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  As we exit the kitchen, Charlotte’s eyes roll to mine and then Michael’s and she jerks her head back towards the kitchen. We both grin.

  Enough said....

  In her room, the door clicking closed behind us, I can wrap my arms around her, hold her close. My mouth on hers, my blood sings and my cock begins to twitch....

  Show a bit of restraint man....

  I pull away before my body runs out of control, but I keep my arm around her waist, not wanting to surrender the contact.

  “We’ve missed you.”

  She looks between the two of us. “I’ve missed you too. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I’d have at least made sure I had some chairs for you to sit on.”

  “We thought you would enjoy a surprise visit.”

  She scuttles around the small room. It neatly kept and clean, but the space is very limited; basic student accommodation with room to study and sleep but not much more. Michael perches on the end of a narrow bed....

  .... That’s no fuckin’ good for us....

  .... while Charlotte insists on giving me the single chair from under the desk.

  She has a kettle and coffee but only one mug. “Back in a minute,” she mutters, seeming embarrassed.

  “She’s not exactly living in luxury, is she?” comments Michael.

  “It serves her purpose.”

  But he’s right. Basic furniture, everything is painted institutional off-white, with not even a poster on the wall. The room is thoroughly impersonal. Shelves are stacked with files and folders, assignments, reports and project work.

  .... A space to function in...

  .... No more...

  The only thing in over-supply in the tiny room is books. I scan her collection. As well as the textbooks related to her engineering course, there is Tolkien’s ‘Lord of the Rings’ (well-thumbed), various ‘Golden Age’ science fiction books; Asimov, Heinlein, Clarke....

  .... wonder where she acquired the taste for that stuff...?

  .... her copy of ‘The Thousand and One Nights’, given to her by Michael.... He smiles as I pull it out to show to him....

  He’s looking a lot happier....

  There is a file open on her desk, thick with content and open on some current item, half-written by the look of things. Casting a quick glance back at the door - I don’t want her to think I’m snooping on her....

  Alright, I am snooping on her....

  .... I flick back through earlier work....

  .... 87/100....

  .... 48/50....

  .... 8/10.... Comment: ‘Next time include the calculations - I can’t mark numbers without evidence of the working....’

  “How’s she doing?” asks Michael. “Alright?”

  “Better than alright. She’s working things out in her head that most would do on paper.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “It’s good so long as the tutors know that’s what she’s doing....”

  There are footsteps outside the door and hastily I lay her folder open at the last page again. The door opens to produce Charlotte bearing two chipped mugs.

  Sipping coffee, Michael comments “Snug. You might swing a cat in here, but it would have to be a small cat.”

  She shrugs. “It’s fine. I only use it for working and sleeping. The kitchens and bathrooms are shared.”

  He presses his lips at that and I suppress a smile....

  .... and now you know she’s not playing away from home, you’re not happy she isn’t doing other things....

  .... You don’t get it all ways, my friend....

  But I keep my face straight...

  Somewhere above us, music starts to play; a heavy metal track, AC DC, Black Sabbath or something of that sort. It grows quickly louder, then someone turns up the base and the vibe rattles through the room. Charlotte rolls her eyes, looking irritated....

  Does she get that all the time?

  .... probably....

  It hasn’t occurred to me before to wonder what kind of music she likes, but now I think about it, she usually seems to enjoy my own choices of light classical.

  “.... The Ace of Spades... The Ace of Spades....” It thumps through the plaster and makes the window rattle.

  “Never did like Motörhead much,” mutters Michael.

  It’s a bit busy around here, isn’t it?” I say. “How about we go out somewhere? A restaurant perhaps? That is, if you’ve not yet eaten, Charlotte....?.”

  She smiles, “No, I’ve not eaten. And yes, I’d love to go out with you both. It’s been so long....”

  Tell me about it....

  “.... I know it’s only been a few weeks, but it feels like forever.”

  “And if we’re not interrupting anything important.” I point to the open folder. “We did choose Friday night, hoping you would be free?”

