asked, gently cupping her breasts, his forefingers grazing her steadily hardening nipples. "Well, you didn't exactly look in the mood for it after your particularly bad week a while ago." Instantly, his hands abandoned their heavenly occupation and he moved away from her. "Ah," He said, turning to face the window. "Well, it probably would have done me a lot more good than what I actually did do." Swivelling her chair to face him, she caught hold of his hand. "What did you do?" She asked, though she thought she could probably hazard a guess. "I spent two hours at the casino." "I see," She said quietly, not entirely knowing what she could say to make him feel better. "Yeah," He said bitterly. "Stupid, pointless, and entirely pathetic." "Did I say that?" Connie asked with rising exasperation. "In fact, did I even think it?" "You should," he replied dismally. "Well, I don't," Connie insisted vehemently, getting up from her chair. "Do not try and put words into my mouth that I can promise you are not there." Turning to face her, he saw the half-stern, half-understanding expression on her face. Putting her arms up around his neck, she said, "We all come off the wagon occasionally. It's something we all try to avoid, but which does sometimes happen. What you need to do is to try to forgive yourself for doing it, though I've certainly never managed to achieve that particularly difficult piece of introspection." "I'll take your word for it," He said, his arms going round her. Their kiss was tender and gentle, both of them wanting to forget the harsh realities of life for a while, and to do nothing more taxing than give the other pleasure. When they broke apart and Connie switched off the computer and picked up her handbag, Ric said, "So, what's your particularly well-hidden vice, because I've never seen any sign of one?" "If we're still speaking in a year's time," Connie said as they moved to the door. "I'll tell you, but not before." "I'll hold you to it," he replied as she locked the door behind them and began walking towards the nurses' station.
When they arrived outside Ric's flat, he suddenly began to feel self-conscious about the meagre surroundings in which he lived. Connie hadn't seen it before, and he couldn't help but wonder what she would think. "Welcome to my extremely humble abode," He said as he led her inside. His flat was two floors up, with one large room containing a sofa, a double bed, a table with a couple of chairs and the few possessions he had managed to keep away from his creditors. It had a small kitchen and an even smaller bathroom leading off it, and much to her surprise a small balcony. "It's nice," She said, sinking gratefully down onto the comfortable sofa. "Says she with a place that could probably house at least ten medical students," Ric said as he went into the kitchen to pour them some wine. "You should see where I grew up," She told him ruefully. "Oh?" he said, opening a bottle of chilled white wine that he'd been saving for a special occasion. "Do tell," he said, returning and handing her a glass. After taking a sip, she said hesitantly, "Erm, Peckham." Ric's eyes widened in astonishment. "Are you serious?" "Perfectly," She said as she dug in her handbag for cigarettes and a lighter, having spied a clean ashtray on the coffee table. "Well, you learn something new everyday," Ric said as he sat down beside her. "And it's something I like to try and forget," She told him seriously. "Do you never go back there?" he asked, now really curious about her beginnings. "No," She replied with a shudder. "And I never will." "That Oxford accent must have taken some cultivating." "Yes, it did," She said with a smile. "As did the looks. I wasn't very attractive before I left that hell hole at eighteen." "Now that I don't believe," Said Ric as he lit himself a cigarette. "Believe what you like," She said dismissively. "It's entirely true." "You couldn't possibly say that about yourself now," he told her quietly, trying to put her at her ease. "No, I couldn't," She said, beginning to relax again much to his relief. Ric had noticed her distinct fear of discussing her early life, and it left him with a growing list of unanswered questions. But he didn't need to go into any of them tonight. Resting his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, he got up to put on some music. Connie smiled as the dulcet tones of Katie Melua permeated the air. The soft, sensual music allowed her brain to relax, leaving behind those unwelcome memories that were often far too close to the surface. Sitting back down, Ric put an arm around her, resting his face against her curly black hair as she leaned against him. "I don't really like talking about my childhood," she said quietly. "So I gathered," he said a little regretfully. "I'll know to avoid that subject in future." "We all have skeletons, Ric," She tried to explain. "I just happen to have an entire cupboard full." "You don't need to explain," he told her, wanting to take away any hint of sadness from her thoughts. Immensely touched that he was making such an effort to cheer her up, she kissed him, wanting to get back onto their former footing.
They sat there for a while doing nothing more than contentedly kissing, Connie allowing the music to wash over her and to lull her into a drowsy, relaxed frame of mind that she so badly needed. "I do believe I promised you a massage," Ric said eventually. "Mmm, I believe you did," Connie said in the low, seductive drawl that made all his senses tingle. "Then, est-ce que vous voudrez se déshabiller?" Connie smirked. "I would indeed," She said, getting to her feet. As Ric moved into the bathroom to find the massage oil, she began removing her clothes and laying them over a chair. "Who told you I could speak French?" "I think it was the subject of one of Zubin's many diatribes about you," Ric said, returning with the massage oil and finding Connie completely naked. "Good god," he said, staring at her in total amazement. "You have seen it before, you know," Connie said with a laugh. "Though the utterly gob smacked look is good on you." "You've been sunbathing on the quiet," He said, moving towards her, his eyes sweeping the entire length of her body. Not one single bikini line marred her perfect skin, her firm breasts looking like heavy, ripened peaches. "I always sunbathe in complete privacy," She told him seriously. "That's what tall hedges around one's garden are for." "Are you sure you still want the massage?" he asked, now standing directly in front of her. "Yes, I do," She said with a smirk. "So I'm afraid that you'll have to wait for the rest." Flashing him a very cheeky smile, she flipped back the duvet and lay on the bed on her stomach, proving that her tan really was all over. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he removed his own clothes, all the way down to his boxer's, which he clearly left on to restrain his almost primeval urge.
