"Christian, will you please behave."
Deb Wigg sighed as she pushed the metal trolley down the local Irish supermarket.
"Mummy, I want some sweets," her 6 year old son whined as he hung loosely onto the metal bars.
"You can have some after we're done here, as long as you're good. She mother sighed again as she placed another packet of food to the contents of the trolley.
It was a busy Saturday afternoon, in July. The supermarket was filling up fast and Deb was eager to get the shopping done as quickly as possible before her husband returned from work. As she stood debating over what biscuits to buy, she suddenly heard a loud crash behind her. Turning round, she cringed as her son, Christian stood next what had been a very neat display of stacked baked beans. A sorrowful expression was etched onto his cheeky face. A huge blush took over her pretty face as she grabbed Christian and apologised to the near by staff.
"That's it," she claimed as she headed full speed down the aisle. "Can't you ever behave?"
"Sorry mum," Christian apologised, his dark sparkly eyes drooping slightly in the corners.
Forcing a smile, she yawned.
"Just try not to cause any more trouble," she murmured as she grabbed some random items off the shelf and flung them into the trolley. Pushing it forward, she continued to study various items, not noticing that Christian had wandered off again.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry," Deb apologised as she heard a load muffled moan in front of her.
Bent over double in front of her was a young man, dressed in denim jeans, a Nike t shirt with a matching baseball cap, and black designer glasses.
"It's alright," the stranger replied in his thick Irish accent. "I wasn't watching where I was going anyway."
Her heart skipped a beat. She'd recognise that soulful voice anywhere. Standing upwards, he towered over Deb who stood at 5"5.
"Mummy, mummy," Christian screamed as he came tearing towards the both of them. "I got those stick things you always buy."
His cute face beamed proudly as he handed his mother a blue box.
"Oh my god just kill me now," Deb thought as she gazed down at the item in front of her.
The bloke in front of her had a bemused smile on his gorgeous face.
"Tam - pon, mummy I can say it! Tampon! Are you proud of me?"
Deb gulped, wishing the ground would just swallow her up right there and then.
"Wow, your pretty clever for a young dude, what's your name?"
Christian gazed up at the tall man in front of him.
Taking this opportunity, the brunette flung the unused item into her trolley and tried to calm the wild blush down on her cheeks. Glancing at her silver watch, she suddenly realised the time.
"Christian, we've got to go honey."
Deb smiled apologetically in the Irish man's direction.
"Well it was good meeting you?"
"Deb!" She replied with a small, shy smile.
She clasped her small hand in his, but instantly whipped it away as a spark of electricity flew between them.
"Maybe we'll bump into each other again?"
The man probed, as he folded his muscular arms across his broad chest.
"If I can help it!" Deb thought as she gazed upwards.
"Maybe we will!" She replied with a gentle smile. "Come on Christian, let's go."
Grabbing his hand and pushing the trolley, they headed for the counter, her hand struggling to control the large metal object as it still burned from his amazing touch.
Exhausted, she collapsed on her blue sofa. She had tidied the house up endlessly, not a speck of dirt was anywhere and her husband's dinner was ready and waiting in the oven. Observing the time on the clock, she grimaced slightly as she heard the familiar turning of his metal keys in the front door lock. Standing up, she took a deep breath before going out to face him.
"Hey, have a good day at work?" She asked, before her fake smile began to fade.
His blue eyes were clouded up with anger, and a mean snarl was written across his face.
"Get out my way," he spat angrily as he marched straight past her and into the kitchen. "God what the hell have you done all day? Just wasted the whole day cleaning?"
Deb gulped quietly before taking a deep breath.
"I've done the shopping and can I remind you that last night you were complaining that the house wasn't tidy enough, and now it is, your complaining that it's too tidy. I'm not going to win whatever I say really am I? By the way your dinner's in the oven."
His face thundered as Deb turned away from him and proceeded to exit the spotless kitchen.
