Shameless [Nathan Lloyd]

"So you snooped on her phone?" I said. "Sounds like you have a healthy relationship. I don't know what went wrong."

He glared at me. "With your hair and your ripped body and your pretty face—you'll never be lonely. But what if you weren't handsome? What if you were ordinary looking? What would you do then?"

I took offence at that. "What do you mean, 'what would I do'?"

He looked around the dilapidated house. "I mean, I'm not judging you or anything, but if this is the best you can do, I have at least one thing going for me that you don't."

He was starting to annoy me now.

"So, your purchased wife is cheating on you," I said. "With someone less than half your age."

"I'm forty-three."

Oh, wow, life really had been unkind.

"About half your age, then. What are you going to do about it? Because, I'm telling you buddy, you're not kicking my ass any time soon."

He stared down glumly at his chubby hands. "Nothing I can do, I suppose."

"Have you considered talking to her?"

He laughed through his nose. "Yeah. Right." He gave me a despondent look. "Well. Now you know." He got to his feet and I stood with him. "So you won't see her again? Will you?"

I held out my hands. "Mate, you need to sort your marriage out. If she calls me, I'll ask her straight up, is she still married. If she says yes, I'll say no. If she says no, I'll say yes. Repair it, or lose it."

My answer left him simmering, but he knew he couldn't do much about it. He stepped back onto the porch and I looked past him and saw his car. He owned an Audi R8. This fat little bastard owned an Audi R8.

He glanced at my Honda, sponsored by work, and I saw his lips twitch in a smile. He could get girls with that car if he wanted to. I knew, because I met girls with the depth of a saucer of milk all the time. And he was right—if I wasn't really, really, ridiculously good-looking, they wouldn't be fucking me.

As he drove away, I closed the door and sat back on the steps. Was I really nothing more than a handsome face and great hair?

Ash wandered out of the lounge and stood leaning in the doorway.

"That sounded like fun. I didn't realise you were a home wrecker as well as a chauvinist."

I looked up at her. "Do you like me, Ash?"

She did a double-take at my serious tone.

"Do you like me? Who I am?"

She shrugged. "Do you really care?"

I made a noise of frustration and got up and headed upstairs. I went into my room and slammed the door, the memory of Stella standing next to the Milky Bar Kid, and fatty's Audi R8, lodged in my mind.

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Chapter 7

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had a concept of what cleaning a pool involved. It turned out my concept was the stock-photo equivalent of the real thing.

The drain clogged with all the plant matter and sediment still left, meaning there was a foot of manky, green, stinking water left to bail out with a bucket.

I got in there with a shovel and dumped the crap into buckets and dumped the buckets onto the lawn.

Then I got a broom and started to scrub the sides.

At its deepest point, the pool was a foot taller than I was. At the shallow end were a couple of steps that provided easy access, dropping away to less than a metre deep.

It took half the day to unclog the drain and get rid of the last of the water. I sat back at the side of the empty pool and sipped a beer as I looked over the fruits of my labour. Ash was right, it was going to be nice when it was filled. Palm trees grew around the outside of the paved, fenced area, which gave it a tropical feel. And also provided all the greenery I'd just shovelled out as silt.

* * * * *

I was dozing by the near-full pool when Ash finally appeared.

"Hey, hey, nice work!" She sauntered out in cutoffs and a purple singlet top, with Stefan's old shirt draped over the top, carrying a couple of beers.

She handed a beer to me.

"Thanks."

She dropped down beside me and rolled her leg sideways into mine.

"Was anything alive down there?"

"Nope."

"Was anything dead down there?"

"I found part of a rat. I think. There were teeth."

She held up her beer and clinked it with mine. "To summer."

"To summer."

I glanced sideways at her. "Have you finished your painting?"

She shook her head. "Sprayed the mould cleaner, cleaned it off again. I put on the first coat of paint. Needs a day to dry.

I shook my head. "Seems like a lot of effort for a place you don't own."

"I like things to be nice." She wiggled her bare toes. Her toenails were painted with iridescent polish that caught the sunlight. She glanced up at me. "Do you want to talk about last night?"

"About what?"

"About your sudden crisis of confidence."

I sipped my beer. "Not really."

She picked at a flake of dried paint on her shirt. "I don't mind, if you want to talk."

I took another sip of beer and said nothing.

