Musical Beds (Food Of Love 2) - Page 41

“So do I.”

She treasured the rigidity of his arms and his gluteal muscles as his own release stormed through him. The rictus of near-pain on his usually composed face touched her heart and made her feel that she was, after all, doing the right thing.

She called Vanessa from the bathroom after her shower, hoping that Milan was still as sweetly asleep as he had been when she’d left him.

“Hi, Ness,” she said. “How’s the picnic?”

“You mean, how was the picnic? Delicious, and long gone, I’m afraid. Where are you?”

“I’m at Milan’s.”

Silence.

“Are you s

till with Ben?” Lydia hoped the answer was yes, hoped Vanessa’s day hadn’t been put too out of joint by her sudden flight.

“Well, since I’m not likely to have any other company…”

“I’m sorry. I had to come.”

“His Master’s Voice, eh?” The disapproving edge was impossible to ignore.

“No, he sounded so…”

“Needy?”

“No.” Yes. “I mean, he’s struggling, Ness. You know he is. I can’t stand by and watch him sink.”

“You aren’t responsible for him.”

“I know, I know, I know.” Lydia heaved a sigh.

“So, is he okay? Can you come back? We’re in All Bar One.”

“He’s okay, yeah. The thing is… I’ve kind of said I’ll move in with him.”

“You’ve said what?” Vanessa’s voice rose to a squawk and Lydia winced.

“Can we just take the lecture as read? I’ve said I’ll move in with him until the first night of the Proms, then, once that’s over, we’ll rethink.”

“He’s got you exactly where he wants you, hasn’t he?”

Lydia thought about herself, underneath Milan, impaled on his cock, her body snaking to the left then the right. Exactly where he wanted her. But that was exactly where she wanted to be.

“Ness,” she said, softly, sadly. “I don’t want to lose your friendship. And I’m so happy for you and Ben…” She let the sentence tail off, not sure if she wanted to end it.

“You mean—lots of people wouldn’t be? That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? That we’re both in relationships that might raise people’s eyebrows?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You meant it. Fuck you, Lydia. Thanks a million for your support. But Ben and I are fine—no co-dependency issues, no emotional blackmail, no head games. And that’s just the way it should be. Good luck, love. You’re going to need it.”

The line clicked and went dead. Lydia sank down onto the side of the bath and stared at the blank display screen. Was Milan worth losing Vanessa’s friendship over? He had better be, she thought grimly.

Chapter Eight

It wasn’t just the violin strings that were tense on the day of the next rehearsal. Everyone from the flautists to the double basses was abuzz with curiosity, waiting for the grand entrance of Herr Karl-Heinz von Ritter.

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