Deliciously British

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Deliciously British Page 54

by Scarlett Avery


  “Xander wasn’t away. He was at the auction and at the cocktail party with Ethan.” I take a sip of my now lukewarm coffee to avoid holding her gaze for too long.

  “Oh, I see. I guess I was wrong. You didn’t get any action last night. Oof.” She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. “It brings me comfort to know that I wasn’t the only one riding a dry spell.”

  “Well…” How long can keep this charade going?

  “Well, what?” she presses.

  “I don’t think we’re in the same boat.”

  “What exactly are you saying, Delilah?” she asks carefully.

  Do I tell her? Do I not tell her? For a few brief seconds I dance from one foot to the other and then I let the floodgates open. “I allowed two men to fuck me back to back in a conference room in the middle of a chichi event with a room full of wealthy guests and of course let’s not forget that my co-workers, my boss and the owner of the gallery were also present. Yeah, I was channeling the porn star in me while they were all only a few feet away,” I blurt out. Talk about ripping the Band-Aid off. Seriously, I needed to get that off my chest. It’s not like I can wake Maggie up in the middle of the night to confess my sins. Jackie’s been down this road, she’ll understand.

  My roommate’s eyebrows hit her forehead. Then she frowns and her mouth gapes open. She closes it and now she’s batting her eyelashes at me. Uh-oh. She’s now crinkling her nose as if the smell of week-old garbage is permeating throughout the apartment. She repeats this series of facial expressions a few times before anything comes out of her mouth. “You did what?”

  “You heard me the first time.” My shoulders drop. “I don’t think I can say that again aloud.”

  “Well, you can’t drop news like that without putting it in context. I think you need a second cup of coffee, and I need to spike my first one with some whiskey in order to be able to absorb this kind of news this early in the morning. Baileys just won’t do today. It’s simply not strong enough.”

  I swat her arm. “Of all the people out there, I thought you would understand. I was hoping you’d be only one who wouldn’t judge me.”

  “Girlfriend, I’m not judging. Are you kidding me? It’s two-nil. I’m extraordinarily envious.”

  Now it’s my turn to crinkle my nose. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s easy mathematics. You got two cocks last night and I got none.” We both explode in laughter. “Come on,” she says, pulling me by the arm. “Since we both have the time—”

  “But—”

  “You have three hours before you need to be at work, Delilah.”

  “I guess.”

  “We’re going to have a leisurely breakfast and you’re going to spill your guts.”

  “Whatever happened to you getting in early and knocking things off of your to-do list?”

  “If I’m not going to get any cock for the next few days, I have no other choice but to live vicariously through you. That boring work stuff can wait. I want to hear all about your toe-curling evening.”

  * * *

  It’s too early for a heavy breakfast so Jackie and I settle for buttered toast, jam and a hard-boiled egg. Since Jackie had baked some banana bread to take to Nathan’s place, we nibble an extra loaf she made while sipping on more hot coffee. True to her word, Jackie did spike her drink. She tried to convince me to follow in her footsteps, but honestly with everything that’s going on in my life, I need to keep a level head. Therefore, I opted for some cream and sugar in my coffee instead of a half-ass version of an Irish coffee. Yeah, you guessed it, Jackie didn’t miss the opportunity to put a generous amount of Irish whiskey in her coffee. She swears up and down that she skipped the heavy cream for the sake of simplicity and because she didn’t need the calories, but we both know it’s a lie.

  While we munch on our breakfast, I tell her everything—from what I wore, to rubbing elbows with so many wealthy people, to spotting my two British lovers across the room looking as drop-dead gorgeous as always, to receiving Xander’s text message, to me tiptoeing away from the action to make my way to the office areas of the auction house, to me being so desperate to feel the touch of the two men who have been unraveling me since the first day I met them that I left all common sense at the door and allowed them to do unspeakable things to me. Things that I really, really, really enjoyed. During my story, Jackie listens, she nods, she gasps and she even claps her hands joyfully a few times at some of the more salacious parts of my story. When I finish, I sit up and await her verdict.

  “That was one heck of a sexy tale.” She shakes her head. “Thanks for sharing. After that deluge of sauciness, I’m definitely going to need a date with my vibrator before I go to work.”

  We both laugh.

  “So you don’t think I’m a tramp, a slut, an immoral woman because of last night?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Really? So you haven’t lost all respect for me? I mean I know you’ve been with two guys, but it doesn’t mean you’ve engaged in public acts of indecency.”

  “Maybe not with David and Eric, because everything was so new with them. We kept what we shared behind closed doors. That said, if you recall, I did confess to having been a particularly bad girl in the private rooms at Hush.” I nod at the recollection. “Don’t think I haven’t walked on the wild side. I’ve had a few romps on airplanes—I’ll admit as risky as it may be, it’s not the most comfortable. I’ve definitely had my share of fucks in public bathrooms in Europe and in America. Staircases can be a little tricky, but I can cross that off of my list. It was a regular hangout for my little afternoon interludes with one of the partners of the firm I used to work for while I was living in New York. While we’re at it, I should confess that during the time I was dating a particularly wealthy guy who owned the upper floor of a building, we used to make a habit of having noisy sex on his balcony. Sometimes we’d even go at it in the middle of the day on a Sunday. Since the buildings here in London aren’t nearly as tall as they are in New York, there was always a chance that we might get caught. So as you can see, I’m not a nun.” No, she’s not. “I have no right to judge.”

