Fire by Deborah Challinor Page B

through her body and her face and neck reddening.
    Vince tugged her blouse out of her waistband and slid it off completely, then reached behind her to unhook her bra. When she was naked from the waist up, he grasped both of her wrists in one hand and held them up, pinning them against the boxes stacked behind them.
    ‘God give me strength,’ he said, gazing lasciviously at her.
    He slid his free hand up her thigh until his fingers met flesh above stocking. Then, letting her wrists go, he pushed up her skirt until the white triangle of her pants was visible.
    As he lifted the lacy edge of the flimsy fabric, Irene stopped his hand, even though she was very much ready for him to do anything he liked. ‘No, Vince, I’d love to, I really would, but it’s the wrong time and place. Couldn’t we find somewhere, well, nicer?’
    Extracting his hand from beneath her skirt and sighing heavily, Vince sat back. His was sweating freely now, the bulge in his trousers still very evident.
    ‘Where do you live?’ he asked.
    ‘Eden Terrace.’
    ‘Does your husband ever go out by himself? At night, I mean?’
    ‘Hardly ever. He doesn’t even go out with me, let alone without me. And, well, I don’t think I’d want to do it in my house, Vince.’
    ‘Christ, I’d do it in mine, but my wife sticks to me like shit to a blanket. We only go out when we’re both invited, and even then Cynthia watches me like a bloody hawk.’
    ‘Why? Have you done this sort of thing before?’
    ‘No,’ he said, rather too quickly. ‘She’s just a very possessive sort of woman.’
    ‘So we can’t go to your house?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Not even at lunchtime?’ Irene suggested.
    Vince shook his head. ‘Cynthia doesn’t go out to work.’
    Irene felt her heart sink. Was it possible that they actually couldn’t find an opportunity to be together? Was it going to be that difficult? And would he lose interest if it was?
    Vince leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.
    When he didn’t say anything for over a minute, Irene asked, ‘Vince? Are you all right?’
    He looked up, his face a picture of disappointment. ‘I don’t know what to suggest, Irene, I really don’t. And I want to be with you so much, you have to understand that. You mean…’ He trailed off, staring at the floor again.
    Irene hung on for as long as she could, but finally had to ask, ‘I mean what, Vince? What were you going to say?’
    Vince swept his hand back through his hair, took a deep breath and turned to face her. ‘I wasn’t going to say this in case it frightened you off, but bugger it. Irene, you mean the absolute world to me. I think about you night and day, and every time I see you I go weak at the knees and I want to take you in my arms and make love to you. I can’t help it, darling, you’re just so beautiful and so bloody sexy.’ He thumped his thigh angrily with a closed fist. ‘God, why couldn’t I have met you earlier! But I didn’t and I’m married to someone else and…and wanting you is driving me insane and we can’t bloody well do anything about it!’
    Shocked at his passionate declaration, and reeling from the sense of power it gave her, Irene felt both elated and panicked. This was it, this was what she had wanted all along, and now she was going to lose it, all because they couldn’t find a bloody bed!
    ‘What if we got a hotel room?’ she suggested desperately.
    ‘No, Irene, those rent-by-the-hour places are flea-pits and you’re worth more than that,’ he said, echoing her earlier words. He shook his head in anguished resignation. ‘No, it’s no good, I’m going to have to get a job somewhereelse. I can’t go on like this, seeing you every day and not being able to have you.’
    Irene made a decision. She picked up his hands and settled them around her waist. ‘Well, we’ll do it here then.’
    Vince’s face lit up. ‘Are you sure?’
    Irene nodded.
    Vince kissed the tip of her nose. ‘God, girl,