Beautiful World, Where Are You(40)

Don’t, she said.

He looked over at her. What? he asked. Don’t stop talking, or don’t stop doing that?

Either.

He put his hand back where it had been before, under her knee. In response she made a low pleasurable noise like: Mm. He let his thumb brush the inside of her thigh, under her skirt. Kind of sounds like your dad is jealous of you, she remarked. Fondly he went on watching her. What makes you say that? he asked. She leaned her head back on the armrest, looking up at the lit glass lampshade overhead. Well, you’re young and handsome, she said. And women love you. Not that your dad would mind that, if you looked up to him and tried to be like him, but you don’t. Obviously I don’t know him that well, but in my experience he’s very domineering and rude. It probably drives him crazy that you’re so nice to everyone, and nothing seems to bother you. Simon was stroking the underside of her knee, nodding his head. But in his view, I’m only nice to everyone because it makes me feel good about myself, he said. Eileen made a baffled face. So what? she replied. It’s better than bullying everyone to feel good about yourself, isn’t it? God knows we have enough sadists in the world. And why shouldn’t you feel good about yourself? You have integrity, and you’re generous, and you’re a great friend. Mildly he raised his eyebrows and for a moment said nothing. Then he replied: Eileen, I didn’t know you thought so highly of me. Closing her eyes, she smiled. Yes you did, she said. He glanced over at her where she lay with her head tipped back, her eyes shut.

I’m very happy you’re here, he said.

She made a funny face and asked: You mean like, platonically?

Moving his hand up under her skirt, he was smiling. No, not platonically, he said.

She wriggled down a little against the armrest. You know when you sent me that text saying— What did it say? she asked. Put your shoes on, I’m calling you a taxi, or something like that. It was nice.

I’m happy you thought so.

Yeah, it was weirdly sexy. It’s funny, I think I enjoy being bossed around by you. A part of me is just like, yes, please, tell me what to do with my life.

He was laughing then, touching the inside of her thigh with his fingers. You’re right, he said, that is sexy.

It makes me feel very safe and relaxed. Like when I’m complaining to you about something and you call me ‘princess’, that turns me on a little bit. Do you hate me saying that? It just makes me feel like you’re in control of everything, and you won’t let anything bad happen to me.

No, I love that kind of thing. The idea of taking care of you, or you need my help, whatever. I probably have a thing about that anyway. Whenever a girl asks me to open a jam jar, I kind of fall in love with her.

She had the tip of her finger in her mouth. And I thought I was special, she said.

With you it’s a little bit more than that, though. Actually, I remember Natalie once said to me about you— This is probably a weird thing to tell you, but anyway. You were coming over to see us in Paris and I was like, worried about you getting on your flight, or whatever. And Natalie said something like, oh, Daddy’s little girl is all on her own, something like that. It was funny. I mean, I think she was kidding.

Eileen covered her eyes then, laughing. I have one, she said. I got a text from you one night, and Aidan was just near my phone so he checked the message for me. And when I asked him who it was, he showed me the screen and went, it’s your dad.

He was pleased, embarrassed, shaking his head. I feel like if I tried to explain this to anyone else they would call the police, he said.

Just because of the Daddy’s princess thing? Or like, you also want to tie me up and torture me.

No, no. But that would be a lot more normal, wouldn’t it? My idea is more like— I hope you’re not horrified with me saying all this. But I think the fantasy is just that you’re really helpless and wet, and I’m like, telling you what a good girl you are.

Coyly she looked up at him through her eyelashes. And what if I’m not a good girl? she said. You don’t want to put me over your knee and punish me?

He moved his hand over the thin damp cotton of her underwear. Ah, but not to hurt you, he said. Only to make you behave.

For a moment she said nothing. Then she said: Will you tell me what to do?

In his ordinary, relaxed, half-amused voice he answered: Will you do what you’re told?

She started laughing again. Yes. It’s funny how much it turns me on. It’s weird. I’m really excited to think what you’re going to do to me. Sorry if I’m breaking character.

No, don’t be in character. Just be yourself.

He leaned over then and kissed her. Her head against the armrest, his tongue wet in her mouth. Passively she let him undress her, watching his hands unbutton her skirt and roll down her underwear. Reaching up under her knee, he lifted her left leg over the back of the sofa and moved her other foot down onto the floor, so her legs were spread wide open, and she was shivering. Ah, you’re being very good, he said. Shaking her head, she let out a kind of nervous laugh. Lightly with his fingers he touched her, not penetrating her yet, and she pressed her hips down into the couch and closed her eyes. He put a finger inside her then and she exhaled. Good girl, he murmured. Just relax. Gently then he pressed another finger inside her and she cried out, a high ragged cry. Shh, he said.

You’re being so good. She was shaking her head again, her mouth open. If you keep talking to me like that I’m going to come, she told him. He was smiling, looking down at her. In a minute, he said. Not yet. He took his clothes off, and she lay with her eyes closed, one knee still hooked over the back of the sofa. In her ear he said: And it’s okay if I come inside you? With her hand she clutched at the back of his neck. I really want you to, she said. He closed his eyes for a moment, nodding his head, not speaking.