  “Wow. Here I thought I was living on the edge, but you’re far more daring than I’ll ever be.”

  Jackie shrugs. “It’s all about pleasure.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Did you enjoy it?” Jackie’s question surprises me.

  I speak from the heart. “More than words can say.”

  “Did you get your jollies off?”

  “Did I ever.” I let out a very long sigh before allowing my head to drop behind me. That’s enough to take me back to last night.

  “It seems your body—and your mind—still haven’t recovered,” Jackie observes. She’s right on the money. I open my eyes and meet hers. “Everyone at that cocktail party is none the wiser, Delilah. You didn’t get caught. It was all about your pleasure,” she emphasizes the point she made earlier, “and theirs.” Was it ever. “Honestly, if you got an orgasm or two out of it, who cares.”

  “You’re too funny. You’re right about one thing though, I don’t understand how my body keeps reacting like that to them.”

  “It’s simple. I think the three of you were just meant to be together.”

  “Hmph.” I shoot her a side glance.

  “What?” She asks.

  “Ethan has been saying that since the beginning.”

  “Do you think he’s wrong?”

  “Now I believe him.” I pause. “Hmph.”

  “Okay, you just said that twice in the last few seconds. Why do I sense there’s more?”

  “I really like them.” I whisper those words.

  Jackie doesn’t respond immediately. Unable to meet her eyes after my confession, I just fiddle with my cup. Finally she says, “You like them as in you never want the sex to end because it’s filthy delicious, or you like them as in you want more and you’re falling for them?”

  Considering I’ve only been living
with Jackie for a short time, she’s surely perceptive. I don’t answer her question directly. “The shitty thing about my story is that it goes from being a fairytale to a lowly pumpkin at the end of the summer. Then I’m back in New York and back in the vortex of dreadful dating cycles.” I shiver at the thought. I’m seriously going to have to consider this whole nunnery option. Abstinence is definitely better than bad sex.

  “Well, a lot can happen before autumn arrives at our door. Even if your romance was only meant to be a season, embrace it, honey.”

  I shake my head. “Maggie says the same thing.”

  “Your cousin is talking from the standpoint of someone who loves you and cares about you. Take it from someone who’s been in your shoes, and who also cares about you—enjoy this gift God gave you. I only had thirty unforgettable days with David and Eric, but I cherish every single one of the memories I share with them. I think that’s what you should focus on.”

  I have to admit that I’m scared shitless to give myself wholeheartedly like this, but Jackie’s words make me want it all.

  CHAPTER 48

  Ethan

  Since there’s so much for my team and I to do, I paid an astronomical amount of money for a one-day trip to the French Riviera. Being away for long stretches of time could seriously compromise some of the projects we’re working on. I can’t take that chance right now. The auction that took place a week ago brought in so much new business. The smashing success of that night has traveled far and wide. My entire team can barely keep up. As a result, clients are clamoring to meet me because they want to be ready for when Calysta ships over her next collection.

  That’s how I ended up having lunch overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, sitting on a very large terrace belonging to one of the two insanely wealthy Nice-based long-time clients I met with today. Although this was a phenomenal day for me because both of them want to bypass the frenzy and commission pieces from the American artist—they each want two giant paintings, which means nice bonuses for me—I’m glad to be back in London. As thrilled as I am at this influx of money, I must admit that work was the last thing on my mind during the flight back home. The only thing I could think of was Delilah and how much I fucking miss her. In fact, flashbacks of the last time we shared her kept me company during the ride from the airport. I’m sure the driver must have gotten a kick out of the devilish smile I couldn’t seem to erase from my face. He might not know what was going through my mind, but I suspect he had a pretty good idea. I can’t believe it’s already been two and a half weeks since Xander and I started devouring her. Due to her workload, we’ve had to go without her for a few days, but when we’re together again, it’s magic. Fuck, she’s a hot little lover.

  Lucky for me, at this late time of the day, the traffic is a non-issue. I’m able to get back home fairly quickly. Thank God, considering how much I’ve been consumed with my need to talk to my best friend. The second I walk through the door, I don’t waste a minute. I can’t seem to shake this thought that’s taken hold of me since I left this morning. The flight back home only reinforced what I suspect could be a turning point for the three of us. I can’t wait to hear what Xander has to say about my idea.

  Impatient, I run up the stairs to my bedroom, kick off my shoes, remove my silk socks, peel out of my white shirt and strip out of my Italian-made navy-blue pinstripe suit. Day trips are taxing because I tend to catch the first flight out and I always return on the last one. That said, the fact that I don’t have to deal with packing or unpacking is definitely a plus. Since my time is limited, I tend to cram as much as humanly possible. That’s why I’m so drained right now. I need a drink.

