Mr. London

by Margot Scott

  Alex and I leave the restaurant soon afterwards and continue our journey, still heading northwest. We’re silent for a stretch of the road, both enjoying the comfort of being able to be quiet in one another’s presence. Eventually, Alex breaks the silence, telling me we are now entering Buckinghamshire. Alex drives the Porsche carefully, slowing down, the road becoming quite narrow. We travel along a winding back road and finally come to a stop in front of a massive, wrought iron gate, at least fifteen feet high. Alex gets out, punches a code into the keypad. The gate slowly begins to open, heavy under its own weight. Alex drives through the entrance, stopping to make sure the gate closes securely behind us.

  We drive along a paved one-way road, a white wooden fence on each side. Beyond that is nothing but sweeping emerald green pastures as far as the eye can see. We drive past a pond with beautiful white swans gliding peacefully along the water’s surface. I see horses grazing lazily in the summer’s heat. I am speechless. The beauty and grandeur takes my breath away.

  And then the house comes into view. A sprawling, two story English countryside home. Alex drives around the circular driveway, a water fountain of a nude woman in the center, and parks the car.

  “Is this yours?” I ask in awe, eyes wide, stunned by the beauty of the estate. I’d only seen homes like this in magazines or coffee table books.

  “Yes, it’s my country home. I suppose you could call it my retreat from the real world.”

  I sit in silence for a few moments while Alex unloads our bags.

  This is unbelievable. I’ve stepped into a fantasy world.

  Let the fantasy begin.

  Chapter 16

  Caprice Belmonte specialized in fantasies. She knew exactly what turned men on, and what didn’t. In her line of work she had to. Men were turned on by women who took care of themselves, and Caprice took care of herself very well. Weekly trips to the salon, manicures, pedicures, weekly massages, waxing. Caprice was groomed to perfection. She knew the look that turned men into putty in her hands – svelte, toned body with curves in all the right places, full, pillowy lips. Long, silky shiny hair. Caprice knew which clothes accentuated her perfect body. She shopped at all the high-end designer boutiques – Gucci, Versace, and her favorite Dolce & Gabbana. Caprice had an envious collection of stilettos - Louboutins, of course.

  She knew the attitude that drove them wild – sensuous, feminine, with an eagerness to please. Exude glamour. Men enjoyed glamorous women, especially Italian men. Sergio was no different. Caprice used her looks and glamour to get what she wanted in life, and so far it had worked very well.

  Sergio kept insisting that she quit dancing, but Caprice wasn’t ready to give up the stage. At least not yet. What Caprice really wanted was to break into mainstream entertainment – she wanted to be an actress. Sergio had the means and connections to help her realize her dream. She was aware that in order to get Sergio’s help she would have to be very persuasive. Caprice smiled. It wouldn’t be too difficult. Sergio’s cock is really thick, and luckily for Caprice, his brain is even thicker. She knew just the way to persuade Sergio.

  Sandra tapped her pen against her daily planner, her thoughts miles away. She was surprised that Katherine had already left for the day. Katherine was such a workaholic, plus there was loads of work regarding the Cosmo hotel project.

  Alex not in today. Katherine leaving early. You didn’t have to be a genius to figure it out, Sandra thought ruefully.

  Poor Katherine, she mused. She has no idea who she’s getting involved with.

  Sandra knew. Sandra knew because she had been there and done that, unfortunately. She and Alex had slept together, years ago. It was just one night, nothing more, during a stressful period in Sandra’s life during which she was going through her divorce. She had turned to Alex for support, and it just kind of happened. Sandra thought it might lead to something more, but Alex made it clear to her that he was not interested in a relationship.

  They were able to remain on good terms, and Sandra continued working for Alex, although, at times it was difficult, she had to admit. Harry absolutely did not know about her one night stand with Alex – and she hoped he never would. It would cause too much friction at home, and Harry would insist she find employment elsewhere. Besides, it happened years ago, when she first started working for Alex. It was water under the bridge in Sandra’s mind. Well……most of the time. Occasionally, she would allow herself to remember their one night of passion, replaying the night over in her mind. It was the best sex Sandra ever had. Alex was an incredibly skilled lover, bringing her to orgasm three times that night. She still became aroused every time she thought about it.

