London Falling (The Falling Series)

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London Falling (The Falling Series) Page 3

by Audrey Carlan


  “More than anyone,” I assured him. He smacked my towel covered ass. “Ouch!”

  “Good. Now get moving. We have one full day together and I’m not letting any of it go to waste. “

  I heard the shower turn back on as I entered my walk-in closet. My relationship with Tripp was unconventional but it was mine and I wouldn’t change it.

  Instinctively, I thought back to last night when I kissed Collier. Gooseflesh broke across my skin. Just the memory of the man’s lips and body against mine had my nerve endings thrumming. I could imagine his essence surrounding me, making me feel whole again. It’d had been a few weeks since I’d been with a man. Briefly I wondered how long it would take him to find me. Would he even seek me out? I had a strong feeling he would. That kiss was memorable to say the least.

  ***

  London Kelley. I couldn’t get the bloody bird out of my head. Visions of her invaded my thoughts throughout the horrendous week. For days I’d dealt with a celebrity debacle with one of our rock stars destroying a New York hotel suite. Apparently daft, coked-up rock stars thought it funny to use a flat screen telly to slide down the stairs of a posh two story penthouse in downtown Manhattan. Same blokes escorted slappers scantily dressed through the hotel lobby and proceeded to publicly shag them in the lifts. Each member of the band was arrested on public indecency and vandalism charges after the hotel concierge called the cops on them. Of course we settled out of court and paid the hotel off, leaving me with a mountain of paperwork, but they will pay the firm for it in spades. It reminded me I needed a legal assistant.

  Hearing a soft knock on the door, I lifted my head to see Nathaniel standing with his overcoat, ready to leave for the day. “Cheerio, old mate.”

  “Hey Nathaniel, I need a favor.”

  He entered my office and sat in one of the plush leather armchairs. “Anything, old chap.”

  “Bollocks, I’m not that old!” Ever since we were little boys he would complain that he was younger. Now that we’re adults he constantly reminded me of that fact, though lately I’ve felt well beyond my thirty years.

  “You act old. When was the last time you had a good shagging or went off on a bender?”

  “The former is none of your business, the latter well, I could use a good night with me mates, yeah?”

  “This weekend, we’ll call a couple lads, maybe pick up some ladies and have a good time. I want to introduce you to a new buddy of mine, Hank Jensen. He’s dating a client of ours, remember Aspen Reynolds?” His light brown hair fell over his forehead as he waggled his brows and grinned.

  “You’re incorrigible. But speaking of women, I’d like to get in touch with London Kelley.” I focused on the papers in front of me and tried to look as nonchalant as possible.

  “You fancy Ms. Kelley, yeah?” His smirk was undeniable as he pulled out his cell phone. He grabbed a notecard and pen and copied her telephone number onto it, along with her address. “Just call that number there, and Bob’s your uncle! You’ve got her.”

  “Thanks mate. I think I will. There’s just something about this girl.”

  “Well, she’s a fit bird,” he said. “Brilliant choice. You know, Aspen Reynolds is her sister. If calling doesn’t work, maybe I could plan a meeting with Hank and Aspen, have her bring along her sister.” With that he stood and saluted as he left.

  I stared at the phone number on the notecard. Brilliant choice indeed. Scanning the number I made the call. A deep male voice answered on the second ring. “Hello?” It surprised me because I thought London was unattached. It was entirely possible, bloody likely that she had a man in her life.

  “Hello. Yes, I was hoping to speak with Ms. Kelley.” A glance at the clock told me it was six in the evening. Perfectly respectable time to receive calls.

  “She’s with a client. Is this her James Bond?” the man asked. I now recognized the voice as Tripp Devereaux.

  “I’m sorry?” I answered confused.

  “You’re the Brit we met at the Maxwell reveal last week, right? The one who had his tongue down my girl’s throat if I remember correctly?” His tone was filled with mirth but it jangled my nerves, making me feel the need to explain.

  “Tripp, she made it clear that the two of you were not a couple, mate. I’m sorry if I misunderstood.” The pencil I was holding was neatly broken in half.