"Seriously, Nate, what's going on? You've been weird since we moved into this house."

I glanced at her. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face, loose strands coiling around her face and trickling down her neck like dark water.

"What about you? I haven't seen you on the console since you moved in."

She shrugged. "Who would I play with?"

"Me?"

She laughed. "You're not Ty."

I turned towards her. "What does that mean?"

She shrugged. "Playing with Ty is fun. Playing with both of you is. But when it's just you, I don't know. You get so competitive. It's not fun anymore."

I scoffed at her. "It's not me who's competitive."

She gave me a look of amazement. "You're kidding, right? You hate it when I win."

"Because you'd do anything to win. Including cheat."

She shook her head, incredulous. "Jesus, pot-kettle much?"

I shook my head and concentrated on my beer.

My eyes slid sideways as she leaned back, the shirt falling away from her shoulders. I was pretty sure she wasn't wearing a bra under her singlet top.

"Nate, why do you do it?"

I rolled my eyes, annoyed. "Do what?"

"Fuck everyone." I started to get up, but she pulled me back. "Okay, I'm sorry. But... why can't you have a girlfriend like normal people?"

I shook my head.

"Nate? You want to know if I like you? I don't even know you. I don't think you know yourself."

"Sorry, did you study psychology before or after you worked for the extinct recycling company?"

I got up and brushed off my jeans.

Something rustled in the bushes on the other side of the pool. A trickle of sweat ran down the middle of my spine. I was sure I could see a person crouched in the bushes.

"What?" Ash rose and stood beside me. Her perfume swam around me as strong as petrol fumes. I couldn't breathe.

"Nate, what?"

She caught my hand and whatever was in the bushes moved back and melted out of site.

I took in a gasping breath, my chest heaving.

"Nate! What? You're scaring me!"

"Didn't you see that?"

She looked back at the bushes. "There's nothing there."

I swallowed hard.

"Breathe," she said. She stood in front of me and put her hands on my chest. "Nate? Look at me."

I pulled my gaze away from the bushes.

"What's going on with you?"

I didn't know. I really, honestly didn't know.

"Look, I'll show you there's nothing there." Before I could stop her, she ran along the edge of the pool and pushed her way into the bushes.

She stood among the flax bushes and looked back at me. "See?"

She screamed and fell back into the garden.

"Ash!" I ran towards her and she got back to her feet, laughing.

"You fucking... bitch!" I pulled her out of the garden and tripped on the edge of the pool and lost my balance.

She screamed as both of us tipped into the pool.

She flailed against me and I turned her onto her back and dragged her to the edge of the pool. I pulled myself up onto the steps, then pulled her up backwards, my arms around her waist, sitting her between my legs.

I put my mouth next to her ear. "Never do that again."

I shook her by her shoulders, then shifted back and got up. I pulled off my wet t-shirt and she turned to watch me as I wrung it out.

"It was just a joke. What's wrong with you?"

I looked down at the bunched t-shirt in my hands. What was wrong with me? Good question. "I think someone's been sneaking around the house."

She gave me a puzzled look.

"The other night after Stella left, I turned around and saw someone on the stairs. I thought it was you. But it wasn't."

Her pupils grew a fraction and her breathing changed. "Nate, you'd better not be bullshitting me."

"And then I heard someone outside. They tried to get in."

"Did you see them?"

I look a deep breath. "I don't think there was anyone to see."

She got to her feet and shrugged off Dylan's shirt, leaving her shoulders bare and glistening in the sun.

"So... you think it's haunted then?"

I shrugged.

She gave a strained laugh. "You know, if you really think something's here, I'm not sure I want to stay."

I felt a twinge in my gut, and tried to figure out what it meant. I realised I didn't want to leave the house. Even if someone was stalking us.

"Yeah, well, there's no such things as ghosts, so... just make sure you lock the doors. And let me know if you see anything, okay?"

She nodded. "Don't stress, Nate. I'm sure it's nothing."

I picked up what was left of our beers and headed back into the house.

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Chapter 8

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I sat in the lounge and tried to play a game, but I couldn't concentrate. I went up to my room and lay on my bed, flicking through Facebook.

A message came through from Stella. 'What did you say to Paul??'

Fuck.

I stared at the message for a good ten minutes. Should I tell her what he'd said about buying her off a website? Probably not. But truth be told, I was a little annoyed she hadn't told me she had a husband.

