by Nigel May
‘Oops, silly me!’ she slurred. ‘So what’s your name then, handsome?’
‘Paul.’ He raised his glass. ‘Cheers!’
‘Well, hello, Paul! Nice to meet you.’ Sutton held up her glass and tipped it slightly towards him. ‘So, is this your first time being alone in a suite with a woman?’
Paul could feel the cogs of his mind whirring into action. It wasn’t the first time he’d been alone in a hotel room with a customer – most of the room service lads had been propositioned by bored housewives or lonely businesswomen at some point, it was one of the perks of the job. But if he were to add a little extra service into his duties it would normally be with someone that he did actually find attractive and preferably with someone who couldn’t have his tight little ass fired and banned from every Velvet hotel in the world. This was the owner’s wife. Some fruit was both beyond its sell-by date and strictly forbidden.
‘It’s a nice suite. All mod cons,’ he said blandly, unsure of exactly how to respond.
‘Why don’t you come over here, Paul? I appear to have spilled my drink over my dress and it’s soaking through. Can you unzip it for me so I can get it dry?’
Sutton’s light wasn’t just green; it was every shade of sexually charged erotic blue too. It was clear what she was suggesting, and it wasn’t that Paul should take the dress away to have it dry-cleaned.
Paul knew that to refuse would be as good as signing his own dismissal. As he walked towards Sutton he could feel goosebumps spreading across his arms. He wasn’t in the mood for sex and he had no idea what Sutton was – or more to the point, wasn’t – wearing underneath her dress. He tried to conjure images of Brazilian supermodels in his mind’s eye to see if he could stir his cock into action – but he suspected that he might have to use every chapter of his imagination to keep Sutton Rivers happy. Normally his cock would stand to attention at the merest suggestion of a legover, but it had been a long day and the pressure of having to try and please his boss’s wife was not an aphrodisiac. In fact, the thought of potentially displeasing her was a complete turn-off.
Without saying a word, Paul lowered the zip and moved it down Sutton’s back as far as it would go. She swayed from side to side as he did so, the effects of the drink not helping his attempts to manoeuvre the fastening.
‘Ta-dah!’ said Sutton, moving her shoulders so that the dress slid across her dark skin and cascaded down her body and onto the floor, revealing a matching light pink bra and panties underneath.
Whether it was the sight of Sutton’s lingerie or the thought of the Brazilian supermodel still running through his mind, Paul could feel his cock springing into action. Maybe he could go through with this after all. He had to admit that Sutton did have a killer body for a woman of her age and that the underwear was Victoria’s Secret hot.
‘Thank you, Paul,’ smiled Sutton, attempting to lift her feet from the confines of the dress pooled around her ankles. As she lifted one foot, the combination of lack of balance and the alcohol flowing through her veins caused her to stumble backwards. Before she could stop herself she fell flat onto the sofa that was directly behind her. It could just as easily have been a glass coffee table or a marble-topped chest of drawers, but thankfully it wasn’t. As she fell back onto the soft, cosy comfort of the cushions scattered across the sofa, she could feel all the energy and any wanton desire leaving her body: what she needed now was sleep. Body and mind charged headfirst into shutdown. She was motionless, a smile still spread across her face, by the time the cushions underneath her had caressed their way around her body.
For a moment Paul didn’t know what to do.
‘Mrs Rivers, are you okay?’
There was no response.
‘Mrs Rivers?’ Was she sleeping? Paul wasn’t sure.
His answer came as Sutton stirred slightly, a faint rumble of an answer emanating from her lips.
‘Thank Christ for that,’ whispered Paul under his breath, relief at not having to attempt to pleasure his boss’s wife washing over him.
Without saying another word, he tiptoed from Sutton’s suite, trying to close the door behind him as soundlessly as possible. The last thing he wanted was for her to wake up.
16
The sport of boxing had been more than good to Hatton Eden. At the age of twenty-four it had secured him an ultimate championship title, houses around the globe and an untarnished reputation within the sporting world. He was The Main Man. And he was the man with millions of adoring fans who found the Bulgarian fighting machine the ultimate turn-on. His sculpted body and tattooed torso were the stuff of wet dreams and postered walls in every far-flung corner of the planet.