  Did she lie to me? Why would she lead me on if she was in a relationship? Perhaps she wanted to make him jealous?

  A full-bellied laugh came across the phone line. “We’re not a couple.” His voice still contained hints of humor which had my ire building. “London doesn’t do the couple thing, Mr. Bond.”

  “It’s Collier, Tripp. What do you mean; London doesn’t do the couple thing?”

  “It means, she is not in a relationship, nor does she do relationships. She prefers to stay unattached.”

  “I see. When will she be home?” I didn’t really see what he meant. Far from it, actually. The little bits I picked up about Ms. Kelley only gave me introspection on how complex the woman was.

  “Don’t know. You’ve reached her home and office. However, when she’s staying with a client I’m not sure when she’ll be home. If you’d like to give me your number, I can get her a message.”

  I rattled off my phone number and rang off with Tripp. Such an odd duck, that one. If she’s not home, why was he answering her phone? Did he live with her? Everything about this woman was a mystery, one I was becoming more and more determined to solve.

  ***

  “Sweetheart, I know you’re hurting.” His eyes held a longing that would not be fulfilled.

  “James, I just… this is so unfair. There hasn’t been enough time…”

  “London, you have to be strong. I know you can. You’re going to be fine. And one day, you will see our time together as a beautiful memory.”

  “No. I’ll never get over you.”

  His eyes smiled until it reached his lips. “Sweetie Pie, it’s not fair to hold your love away from another. I don’t want that for you.”

  “It’s true; you’ve ruined me for all others. I wish…”

  “Shhhh, London, don’t waste wishes that were not meant to come true. Someday, you will be loved.”

  “London, are you hungry?” Dylan’s voice cut through my daydream.

  My newest client was the perfect gentleman and host. And as Tripp expected, boring. Investment banking did not provide much excitement in his life. He lived a sheltered, mundane lifestyle. His world had little entertainment.

  I smiled to myself. This was going to be so much fun. The man needed excitement in his life and I was just the right woman to give it to him. He had no idea what he was in for but he’d love every minute of it, once I got past his reserved nature.

  “I asked if you were hungry.” Dylan smiled wide when he found me sitting on the bed in his guestroom.

  “Sorry, you caught me daydreaming. Yes, famished. What did you have in mind?” I stood up and took one last glance at the journal I’d been reading when the memory overcame me. No more thoughts of James today. Time to have a little fun.

  “Oh, I’m open. You’re the guest.” His gaze skimmed my body so quickly I almost didn’t notice it. His breathing became labored. Every so often he’d take a deep breath. Desire filled the room like a hazy smoke around him. He wanted me. It was a heady feeling knowing a man wanted to mate with you.

  I tilted my head to the side and gauged his vibe. Telltale waves of his desire prickled the hair on the back of my neck. Oh, it was going to be fun getting him to loosen up. Besides, best way to get over a man was to get under another. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. When I was with a man, feeling his pleasure, receiving my own…I wasn’t alone anymore.

  “What if I told you that I was hungry, but not for food?” My hands found their way to the tie at my neck holding up my halter dress. I pulled the string and let the fabric fall, exposing my bare breasts. I slid my hands over each globe massaging and tweaking t
he nipples to elongate and darken them. His eyes filled with heat and need.

  He groaned. “Uh, uh, shit!”

  The inability to form actual words versus caveman-speak was a good sign. He was interested. And I deserved a little slice of relief and distraction. The man wasn’t gorgeous but he was very good looking. Tall, handsome and he had a great big heart. I’d enjoy his body, help him find his way, fix his disastrous home and be gone in four weeks.

  His green eyes sparkled when I shimmied out of my dress, leaving only a wisp of lace covering my lady parts. “How about this? Let’s satisfy one hunger and then I’ll let you buy me a fat bowl of pasta! Whaddya say?”

  His head moved up and down as he licked his lips. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Well, believe it buddy. It’s time you had some fun.” I climbed on the bed and lay down. “Come here big guy; show me what you’ve got.”