"Don't you dare talk to me like that, or ever turn away from me again," he threatened as his fists clenched.
Deb felt her strength slowly crumbling. Putting her head down, she continued to stare at the tiles on the floor.
"Daddy, your home!" Cried Christian as he came speeding into the kitchen.
"Hey little man! How you doing/" Michael asked as he swooped down and picked his son up.
"Good, we went shopping today and Mummy ran her trolley into a man." He told his dad somewhat proudly.
Glancing towards his pretty wife, he licked his lips before continuing.
"Really? What happened Chris?"
"They just stood and spoke a bit, and mummy's face was bright red, and they shook hands."
"Do you remember which hand it was?" Michael asked him as his blue eyes burned holes into Deb.
"That one," Christian spoke as he pointed to her small right hand.
"Right little man, you go and play in your room for a bit, I need to show mummy something."
Towering above her, he roughly snatched her hand in his. Taking her middle and fourth finger, he very slowly began to bend them backwards. Deb stared up at him, fear showing in his hazel eyes.
"This is for simply being the annoying woman that you are," he said quietly, his piercing blue eyes staring directly into hers. "And this is for speaking to a stranger."
She grimaced in pain as he began to bend the two fingers back, further and further. Gasping in agony, she felt her knees beginning to fail her. Her face paled and she shut her eyes tightly. The most agonising pain shot through her hand as she heard the first crack of her middle finger. Her teeth clamped down on her lip as the second crack followed. Suddenly there was silence and her swollen hand fell loosely to her side. Opening her eyes, she was surprised to see the kitchen empty.
As she picked her hand up, she realised both her fingers were totally broken. A surge of fury raced through her body as she turned and raced through to the living room. She slowed down as she saw her husband's masculine shape sitting on the couch, staring into nothing.
"Get out," Deb said quietly, her hazel eyes flashing with hurt and fury.
"Excuse me?" His cold voice asked.
"You heard me, get out of this room, get out of this house, and don't ever bother coming back."
She felt some courage returning despite the fact her hand was throbbing.
"You can't make me do anything Deb, you never been able to and you never will."
He stood up slowly, stretching his strong body at the same time.
"Maybe I can't, but I know a few people who can."
Her voice never wavered as he walked towards her, his tanned skin contrasting with his blue contact lenses.
"Oh yeah?"
"The police."
She watched his reaction and tried very hard to contain the urge to smirk. His body froze as his eyes stared straight through her.
"Now get out."
It was a tired four days later, when Deb discovered something out that she had suspected for a long time. Michael had been having an affair for the past six months or so, with a twenty some thing old model.
"Fuckin' bastard."
She muttered angrily to herself as she placed one of Christians little T-shirts on the green ironing board. The doorbell suddenly rang, making her jump. Stamping downstairs, she marched straight up to the door and flung it open.
"What the hell do you want?" Deb spat angrily as Michael stood in front of her.
"Look I know you've found out about Karen," he began as he folded his strong arms across his broad chest.
"So?" She replied, trying to gain a careless tone to her voice.
"Look Deb can we talk about this inside so the whole street can get their heads out?"
Reluctantly she moved out the way and let him through. As they walked into the lounge, she felt her stomach slightly tighten with nerves as she recognised the nasty familiar glint in his eyes.
"Look Deb, it's obvious we aren't going to stay together, so we'll apply for a divorce, but I was wandering if you will do me the one small favour of not saying anything basically about the affair. My mum and dad will kill me."
As she stared at the pathetic man in front of her, she felt her anger boiling, starting at the pit of her flat stomach.
"You've got some bloody nerve, I'll give you that," she replied, her hazel eyes flashing furiously. "What favours have you ever done for me?"
"Look please, I'm asking nicely, just don't say anything."
His blue eyes looked directly into hers, holding a challenging glare.
"I'll do what the hell I want to do," Deb replied before flicking her hair over her shoulders.