And as he closed the front door of his Shoreditch home behind him he was certain that he clearly had a fan in Sutton Rivers. She had made it more than obvious during their meal together. She was a great lady and good company but if she thought for one second that he wanted to take their conversation away from the table and turn it into pillow talk then she was sorely mistaken. She was twice his age for one.
Not that Hatton had a problem with age, far from it. The simple fact was that he didn’t find Sutton Rivers sexy. She wasn’t his type.
Hatton’s flat was dark apart from the dim glow that came from the top of the stairs. He’d hoped it would still be on. It wasn’t that late but he hadn’t been sure if he would have company on his return. He was glad he did though. Despite his lack of sexual interest in his dining companion, a feeling of horniness had crept across his body from the moment he had stepped into the London mews containing his three-bedroom apartment. There was only one kind of workout he was considering before lights out tonight.
He took his suit jacket off and draped it over the back of a chair, then removed his tie and shirt and did the same. After slipping off his shoes he walked up the stairs towards the light. He didn’t know whether the object of his desire was still awake and so he made as little noise as possible. When he walked into the room Hatton was pleased to see that the hot body he had been fantasising about for the last fifteen minutes was indeed awake, sitting up in bed reading.
‘Good book?’ said Hatton.
‘Not bad – it’s a bit hard-going and I’m not sure if it’s been translated into Bulgarian yet so you might find it a little tough. How was your evening?’
‘Interesting.’
‘In what way?’
‘We talked business but it was clear that Sutton Rivers wanted a little bit more than just sharing a restaurant table with me.’
‘Seriously? You mean she tried it on with you?’
‘Uh-huh. Not that I gave her any reason to, of course.’
‘Well, fuck me… I bet you never saw that one coming.’
‘It took me by surprise,’ said Hatton, undoing his trousers and lowering them to reveal a pair of tight jockey shorts. It was clear that he was aroused underneath them, the material struggling to harbour his impressive erection.
‘The thought of it obviously put you in the mood though, didn’t it?’
‘I think you know full well that it’s your body that does that to me. Now, did you just say fuck me? Because I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.’
Hatton slipped his fingers into the band of his jockey shorts and pulled them down, freeing his member. His cock rose proudly to attention, a slick of eager pre-cum already visible on the end of the shaft.
Moving towards the bed he smiled as the covers were thrown back, the book tossed to one side as another sizeable rock-hard cock revealed itself. He glanced at the oriental symbols tattooed on one of the other man’s muscled legs.
Hatton wrapped his hand around the shaft and guided it towards his mouth. Before he took it within his lips he looked up at the face of his lover.
‘I love you, Fidge Carter,’ he said before setting to work on his cock.
17
‘So, you have definitely set up a meeting with the landowners tomorrow about the possibilities of building a hotel near here and utilising
the space that we need. The people with property on that land know that they will have to sell, don’t they? If we’re going to do this, then I can’t let any local peasant woman and her family of urchins stand in the way. And we can’t let sloppy organisation fuck it up.’
Sheridan Rivers barked his instructions at Kassidy Orpin from across the restaurant table on the Elounda seafront that they were sharing with Sheridan’s daughter Heather and her husband, Max. He was finishing off his main course as he spoke.
‘Yes, it’s all organised. You have a 10 a.m. appointment,’ said Kassidy, allowing the sensation of the evening sun on her skin to wash off any annoyance at the way her boss was speaking to her yet again. She’d never organised anything sloppily in her life and she wasn’t about to let her standards slip now with the potential building of another jewel in the Velvet empire crown.
‘Well, here’s to Velvet Crete if it all comes off. I reckon this place could be a massive success. I’ve not seen a really impressive hotel on the island yet so maybe a touch of six-star A-list glamour is what this place needs.’ Sheridan raised a glass and drained the last of his red wine. He refilled it as quickly as it had emptied.
