by Bay, Louise
A Week in New York
By Louise Bay
Published by Louise Bay 2014
Copyright © 2014 Louise Bay. All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.
ISBN - 978-0-9928918-4-8
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
An extract from Autumn in London
Acknowledgments
Other Books by Louise Bay
Chapter One
Anna
“Has he tried to contact you?”
I could barely hear Leah through the booming of the bass. We were perched on stools at the oh-so-cool bar in TriBeCa and we had to lean in to each other to be heard. I’m not sure if hearing her would have helped me make sense of what she was saying—we were three cocktails in. But I got that she was talking about Ben—she hadn’t really talked about much else.
Leah was my best friend in the whole world. We had met at law school, and until recently, we’d shared a flat. She was supremely protective of me, and I of her. Talking about men and drinking cocktails is what we did, and we did it so well. The subject of our conversation tonight was Ben—my most recent ex.
“He wouldn’t dare. Probably knows I’d rip his balls off.” I shrugged and sipped on my Manhattan. I had to drink Manhattans while I was in Manhattan, didn’t I?
“I just can’t believe it,” Leah said for the 57th time that evening.
I shrugged again and looked over Leah’s shoulder and saw a face in the shadows looking at me. He raised his glass and nodded in my direction. Did I know him? He looked familiar. My eyes darted back to Leah.
“And you didn’t have any hints?” she asked.
“I mean, he was different from other guys I had dated. But no, he never dropped it into the conversation that he was mixed up in crazy shit and owed money to the wrong kind of people.”
Ben the biker had turned into the boyfriend from hell—or Ben the Bastard as Leah now referred to him. He had always been so sweet to me. I thought he was going to be different. I thought I’d finally made a good choice after having precisely no luck with men for years. But I’d been delivered a reality check—Ben the Bastard was a bastard. The crazies he’d owed money broke into our flat and scrawled a crazy-assed threat across the bathroom mirror in Leah’s room. They hadn’t taken anything, which confused us. About a week later, Ben confessed and I went to the police.
The police had called earlier today and confirmed that Ben had confessed to them, as well. It had been a threat to scare him into paying back what he owed.
“So you’re going to sell your apartment?”
“Well, I still call it a flat, but yes, I’m going to sell it,” I smirked. Leah started calling her mobile a cell as soon as we landed at JFK. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tease her sudden Americanization.
I’d decided on the plane that I was definitely going to sell my flat. I’d not felt right about the place since the break in. Daniel, Leah’s boyfriend and all around perfect man, had arranged for an alarm to be installed. But Leah had moved in with him, and I hated being on my own. Even though I knew the police were handling it, I still didn't want to be in the flat. I didn't tell Leah that because she would have moved me in with her and Daniel, and as much as I loved them, I didn't want to be living with them and interrupting their sexy time. Especially when I wasn't having any of my own.
Leah, as she couldn’t stop telling me, couldn’t believe it. But I stopped hearing from him around the time of the break-in, and so I had a niggling at the back of my brain. I’d never had much luck with the men in my life. They started off really great, but then around the three-month mark something always went wrong. I went off them, or they became clingy, or they had crazies breaking into my flat. Same old, same old.
When Leah invited me to keep her company on a week’s trip she and Daniel were making to New York, I jumped at the chance. It was an opportunity to get away from London and my flat and any complications of the male variety. Daniel would be working a lot, apparently, so we’d have plenty of girl time. And girl time was just what I needed. After Leah’s last break up, we’d flown to Mexico for a holiday. Flying west seemed to get her over her heartbreak. Let’s hope it did the same for me.
The bartender slid some more drinks in front of us—a Manhattan in front of me and a replica of the disgustingly sweet concoction that Leah had ordered earlier. I looked at Leah and she shrugged and picked up her drink. I gently pushed her wrist, persuading her to put it back on the bar.
“We didn’t order these,” I said to the bartender.
He pointed at the man I half-recognized. “They’re courtesy of the gentleman at the end of the bar.”
Sirens blared in my head. Oh no. This wasn’t happening. I didn’t want male attention. I didn’t want any complications. The familiar stranger caught my eye and raised his drink again. Ungratefully, I rolled my eyes and sat back in my chair. Leah looked at me pleadingly.
“Fuck it,” I said and grabbed the fresh cocktail. I might as well drink it. It didn’t mean I had to talk to him.
“So, Daniel has this friend,” Leah said.
“Not interested.”
“He’s a really nice guy.”
I shook my head.
“But you always told me the way to get over a man is to get under another.”
“I would never say something like that.”
“You did and you know it.”
I grinned. I so would. “I’m not dating.”
“What? Ever?”
“Look, I just found out that my last boyfriend was mixed up in a whole lot of crazy. I’m not on the market. I need to give myself a timeout. I have shockingly bad taste in men.”
