Allure (Forbidden #1)

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Allure (Forbidden #1) Page 17

by Michelle Betham


  She doesn’t say anything, and I really think I’ve gotten through now. We can’t throw this away, not without at least trying to see what kind of a chance we could have. Yeah, OK, so the attraction, initially, was sexual. I mean, come on, you only have to look at her and any man in their right mind would want her. But no matter what she thinks, there’s something else there, some other connection that she’s too busy trying to deny. And once I’m gone she’ll feel it like a dagger to her heart, and she’ll know it was real.

  ‘We got a deal here?’ I murmur, my mouth resting against hers, and I can feel her breath quicken as I press her harder against me. I want to keep hold of her perfect, priceless body for as long as I can.

  ‘We’ve got a deal,’ she whispers, and her smile sends my heartbeat into overdrive. It’s not perfect, it’s not even what I really want, but it’s something. It’s better than her walking out of this room and there not even being a chance that I might see her again. Anything is better than that. I have a chance. And that’ll have to do. ‘I should go, Neal.’

  ‘Kira…’ I know I have to let her go now, but it doesn’t make it any easier. For the past few days all I’ve known is her, and this hotel suite, and a messed-up mix of fantasies I never thought I’d have the chance to live out. All of that, and the fact I was finally able to face up to who I am and why I became the man I’ve been for far too long now. I don’t want to be him anymore. And I don’t want her to be Kira Blu forever. But I have no say over whether she feels the same. I just have to wait it out, and see what happens, but the thought that she might never feel the way I do terrifies me. That’s why I’m finding it so hard to let her go. ‘Thank you.’

  She smiles again, and even though my heart has already shattered, I feel it shatter some more, the pain real and strong. ‘Yeah. Right back at ya, Mr Cannon.’

  She pulls away from me and heads for the door.

  And I get ready to start my life over.

  Kira

  I don’t stop walking until I’m outside of the hotel. And once the bright morning sunshine hits my face it’s like a slap of reality has smashed straight into me, almost winding me with its force. I feel dizzy, and I stop to lean back against the wall, closing my eyes and breathing in deeply.

  Part of me wants to run back inside, jump into his arms and tell him I love him, too. But I’m not sure I do. I’m not sure what I feel. I’m not sure what I want, not really. I just know that, right now, I feel as though a piece of me has been ripped away and I’m going to have to find a way to deal with that.

  He’s given us a chance, and I should be grateful for that. Go live our lives like before, as though the other doesn’t exist, but if we really can’t get past that… We should. We should get past it, take what we can from everything that’s happened and rebuild our fucked-up lives; make them better than they were before, because whatever else this experience has done, I think it’s changed us both. But change is still something I’m scared of, which is why, despite the pain I’m feeling, I’m glad I’m going home now, back to the only life I feel comfortable in. I need that control; that stability. Nothing can hurt me there.

  Kira Blu met a man, and he was kind and handsome and he made her feel alive, after years of feeling dead inside.

  But Kira Blu doesn’t need a man.

  She can do whatever she needs to do on her own.

  Kira Blu doesn’t need a man…

  Nineteen

  Neal

  I walk over to the window and look out over the Manhattan skyline. I’ve got a busy day ahead – two meetings with clients at the office, and this afternoon I’m heading to Staten Island to finalise a trip I’m taking for another client, to Southern Spain. Malaga, I think, and I make a mental note to go over the details before I meet with him later today. I’m slowly getting my head back in the game, but I’m not sure it’s completely there yet.

  I head back into the living room, sit down at my desk and open my emails, staring at them blankly, and it’s about five minutes before I realise that’s all I’ve been doing – staring at the screen.

  Clicking on my bookmarks I scroll down until I find the page I want, and I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I’ve held off for over a week now. I can’t do it any longer.

  Kira’s profile pops up on the screen and I feel my insides knot together as I scan the page, looking for her calendar, which is the last thing I should be doing. But I can’t stop myself. I haven’t done this since I arrived back in New York. I told myself it wasn’t a good idea, and it isn’t, but I miss her, with every beat of my fucking heart and this is the only way I can feel close to her. I want to know if she misses me, too. I want to know if she lies awake at night, like I do, willing sleep to take me in the hope that I can at least dream of her.

  Her calendar’s up, and I check my watch, quickly calculating the time difference in my head. It’s almost ten in the morning here, which makes it around three in the afternoon where she is. I look back at her calendar, and then I look again. She isn’t in Newcastle. She hasn’t been there since the day I left. She’s on tour. And I know what that means in the escort industry. It means she’s based herself in another city for a period of time, giving even more men the chance to do the kind of things to her that I… Shit!

  I drop my head into my hands, pushing them both back through my hair as anger and frustration burns into my soul. She’d told me she didn’t do tours anymore. She told me she didn’t need to; didn’t want to. But she’s on tour now.

  I look back at the screen to see exactly where she is. Manchester. I drop my head into my hands again. Part of me wishes I’d been stronger and stopped myself from doing this, but the bigger part knows I was always gonna do it. And it was always gonna hurt.

  ‘Hey. You OK, bro?’