Heather was finding it hard to share his excitement. ‘You’ve hardly seen any of the island, Dad. You’ve seen between here and the airport and that’s it. Crete is the largest of the Greek Islands and the fifth largest island in the whole of the Mediterranean Sea. It has a soaring mountain range that cuts right through it and is rich in both wildlife and history. It’s a truly awe-inspiring place.’
‘Okay, wind your neck in, Little Miss Tour Guide. I’m sure there’s more to it than I’ve seen so far, but I’m just saying that building a Velvet hotel here would make great financial sense and bring a top-notch clientele to the island. Plus, if it’s a money-spinner it’ll keep you, your sister and your blessed mother happy and allow you to kit yourself out like the Kardashians.’
‘I don’t need your money, Dad,’ stated Heather, slightly affronted at being lumped in with her elder sister and her mother and their cash-driven ways. They might be blood-related but as far as similarities were concerned it ended pretty much there. ‘Max brings home more than enough money to keep us both happy, thank you! And don’t you think the Velvet empire is big enough as it is? I’m sure Crete can survive and still be hugely popular with the A-list without your brutal input.’
Sheridan let a grin spread across his face. ‘Brutal input? I’m contemplating building a hotel, not raping and pillaging across the land and burning villages to the ground. And FYI, dear Heather, it’s the Velvet hotels that have managed to give you the lifestyle you lead. I don’t see you complaining when you’re flying around in a private jet or clicking your designer heels into the VIP area of some swanky awards ceremony, do I?’
‘I’m not saying I’m not grateful, Dad – I am. I know you’ve worked hard to achieve what you have and for what you’ve given to us but all I’m saying is that this island is dripping in jaw-dropping beauty and I just don’t want you to spoil it by building a monstrosity of a hotel. Can’t you build something in keeping with the island?’
It was Max who piped up, unable to contain himself. ‘Sadly, beautiful white-walled tavernas and picturesque boutiques are not exactly your Dad’s thing. He’s more of an ugly high-rise, build-it-big kind of guy,’ he told his wife.
But Sheridan was in no mood to listen to the ramblings of his son-in-law. ‘Oh, just can it, Max! Haven’t you got some raclette grill or a vacuum that specialises in sucking up cat fur to go and flog? Leave the real business to the big boys, eh?’
Heather was quick to leap to his defence. ‘That’s well out of order! Max is a massive nationwide success on shopping TV and he’s also the most amazing man I have ever met, so leave him alone, will you? All we’re both saying is that this place is gorgeous and it would be a real crime to spoil any of its natural beauty.’
‘Exactly,’ added Max.
‘Well, we’ll see what happens tomorrow when I speak to the locals, won’t we?’ said Sheridan, his words on the matter final. ‘Now, who’s for dessert? That grilled sea bream was delicious, as is this wine, but I could definitely do with a sugar rush to finish off.’
The rest of the meal was awkward in the extreme. It was evident that Sheridan had his hopes set on building another hotel in the area and wasn’t prepared to listen to any advice or reasoning that Heather or Max had to offer. Kassidy remained stony-faced throughout, trying desperately to keep a lid on the anger she was feeling about Sheridan’s continual sneering tone towards her. It was left for Sheridan to make conversation throughout the dessert, seemingly oblivious to the upset he had caused.
‘I want to take a trip to the mountains after the meal actually. One of the things I did read on a website about this island is that there are some beautiful little villages up there, hidden away. I’ve created a whole host of beachside hotels over the years but maybe a chic little hotel tucked away in the hills might make for something a bit more ground-breaking for Velvet.’
‘I can arrange a guide to take us up there tomorrow,’ offered Kassidy. ‘After the meeting.’
‘No, it has to be before, because if we do get any interest from the landowners here I can let them know that maybe I’m reconsidering location and thinking about something in the mountains. Competition is good. We’ll take a trip up there tonight. It’s still early evening.’
‘I’ll arrange a guide then,’ said Kassidy.
‘No need, I’ll take the hire car.’