Within the blink of an eye, he was in front her. His hand grabbed her arm and a look of sheer menace was sketched in his eyes. Deb felt her previous bravery melting away as he pushed her roughly to the carpeted floor before proceeding to drag her through to the kitchen. The carpet burnt her back as he slid her across the hard cold tiles.
"No bitch can speak to me like that and expect to get away with it," he growled before grabbing her neck and smashing her head against the sink.
Everywhere went woozy as Deb felt blood pouring out of the huge gash in her head. Dropping her lifelessly to the floor like a rag doll, her heavy eyes fell shut as everything around her turned black. Realising what he had done, but caring none the less, Michael stormed out of the kitchen, out of the house, and out of her life.
The next time Deb opened her eyes was a few hours later. A pair of blue eyes stared straight back at her, and she felt the fear returning.
"Get out," she screamed as she shot straight up in bed but winced in sudden pain. "Get away from me."
"Shhh, calm down Deb."
Instantly she felt her temper relax. She opened her hazel eyes fully to see the man in front of her.
"Oh my god, what the hell are you doing here?" She asked as her gaze travelled along the face of the world famous man in front of her.
"Me and the other guys were visiting the children wards, your neighbour Lou was in the play room with Christian. I recognised him and found out what was going on. She said that it looked like you had fallen against the sink?"
Deb sighed as her gaze focused around the room.
"What time is it?" She murmured in a sleep filled voice.
"Eight o clock," he replied with a soft smile.
"Oh god that smile," Deb thought to herself as she studied every little detail about him.
His almost black short hair had light blond highlights scattered here and there, dark eyebrows framed two of the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen in the world. A strong nose led down to the most kissable lips she had ever been within breathing distance of.
"By the way, I'm Ma-"
"Mark!" She cut him off with a grin. "From Westlife right?"
His whole face lit up in a shy smile.
"Yeah. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, Christian was really scared."
She felt her heart pounding madly as his eyes probed hers for further clues.
"Yeah, I don't suppose you know when I can go home do ya?"
She sighed as she ran her fingers over her forehead.
"No, don't!" Mark warned. "You've had eight stitches in, you can't touch them or they'll get infected. I think you're actually ok to go home later tomorrow actually. Apparently it depends on that huge burn on your back. I'm not stupid, what really happened? I noticed a small bruise on your arm that day you whacked into me at the supermarket."
Deb brushed a loose strand of her fringe out of her eyes. Sighing, she tried to change position on the lumpy bed.
"This bed is bloody uncomfortable," she mumbled, avoiding his hypnotising stare.
"Don't change the subject," Mark replied before leaning back on the plastic orange chair next to her bed.
"Look it's nothing, I'm not bothering you with my stupid problems. To be honest I can't see what it had to do with you anyway."
Deb replied sternly as she stared at the blue cotton blanket in front of her.
"Right again, but I wanna try and help."
Deb sighed in frustration at the man in front of her.
"God, I couldn't half do with a shot of tequila now," she mumbled irritably.
The sound of the bare hospital room filled with Mark's rich laughter. Deb shot an asking look at him as his bright blue eyes sparkled merrily.
"Well I dunno about tonight, but when you've recovered from your nasty fall, I'll take ye out for a drink?" Mark teased, his voice sounding slightly nervous.
Her hazel eyes widened in surprise. She felt her pulse double its speed and soft tingles shot all over her worn out body.
"That would be cool, but I've gotta warn ya, I'm known for drinking a few people under the table. Tequila being my speciality!" she told him with a wicked glint in her big eyes.
"Trust me, I can drink aswell, when your with Bryan, you don't have a choice in the matter," he joked as he glanced at the approaching doctor.
"Mrs Wigg? It seems the head injury you have suffered will heal up nicely due to those stitches we placed but I need to examine the burn on your back as to whether or not you will be fit enough for release tomorrow."
The blond male doctor said as he looked strode into the room, looking down at his clipboard.
"Your husband can stay in the room if you like or he can wait outside in the corridor."
Both Debb and Mark began to blush profously.