She writhed under his touch as his hands slid silkily over her shoulders, skilfully untangling the knotted muscles to make her as supple and flexible as rubber. God but his hands were fantastic, she thought as she lay there, delighting in every touch of his fingers on her beautiful skin. Neither of them spoke as he worked, allowing touch and touch alone to exchange thoughts and feelings, with the music providing a gently soporific atmosphere. Ric vowed to get to know every single inch of tanned flesh that he could see, wanting to know every little quirk of her body, to be able to interpret precisely what would give her pleasure. When his hands slid over her tanned, toned thighs, she could feel the moisture gradually building at her core, setting fire to the cauldron of lust that was bubbling away inside her. When he had even massaged her long and delicate feet, he slid his hands back up her legs and over her firm buttocks, eventually trailing them around her waist and up to her breasts.
Connie turned over as he did this, wanting what was to come even more than she had the massage. Making love with Ric was so different to the soulless couplings she used to engage in on a regular basis. He interpreted every nuance, every slight alteration of either her position or facial expression, showing that he took considerable notice of her reaction to whatever he did for her. She hadn't often encountered such a level of consideration, not in fact for an incredibly long time before Ric had come on the scene. Though that wasn't quite right, she reminded herself. John had been just as thoughtful, just as considerate, even though they had only been engaging in a most enjoyable quickie after a day in court. Well, enjoyable until George had walked in on them. But that wasn't something she needed to be thinking about right now. When she turned towards him, Ric began softly kissing her, one of his arms going round her and the other hand teasing at her nipples, using the remains of the massage oil on his hands to stimulate them further. "Do you have any idea just how wet you make me?" She asked, badly wanting his touch to progress downwards. "Oh, I'm that good, am I?" He asked with a smirk. "Oh, yes," She said between kisses. "And you really are wearing far too much," she added, gently tugging at the waistband of his boxer's. After he had removed them, and as he dipped his head to enclose a pert, pink nipple between his incredible lips, she said, "I wouldn't, I don't think the massage oil will taste nice." "Oh, shame," he said, choosing instead to forego her nipples in favour of moving down her body. At the first tentative thrust of his tongue into her entrance, Connie gasped, thinking that she would happily die like this, cocooned forever in such blissful tenderness. Ric knew that he could quite happily drown in the taste and smell of her, the richness of her skin and the sweetness of her flavour almost overwhelming him. When he deftly nibbled on the bud of her clitoris, Connie almost cried out, swiftly covering her mouth with her hand. "I want to hear every sound you make," Ric told her earnestly, gently removing her hand from her mouth. "I'm not sure your neighbours do," She said a little breathlessly. "Oh, don't worry about them," Ric told her, returning to his ministrations. When he relaxed into a highly erotic rhythm of swirling his tongue around her entrance and using his nose to massage her clitoris, Connie's breathing quickened as she tried to curtail the noise she knew she was about to make. When she came, Connie made a sound somewhere between a shout and a sob, Ric taking in as much of the surge of her sexual secretion as he could reach.
Connie lay gasping as he moved back to lie beside her, and it made him smile to see her face so utterly devoid of hardness. There were so many emotions swimming in the depths of those beautiful violet eyes, far too many for him to accurately decipher. "Don't ever lose the knack of doing that, will you," She said in that deep, husky, definitely post-orgasm voice that he found so sexy. "I will try," He replied, softly stroking the side of her right breast. "Just give me a moment to recover," she told him. "And I might just return the favour." "You take as long as you like," he said, content for the moment to lie here and watch her face.
When she eventually found the strength to move, she slid down his body like an eel, taking the head of his engorged shaft between her gloriously pouting lips. Ric groaned, closing his eyes to savour every touch of her wonderfully sensual mouth. Connie found that his size was far too substantial to take him all the way back into her throat, so she settled for using her hand on him as well. "I haven't had this for far too long," He said in total ecstasy. "I'd better make up for lost time then, hadn't I," She murmured around his flesh, using her other hand to gently fondle his testicles. But when he realised that if she continued much further, he would be entirely incapable of preventing himself from reaching orgasm, he gently detached her from him. Looking up in surprise, she said, "I don't mind taking you all the way like that, really." "Whilst that thought is almost unbearably tempting," He said, thinking that all his Christmases had come at once. "I want to be inside you." "Then your wish is my command," She replied silkily, swinging one leg over him and sinking down onto him, enclosing him in her silky depths. Immediately, he pulled her down to lie on his chest, kissing her long and hard. As they began to move in perfect synchrony, he clung to Connie, as though he was afraid that she would one day leave him. Then, keeping one arm around her, he inched his other hand between them, seeking out her hypersensitive clitoris, and stroking it to take Connie to a climax at the same time as him. When they simultaneously came, they clung ever closer, Connie internally squeezing him as he spilt his seed inside her.
As they lay afterward, loosely entwined and occasionally kissing, there was no need for either of them to speak. They were utterly relaxed and entirely content. As they gradually drifted off to sleep, Connie couldn't help but wonder if this was what real happiness was. Ric was undoubtedly her sexual equal, he took the trouble to notice every reaction to the things he did for her, and he honestly appeared to care a great deal for her. Yes, he had his faults, but so did she, so did they all. Give and take, wasn't that what it was all about? In the beginning, she had given Michael her body and her intellectual prowess, at the same time taking his money. But that wasn't the type of give and take that seemed to be emerging between her and Ric. In fact, it was wholly devoid of anything resembling money, connections or her skill in the operating theatre. Her growing relationship with Ric was made up of all the things that really mattered: mutual understanding, real sincere feelings, and the wish and ability to make the other happy. Was this what she'd been missing out on all these years?