by J. J. Sorel
Don’t I?
“No. I know what I like.” His eyes plowed into me as though we were talking about human attraction. That intense gaze was the same as when his cock was inside of me, making me gulp.
“You seem to place a lot of importance on beauty, don’t you?”
“It’s everything, isn’t it?” His lips curled ever so slightly on one side. A smile would have cracked his face.
“Beauty is everything if one can afford it,” I returned, soberly.
“Fair point.” He finished his coffee and set the cup down on an antique table. “Life’s too short to be surrounded by ugliness.”
“But it’s in the eye of the beholder. Some people find old industrial landscapes beautiful and detest the classics. They find them too staid and old-fashioned.”
“Great art is never dated. That said, we all have strange little desires that don’t always match common taste.”
I strolled around the room to study the art a little closer, even though my emotions raced. I wanted him to remind me how addicted he was to my body. His sudden distance felt icy and jarring.
“What did you mean the other night when you implied that your life hadn’t always been easy?” I asked.
15
* * *
BLAKE
PENELOPE HAD DONE something to me. Even the way she ate her muffin, made my cock hard. We’d fucked all night and morning. Now it was time to part ways. I didn’t do small talk the morning after. If anything, I needed space. That was how it should’ve been. But my head and body were at war.
After gulping down my second cup of coffee, I took a deep breath. My past wasn’t a subject I wished to explore. It was dead and buried, even if my overactive subconscious disagreed.
“I started off poor, and then, in a stroke of luck, I became rich.”
“Where were you born? That’s if you don’t mind me asking.”
I leaned against the marble-columned fireplace. “I’m from Yorkshire. I grew up close to the moors.”
Her face lit up. “Oh my… I’d love to visit the moors. I did one year of English lit and read Wuthering Heights. That book really had an impact on me. Are the moors as ruggedly beautiful as described in that book?”
“They are grim and alluring at the same time. The wind soars, and the storms can be deadly. It’s filled with bogs that, if one doesn’t watch one’s step, can swallow a person up.” I paused for a response, but Penelope seemed to hang off every word I uttered. “I also read that book. The author captured it well. Raven Abbey, an estate where I grew up, was not far from the Brontës’ home.”
“Oh, that’s so romantic.” Her enthusiasm bit contagiously. A tinge of nostalgia flushed through me.
“From the comfort of an armchair, nature in all its ruggedness radiates a powerful appeal. However, nature can also be unmerciful and cruel.”
“That’s bleak.”
“Bleak aptly describes my childhood home.”
“You don’t miss it, then?”
I shook my head decisively. “I like the city.”
“I’ve never been out of the city. I crave nature. The woods and the stories. The folklore.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” I replied coolly.
She looked at me and frowned. “Why do I get this feeling I’m holding you up?”
“I’ve got a busy day ahead.” Although I kept it cool, I still indulged myself by watching her natural sway of the hips as she walked to her bag. My body burned for her again.
“I’ll get Patrick to drive you home.”
“No need. I can ride the tube,” she said abrasively.
I admired her strength. No teary tirades but a tough wall of reserve that I recognized in myself.
I sensed that we had a few things in common. Sexually, we were tigers. Unlike the nymphomaniacal way women selling themselves behaved in bed, Penelope’s natural sensuality had taken me somewhere I’d never been before. The man I pretended to be struggled because I couldn’t stop thinking about her taste, her curves, her scent, and the way she felt with my cock buried deep inside of her.
After calling Patrick, I said, “He’s on his way.”
I held my distance because with one whiff of Penelope, I would have ripped off that silk shirt and devoured her again. Instead I maintained that reserved persona I’d mastered over the years.
She remained silent, and her tension cut into me. I wanted her to leave so that I could regain my composure. I’d made it a rule never to go beyond one night. But with Penelope, there had to be more.
But will I come out in one piece?
I walked her to the door, and seeing Patrick waiting by the car, I kissed her on the cheek.
“Bye, then,” she said coldly and rushed off with her head bowed while I stood there and watched.
Her scent remained with me as I returned to the empty room, which suddenly had transformed into a room devoid of Penelope.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I picked up a pillow and smothered my face and cried out. This was not meant to happen. I missed her already.
16
* * *
PENELOPE
I SAT IN THAT BENTLEY, which radiated the smell of leather. Confusion suddenly swept through me, and a small panic attack followed. I didn’t want Patrick to know where I lived.
We ended up heading to Soho on the pretext that I lived there, which was half-true. I sent a quick text to Sheldon to warn him.
As I sat in the Bentley, Blake’s scent seemed to emanate from my pores. My vagina throbbed. We’d fucked three times that morning.
But then it all went weirdly flat. From high to low in an instant.
There Blake stood, detached. He didn’t even look at me. He planted a kiss on my cheek and then almost pushed me out the door. My heart had shriveled into a tight ball. I wondered if I’d ever see him again.
Patrick pulled up at Sheldon’s double-story home. Although it irked me to be so false, pride still flushed through me.
I let myself in and found Sheldon frying bacon and eggs.