"He,"
"She," they both began at the same time, before looking at each other with flaming cheeks.
"I'll wait outside Deb!" Mark said, before leaving the room as quickly as possible. "Back in a few," he called out in his sexy Irish accent.
Later that night Deb fiddled with the white piece of paper that had a few random numbers written across it in scrawled writing.
She was debating whether or not to ring him tomorrow.
"But he can't possibly be interested in me," she thought as her eyes travelled across the paper for the tenth time that night. "What would a famous gorgeous twenty three year old want to do with me?"
Dozens of questions rushed through her mind that night, as eventually she drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep.
It was six-o clock the next evening when Deb decided to consult her best mate for her advice.
"Lusia? Hiya."
A warm voice answered the phone as Debb settled back onto her comfortable double bed.
"Hey honey, how's the back?" She asked, sympathy showing in her soft voice.
"A bit sore but nothing I can't handle!" She replied with a small smile.
"You should get a fella to give ya a nice gentle back massage!" Lusia joked, as she gazed at the gorgeous poster of Westlife in front of her. "Somehow bump into Mark, and put on the sob story!"
Deb felt her chest tighten at the mention of his name. She coughed before beginning to speak.
"Speaking of Mark, I have kinda met him."
"Nice one Debs, been on the tequila already have we!" Lusia asked with a giggle.
"I'm being serious Lusia," Deb huffed, slightly annoyed.
"Oh yeah right, and when have you ever been taken seriously?"
Debb smiled as she recalled all her moments of madness.
"I'm being serious this time, I whacked my shopping trolley into him last week in the supermarket."
The phone filled up with her friend's uncontrollable laughter.
"That sounds more like it!" Lusia replied, still occasionally giggling.
"Oh shut up! Anyway I've got a problem."
"That's a first, you never usually do!" Lusia teased.
"Ok, stop with the teasing now," Debb warned, with a smile on her clear face. "Basically he came to see me in hospital last night and,"
"He WHAT?" She gasped, unable to believe what she was hearing. "I mean how, what, where when?"
Laughing, Deb replied, "I'll explain that another day but basically when I'm better he wants me to ring him and go for a drink."
"You bloody lucky bitch, your seriously not kidding here are ya? Deb does he know what your like when you go drinking?" Lusia asked, her voice sounding totally serious.
"Nope!" She replied with a giggle. "But he'll find out that's for sure!"
"You've absolutely GOT to ring him Debs. Oh my god, I can't believe this. Does he know you're a bit older than him?"
"Nope, but I'm sure I'll tell him once I'm, drunk."
"Well he probably won't be bothered anyway from what I've heard."
"So I should definetly go for it and shag him?"
"Hell yeah!" Lusia replied. "But on one condition."
"What's that?" she asked wearily, dreading what she was about to say.
"Ask Mark to as Nicky if he remembers the girl from last month's concert at Wembley who had the banner reading, 'Nick, suck my clit!"
"I thought you were mad about Shane though?"
Deb questioned.
"Yeah I am, it was my mate's banner not mine! I just went with her that's all."
"Oh rite," Deb giggled.
Laughing Deb said, "I won't forget! I'll speak to you soon and thanks for looking after Christian, I could really do with the break after everything Michael put me through."
"No problem chick, speak to ya soon."
As both of them hung up, Deb couldn't help but feel excited at the thought of what was going to happen next!
It was Friday afternoon, the next day when Deb finally plucked up the courage to phone him. After a cheerful conversation, she placed down the receiver and began to look forward for later on that night. Running the bath, she observed the burn on her back. There was no way she was going to be able to get laid tonight.
"Damn you Michael, always find a way of being a prick somehow don't ya."
She grumbled as she stripped off the rest of her clothes and climbed into the white bathtub. Settling back, she leant her head against the large tub, letting her shoulder length hair float on the top of the strawberry scented water. The water stung her back slightly and she winced with slight pain.