  Sandra’s concern for Katherine was sincere - she genuinely didn’t want Katherine to get hurt. She recalled the heartache she felt after Alex. He was not unkind about it, and insisted that he wanted to maintain their professional relationship, but he made it very clear to her that it was a one night only affair. Sandra accepted this, thinking that maybe one day Alex would change his mind. He didn’t. Sandra sat back and watched him go through one woman after another, and there was no telling how many she didn’t know about. Sandra slowly began to realize it was for the best – Alex had done her a favor. She moved on, began dating, and finally met Harry.

  Harry was good to Sandra and she loved him dearly. They had been married for two years and they had a nice, comfortable married life together. At times, Sandra longed for more excitement in their marriage, especially in bed, but she knew there was no such thing as having it all. Besides, once the spark and excitement fade, as it always does, what was left was either a true friendship or nothing at all.

  Sandra glanced at her watch. 4:00 pm. She closed her daily planner and picked up her purse. She, too, decided to leave a little early today. Harry had sent her a text, letting her know he was leaving work, and was going to pick up dinner at their favorite Chinese restaurant. Sandra smiled. She was ready to get home to her nice, comfortable married life.

  Chapter 17

  Alex gives me a tour of his countryside home, and surprisingly, it’s quite homey. Initially, I envisioned crystal chandeliers, a winding staircase, marble countertops laced with gold running through it. But, to my pleasant surprise, his country home is very warm and welcoming, with a light, airiness to it. Sunlight pours through the windows, filling up the house with a warm glow. It’s decorated with casual, traditional furniture and fabric. No glass or metal in this home. No stainless steel appliances. In fact, he even has a retro, 1950’s style, pastel blue refrigerator.

  “It came with the house when I purchased it,” Alex informs me. “I liked it so much, I decided to keep it. Wilson tinkered with it, got it working properly again.”

  Wilson, who I met earlier, maintains the property while Alex is away. Early sixties, with kind brown eyes and an easy smile, he looks after the property well. Alex tells me Wilson has always looked after the estate and takes care of the place as if it’s his own.

  Wilson leaves, waving goodbye in his truck, and Alex continues the tour, showing me the property grounds. We walk along a stone path, leading us around to the back of the house. Lush, green ivy climbs the sides of the stone walls. We stroll past pink and white rose bushes, the blooms in full, their scent filling the air. Alex unlatches the gate to a sparkling blue swimming pool.

  We walk together, hand in hand, strolling past the pool, to the back gate, which has a very large lock on the latch. Alex fishes out a key, unlocking the gate. He opens the door and laid out before me are acres and acres of rolling pasture as far as the eye can see. I stand still, not wanting to blink, trying to burn the image before me into my brain forever.

  “Glorious, isn’t it?” Alex says. “Even after all these years, I’m still left speechless every time I see this view.”

  I reach for Alex’s hand, gazing at him while he admires the view, seeming to be lost in thought. After a few moments, Alex turns towards me, grinning from ear to ear. “Come with me. I’ve saved the best for last
.” He gently pulls my hand, leading the way.

  We walk along the rolling green pasture, a light breeze blowing, feeling the sun’s warmth. “Oh, how lovely!” I exclaim, pointing to a wooden barn with white trim. I smile – another reminder of back home in Georgia.

  Alex unlatches the lock, pushing one of the sliding barn doors open, then the other. Its pitch black inside. He switches the overhead lights on, flooding the barn with bright light. The first thing I see is the shiny, dark red floor of the barn. Then – the cars. Not just any cars, either. Parked inside the barn are three vintage sports cars. All parked alongside each other. All sparkling, glittering, polished to perfection. It’s a car fanatics dream come true.

  My jaw drops. “Holy shit!”

  Alex bursts out laughing. “I’m glad you’re impressed.”

  “I was impressed with the Porsche. But, this is……incredible. Where did you get these cars?” I ask, barely able to contain myself.