  I look up sharply to see my brother Barry saunter into the room, displaying his usual brand of carefree swagger – the same kind I’d once had, before Kira Blu had kicked me back to life. ‘I’m fine.’ I quickly log off and close my laptop.

  ‘You working?’

  He looks over my shoulder, but there’s nothing to see now. ‘Y’know, when I gave you a key to this apartment I didn’t expect you to treat it like a fucking hotel. What’s wrong with your own place?’

  ‘This is closer to the club I was at last night. Just thought it made more sense to crash here. So, what’s happening today, then?’

  I get up and throw him a look. He’s fully enrolled into the playboy lifestyle, and I guess that had been me once, too. It just feels like a lifetime ago now. ‘Grab some coffee and let’s go. Come on. I’ll give you a lift to the office.’

  ‘I’ll take my own car. I left it in your garage last night before I went out. Got a lunch date I need to get to in…’ He looks at his watch and grins, ‘a little over two hours.’

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ I sigh, grabbing my jacket and heading for the door. ‘Am I the only one doing any fucking work around here?’

  ‘You sure you’re OK, Neal?’

  I stop and turn around. I’m not really in the mood for a conversation. I just want to get to the office and try and lose myself in something other than thoughts of Kira. ‘I’m fine. Just come to the office before you go anywhere else, you got that? There’s stuff you need to go over.’

  ‘Only, you’ve been a real pain in the ass ever since you got back from the UK. I thought everything went well over there?’

  ‘It did.’

  ‘Work wise, huh?’

  I narrow my eyes as I stare at him. ‘Just get to the office, Barry.’

  ‘Something else happen while you were over there?’

  ‘I’ll see you later.’

  I turn to go, but he’s having none of it. For some reason he feels the need to pursue my mood and it’s fucking irritating.

  ‘Did you have some fun over in England, bro? If you catch my drift…’

  I turn back around and glare at him, and the grin on his face makes me want to slap him hard.

  ‘Some pretty
little English escort fuck you off, huh?’

  I’ve pushed him up against the wall before I even realise what I’m doing, an anger rising up in me I can’t seem to batter down.

  ‘Hey! Jesus, Neal… come on, man…’

  And then it’s gone, just like that, and I let him go, stepping back from him.

  ‘I’m gonna take that as a yes,’ Barry says, brushing himself down. ‘And this shirt cost almost eighty dollars…’

  ‘Shut the fuck up, Barry, OK? And get to work.’

  ‘Someone really did piss you off over there, huh?’

  I stop in the doorway and turn so my forehead rests against the doorpost, closing my eyes and breathing in deep. I can’t do this. I can’t. I don’t think I can.

  ‘Neal?’

  His voice has lost that edge, the one he uses when he’s trying to get a rise out of me. He sounds more concerned now, and that’s probably understandable, given my behaviour since I got back to New York. I’ve been moody, irritable, impatient… It’s got to stop. I’ve got to get over this. I’m not even giving my own plan a chance.

  ‘I’m OK, Barry.’

  I take another deep breath and step back from the doorpost, raking a hand through my hair.

  ‘I guess I’m just feeling a bit tired, y’know?’

  ‘That’s ‘cos you’re working too hard, bro. Ever since you got home that’s all you’ve been doing. You need to cut loose for a night and come out with me, like old times, huh?’

  I look at him. The “old times” he’s talking about were only a few weeks ago, and the reason I haven’t been out is because I haven’t been in the mood. ‘It’s a busy time for the business, Barry, which you’d know, if you turned up on a regular basis.’

  ‘You seriously need to get laid, Neal. Because you really are a pain in the ass when you ain’t getting any.’

  He pushes past me and I watch as he leaves the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Maybe I do need to get laid. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I need to get out there and see what happens. And maybe I just need to say fuck it, and follow my heart…

  Kira

  I lie back on the bed and open my legs, sliding my hand between them as the young, dark-haired man in the room with me looks on. He likes to watch women masturbate; that was his request when he booked me, to watch me masturbate. And if that’s how he wants to spend his money, that’s fine with me. I can do without another reason to fake another orgasm. I can do without another strange cock inside me. At least when I’m bringing myself off I actually climax for real.

  I plunge my fingers deeper into my wet pussy, closing my eyes as I stroke myself slowly, because I know exactly where to touch. The fact someone is watching me do it means nothing; I’ve done this in front of so many men over the years I’m immune to it all. I’m like a robot going through the motions. And I still manage to get the release I’m looking for; something that keeps both me and the client happy.

  My eyes are closed, but I can hear him groaning as he watches me, and I arch my back, pushing my breasts out as I move my fingers around inside myself, and all I can think about is Neal.

  I run my other hand lightly over my breasts, the heel of my palm grazing my aching nipples, and he’s still there, invading my thoughts. The memory of him fucking me in every way possible fills my head and I moan out loud, plunging my fingers even deeper inside myself.

  I can still hear my client’s groans, but I’m not acting now. Everything I’m feeling is real, because I’m thinking about Neal. As I run my hand back down over my stomach, I’m thinking about Neal. As I stroke my clit I’m thinking about Neal, and the way he touched me, the way his tongue would probe and dive into me and bring me to the most incredible orgasm.