  After we’d sated one hunger, he took me to a little hole in the wall, mom and pop Italian restaurant. The food was served ’family style’ which I appreciated, not ever having family style dinners at the Bright-Reynolds home. Mom and Dad were not the type to sit around a table and share a meal. They had servers and perfectly polite dinner conversations each night as if it was pre-planned and read from ’The Guide to High Society Eating.’

  My sister Aspen and I railed against the debutante lifestyle. My brother Rio, on the other hand, was the perfect little rich boy snob, making my Mother’s crusty heart swell with pride.

  Out of all of us, Aspen was the impressive one. She was worth billions but currently was on the outs with Mommy Dearest due to her choice to live out of wedlock with a country boy from Texas. I didn’t blame her. Hank was hot and loved her enough to move to New York to be with her.

  Thinking of Aspen reminded me how much I missed my sister. I hadn’t seen her in weeks. She’d had a falling out with Hank then reconciled a couple months ago. I felt bad for not having reached out to her sooner. I’m sure Hank and work was keeping her very busy. An uncomfortable feeling crept up my spine reminding me to reach out to her later this evening.

  “So, do you always do what you, uh, did?” Dylan pulled me from my thoughts. He seemed nervous, which was funny seeing as we’d just licked and kissed every surface of one another’s body less than an hour ago.

  “Do what? Sleep with my clients?”

  He looked down at his bowl of spaghetti. His face turned beet red. “Yeah.”

  I laughed long and hard. “No. Not all of them. I have many clients. I’ve had sex with a few over the years. If I’m interested, they’re unattached, and it feels right, then sure. Why not? I’m pretty sure you had a good time.” My lips twitched, remembering how his body arched and tightened with release.

  “Fuck, yeah!” He half-yelled.

  I smiled. He was already losing some of that reserve. Profanity was only the tip of the iceberg.

  “I just didn’t know how this works,” he continued.

  “Well, let me explain it to you. I spend the next twenty six days living with you. I follow you around, figure out your likes and dislikes, in the home and in your life. It helps me design a space that will provide you with what you need to add more value to your inner being. Today, you needed to get laid and I wanted to get laid. That was a bonus.” I shot him a wink and he grinned. “There’s really nothing more complicated than that.” I took a big swallow of my water and waited for him to respond.

  “So does this mean we’re dating?”

  Oh no. Not a good sign. The last thing I needed was another stray following me around like a long lost puppy dog. It reminded me of the Andrew debacle all over again. Mentally I added a reminder to make sure that restraining order was still in place. He hadn’t cropped up in the last couple months so maybe he’d finally gotten the hint that he was going to go to jail if he kept up the stalking.

  “No. Absolutely not. I do not date. Relationships are not an option.”

  Dylan looked away and winced.

  “Dylan, it’s not you. I plan on fully enjoying our time together but you cannot get attached to me romantically. Do you understand?”

  “Not really. But I did have a really good time.” He smiled presenting even white teeth. He was getting more handsome by the moment. I would definitely enjoy breaking him out of his shell.

  “I did, too. And if we’re going to continue to have good times like this afternoon, I have to know you understand there are no strings attached. Once our month is up, I will leave and hopefully we can continue to be friends.”

  “So, you’re offering a month of guilt free sex and a redesigned home?”

  “Exactly. Now you’re getting it.” I was proud of my ingénue. When I was through with him he will have matured, have a better understanding of what he needs to move forward in finding his heart’s desire. On top of that he’d have a lovely renovated condo to come home to. “Just remember, what we have is casual. You’re free to date and be intimate with whomever you want. As am I. We’re not in a committed relationship. We’re just friends…with benefits.” His brows crinkled and then a slow grin slipped over his lips. “Understood?” I had to clarify with him. I might enjoy men but I didn’t want to lead him on. Besides, a sexy Englishman’s sculpted face kept coming to mind, reminding me of new possibilities.

  “Clear as day. I’m in baby. Let’s finish up; I’m ready for another bout with my newest guilty pleasure.”

  “Now you’re talking!” The waiter came at just that moment. We both said, “Check please!” and laughed all the way back to his apartment. We spent the rest of the night screwing until dawn.

  After the first week, I called to check in with Tripp. He answered on the fourth ring, completely out of breath.