“Babes.” Sheldon’s happy face contrasted sharply to my sagging spirit.
“Hey. I hope you don’t mind me coming in like this.”
“Mia casa, tua casa.” He giggled.
I hugged him, and without warning, tears erupted.
“Oh, Penny, what’s happened?” He looked worried. “Let me guess… Blake Sinclair.”
Falling onto the stool at the island, I nodded.
He poured me a cup of coffee and passed it to me. “I suppose you didn’t spend the night talking?”
Shaking my head, I smiled sadly, and a tear splashed on my cheek. “Although we did talk a lot. He’s so worldly.” I shook my head. “Oh my God.”
“He’s all man?”
I nodded with a long sigh. “Yeah. Irresistibly so.”
“You got together?” His mouth stretched into a tight smile. “Only if you want to talk about it.”
“I did. And I do want to talk about it.” I shook my head.
“That good?” He tilted his head.
“It was amazing. I experienced sensations I would never have thought possible.”
“Multiples?” He raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not kidding. And he was so…” I held my hands apart.
“Oh God.” His brows gathered. “He’s got a big dick too. Yum.”
Yum, all right. The thought of it made my palate drip in the same way a chocolate cake would.
Sheldon buttered some toast. “Why are you sad then?”
“He was so cold this morning. He virtually pushed me out the door, as though he was scared somebody would find me there.”
“Does he live alone?” he asked, placing fried egg, bacon and tomatoes onto a plate.
“He’s got staff. But they weren’t around. He also admitted to me that he didn’t sleep with women. Only fucked them.”
Sheldon looked up at me wide-eyed. “He said that? Shit, that’s kind of sexy in a mysterious w
ay. And now you’re wondering if it was just a one-night stand, I suppose.”
I nodded. “It didn’t feel that way this morning when we were in bed.” I looked up at Sheldon and smiled coyly. As close as we were, I wasn’t ready to describe how frighteningly pleasurable having Blake Sinclair inside of me felt.
“Maybe he’s just awkward the next day. No alcohol to free the tongue. It’s not unusual after the first night.”
“Oh.” My heart sang. That might explain it. Maybe I was being needy too soon. “I love having you to talk to, Shelly. I didn’t think of it like that.” I dipped toast into the egg yolk, and my spirit returned. “Mm… this is so yummy. Thanks, Shelly.”
“Sex always boosts my appetite, and not just for cock.” His eyebrow arched, and I giggled.
“Speaking of which, you’re looking rather chipper today,” I said.
“Guess who paid me a midnight visit.”
“Mm… in uniform?”
He nodded. “Deliciously so. And he seemed at ease for once. He’d had a few drinks. It was amazing.”
“Then perhaps he’s starting to relax about his sexuality.”
Sheldon shrugged. “One night of wild passionate love with someone I feel hot about is better than one month of being with someone because of some irrational fear of being lonely.”
“You’ll never need be lonely with me around, Shels,” I said, touching his hand.
“You’re a sweetie. I’m so glad you’re here.” He smiled. “Come on. Eat up. And then let’s go shopping and have some fun.”
I smiled. I thought of the hundred thousand pounds sitting in my account. “I should really house hunt.”
“No, you shouldn’t. Live here. It’s my house. My rich parents gave it to me. Rent-free. That way, you can develop your career.”
I sighed. “I’m worried about my mother.”
“Rehab?” he asked.
“I’ve tried. She insists that she’s okay.”
“Maybe she just likes doing drugs,” he said.
I couldn’t argue with that sad surmise. “A form of medication, I suspect. I’m not sure what happened to her. I don’t even know my father. For all I know, she could’ve been raped.”
Sheldon winced. “You’re talented. Beautiful. A heart that’s pure.”
“Thanks.” I smiled sadly. “I do wonder who my dad was. But thinking about the men my mom brought home over the years, I can’t imagine he was anyone to make me proud.”
“At least she kept you safe.”
“She sent me next door to Lilly’s.” I recalled the numerous times, even as a three-year-old, I’d been cared for by our neighbors. Now it was my turn to look after Lilly.
That was what we did—we looked after each other.
* * *
SHOPPING HAD BEEN EXHAUSTING, so I rode a cab for once. He dropped me off at the front of the estate. In the distance, I spied the regulars loitering about in the shadows, among them Jimmy O’Hearn, who I’d grown up with.
Having stopped at the supermarket, I lugged heavy bags of groceries. The grounds at that hour were filled with all manner of comings and goings. People from all walks of life came to buy pills, weed, and heavier stuff. Everything was for sale there.
With a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, Jimmy was attractive in that heavily tattooed bad-boy way. “Hey, come into some cash?” He pointed at my shopping bags.
“I sold some art.”
Some drugged-out guy he’d been chatting with stood close and put his arm around me. “I’ve got some nice sniff.”
I shrugged out of his clasp and looked at Jimmy.
“Hey, leave her alone. She’s family.” Jimmy looked at me with a smirk. “A bit of snob, though.”
After I stuck a finger up at Jimmy, the pimply guy reacted. He didn’t get the joke. “You’re too good for us, are you?”
