The Angels' Share Read Free Page B

was to remind me that it had been simply ages since I had indulged in sex. Even the quick flash of their two bodies had created a knot of desire in my knickers that I knew wouldn’t budge until something was done about it. I glanced around the empty cottage.
    ‘You’re looking hot tonight,’ I joked to myself in the dusty, cracked mirror that hung lopsidedly above the fireplace. Then, ‘Fancy a tumble?’ I swallowed hard before tentatively bringing the binoculars back to my eyes. My vision adjusted more easily this time, allowing an immediate close-up of a creamy pair of full breasts with angry turned-up nipples being alternately chewed upon by, judging by his body size and shape, the man who had called out from the cottage doorway earlier.
    ‘This is a bonus’, I crowed. I had resigned myself to virtual celibacy while I claimed my father’s estate. I wasn’t sure whether to rejoice, because now I would have more to add to my fantasy-filled journal, or to become insanely jealous that, yet again, I was missing out on heated passion and the joy of being with someone special.
    Erratic glimpses of the couple finally caused my exhaustion and tension to wane as I relaxed into the unexpected role of voyeur. I shifted a dusty armchair to the window and settled down to watch the unsuspecting pair. It was a moment I couldn’t sacrifice to unpacking my bag and fetching firewood. To give a clearer view, I removed my hat and rubbed it over the grimy window, polishing the couple’s performance. I could see that the man was still dressed. The woman was naked from the waist up. It appeared that they had only just begun their antics.
    ‘Do they know I’m watching?’ I pondered out loud. ‘Did they suppose that someone was on their way to this cottage and they hoped they might get spotted?’ The thought that they were putting on a private show gave me a tingle in my nipples. I pushed one hand inside my many layers of clothing and located my breast, albeit through my sweatshirt. ‘Lucky pair,’ I whimpered as I realised just how in need of comfort I was. There I was, alone in a freezing, derelict cottage that could be washed away by a freak wave at any moment, with no warming fire, no bottle of red wine to share with a lover, no clean sheets to slip between when the flirting and innuendos had reached a critical level. I was tired, hungry, cold, dirty, scared and the loneliest I think I’d ever been.
    ‘I’ll feel better in the morning,’ I mumbled as I reached inside my pack for the emergency bottle of Spanish brandy. Briefly, I was reminded of home – my simple cortijo in the beautiful mountains, the ever-present sun, my friends, the tranquil existence of life in remote Spain. But I didn’t regret my mission, especially now as my first night’s company was assured, although it was passion by proxy.
    I sipped from the flask and was instantly warmed from the inside. I would curl up by a roaring blaze later and write up my diary with the comfort of the brandy. Things were already looking up. I had Steph’s sexy tale to add to my journal and now this. I removed my weatherproof coat and three other layers of clothing until I was sitting in my silk camisole and unbuttoned jeans. I tried not to shiver.
    ‘On with the show,’ I said with a giggle. I focused the binoculars and was immediately filled with disappointment. The pair were nowhere to be seen. ‘Perhaps they thought I’d lost interest in them or maybe they’ve gone to finish things in another room.’ I slowly scanned each window of the cottage and, aside from the warm glow and open curtains, there was nothing to be seen. I wondered if signalling would encourage them to continue. Risky, I knew, revealing that someone was inside the usually deserted beach cottage, but I was so keen for something more than just my own fingers that I even considered running up to their front door and begging them to continue.
    I blew out all the candles and held the torch up at my