"No slinky number for me tonight," she sighed as she flicked the bubbles with her hands.
An hour later, after she had just stepped out of the bath, her doorbell rang. Opening the door in nothing more than a white towel wrapped around her slender body, a smile formed on her face as a slim blond, stood armed with clothes and a make up bag.
"Before you ask about Christian, my brother has taken him out for the evening with his kids so all is good!"
Deb smiled at Lusia.
"Brilliant, come in!"
As it drew near to seven o'clock that evening, Lusia studied Deb as she sat on her bed.
"He's gonna think he's died and gone to heaven when he see's you," she grinned, her dark blue eyes sparkling madly.
"Hmm, ya think? When I've got him in my bed, that's when he'll seriously realise it!" She replied with a naughty smile as she turned to look at herself side ways.
Dressed in tight fitting hipster jeans along with a red low cut belly top, she definetly showed sex appeal. Fashionable cowboy boots fitted her small feet perfectly and a light jacket hugged her in all the right places. Lusia had styled her hair into a high ponytail with a few wispy strands left to trail along the side of her face.
"You look like a knock out Debs," Lusia declared as she stood up and began to clear all her stuff away.
"Knock out's right with this fuckin' thing on my face," she frowned, her eyes looking at her stitched cut on her forehead.
"It's barely noticeable, anyway considering your tits are half hanging out, I'm absolutely positive he won't be paying much attention there anyway! No offence or anything!"
She laughed.
"Make sure you ring me later for all the details aswell."
Lusia added as they both retreated downstairs. Glancing round the hall to make sure she had got everything, she gave herself the last once over in the full length mirror on the wall and followed Lusia outside, slamming the painted door loudly behind her.
Twenty minutes later, she saw a red faced Mark struggling to get through the pub doors in one piece. His clothes were creased and his black leather jacket hanging off his broad shoulders.
"Bloody fans, they just don't get the message," he panted heavily as he walked up to the bar and leant heavily against it.
"God what a tough life having millions of screaming hormonal teenage girls throwing themselves at you!" Deb replied, with a cheeky grin. "What you having to drink anyway?"
Slightly regaining his breath, he managed to say, "Pint of Guinness please."
"I hope you don't get out of breath that easily in everything," Deb whispered as she pulled away from Mark's ear.
His face reddened even more as the bartender placed his drink in front of him.
"You might say the only reason I'd get red in the face is because I last too long," he replied, his ocean coloured eyes penetrating straight into the hazel ones opposite him.
Without even showing the slightest hint of embarrassment, she simply replied.
"Well that's good because I wouldn't want you having trouble trying to keep up with me."
As they walked over to an available table, Mark's eyes travelled all along the length of her tall body, taking in every small possible detail.
"Nice tatt," he commented as she sat down next to him.
"Thanks, I prefer black one's, colour looks nasty on girls I think!" Deb said, as she flicked a long strand of her honey blond hair out of her way.
"Maybe I'll get a close up some time?!"
Mark's voice turned a shade deeper, the huskiness literally dripping off his accent.v
"Well that all depends if you play your cards right then doesn't it?" Deb shot back, as she took a slow sip off her strong tequila.
The pub suddenly burst into life as music blared out from the speakers. Instantly chairs went scraping backward as couples made their way over to the dance floor, eager to get the party started.
"How's the burn?" Mark asked as he slid his stool closer towards Deb.
As he watched her opening her mouth to reply, he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have them gently brushing his own. The room seemed to go silent as he continued to take in every single little thing about her. The way her blond hair framed her face, the way her hazel eyes sparkled brightly despite everything she'd been through just lately. The way she smiled, and those lips. God what he wouldn't give to have her take him in her mouth, right there and then. His stare travelled further down her shapely body. The red top she was wearing gave him a good eyeful, but still leaving some to the imagination. Her smooth stomach led downwards to the slim length of her long legs. He could only just control his urge to place his hand on her leg and trail it all the way upwards along the inside of her thigh.