  ‘Oh God!’ I cry out as I begin to feel those white-hot tingles start their climb, creeping up my legs, across my inner thighs until they eventually sweep over me in a torrent of waves, one after the other, and I cry out and push my fingers deeper inside, and all the time I’m thinking about Neal. Neal Cannon; the man who won’t leave me alone, even though he’s thousands of miles away now. Where he needs to stay.

  I keep my eyes closed as those waves subside and my breathing slowly returns to normal, opening them only when I finally withdraw my fingers and sit up, keeping my legs apart as I give my client one last bonus. Bringing my fingers to my lips I slide them into my mouth and taste myself, and his reaction is as expected. He has his cock in his hand and he’s bringing himself off as I suck on my fingers, but it doesn’t take him long to explode into the pile of tissues he’s holding. This is a rented apartment. He doesn’t get to make a mess on the floor.

  ‘Jesus, Kira, they weren’t kidding when they said you were hot!’

  I just smile, stand up and walk naked into the bathroom. Yeah, I’m hot. I have to be. It’s my job to play that part, to be that woman every man wants. But sometimes it’s exhausting.

  Closing the bathroom door behind me I quickly pee and wash myself before I go back out into the bedroom.

  ‘Would you like to take a shower before you leave?’ I ask, because some clients like to wash the betrayal away, or just clean up before they go back out into the real world.

  ‘Yeah, thanks.’ He smiles at me; a friendly smile, and I’m grateful that I very rarely get a man who’s impolite. And this one is a lot younger than my usual clients. I think he gave his age as twenty-eight, which is right on the cusp of my lower limit. I won’t take a booking from anyone younger than twenty-six. My choice. A lot of the girls I know have no upper age limit, but the younger the men are the more awkward the whole encounter could become. And we haven’t always got time for awkward.

  I wait until I hear the shower start up before I walk over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. A full-length mirror is a must in my world. A lot of men like to watch themselves fucking me standing up, especially if they’re doing it from behind. Whatever gets them off.

  Cocking my head slightly, I run a hand across my breasts, biting down on my lip as I touch my nipples, moving it down so my fingers skim over my tattoo, down to my hip. Neal used to touch me so gently sometimes it almost felt as though he was barely connecting with my skin. And then there were times when I felt everything; when his fingers would dig into my flesh and leave their mark long after the fucking was finished. I want to forget about Neal Cannon, I really do, but it’s hard. This job, what I do, it’s how I met him. It’s what brought us together. So every day is a constant reminder. I thought leaving Newcastle for a while and coming here, to Manchester, I thought that would help, and it has, to a point. But he’s still there, in my memories, in my dreams. He’s still there.

  I get dressed, but until my client leaves the apartment getting dressed means I pull on a short, sheer black slip-dress to make sure he gets his money’s worth until the second he walks out the door.

  ‘How long are you here in Manchester, Kira?’

  I swing around to see him standing in the doorway, still naked and damp from his shower. He’s attractive, in fact, he’s pretty fit and I don’t even know why he feels the need to visit women like me, he could have anyone. But he does nothing for me. None of them do. Or none of them did, until Neal Cannon.

  ‘A couple more days.’

  ‘Can I see you again?’

  He gets dressed, and I’m relieved this day is over now. It’s been a long one, probably too long, but that’s my fault. I need to keep busy, and this is how I do it.

  ‘You know what to do.’ I smile. He’s nice. He didn’t ask for much, and he seems satisfied, so I’ve done my job.

  ‘OK, well, take care, alright? And I’ll see you again. Soon, hopefully.’

  I lead him to the door, quickly kiss him goodbye and shut it behind him. He’s my last client of the day, and I’m looking forward to a shower and a drink and some mindless TV.

  My phone rings and I stop to pick it up before I head towards the bathroom.

  ‘You on your own?’

  It’s Joey.

&n
bsp; ‘Would I have answered the phone if I wasn’t?’

  ‘I don’t know, do I? For all I know you could be in the middle of a particularly boring shag and talking to me is one way of getting through it quicker.’

  ‘What do you want, Joey?’

  ‘How do you fancy pizza and a bottle of Prosecco before we hit the town for a night of drinking and dancing?’

  ‘You’re here? In Manchester?’

  ‘Yes, angel, I’m here. We both are. You know how me and Benni love a night down Canal Street, so, we’ve taken some time off from Bam-Bams and come to see you.’

  Benni is Joey’s partner. They’ve been friends for ages, we all have, ever since Benni joined the gang at Bam-Bams a few years back, but over the past few weeks he and Joey have drifted towards something more than friendship, and I’m happy for them. Really happy. And I love Benni. He’s so much fun, so spending time with these two isn’t going to be a chore. As long as Joey doesn’t spend the entire time nagging me. I’m hoping Benni being here will stop him from doing too much of that, because I’ve had enough of it over this past week, and that was just over the phone. Leaving Newcastle didn’t spare me any of that.

 

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