  She shakes her head vigorously. “Oh, no. That’s fine. I have until Wednesday to hand that work in.”

  “You’re not going out anywhere with the other students?”

  “No, I don’t really go out. I’m here to work.”

  Only here to work?

  .... Don’t you have any friends, Jade-Eyes?

  Then I think of Marie upstairs....

  Mmmm....

  Michael doesn’t look any happier.

  I think we can put a smile on your face, Jade....

  I take her hand, kiss the fingers. “Good, and later, a hotel room perhaps? We thought you might like to celebrate your new home?”

  “I’d love that, but, er...” she flushes,” but I don’t have anything really to wear for going out in. I only brought jeans and tee shirts and everyday sorts of clothes.”

  We thought of that....

  “That’s alright,” I say. “We brought some of your other clothes along. They’re in the car. And um....”

  First things first....

  “.... perhaps you should have a shower first? You smell of machine oil.”

  She chuckles, plucking at her tee-shirt and wrinkling her nose. “Yes, at college today, they were showing us how to use a lathe and a milling machine.”

  Michael raises brows, underwhelmed. “Is that what you’ll be expected to do when you’re working properly? In an actual job?”

  “No,” she shrugs, “but you’re expected to have some idea of how a machine shop and a tool shop works....”

  Of course you are....

  .... I’ll see you get all that....

  “.... and that means I come out smelling of machine oil....”

  Michael still looks sceptical. “James is right. You need a shower. Why don’t you get cleaned up and changed, and we’ll wait upstairs? It’s a bit crowded in here....”

  Charlotte pauses, mouth slightly open, brow furrowing.

  “Don’t worry,” he continues, his voice toneless, “I’m sure James will keep me out of Marie’s clutches.”

  She laughs, a hand to her mouth. “Actually, I think she’s expecting her boyfriend, Pete, along this evening.”

  Marie has a boyfriend?

  .... A braver man than I....

  “Another student?”

  “Yes, he’s on the Aeronautical Engineering course.”

  *****

  Upstairs we find that ‘Pete’ has already arrived, along with some other of the house shares, and is making coffee.

  “This is James and Michael,” says Marie. “Um....” She points to the newcomers in turn. “Kylie, Sandra, Caroline, Brett and Ian.” Then, “Michael is Charlotte’s boyfriend.”

  “Fiancé,” he corrects.

  Pete nods with a ‘one man to another’ kind of look. then nods again towards a couple of mugs, brows raised.

  Michael gives him a thumbs-up.

  Michael’s kind of man.... no more words than needed....

  .... doubtless, Marie does most of the talking....

  “Not for me,” I say. “I’m coffee’d out.”

  “Tea?”

  “Tea would be good. Thanks.”


  A couple more girls arrive. “Who’s turn is it to cook tonight?” asks one.

  “Mine,” says Marie.

  The girls look at each other behind her back. One makes a face.

  Marie takes a chicken from the fridge and sits at the table, doing something unspeakable to it with a knife.

  What the fuck’s she trying to do?

  I lean back, trying to be discreet about it. The way she's handling that knife, someone's going to lose something and I'd rather it not be me. From the corner of an eye, I notice Michael, on the seat beside me, also sitting well away.

  Pete stands over her coffee in hand, inspecting the unfortunate bird. “Marie, what are you doing?”

  “What does it look like? I’m taking the breasts off this chicken.”

  She’s trying to cut across the breastbone...

  He takes a gulp, then, “Is that what you’re doing? Whatever that chicken did during life, it doesn't deserve what it's getting now it's dead.”

  She pouts. “You think you can do better?” She waves the knife at him in a careless gesture and he steps hastily back.

  “Tell you what, Marie. You’ve already had a long day. Why don’t you let me do that?” He reaches for the knife handle and peels her fingers away. What were you making?”

  “Chicken curry.”

  “Great. Get yourself a coffee. Chat with Charlotte’s guests ‘til she gets up here....”

  .... Gee.... Thanks....

