Chapter 1

Anna stirred. The duvet had slipped from her arms and goose bumps prickled her skin. Groaning, she tugged at the heavy cover until she was cocooned once more in duck down. She wriggled into a comfortable position and, eyes still tightly shut, chased the remnants of her dream.

But something disturbed her: a muffled drumming somewhere close.

What is it? Rain? The wind?

Rubbing sleepy eyes, she listened, her drowsy brain slowly connecting the dots. It sounded like…like a shower running.

“Mattie?”

She stretched out her arm and searched between the cotton sheet and the duvet. The far side of the bed was warm but, sure enough, it was empty. Anna lifted her wrist and squinted at her watch.

Five. It’s only five.

Leaning sideways, she flipped the light cotton curtains and peered at the world through the rain-spattered window. All dark. Not a glimmer of light on the eastern horizon, yet no stars or moon either. A thick bank of cloud, tinged orange by the street lamps, scudded by in a westerly direction. The blustery wind bent the shadowy trees into twisted shapes while tearing away the last of their dry autumn foliage.

A solitary set of car headlights pierced the darkness, the growl of the engine and swish of tyres on wet tarmac temporarily disturbing the quiet. The light faded. The noise died.

Yawning, Anna let the curtain fall. She stared into the gloom of the bedroom, blinking at the intermittent red flash of the smoke detector on the ceiling and willing her eyes to adjust to the dull glow of the street lamps permeating the curtains. Shapes emerged in the shadows—a chair, wardrobe, two tall bookcases. Matilda’s haphazardly heaped clothes sat on the chair seat and, next to them, a backpack; stuffed ready to go.

Matilda’s coat hung on a door hook, Anna’s coat next to it. She couldn’t see her other clothes. When she’d called round after her shift, Matilda had greeted her, champagne in hand, wearing nothing but a smile and Anna had hurriedly shed her clothing, scattering garments like leaves in the wind in her eagerness for skin-on-skin contact.

Ah, what a night…

Anna smiled at the memory but, as she gazed around, her face fell. Even in poor light, she saw the room was bare—no pictures, no ornaments or books on the shelves. Nothing. All gone. The homely flat had been reduced to a shell.

She screwed her eyes shut, blocking out the sight. Instead, she concentrated on the sound of the shower and let images of Matilda—lovely images—consume her mind. Body wet and glistening, she’d be slathered in strawberry shower gel and green apple shampoo. The foam would be dripping from her breasts and clinging to her neat little triangle of pubic hair, like it did when they showered together after making love.

Memories. Wonderful, lovely memories.

Anna wriggled back under the duvet. Snug and safe, she let her thoughts fly…She touched her breasts, squeezed them like Matilda had done mere hours ago. Her hips snaked slowly, rubbing against soft cotton, as she recalled every delicious moment of their lovemaking. Sighing, she slid her hands down her naked abdomen and, parting her thighs, touched the soft folds of her sex.

She was wet, juices beaded along her slit. She was sore too. Her pussy felt used. Ravished. Loved. Clenching her thighs, she eased a finger between her inner lips…but heavy footsteps stomping across the room above caused her to stop. She looked up and sighed. The couple in flat five were starting their day. Always early risers, Anna had heard their morning noises many times but never paid any heed; she’d merely turned over and hugged Matilda. With her lover’s warm body in her arms, the racket always disappeared like fog in the sun. Dear sweet Mattie had that effect, but…

Anna peered at her watch again—and groaned. Vaguely nauseous, she covered her eyes with her hands. It’s almost time.

Rolling to one side, she drew Matilda’s pillow close and pressed her nose onto the cotton case. Traces of strawberry shower gel lingered on the fabric. There was another scent too—the faint whiff of sex. Matilda’s heart-shaped derriere had rested on that pillow while she, head between Matilda’s thighs, lapped the honey from her core. Anna licked her lips as if still able to taste the sticky sweetness. Her pussy throbbed but, suddenly tense, she sat bolt upright. She glared at the backpack lurking by the chair.

That was the last time they’d make love. The very last. Unless…

A car door slammed, then another. Engines revved, then two sets of tyres squealed away in different directions. Flat five gone already?

Anna flipped the curtain again and watched the car lights disappear. She turned away just as the shower stopped running. Sitting back against the pillows, she pulled her knees to her chest and listened. In the hushed room, she could hear her heartbeat, the rapid rhythm mirroring the panic growing inside her. She held her breath, trying to restore calm, but when the bathroom door creaked, her pulse surged.