  “I know a gentleman who specializes in restoring vintage and classic cars. Cars like this have always appealed to me, so when I was able to, I started my collection.”

  And what a collection it is. I walk around to the first car, a hunter green 1961 Jaguar E type. “The Jag was my first purchase,” Alex tells me. “Fully restored, runs like a dream.”

  We walk over to the other two cars, a silver 1956 Mercedes SL 300, and a navy blue 1961 Ferrari 250 GT. Alex gives me a bit of history on each car, and while doing so I can feel the happiness and joy that he gets from his vintage car collection.

  “I’m sure people love coming over to see your collection,” I gush.

  “Maybe people would love to view it, but no one has. No one is allowed in here, not even Wilson. You’re the only person who has seen it.”

  “Are you serious? No one?” I ask, slightly taken aback.

  “No one.”

  “Why me?”

  He shrugs. “This home is my retreat, a place for me to get away from everyone and everything. I never wanted anyone here with me before. Then I met you and…..” he paused, seeming to struggle to find the right words. “Everything changed.”

  “Alex……” I’m at a loss for words. I fall into his arms, and we hold each other tightly. I pull back, my hands cradling his head, our eyes fixed steadily on each other, and I realize I don’t need to say anything.

  Alex reaches down and tenderly wipes a single tear away from the corner of my eye. “Let’s go back inside. Looking at cars makes me famished,” he says, attempting to lighten the mood.

  “Me, too,” I reply, laughing softly. Alex locks up the barn, and we stroll back to the house, taking our time, stopping to watch the sun set.

  Caprice was on fire tonight. Bellisimo’s was packed, the drinks were pouring, and the money was flowing. Flowing right into Caprice’s thong. She felt fantastic, and looked even better. Sergio had fucked her before work, taking her from behind, her favorite position. She climaxed fast, Sergio’s hands all over her breasts, his ten inch cock filling her up completely. Then she sucked him off, just how he likes it. Sucking Sergio always turned her on, this time being no different. Caprice was feeling the afterglow, tingling from head to toe.

  She surveyed the action tonight, her eyes scanning the room. Caprice had been working for only an hour when she saw Sergio saunter into the club. Caprice smiled slyly, narrowing her eyes as she watched Sergio talk to the club manager. She noticed he had been coming to Bellisimo’s more often the past few weeks. Sergio said he just wanted to make sure the club was running smoothly, wanted to ensure the manager was doing his job. Bullshit, thought Caprice. She knew he wanted to keep an eye on her and the men that paid to see her. Sergio was your typical Italian man – possessive, controlling, and jealous. Caprice knew she could manipulate Sergio by using those traits against him and thereby getting what she wanted.

  Caprice worked the pole, wrapping her long legs around it, arching her back, slowly sliding down to the stage floor. She tossed her long dark hair, grabbed the pole, and brought herself up off the floor, ass on display, the tip of her tongue gliding over the silver pole in a most suggestive way. Every man stood up and cheered loudly, clapping and whistling. They couldn’t get enough of Caprice. She glanced at Sergio out of the corner of her eye, knowing he was monitoring her every move.

  She danced seductively, grinding her way around the stage in her sparkly white six-inch platforms, showing off her body, reveling in the attention, while the men stuffed money down her silky white lace thong. It was going to be a very good night for Caprice.

  *

  “Cazzo!! E li fuori, dove cazzo e?” Sergio yelled into the phone. He was not happy. The man he had hired to track Alex McCall was not doing his job as well as he had promised. This upset Sergio – highly. People received special surprises from Sergio when he became upset. Like bullets in their brains or knives slicing into their throat.

  “Where is he?” demanded Sergio, his voice ice cold.

  The man on the other end of the line spoke quickly, trying to make Sergio understand. “He is out of the city with the blonde woman. They left her flat at two o’clock pm, Friday afternoon. He approached the A40. I would have been easily spotted by McCall if I continued to follow him on the motorway. I could not take that chance.”