“You totally do not.”
“What about the guy that picked up the waitress while I popped to the loo.”
“Well, he was a douche. But you still need a bit of fun in your life.”
“She’s right,” a voice said from behind me. I turned to find the familiar stranger looking down at me
Leah popped off her stool, grinning. “I have to go to the restroom.”
“Restroom? Not loo?” I teased, and rolled my eyes. She was about as subtle as a brick.
The stranger lowered himself into Leah’s seat. I could feel him looking at me while I stared into my drink.
“I have rules,” I blurted.
He didn’t respond so I looked up to see if he was paying attention. He was looking straight at me with bright blue eyes. I stared back at my drink, unnerved. Ok, objectively he was handsome, the tall and dark variety, but no doubt a total shit because he was here talking to me and I was a shit magnet.
“Rules about fun?”
I nodded. “Rules if you want to get laid tonight.”
“I’m listening,” he said, without missing a beat.
Did I have rules? We
ll, now I had to think of some. “I don’t want to know your real name. Make something up.”
He shook his head. “No. No, that’s not going to work for me. You’re not going to be screaming another man’s name tonight. My name is Ethan.”
Our eyes locked and my breath caught in my throat.
“Look, I’m sick of being lied to. If I don’t expect anything from you I can’t possibly be disappointed.”
“I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
I took a beat and said, “I don’t want to know anything about you. And I won’t tell you my real name.”
“You British girls seem to have a certain charm about you.”
“If you don’t like it, feel free to leave me alone.” I really wasn’t in the mood to mess about.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’d like to see how this plays out.” He grinned at me and I felt the corners of my mouth twitch. I wanted to hate him. “So you know I’m Ethan. And I work in construction?” He asked instead of told me.
It was very clear from his Cayman Islands tan and the Rolex on his left wrist that he didn’t work in construction, but he’d lied at my request, so I had no room to complain. I felt a shiver down my spine. This might be fun.
“I’m Florence.”
He shook his head. “No. You’re not Florence.”
“I know, but I’m not going to tell you my real name. I told you, there are rules.”
“That’s fine, but your made-up name isn’t going to be Florence. It’s about as sexy as an old shoe and you’re a sexy girl. You need a sexy name.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Ok,” I said cautiously. “Kate?”
He shook he head again.
“Whatever. Choose something.”
I could see him thinking. I was interested to see what he’d come up with. How did he see me? “Anna,” he said finally.
What?? Did he know me? No. We lived 3,000 miles from each other. Did I look like an Anna? It must be just some kind of weird coincidence. What did it matter if he used my real name, anyway? I’d never see him again after tonight.
Leah came back from the restroom at that moment, interrupting any debate I might have with Ethan over his invented name for me.
Ethan reached out to shake Leah’s hand. “I’m Ethan. We were just leaving, but we’ll see you home.”
I giggled. He was pretty sure of himself, that was for certain. “I did not—”
“My boyfriend’s driver is outside. I can see myself home.” She grinned like an idiot.
“Ok, then we’ll walk you out,” Ethan said, as if we were a couple or something.
Daniel’s driver was chatting to a man who turned out to be Ethan’s driver when we got outside. I said goodbye to Leah, promising to call her in an hour to let her know where I was and that I was ok. Ethan opened the door to his car and gestured for me to get inside.
“Do you know Daniel?” I asked.
“Daniel who?”
“Daniel Armitage.”
“I know of him, but I’ve never met him. Why do you ask?”
“Your driver seems to know his driver.”
“Leah’s boyfriend is Daniel Armitage?”
I nodded and he nodded in response.
“Where are we going?” I asked, slightly panicked. Why hadn’t I asked before? I’d just got into a car with a stranger without asking any questions. What was I doing? I pulled out my phone to text Leah.
“Columbus Circle. Mandarin Oriental,” he said to the driver.
I told her where we were going and that I’d text her later to let her know I was ok. I swallowed and leaned forward to unwind the window to let the warm air of the New York summer spill in. OK, well if we were going to a hotel. He meant business. And when I say business, I mean sex. I’d never been into one-night stands. I didn’t like the idea of a stranger seeing me naked. But this stranger was particularly attractive and I was here in New York City to blow off some steam and have some fun, right? It was the city that didn’t sleep, and when in Rome …
My right leg started bouncing. A nervous habit. I only noticed as I caught Ethan noticing. He dragged his eyes from my leg up to my eyes and smiled.
“There’s no need to be nervous. We won’t do anything you don’t beg me to do to you,” he whispered in my ear.
Wow. My stomach tilted and I shifted in my seat, and went back to staring out the window.
Chapter Two
Ethan already seemed to have the key to a … our … the room. We made our way up in the elevator without speaking. Without touching. I was more nervous than I wanted to be. I could do sex with no strings attached. What was the big deal?