'You never told me you were married,' I typed back.

There was a pause, then; 'He's furious. Said he knows we've been seeing each other for ages and that you're in love with me'.

Now, as stunning as Stella was, her English had never been that great. I got a strong feeling I wasn't speaking to her.

'In love? What gave him that impression?'

Dots appeared as she typed a message back.

'He found my phone, and the pics. And then some other stuff. On the computer. You know, the emails? About me leaving him?'

Now I knewI wasn't speaking to Stella. We'd never emailed. No one emailed much anymore unless they had to. Except maybe old people. Like her husband.

'Uh, what emails? I don't even have an address for you. And you know I'm not in love with you, right?'

I gave it a second, letting him absorb that, then settled down to have some fun. I carried on typing before he could answer.

'I mean, you're the best fuck I've ever had, don't get me wrong. The things you do in bed... they're golden. You're gorgeous, from your mouth to your ass. Jesus, if you do even half the things you do to me to Paul, then he's a lucky guy.'

I waited as dots bounced their way across my screen.

'You're not in love with me?'

'Uh... no. What would make you think I was?'

More dots.

'You're a much better fit for me than Paul. I mean, he had to buy me. You just have to flick your fingers and I come running.'

Okay, this guy's insecurity was starting to piss me off.

'Stella, we both know you flick your fingers and I start cumming. You know the effect you have on me. I've been so lucky to have been with you, even if it was only a couple of times. But your husband loves you. Isn't that why you came to this country?'

Dots and more dots.

I knew he had to be processing my 'only a couple of times' comment. I might still be able to salvage his marriage, if he could get his shit together and talk to her about it.

'I suppose. I mean, I love our son. And Paul's a good husband.'

'Plus, he has that Audi,'I shot back. I couldn't help myself. 'He makes more than I'll ever make. You don't want a guy like me. I'm all abs and hair and smouldering eyes. lol.'

I never, ever typed 'lol'. Ever. But fuck him. Fuck his chubby, Audi-owning, wife-purchasing ass.

Dots winked at me. This one took a while.

'Do you want to see me again?'

He had to have typed and deleted a few messages in that time.

'No, Paul, I want you to stop snooping on your wife and talk to her. You don't fix a broken marriage by doing this stupid shit. You have a kid together. And I'm not kidding, you have more to offer than I do. So stop being such a fucking moron and talk to your wife.'

There was a long pause, before the dots danced across the screen again.

'Fuck you.'

'Right back at ya.'

I lay back on the bed and put the phone beside me. Sunday night. There were two girls I'd been seeing in recent times who wouldn't mind a Sunday night booty call, but neither of them would be able to come to me. I could go to theirs, but as it got darker, the idea of leaving Ash alone in the house became less and less appealing. Even though she hadn't seen or heard the things I had, it didn't mean whatever it was wouldn't come after her if I wasn't there.

You're kidding right? There is nothing in this house!

But the rational part of my brain that couldn't comprehend my thinking on this, also couldn't explain what I'd seen.

Could be schizophrenia.

Thanks, brain. You cheered me right up.

I texted Ash. 'What are you doing?'

Her text came back almost instantly. 'Why, your usual lays let you down?'

Ouch. Harsh. But fair.

'Want to watch a movie?'

'Sure. Give me twenty and I'll meet you downstairs.'

I threw the phone onto the bed again, my thoughts straying back to Stella. Part of me wanted to get in touch with her and make sure she was okay. I assumed she'd left herself logged into Facebook on some computer or device he had access to. She might not even know he knew. He wasn't likely to be violent, was he? I didn't honestly think so.

I felt a little sad, thinking I'd never have her hands on me again. No one had ever mastered me like she had. She just knewwhat I needed. Her hands, her bright red nails. Her mouth. Her ass.

I made a strangled sound and got off the bed. If I was going to masturbate, I needed to empty my bladder first.

I walked down the hall and used the bathroom. On the way back, I heard noises from Ash's room.

I stopped, knowing I was snooping, but also with one hand resting on my crotch.

She moaned.

Yep, as I'd thought. The pervert in me really, really wanted to see this show. I got down on my hands and knees and tried to look under the door.

All I could see was carpet, but a faint waft of her perfume reached me over the smell of fresh paint.

"Nate?"

I got to my feet as silently as possible and headed down to my room, easing the door closed behind me.

