Page 25 of Ship of Fools

“I use her for going to the gym, and I play football on Sundays. The rest of the time I walk where I need to be. It’s not like I really need a car around here.”

“She needs a valet, and a good clean.” I sniff the interior as I get in. Leathers and polish. Four different colours of interior leather in the front seat alone, and I don’t dare to look in the back.

“I use her to try out new materials, just to see how the colour holds, and how well they age. Sometimes I need to stretch leathers to fit, and they damage. The grey leather in this panel here looks amazing, and I have battered that part to hell. Phoebe is useful like that.”

“Phoebe?” I laugh. Again. So fucking funny. “Your car is called Phoebe?”

“So? I liked Friends when I was younger.”

“I like Friends. I totally idolised Jennifer Aniston, then she married Brat Pitt and I kind of lost the respect. Can’t stand Joey though. I dunno why?”

“I like Brad Pitt.”

“That’s it. We’re breaking up.”

“You’re not breaking up with me. I won’t let you.” He leans across from the driver's seat and smacks a wet kiss on my mouth. “And you promised to stay tonight. If you break up with me, you’ll have to sleep on the sofa, and I wouldn’t let you have any covers.”

“Brr... ohh... Booo!” I say, putting on my silliest voice as he smiles and starts the car.

“Look.” He says.Then he stops the engine and puts the handbrake back on.

“I’m not breaking up with you.” I quip.

“I just wanted to say something.”

“Okay?”

He rubs his hands and lets out a deep sigh. He can’t even look at me as he starts to talk.

“I didn’t like that I… I don’t... you know. I smacked you earlier and it must have hurt. I don’t ever want to do that. I’m…”

He seems to run out of steam, his whole body tenses, like he’s trying to knot himself into a ball of invisibility and shame. He’s got nothing to be ashamed of, and for once I am lost for words.

“I don’t know what to say.” I say instead, reaching out and grabbing his hand on the steering wheel. “You didn’t hit me. You didn’t hurt me. We were playing, acting out a fantasy that we were both enjoying. You enjoyed it as much as I did, at least I thought you did.”

“I shouldn’t have done it, I knew it was fucked up, but it was so bloody hot and I... I didn’t know how to stop. I was just really into it, and I didn’t think, and…”

“Look.” I say sternly. “Stop.” He just sits there, as I breathe through my nose. Sigh. Try to gather what I am trying to say. “I’ve known you for what, a day and a bit?”

Luca says nothing.

“Let me start again. What we did last night was insane. I have never had that withanyonebefore, and that is telling the truth. I loved that you took control, I loved that you looked after me and I loved every part of it. Then this morning? I trusted you, because I knew, whatever you did, I would be safe. Do you know how bloody amazing it is to feel that you can trust someone? I’ve only known you for a short while, but I trust you. I could relax and just get into it all,being me, because you were just you, the way you are. You’re a bit of a mess in real life, but in bed? When you are in control? Have you seen yourself?”

“No.” He says softly. “I shouldn’t have hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me. You smacked my arse during sex, and I was begging for it. You did it, because I wanted it, and it was fucking perfect, and excuse the language, but it fucking was. And if you are very, very honest with yourself, you found it kind of arousing too. I knew you wouldn’t hurt me, and trust me, people have hurt me before, because I was too bloody stupid to stop them.”

“You need to say stop.” Luca is looking at me, and I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s back to being himself again, and not the terrified shell of a person he sometimes becomes. “You need to promise me that you will say stop, if I ever go too far.”

“I promise. I’ve told you. If I say stop, then I mean it.”

“I won’t hurt you. Please don’t ask me to.”

“Then... I’ll tell you... but can we maybe please sit down and talk about this at a time when we are not trying to get to the hospital, and it’s not Christmas and we can... We need to talk. I want to talk about this, and try to tell you what I like. Because I am not some kinky bastard who gets off on pain, I just... I like the fantasy. I like playing around, and pretending I am someone else. That’s my kink, and... I like it a bit rough. I like slaps and spanks and I think you and me… I think we sometimes get off on the same thing.”

“I got off on it this morning. I didn’t like that I did, but at the same time?” He looks at me like he’s still confused about what’s coming out of his mouth.

“You and me?” I lean over and kiss his stupid face. Smooth down his hair. Stroke his cheek. “We are going to mess up, and we are going to argue over things and get annoyed, and I guarantee you are going to get fed up with me and my mouth, and that I never switch off and my god I can talk, but you know what? I think sexual chemistry is the least of our worries. You and I are… I can’t even describe it. We are…”

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