When we reached the door, it swung open to reveal a huge living room overlooking Central Park. It was the most romantic thing I’d ever seen. The ceiling was decorated in what looked like gold leaf. The floors were dark and gleamed against the lights of the city. It looked like a place where a Roman god would live.
“Fuck,” I said, failing to keep what was in my head in my head.
“It’s a great view, isn’t it?”
I nodded and walked toward the window, placing my hands on the glass as I stared out. I wanted to know who this guy was. He certainly wasn’t in construction. Maybe he was a gangster. I reminded myself that it didn’t matter. I wasn’t here for romance or to get to know him. I was here for fun. Distraction without complications.
“Can I get you a drink to go with that view?”
“Whiskey, please,” I replied without turning around. I heard him clink about behind me as I tried to make out various landmarks. “I think I can see the Dakota Building,” I said, as if I were sightseeing, forgetting I was talking to a stranger I was about to have sex with.
“It’s unusual for women to drink whiskey,” Ethan said.
“I guess you’d know.” Again, I didn’t mean for the comment to slip out of my head. Or maybe I did. Maybe I wanted to see what response it would solicit. But there was no response.
“Show me what you’re looking at,” he said, standing behind me, close. I could feel his body heat rolling off him. He handed me my whiskey and dropped his arm around my waist to pull me against him. I stiffened slightly and then relaxed. This was nice. The drink, the view, the Roman god. He smelled of something. Something intoxicating. I couldn’t think what it was. Money. Sex. Power.
My finger stabbed the glass. “There. Is that the Dakota Building?” I pointed at the green-roofed building on the west of the park.
“I don’t think so. I think the Dakota is on the East side.”
“Oh.” I tipped my head back slightly and it fell on his chest. He was tall. Very tall.
He pushed his cheek against mine and lowered his mouth to my neck, his breath tickling my skin. I wanted him. I really wanted him.
“I have more rules.”
He kissed my neck. “Tell me.”
“You have to wear a condom.”
“Right this moment?” he teased.
“No, later when … if.”
“What else?” He kissed my neck again.
“We’re not exchanging numbers or email or saying we’re going to see each other again.”
He moved to the other side of my neck and kissed me again. I could feel myself soften slightly with each touch of his lips.
“Ok,” he replied. “Is that it?”
“For now,” I said. My brain was fuzzy and I couldn’t think of anything else.
“Good.” He pulled away from me and I turned to see him sit down on the sofa opposite the window. “Undress for me.”
I paused, just for a second or two, but there was no saying no to him—and I didn’t want to say no. I fumbled with the top button of my shirt and then steadied my hand and undid the rest of the buttons. I peeled off the tight-fitting blue silk shirt and let it fall to the ground. I looked at him and he was looking me directly in the eyes as he took a sip of his drink. I felt my underwear dampen.
He was just gorgeous, the kind of man you’d find on
a billboard in Times Square, but not on a sofa opposite me, waiting for me to get naked. I found the zipper of my skirt and I turned around so my back was facing him as I pulled it down. Bending at my waist, pushing my butt toward him, I stepped out of it. I gave him a quick look over my shoulder. His eyes had darkened and he licked his lips. He actually licked his lips, like he was getting ready to devour me. I turned to face him in my underwear and heels.
“I’ll take care of the rest. Come here,” he growled. I felt heat rush to my sex. I walked across to him and stood between his knees. “Where do I start with you? You’re so beautiful. Like a perfectly wrapped present that gets more exciting as the layers come off.”
I had to stop myself from enjoying his words. I wasn’t here to be romanced. I was here to have fun.
He sat forward suddenly and delved into my underwear, his thumb finding my nub instantly. “You’re already wet for me,” he said as his fingers slid along my folds, coating his fingers with me as his thumb circled my clitoris. My legs softened and my hands fell on his shoulders to steady myself.
He looked up at me. “You like that?”
I gasped and nodded, unable to speak.
“I knew you would. I knew when I saw you across the bar, rolling your eyes at me. I knew this is what you wanted, what you needed.” His fingers quickened and I twisted my hips in some kind of futile resistance. “Stay still while I make you come.”
I tipped my head back as his fingers and thumb continued their work. My whole body felt hot, on fire. The heat was emanating from between my legs and spreading throughout my body. I could feel my nipples straining at the lace of my bra, begging for attention. My shoulders rounded forward.
“Take it off,” he said. “Your bra. Now. Take it off.”
I felt myself shudder at his words. Unsteady and half-crazed, I unsnapped the clasp of my bra and stripped it off.
“Oh, yes. You are perfect. Perfect tits. Perfect pussy.”
“Oh god,” I said. “Oh god. Oh god.” I was gasping for breath.
He reached behind me and pushed me harder on to his hand and he plunged his fingers into me. “I’m your god tonight, beautiful. Now come for me.”