Why the hell didn't she have a boyfriend? She was clearly hot for it, and I could see plenty of guys going for her. She was bold, curved in all the right places. Fun to be around, if she liked you.

I lay back on the bed and stripped off my jeans.

As I stroked my cock, it occurred to me that other people might not know the same Ash that Ty and I did. No friends had helped her move in. I hadn't heard her on the phone to anyone either. No one had called in to see her new place.

Could it be that eighteen-year-old Ash had as few friends as she'd had at school?

I guessed that made sense, since she'd only just left school, and hadn't been out in the world long enough to meet new people yet. Working at the car yard wasn't going to help her in that regard either.

Which made me...

One of two friends she has in the world.

I stopped, my cock resting in my hand, as the full impact of that hit me. She had Stefan and Dylan. And she had us. And that was it.

I had friends, although most of the guys were more drinking buddies than anything else. We went snowboarding in winter, kayaking in summer, road trips when we all had the cash. If I didn't want to be alone, I didn't have to be.

And she just has you.

I checked my phone. I had five minutes left to get this done.

I let my mind drift back to Stella, but found Asha's face swimming into my mind instead.

I closed my eyes and gave in.

Ash stood in front of me, her brilliant blue eyes outlined with dusty eye shadow. Her long hair was loosely tied so that it fell over one shoulder. She was wearing Stella's red dress, only on Ash, it fit differently.

Stella was tall and slim. She had nice tits, but narrow hips.

But Ash... Ash was all curves. Shorter, her hips were well rounded, while her waist curved inward under a rack that strained to be released from its fabric prison.

Her lips were plump and coated with gloss so that they glistened. Her chest heaved as she breathed out, filling the dress to the point where her breasts were barely contained.

She crawled over the top of me and lowered her mouth to kiss me. Her lips were slick with gloss as her tongue slid against mine.

I beat myself furiously as imaginary Ash hand-walked her way down my body, before lowering her mouth over the end of my cock. Her eyes met mine, those lips stretched around my—

Ash bashed on the bedroom door, and red-dress Ash vanished.

"What?!"

"Are you coming?"

"I'm fucking trying to," I muttered, hopefully too low for her to hear.

"Hurry up!"

She walked off down the hall, and I could just imagine the satisfied sway of her ass in her tight jeans.

I tried to pull back the vision, but sexy Ash wasn't complying. She sat up, her cleavage spilling out of her dress, and regarded me with cool eyes.

You want me, but you won't tell me. What are you afraid of, Nate? Afraid you'll get rejected again?

Yeah, once was enough for this lifetime. I did sure things. I did game. And right now, I didn't know what Ash's game was.

Just the thought of her turning me down made my cock shrivel. I looked down at my fading erection and knew it wasn't going to happen.

With a heavy sigh, I got up and dressed, then joined Ash downstairs.

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Chapter 9

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By the time I got downstairs, the sun had gone down, and the ranch slider had turned into a black mirror of the lounge. I pulled the curtains, unnerved by the thought of all that dark, empty, invisible land outside.

"When's Ty back from up North?" asked Ash. She was in the kitchen pouring popcorn into a bowl.

"Wednesday, I think," I said. I threw myself down on the couch. "Bring me a beer would ya?"

I heard the fridge open, and a moment later, something flew at me.

I ducked, and the unopened beer landed beside me on the couch.

"Jesus!" I picked it up. It was an empty bottle with the cap pushed back on.

Ash snickered at how hilarious she was. She walked into the lounge and handed me a beer coated with condensation, then sat in a big armchair, the popcorn in her lap.

"You could have hit me!"

"Pffft." She tossed a bottle opener to me. "Your muscular arms would have deflected it."

She gave me a look from under her eyebrows, mocking me.

I put the empty bottle on the coffee table and levered the lid off the cold one with the bottle opener.

She put her feet up on the table and crossed her ankles. "Your hair's getting really long. You look like something off the cover of a shitty romance novel."

"I could tie it into a man bun if you like."

She shook her head. "No. I mean, it suits you. It's just, if you want guys like that lady's wife to not want to punch you in the face, getting a haircut would help."

I took a swig of beer. "I don't think my hair was what enraged him."

"How many times did you pork his wife?"

I swung my head to look at her, unimpressed with the accusation in her voice. "You know I didn't do that on purpose."