  With only my black boxer briefs left, I make my way to the chair in the corner of my bedroom and grab the casual clothing that’s been sitting there since last night. I jump into a pair of worn-out jeans and pull a faded grey t-shirt over my head. I don’t even bother with shoes, trainers or flip-flops. I run back down to Xander’s place, eager to share my thoughts with him. I don’t need to text him because I already know he’s eagerly awaiting my return. I forewarned him that we needed to have a conversation, but it had to be face-to-face.

  When I turn the corner from the glass room leading into Xander’s living room, the soulful voice of a female artist I don’t recognize plays in the background. Wow. That’s one talented singer. Since it’s already ten o’clock and Xander has had a full day, I’m willing to bet that he’s comfortably seated on his plush sofa with his feet stretched in front of him and a stiff drink in hand. Heck, if I were home, I’d be doing the same thing.

  When he sees me, he greets me with a wide grin. “I know you haven’t been gone that long, but it’s still good to see that you’re back.” He drops his glass on the coffee table in front of him, stands up and takes a few steps to meet me.

  “Same here, Xander.” I take him in a bro-hug. “Who’s singing?” I ask when we break our embrace.

  “Her stage name is Melody Blue, but her real name is Melody Copley. She’s from Dublin. Just like your parents, her dad is an Afrikaner. He’s also a musician. She told me that her paternal grandfather was a popular singer back in the days. Her mum is an accomplished concert violinist from Leitrim—Ireland’s smallest county. Music runs through this girl’s veins.”

  “I can attest to that.” I grin. “Have you signed her?” Xander is a smooth shark when it comes to business. There’s no way he would let this one go.

  “The courier dropped off the signed contract at my office at four o’clock this afternoon.” He grins proudly. “There were other agents vying for her attention with a lot more clout than I have, agents who boast a long list of multiple top 100 artists they manage, but she ignored them all.”

  “What was the determining factor?”

  “I wasn’t interested in turning her into another trashy pop singer clad in barely-there outfits who’s been conditioned to expose all her goodies on Instagram and on video. No one remembers those types of fly-by-night wannabes in a year’s time. Yes, Melody is gorgeous and she has a body that could stop traffic, but that’s just icing on the cake. There’s far more to her.”

  “I know you think you don’t have as much influence as some of your peers-slash-competitors, but your years in the industry carry a lot of weight. You know what it’s like behind the curtain. We’ve seen too many girls be transformed into sexpots and then fade away as one-hit wonders.”

  “Thanks for saying that. I do bring to the table a perspective that few of my counterparts have. And no, that’s not the kind of future I see for this fresh-faced Dubliner. I guess that’s what did it because Melody is officially mine and I intend on making sure she has an explosive career because she’s oozing with talent.”

  “That she is, mate.”

  “You must be hungry, unless you stopped by somewhere for a bite before coming home.”

  “I came down here in search of a drink, but your proposition sounds much better. I haven’t eaten anything since lunch and the snack they served on the flight barely made a dent in my stomach. Did you cook or is it takeaway food?” I wouldn’t pass it by Xander to end a grueling day by coming home and cooking up a storm.

  “Nah, I was too exhausted to even chop up an onion, let alone prepare a whole meal. Not to mention that I was in the mood for something very British to celebrate my win, so I stopped by Just Roast and picked up their lamb and beef platter.”

  “That sounds amazing.” My growling stomach confirms it and we both laugh. “I haven’t been there in a while. I have a feeling that meal is going to go down nice and easy. The thought alone makes me hungrier than I already was.”

  Just Roast is a simple eatery that serves a modern take on traditional British dishes. It’s the next best thing to the slaving all day in front of a hot oven.

  “That’s what I thought. Of course, a classic British meal wouldn’t be complete without the proper dessert.”

  “It would be a crying shame to skip sweets.” I match his formal tone.
/>   “I knew we’d see eye to eye on that one. That’s why I also grabbed a few spotted dicks. I haven’t had those in ages.”

  “Neither have I. Great call, Xander.” Nothing screams British more than those little puddings made with dried fruits and served with custard.

  When my stomach growls again Xander places a hand against my back and taps me a few times. “Come on, let’s go put something in your stomach before you pass out.” He chuckles. I follow him to his kitchen and when we get there, he heads straight to the refrigerator and like always, I bypass the beautiful wooden table in favor of a spot at his marble island. After putting the food in the oven, Xander struts towards me with a bottle of red in one hand and two glasses in the other. He lifts both hands up in a question. “You said you were in need of liquor?”

  I smile wide. “You are a very good friend.”

  “And you think I don’t already know that?” His feigned smugness cracks me up. “From your text messages I thought you had a great day, but if you’re that desperate for libation, maybe I misread you.” He pours a generous amount of wine in my glass before sliding it towards me.

  “It was an outstanding day.” I wait for him to fill his glass before lifting mine. “Cheers. Here’s to my kickass trip and to you signing a woman with the voice of an angel.”

  “Cheers. I’ll definitely drink to that.” We both take a swig of the French Bordeaux wine. For a few seconds nothing else matters other than the richness and complexity of the dark-colored elixir flirting with my taste buds.

  “Wow, this is absolutely perfect,” I cheer.

 

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