  Michael paints on a polite-to-non-committal expression while Marie blasts him with her doubtful charms.

  Pete angles the knife to slice downwards, parallel to the breastbone, neatly skimming bone and cartilage and thirty seconds later has two perfectly presented breasts on a plate which he proceeds to slice into inch cubes. A minute after that and he’s working through cupboards looking for something.

  “Watcha want?” asks Marie.

  “Spices.”

  “Curry powder’s in there,” she points.

  He gives her an old look, opens the cupboard and after a moment pulls out various jars and packets. Another minute or so later and the scent of hot butter, cardamom and turmeric sizzle through the kitchen. Two minutes more and the chicken cubes join the sizzle.

  “See,” calls Pete, “This is how it’s done.”

  Marie stands reluctantly to go inspect the pan.

  Michael leans across to me murmuring. “Doesn't seem like university material, does she? Do you know what course she’s on?”

  He’s not quiet enough. Kylie, close by, rolls her eyes, then equally quietly says, “She only got in by the skin of her teeth and she'll be out on the seat of her ass if she doesn't start doing some work. Not like your Charlotte.”

  “No?”

  “No, we barely see her. She comes out for meals and coffee then vanishes back into her cave until it’s time for lectures.”

  “She doesn’t go out with the rest of you? Dancing? Cinema?”

  “Never has with me.” She glances at Sandra, who shrugs, shaking her head. “She’s a bit of a hermit, really.”

  There’s a movement by the door. It’s Charlotte, wearing the classic ‘little black dress’ that Michael picked out for her, high heels....

  .... She’s teetering a bit...

  .... and beautifully made-up. Her eyes are dark, her lips a shade of red to compliment her hair and her cheeks have just enough blusher to bring a little colour to her pale, beautiful face.

  Pete has his back to her, but as a hush falls across the room, glances around to see....

  .... then spins, wooden spatula in hand, staring. “Bloody hell, Charlotte. I didn’t realise you had legs under your jeans, let alone legs like that.”

  Then flushing, he turns to Michael. “Um, sorry. Didn’t mean... Not used to seeing her like that. Usually, she’s just one of the boys....”

  Michael beams. “Is that right? You’ve seen a side of her that I’ve missed then.”

  *****

  On our way down to the car, Charlotte leans on Michael’s arm rather more than I would have expected.

  She’s been living in sneakers all these weeks? No high heels?

  .... She’s not been going out at all?

  All work and no play....

  .... makes Jane a dull girl....

  I’ll give you play, Green-Eyes....

  Michael helps her into the car, closing the door behind her. “Where are we staying?”

  “The Empire.”

  “Bit on the pricey side isn’t it?” he mutters. “I’m not exactly flush with cash right now.”

  “It’s a Haswell Hotel. Won’t cost us a bean.”

  “Ah....” He absorbs that. “Hadn’t thought of that side of director’s privileges.”

  “He works my ass off. We might as well take the benefits.”

  We have the penthouse. It’s not a coincidence or luck. The Haswell Corporation owns three hotels in this town and I made sure we came to the one with the best room available.

  If we’re rationed for each other’s company for the next few years, let’s make the most of it....

  Michael takes the room in his stride. “Shall we eat in the restaurant? Or use room service and have it in privacy?”

  “Oh, I think I’d like us to eat in our room,” says Charlotte. She’s bubbly and bouncy and as Michael swings his blue-eyed gaze on her, I see that connection the two of them have.

  Perfect!

  “How long have we got the room?” he murmurs out of the side of his mouth.

  “All weekend if we want it.”

  “Great.” His eyes travel Charlotte. “Wonder how game she is?”

  “We’ll find out. Let’s eat first.”

  “Good idea. I’ll fill that jacuzzi.”

  Steak and salad, strawberries and champagne, a soak in warm bubbling water, all set the mood. But mostly, being together works its magic until, food and drink done, all of us relaxed and ready, I stand behind my red-haired mermaid, my hands resting on her hips, Michael to her fore, brushing his lips over hers....