  Sergio listened to the man, and grudgingly accepted his excuse. Sergio did not want to take any unnecessary chances. He was prepared to take his time with McCall, if need be. Sergio wanted everything to go according to plan – no fuck ups.

  Sergio, his composure regained, placed the phone down quietly. He poured himself a drink and walked outside to the balcony overlooking the pool. Sergio lived in a lavish, three-story, eight bedroom villa outside of Naples, situated along the Amalfi Coast, with stunning views of the sea and mountains. Villa Isabella, he called it, named after his mother. He had a staff of maids and butlers to attend to his every need – almost every need. Caprice attended to the others. Sergio also had a team of bodyguards surrounding the villa at all times.

  It was midnight when he had returned home from Bellisimo’s, the club in full swing. Sergio was not in the best of moods. The reason? Caprice. Sexy, gorgeous Caprice. He watched her on stage earlier tonight, his eyes glued to her while she performed. Sergio thought she was the most alluring woman he had ever met. The way she moved her body made his cock stand to attention like no other woman ever before. Of course, he’d had plenty of women, but there was something about Caprice - she was different. She was seductive and erotic, with a wild magnetism about her. Sergio wanted Caprice all to himself. Sergio thought he had been extremely understanding about her dancing, allowing her to continue to perform. But enough was enough. Caprice was his. It was becoming more and more difficult for Sergio to sit back and do nothing while she pushed her tits and ass in other men’s faces for money.

  The more Sergio thought about it, the more angry and frustrated he became. Caprice would do as he said. Everybody did if they knew what was good for them.

  The man was relieved to get off the phone with Sergio. He knew Sergio wasn’t going to like what he had to report. Tough shit. Greasy, Italian motherfucker, he thought. He would take his time with McCall and the blonde if he needed to. He wasn’t going to put himself in any situation where his cover might be blown. The man had put too much time and energy on it for him to take any unnecessary chances. Besides, he’d already gotten half the money up front. Not that he was doing this for the money. No, money was not the motivation. Something much more powerful and consuming than money. This was about revenge.

  He knew that with McCall he would have to take his time, working carefully and methodically. Otherwise, if McCall got even a slight whiff of anything suspicious happening, he would go underground, never to be found again.

  The man knew all of McCall’s tricks. He would know - many years ago, in what seemed like another lifetime, he had worked side by side with Alex McCall.

  Chapter 18

  “That was delicious,” I say, polishing off a
plate of the best lasagna I’d ever eaten. I was hungrier than I had realized.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Alex replies, sipping his wine while watching me.

  “I did. You really are a fantastic cook. You should give me cooking lessons one of these days,” I say, grinning, running my fingertip over the rim of my glass.

  “I think I could arrange that, if you’d like,” he responds flirtatiously.

  I raise an eyebrow, slowly nodding my head. “Yes. I would like that.”

  Alex leans over and kisses me, cupping my chin, our tongues intertwined. He whispers in my ear, “Let’s go relax on the couch.”

  “Mmm……that sounds good,” I murmur.

  We walk into the living room, and I curl up on one of the comfortable couches, the overstuffed cushions enveloping me with warmth and coziness.

  Alex sits down beside me, curling up next to me, wrapping his arms around me. I lean against him, my hand placed lightly over his chest. “I could get used to this,” I sigh softly.

  “So could I.”

  I look up at Alex, my eyes full of want and need, and I kiss him. Softly at first, then with more intensity. Like a feline in heat, I pounce, straddling him. I pull his shirt up over his head, my hands all over his lean, muscular chest. Alex looks at me, a look of desire mixed with surprise.

  I quickly take my shirt off, not waiting for Alex to do it, tossing it to the floor.

  I feel his manhood pushing against his jeans, wanting to be released. My hips grind against him, teasing him, wanting him to beg for more.

  “Katherine…..” Alex growls my name, his desire as strong as mine. He pushes up my white lace bra, exposing my breasts, my nipples hard and erect. Alex takes my breasts in both hands, caressing, massaging them.

  Unable to hold back any longer, I thrust one of my nipples in his mouth, while he squeezes the other, causing me to gasp with pleasure.