Jimmy pushed him back. “Lay off her!”
I wore a tight, grateful smile.
He smirked back, which was Jimmy’s way of showing some heart. Guys like Jimmy didn’t smile. Like most people at the estate, he’d had his share of misery. I’d helped care for his mother, who had cancer, when I was sixteen. With only Jimmy and his younger sister there, I brought over soup or leftovers and helped care for her. After that, whenever Lilly and I came home late, he’d make sure nobody tried to hit on us.
I turned and saw Jimmy holding out his hand. “Here, let me take those for you.”
Passing one of my heavier grocery bags, I said, “Thanks. You don’t have to.”
Ignoring me, he took all my bags. His blue eyes shimmered with warmth. He’d always been keen on me.
“Sorry about Ewen. He’s not that bad. He’s just a little crazy in the head, like most of the idiots around here.”
“I’m used to it, Jimmy,” I said.
We trudged up the stairs to the second level, stepping over empty cans and fast-food cartons along the way. The neighbor’s rubbish had been picked at by birds and spilled out everywhere, leaving a stench in its wake. It was a world away from the opulence I’d just experienced at Blake’s home.
I stood at the door. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
He remained there, looking awkward. “Hey, congrats on selling your art.” He nodded, and I could see he wanted to say more, but he was a little shy around me.
“I’m glad you’re okay. I was wondering how you were.”
“Ah… you know me. I can look after myself.”
“You’re looking strong,” I said.
“I’ve been working out a bit.” His mouth lifted at one end.
“I better go in.”
Jimmy knew about my mother’s drug habit. “Can I help?” he asked.
I touched his arm. “If I need that, I’ll ask. Thanks.” I hugged him, and his frame tightened before softening a little.
17
* * *
BLAKE
EVERY SUNDAY, I VISITED Milly, who I considered family even though we weren’t blood related. When she became an invalid, I moved her from Yorkshire to my home in Mayfair, and despite the round-the-clock care, she still pined for the country.
Milly became my surrogate mother after I lost my own mother to Sir William, her boss. I sensed there was something between them, but that remained a mystery.
I fell into thinking about Penelope again. Her taste lingered on my lips, and just the thought of being inside of her made my cock hard.
Lost for words, I retreated into myself. Normally after fucking, I’d part with a woman. There was no morning after, so to speak. Ever. Penelope was a first. I’d even fallen asleep holding her, which wasn’t part of my plan. I woke to find her soft warmth pressed against me. I’d suddenly discovered what holding someone really felt like. Good. Really good. I’d never longed for that experience until Penelope.
Extricating myself from her body while she slept had been torture, but I had to. I might have harmed her. Reluctantly, I crept off to an adjoining guest room and ended up staring at the ornate ceiling. I couldn’t sleep. I just kept feeling her breasts against my chest and hearing her sighs when I fucked her the second time. Her wild spasms had clenched my dick, setting off a mind-blowing orgasm the like of which I’d never experienced before. Penelope’s responsiveness left me breathless. By morning, I’d become greedy.
At dawn, I snuck back into the bed.
She fitted into me naturally as though our bodies were made to be one. And then she turned toward me, her beautiful face smiling shyly. I devoured her rosebud lips imagining how they’d feel wrapped around my cock. As I fucked her from behind, I climaxed so violently that Pierce might have mistaken my tormented groans for one of my nightmares.
When I tried calling her, I got her voicemail. I didn’t leave a message, because I hated leaving messages unless it was business. I tried once more, but she didn’t pick up.
Remembering how Penelope’s phone had played up after she’d tried to call her friend when we were driving back to Mayfair, I called Patrick.
He picked up straight away. “Blake.”
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Sure.”
“Buy a cell phone, set it up with a sim card, and deliver it to Penelope. You’ve got the address where I left her this morning.”
“I’m onto it.”
“Thanks. And Patrick, let me know when she receives it, and text me the number.”
“Will do.”
* * *
I SLIPPED THROUGH THE RECEPTION area, ran up the stairs, and knocked on Milly’s door.
“Come in.”
I walked in and found her at the window with a blanket over her knees. Her warm smile always made my day. I went to her, and bending down, I kissed her on the cheek, taking away her signature lavender fragrance.
“Hello, Blake. I almost didn’t think you’d make it.”
“I got a little delayed. Sorry.” I smiled tightly.
“Oh, you haven’t anything to apologize for, my boy. It’s a miracle that you come so regularly. I’m humbled by your devotion.” She smiled.
“I’d always let you know if I wasn’t coming.” I placed the bag of goodies at her table. “Just some chocolates and magazines.”
“Oh, you spoil me.” She studied me. “Something’s different. Tell me— have you met a woman?”
I contorted my face. “Huh? What gives you that impression?”
“There. You have. You’d normally jump in quickly and deny it. When one’s been around as long as me, it’s easy to read the signs.”
I took a deep breath. There was no hiding anything from Milly.
I sat down to join her at the window seat. In the distance, a large flock of birds formed a V shape and, as always, filled me with wonder.
“What’s her name?”
“Penelope,” I responded resignedly.