  “Hello handsome. Did you take up running in your spare time?” I asked knowing full well what he must be doing.

  I could almost hear his grin through the phone. “Yeah and I’m enjoying a tall, blond, drink of water as we speak. What’s up? Kind of in the middle of something.”

  “Just checking in with my best man. Anything to report on the home front?”

  “Mmmm that’s…fuck yeah…right there…” He groaned into the telephone.

  “Tripp! Push the blond off your cock and talk to me.”

  “You’re killing me, Bridge. Hey, Baby, you gotta hold on. I need to talk to...” A rustling sound could be heard then, “Oh, fuck baby…” He started again. I decided it was easier to wait it out. “Uh…oh yeah, fuck right there, uh, uh…” A constant strand of moaning, then, “Yeah, suck it all down like a good girl.”

  Holy hell, I was getting horny just listening to my best friend get off. Looked like I’d be jumping Dylan when he got home from work. I waited a couple more moments for Tripp to get his crap together.

  “Tripp, you done now, Casanova?”

  “Wow, uh yeah. Damn. I might have to keep this one, Bridge. She sucks dick like a Hoover.” He laughed.

  I rolled my eyes. “Man-whore.”

  “Takes one to know one!” he shot back. He had a point. I definitely enjoyed myself.

  “Alright, enough sparring. Anything going on?”

  “The dry cleaning service picked up your clothes and unmentionables. Aspen and Hank are officially engaged. Your bills are paid up for the month. Oh, and James Bond called.”

  Too many thoughts scrambled for attention at once. “Pen’s getting married!” I screeched. “I knew it!” Those two didn’t stand a chance away from one another. My freak-o-meter called that connection immediately. “Oh, that’s fantastic. Did she say when? I’m hoping for next September.” New York was lovely in the fall. “Hey, wait a minute, how did you find out before me?” A sense of sadness swept across my heart squashing the excitement. I shouldn’t have waited so long to call Aspen.

  “Ollie. He was bursting at the seams and couldn’t keep a secret. Aspen was yelling at him in the background as he spilled the beans.” Tripp laughed. “Anyway, according to Ollie it’s going to be fast, as in rig
ht between now and your next client. About five weeks. I wrote it on your schedule. It’s the week before the Walker design.”

  My brain stopped functioning for a second. “I’m sorry. Did you say five weeks or five months? Hell, both are too damned soon. What’s the rush?”

  “I don’t know. She said Hank was adamant and they were getting married at his ranch in Texas, second week in November. She’s flying all of us in her jet.”

  “Wow, I’ll have to call her. Find out what the hell is going on. I mean, I’m happy for her. She found her soul mate.” I had found mine too…then he was gone.

  Shifting gears was necessary. “So what about James Bond?”

  “Surprised you didn’t clue into that first.” He chuckled. I love hearing my guy laugh. “He called and was all thinking we were a couple. Tried to apologize with that sexy assed accent of his.”

  “Did you set him straight?” My voice was clipped, worried.

  “Pretty much. He wants to talk to you. I told him I’d share the message. I’ll text you his number. Are you going to call?”

  Was I going to call? It was a damned good question. I’d thought about the man on and off for over a week now. Dreamt about him most nights, which was unusual for me. I didn’t dream often and when I did dream, it was always about James. That’s why I never talked about it. Tripp would think I was backsliding again.

  That kiss last week was scorching hot. If that was a precursor to what he could do in the bedroom, we’d light the sheets on fire. I couldn’t say no to that chemistry. Just thinking about him had my blood boiling and my body coiling with tension. Yup, was definitely going to jump Dylan when he got home. Burn off some of this excess energy.

  “Earth to Bridge? Hello?” Tripp’s voice cut through the line.

  “Sorry. Yeah, I’ll call him. There was something about him that deserves a little investigating.”

  “Investigating or sex-tigating?” He was making up words again.

  “Stop it,” I teased. “Hey, how about lunch tomorrow? You, me and Pen? Think you could set it up? I’ll be home for the night tomorrow. Client has a business trip to Iowa. Not interested in hanging around while he attends boring meetings surrounded by corn fields.”

 

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