Sexy Beast by Georgia le Carre Read Free Book Online Page B

hand.
    ‘Does it hurt?’ I ask.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘I’m buzzing.’
    I flick open the lighter and hold the flame up to him. My hand is shaking. His other hand comes up to cup the flame. In the intimate glow, I see the heat rise from his skin like steam. And I smell the sweat and the trace of endorphins and adrenaline radiating from it. Our eyes meet again and we stare at each other. Yes, I am shocked, and yes, I am shaken, but there is something else struggling to show its face. He inhales, the cigarette burns orange, and I kill the flame with a click.
    I turn away, dropping the lighter back into the packet. I return my forefinger and middle finger back on either side of my cigarette and inhale a lungful of warm smoke. It makes me feel light-headed. I exhale it out slowly and put my hand down to the side of my body. There is a foot between us, and an unmistakable element of danger. Like being on one of those roller coasters that inverts you. You are scared to death and unbelievably excited at the same time.
    I grasp that I’m not only aroused by the violence I witnessed in the pit, I am excited by the tightly packed, rippling muscles of his body. He is giving off vibes that are calling to me. My life-long hatred of him seems to belong to another place and time. By a strange trick of the light it has morphed into an intense desire to meld my body with his. Shocked by that realization and super aware of him, I carry on staring out into the empty frozen fields.
    He doesn’t say a word and neither do I. There is nothing to say. Words are superfluous in the wake of the thick, sexual tension crackling like electricity between our bodies.
    Suddenly Ria is calling me. ‘There you are. I’ve been looking for you.’
    I let the butt of my cigarette drop to the ground and grind it with my foot. I hand her the packet. ‘Thanks.’
    BJ flicks the end of his cigarette away from him.
    ‘Hey Ria,’ he says quietly.
    ‘That was a great fight,’ Ria says.
    ‘Thanks,’ he says devoid of any emotion. As if he is totally unaffected by her compliment.
    My phone rings. I take it out of my purse. Shit. It is my mother. I consider not taking the call, but I know what she’s like. She will persist and persist until she gets me.
    ‘Hi Ma.’ My eyes flick over to BJ. He is watching me intently.
    ‘Where are you?’ she asks.
    I gaze down at the frozen ground. ‘I’m with Ria,’ I reply. I don’t dare tell her where I am. I know she won’t approve. She’ll probably tell Jake and he’ll go mad.
    ‘Right. Can you be home in an hour?’
    ‘I guess so. Why?’
    ‘Shane’s coming around to your place. I’ve sent some food for you.’
    ‘Oh, OK.’
    ‘Call me when you get home, OK?’
    ‘Will do.’
    ‘But call Shane first,’ she says, and rings off.
    I put my phone back into my purse and look up at Ria imploringly. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get home. My ma is sending my brother around to my place in an hour.’
    ‘Blimey,’ Ria says, widening her eyes. ‘You better call him and make it an hour and a half.’ She turns towards BJ. ‘I’ll see you this weekend then.’
    He nods and looks at me.
    ‘Bye,’ I say awkwardly.
    Then we are hurrying back into the barn in search of the guy we placed our bets with.

ELEVEN

    Layla
    S aturday. It takes forever to come, but when it does it brings a hard, tight knot into my stomach.
    I know Ria and all her mates will dress to kill, so I take a long time getting ready. I soak in the bath for almost an hour with my mother’s secret homemade masque recipe on my face and another of her concoctions in my hair. She claims it’s guaranteed to make my hair shine. My mother’s potions do a good job, my skin is glowing and my hair glossy and shiny.
    I wear my white mini dress. It is sleeveless with a high Nehru collar, but what makes it daring without being slutty is a five-inch long oval cutout in the middle of the dress that reveals my nicely tanned torso and belly