Sheridan’s phone vibrated on the table as he spoke. He stared at the screen: it was Julian. He picked up the phone.
‘If you’ll excuse me folks, I need to take this.’
He stood up and walked away from their table, wandering into the cooler interior of the bar.
‘Shoot, Julian! How are things progressing?’ Sheridan’s voice boomed with bravado as he disappeared out of sight.
‘Do you fancy a trip up into the mountains then?’ asked Max, taking his wife’s hand in his. ‘Those hidden villages are supposed to be stunning.’
‘I’m not sure I do. I’m not feeling overly well, to be honest.’
Concern filled Max’s face. ‘What’s the matter? You do look a little off-colour. I thought that during the main course but didn’t like to say.’
‘My stomach is playing up. I feel a bit sick. Maybe that calamari I had for my first course didn’t agree with me.’
‘I have some Pepto-Bismol back at the hotel if you want it,’ said Kassidy. ‘Another thing my mother told me never to travel without,’ she added to no one in particular. Having said her piece, she buried her head back in her mobile phone. While Sheridan was away from the table she was busying herself with her love of Snapchat, finding out what her favourite celebrities had been posting.
‘We can head back there now,’ said Max, worried his wife might have eaten something that hadn’t agreed with her.
‘We’ll wait until Dad comes back and then we’ll go.’ Heather’s words were accompanied by a deep stomach rumble as she spoke, emphasising the need to leave.
It was another ten minutes before a jubilant Sheridan returned to the table. The smile he sported portrayed the fact that whatever he had been discussing with Julian, it had been good news. He spotted that Heather wasn’t exactly smiling as he retook his place at the table though.
‘Blimey, what’s happened to you?’ he asked.
‘Heather feels unwell. We think she might have eaten something dodgy. We’re going to head back to the hotel,’ said Max, his wife’s sweaty hand gripped in his. ‘We’ll fetch the bill.’
‘I’ll sort that,’ said Sheridan. He turned to Kassidy. ‘You need to head back to the hotel too and phone Julian. He has a list of people you need to contact. That phone call was good news about Velvet Hong Kong. I’ve been keen to sell that site so we could build a bigger and better one. It’s been on the market for a short while and what do you know, bingo! We’ve been offered way beyond the
asking price. Some Chinese firm was determined to use the premises for a deluxe casino or something like that and wanted to bid above and beyond to make sure they secured it. I need letters fired off to the right people, so you can take Heather back to the hotel and Max and I will stay here and then head up into the mountains.’
‘No, I’ll take Heather.’ Max looked anxious. ‘I want to look after her.’
Heather squeezed his hand. ‘I’ll be fine, honey. Kassidy can take me and I’ll take the Pepto-Bismol. It’s just an upset stomach. You stay with Dad.’
She leant over to kiss her husband on the ear. ‘It’ll be good bonding time,’ she whispered, as subtly as possible, ‘and you can persuade him not to build a nightmare here.’
Max didn’t like the idea but if Heather wanted him to spend quality time with his father-in-law then he was happy to do so, especially if he had a mission to accomplish. If it pleased Heather, then it pleased him. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked.
‘Absolutely. Kassidy and I will grab a taxi. We’ll leave you boys to it.’
Kassidy pulled her head from her mobile and skulked off after Heather as she left the table. The look on her face couldn’t hide the fact that she would much rather have been spying on the Snapchat of actress Evie Merchant on the set of her latest movie than organising letters to Hong Kong and playing nurse to her boss’s daughter. But business came first and if she was to keep her job then she knew that she had to keep Sheridan sweeter than sweet.
Heather mouthed ‘I love you’ to Max and the two women disappeared from view.
For a moment, there was an awkward silence between the two men left at the table. Max and Sheridan had never really hit it off. They weren’t enemies but despite the fact that they were both big fish in their very different ponds of business they definitely swam in opposite directions when it came to the morals and ethics of what could push you up the ladder of success. Whereas Max had always thought that being nice to people could only be beneficial, Sheridan definitely believed that if you had to yank the person above you on the ladder to a crippling financial death then so be it.
