Taking the Fast Lane - Part One, Chapter One

Part One – Mainly about Nathan

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As Amelia’s legs lolled over the arm of the big, squidgy chair, she flicked idly through the last few pages of HotCeleb magazine.  There was nothing exciting in it’s pages, and quite frankly, even if there were a new story she’d have been there when it originated.

She wound her chewing gum around her finger, her tongue spiraling – a habit she’d picked up when studying for her Fine Art finals – and sucked the gum clean off her finger.  She knew He was watching her.  She made a huge stretching gesture, arching her back like an alley cat, allowing her more than ample bosom to groan against her skinny t-shirt.

“I bet you give great head.” His voice from the other side of the room, growled.

“Depends who it belongs to,” Amelia giggled, “want some?” she smiled as she chewed her gum, wide-mouthed.  He stood up, unzipped His fly and dropped His trousers. Commando again – Amelia thought – how predictable.

She licked her lips whilst assessing His groin and toned thighs – she could see His taught, shapely buttocks in the mirror behind Him, but that was a view she’d seen a thousand times from so many different angles.   As He thrust His hips towards her, she cast her eyes up to His face, ever the sultry seductress.

“I just need to file this ragged nail first.  I’d hate to catch it on your foreskin.”

*

Amelia retched a dry-mouthed gag.  Sitting bolt upright from her bed she rubbed her eyes, her head. “Not again. Fucking hell. Not again.” She sighed and flopped back into her pillows. Squinting at the time reflected on the ceiling – 05:32 – she belched loudly. “Too much wine.  Too much cheese fondue.” 

As soon as her eyes started to slowly close, she felt a vibration. Eyes flicking open again, she caught sight of a light flashing.  She groaned. Her hand reached out to the bedside table and grabbed hold of her mobile phone.  Just as she thought.

In the darkness, the screen flashed urgently, “Nathan Mobile”, as it vibrated in her hand.  She pushed herself up onto her elbow and screwed up her face at the phone, “Oh fuck off, you tit.”  She cleared her throat.

“Hi Nath.  Everything ok?” The sound of coughing at the other end of the phone.  Amelia switched on her bedside light and the light invaded her pupils.

“Shit.” she muttered.

“That’s no way to talk.” grumbled Nathan’s voice on the other end.

Amelia fought with the duvet. “I wasn’t talking to you.” she mumbled.

“Oh, right. Got someone there?” Nathan mused, his tapping finger echoing on the handset.

”What?  No!  Christ, Nathan, it’s 05:35 on Monday morning – what the hell is wrong?” Amelia wasn’t much in the mood for games.

“Well, if you don’t want your job…”

“Oh, don’t fucking start that again…” Amelia snapped. 

Silence from the other end.  She bit her lip.  

“Nathan? Nathan, are you still there?” Amelia sat upright, chewing her at her nail.  She winced from the pain of her reckless language. “Look, I’m really sorry - I didn’t mean to sound…”she blurted.

“Sorry for disturbing you, Amy.” Three beeps as the call ended. 

“Shit. Shit.” Amelia spat as she swung her legs out of bed.  This is all she had needed.  With gliding fingers, she deftly redialled Nathan’s number. Straight to voicemail.

She stood up and started to pace her bedroom.  Redial.  Voicemail. “Oh, pick up, you cock.” she hissed.  Redial.  Voicemail.

As she mimicked her recorded intonation, her very own voice told her that Nathan McInnes was not available to take her call.  Taking a deep breath, she waited for the beep.  “Nathan.  It’s Amelia.  I am really, really sorry for what I just said.  I was half asleep when you called and I didn’t know what I was saying.  Um, please just call me back – ok?  I am really sorry.  It was very rude of me. Ok then.  Bye.”

She threw the phone on her dishevelled bed and thumped her arse down onto the mattress.  “Fuckity fuck fuck.”

As she held her head in her hands, she stared at her designer-strewn floor.  Viv Northwood trousers fought Shannel dresses for floor space next to a pile of Ten For All Womankind jeans.  Three confused pairs of killer-heeled Manobo’s were jumbled in a pile next to a pair of red lace French knickers, also discarded on the floor.  She picked the knickers up between two toes and screwed up her nose as she waved them on her foot.

 “Yak.”

The bed vibrated and Amelia span round.  Snatching up her phone in a sleek manoeuvre, she took a deep breath before answering.

“Hi Nathan. Thanks for calling back. I really am very…” Nathan’s coughing interrupted her flow. 

“I need you to pick me up, Amy. “ his voice gravelly on the other end.

“Now?” her eyes flicking to the clock – 05:45. “Why what’s happened? Where are you? You mean now? Like - this minute?”

“Yes! Now!  Less questions, babe, less questions. Just pick me up at the address I text you – ok? I don’t want to say it on the phone in case I’m being tapped.”

Amelia sniggered. “Oh my.  Nathan, what - or who - have you been up tonight?”

“Just pick me up, alright?  And wear the red knickers I gave you for your last Birthday.”

Amelia looked at the red knickers lying on the floor. She hesitated. “The what?  Why?  They’re in the wash.”

“Well, unless you got very dirty in them today, just put them back on.” Nathan laughed as Amelia gasped. “Don’t worry I wasn’t spying – I could see the line of them when you bent over to pick up my bag earlier.”

Amelia was nauseated by his admission. “Nathan - I’m not one of your little conquests…you’re off your face, aren’t you?”

“See you in ten.”  Three beeps and he was gone.

Amelia stared at her phone.  A text message pinged.  Some random address in St John’s Wood and a statement concerning the knickers.  She shivered with repulsion. She hated it when he was this far-gone.

Scraping her thick brown waves into a ponytail, she then bent to pick up a pair of jeans and a pretty bra.  She stopped and looked at the red knickers, kicked them across the room, then paused.  Stomping back over to the red lacy heap she swooped down and grasped them.

“Tosspot.” she snapped.