  We each take her by the hand, leading her to the bedroom.

  *****

  This is the three of us, for the first time in weeks, together again. Charlotte stands between us, her expression a little glazed, lips parted. I reel her in tight at the waist, fasten my mouth over hers. She smells sweet and tastes better, a quiver running through her as we kiss.

  Michael, now behind her, strokes her shoulders, her hair, then pushes her scented tresses to one side. There is the slight clicking of her dress zipper. As he slides it down, the dress falls open and to the floor.

  Her perfume is more powerful now, partly some expensive fragrance I think, but mainly it's her, the scent of her skin, her arousal. Michael mouths at her, over the curve of her neck, at the delicate skin behind the ear to the hairline. Her face swings up and back, and she warbles her song as she reaches for him with her mouth.

  Unusually for her, Charlotte was wearing no bra and now stands only in her panties. I slide down her body, her breasts swinging full and loose by my mouth as I descend. Taking a moment to suckle on a nipple, I thumb at the other, both pebbling to stiff nubs under my touch. She tastes a little salty, beginning to perspire, her skin moist and warm against my face.

  I drop further, hooking thumbs into her panties to take them down with me. As I nuzzle into her glossy red curls, she steps out of them then staggers a little as I push her ankles further apart. I don’t worry. Michael will be expecting it, supporting her in case she loses her balance.

  So close now to her sex, her perfume is strong and pungent, and my cock stiffens as I inhale her, then scissor through her pussy lips with a couple of fingers to taste her.

  She’s arousing beautifully, warm and wet, her honey coating my tongue as I lap into her. Glancing upwards, Michael is watching me, waiting for my signal, eye-pointing the bed.

  I rise, gliding my hands over her contours as I do so, feeling the tremble and quiver of her flesh under my finger
s. My hands around her waist again, I yank at her, pulling her off-balance. As her emerald eyes widen in surprise, I pull her with me, turning us together, to sit on the edge of the bed with her cradled back in my arms, her spine pressed against my chest.

  She’s panting now, her breathing rapid and shallow. Hooking my feet between hers, I force her legs apart and Michael drops to kneel between her opened thighs, his nostrils flaring as he draws close to her.

  He tests her. A couple of fingers in her pussy, he finger-fucks her briefly, watching her face as he does so, half a smile playing across his lips, his teeth showing a little. Arching back against me, her hair pushes against my face and I watch her side-on, her breath hissing through bared teeth and peeled-back lips. It’s a cock-teaser of a noise and my swelling shaft begins to feel squeezed.

  I’d say Michael feels the same way. The front of his pants is taut and that smile of his is broadening as he drops his mouth over her clit. His tongue winds around her bud, spiralling close. The sound of his licking tightens my pants even more, and then again as she mewls and shivers.

  Her nipples are pale rose against the porcelain of her skin, hard and erect, standing clear of the breast, invitingly so. Taking one between thumb and forefinger, I roll and tweak, watching her hips buck as I pinch harder. She almost jerks free, but I tighten my grip on her, restraining her more firmly

  Michael moves in deeper, stretching her open with a hand either side, then swiping in with his tongue. Her mewling grows louder, her body beginning to quake against mine.

  He delves in deeper, probing with his tongue, his face pressed against her sex. Then he draws long slow strokes the full length of her, from her pussy, through her swollen folds and over her clit....

  .... and she howls....

  His eyes roll up to meet mine; a brief warning of what’s coming. As he stands, I push Charlotte up to him, then move to kneel upright on the bed. He catches her neatly, picks her up and places her back down again on the bed, also on her knees, her beautiful naked body pressed back against mine....

  .... against my groin....

  Fuck....

  My shaft is straining....

  I’ve got to get these pants off soon....

  I pull her arms behind her, locking them at the elbows. Knotting my spare hand into her hair, I arch her backwards, then pushing my knees between hers, splay her. I hold her, but not too tightly yet, just enough to let her know who’s in charge.