Filthy Foreign Exchange Book 2

by S. E. Hall

  I whisper my full surrender. “Okay.”

  “Are you ready to give this a real go, Love?”

  I nod just as his mouth, warm and gentle, claims mine. He pulls me onto his lap and I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him with the obscene amounts of want and need that I will no longer keep caged.

  “Mmm,” he moans, leaving my mouth to run his tongue down my neck. “’Bout bloody damn time. My Echo…finally.” He nips at my collarbone. “The things I plan to do to you, Love. The wait has been fucking torture.”

  I feel him long and hard between my thighs, and am somehow able to pull up a memory through the ecstasy. I decide to test whether he remembers, pushing down and rubbing myself back and forth against his erection.

  The almost-pained groan he huffs upon my skin is the most empowering, arousing noise I’ve ever heard.

  “Thought I’d grind down a bit,” I taunt breathlessly, and when he stops to look up at me, I whimper softly from the absolute adoration glistening in his eyes.

  “Let’s go,” he snarls, standing with me in his arms, wrapped around him. “You deserve better than being ravaged right here on the sidewalk, but one more glide along my dick and I can’t be held responsible for what happens next.”

  “Kingston, wait.” I laugh in utter joy, my soul finally soaring. “What about Nat?”

  “I don’t wish to sink deep inside Natalie, Love, so…what about her?”

  “You know I can’t just leave her. And as for the other, thing, well…” I duck my head. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

  He sets me on my feet and lifts my face gently. “You’re right. Apologies. Damn it. Lost my head for a moment. Let’s go get your friend. And my sweet girl, thank you,” he adds, licking his bottom lip slowly while those ravenous eyes rake over me, “for reminding me that I’d much rather take my time with you.”

  ~~~~~

  In the light of a new morning, I’m joined by Sourpuss and Crankypants. Nat’s been glaring daggers at me because I “made” her turn in early last night, only to give her sparse details about what happened between Kingston and me. I wanted to open up, but honestly, I just needed the night to process it all first.

  And speaking of Kingston, he’s stomping around and smoking from the ears because I politely refused to spend last night in his room. Oh, he swore up and down with a lot of actual swearing that we could just sleep, if that was what I wanted. But the bulge in his jeans and ferocity in his eyes, voice, and touch told me he was full of shit.

  And with my first—and only—high still lingering in my system, mixed with full-blown lust, I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to resist asking for what I really wanted.

  “I’ve scheduled a guided tour of the Anne Frank House this morning, so we need to get going,” Kingston announces grumpily to the group.

  “The what?” Jackie sneers.

  Dear God, anyone else on Earth should’ve gotten her spot on this trip. How do you not know who Anne Frank is?

  As I roll my eyes, I notice I’m not alone; Bridget is doing the same. What’s this? Trouble in the Cool Girls’ Club?

  Kingston rubs his forehead, and is opening his mouth to answer her when Nat pipes up.

  “I’ve got this one, chief,” she tells him, and her mood brightens drastically. Calmly, but oh-so-condescendingly, she explains to Jackie who Anne Frank is—but I think the rest of us more so hear what she doesn’t say, which is, “You’re a complete dumbass.”

  Somehow—and no one cares how—Jackie manages to finagle six people, including Patton and Chad (I know the “how” with those two), to break off into a separate group with her for ventures of their own. But Bridget opts to go with us.

  “You guys mind if I hang with you today?” she asks Nat after walking over.

  Nat looks to me, and gets a careless shrug as my answer.

  “Do you know who Anne Frank is?” Nat asks her.

  She laughs and bobs her head. “Yes—since I was a little girl—I can’t believe we’ll actually see her home. I’ve had enough of the nightlife aspect. I’m ready to appreciate what this trip really has to offer…if that makes sense.”

  Nat pops a shoulder. “Okay, you convinced me.” But I know she has more to say, judging by the sarcasm oozing off her and swirling in her eyes as she watches Bridget walk away to grab her purse.

  And I’m right. It takes everything in me not to burst out laughing when she turns to me and says, “My guess is she’s mad she got left out of the threesome.”

  “You’re insane.” I shake my head. “Come on. Everyone’s waiting.”

  It’s a short, beautiful walk to our destination, during which Kingston holds my hand and I let him. Now that we’ve talked everything out and I know the exacts of what I always really knew—that he’s wonderful—I’m going to revel in happiness twice as hard as I suffered. I refuse to shy away from having, and enjoying, what almost crippled me to have seemingly lost forever.

  Not surprisingly, he glances over at me from the corner of his eye and smiles, giving my hand a soft squeeze. “I know, Love, much wasted time. But we’ll make up for it. I swear.”

  I say nothing. I obviously don’t need to, since he knew what I was thinking before, so I’m positive he knows my answer now…which is that I believe him.

  We follow Nat—who’s walking with Bridget to give us space—into the Frank house.

  The tour is fascinating. It’s almost more than my mind can accept, and also tragically poignant; I find myself wiping away a lone tear several times. A few of those times, Kingston wraps his arm around my shoulder and kisses the top of my head, whispering, “My sweet girl.”

  I cherish it, fully prepared to dive completely into our relationship.

  After we’re done, there’s a solemn silence among our group, where everyone’s just kind of standing around in mournful realization. That actually happened to that family—that young girl. It’s not a story, it’s a biography…her final, terrified words are real, and a living reminder.

  A shiver runs through me, which Kingston feels, prompting him to clear his throat…and the fog over us all.

  “How does a canal cruise sound? Then lunch—my treat.”

  Everyone agrees quickly, guilty smiles and sighs emerging; a unanimous gratefulness for the reprieve.

  “Would anyone fancy biking the distance, or shall we continue walking?” he asks.

  A few opt for bikes, and split from those of us who decide to walk after we make a plan to meet up at the canal.

  “You know,” I say as we walk, “I’ve now ridden on planes, trains, the Underground, the London Eye, elevators, a bus…and I’m about to cruise the canal. But you’ve yet to offer up a ride on that Autobahn you’re so fond of.”

  He stops, cupping both my cheeks and demanding my eyes meet his serious stare.

  “Nor will I. The thrill-seeking rubbish of my past is just that, the past. I’ll never put you at risk in any way, and quite frankly, the appeal is gone.”

  Not that I’m unhappy to hear it, but I have to ask, almost disbelievingly, “Why?”

  His mouth curves up in a slow, sexy smile. “Because, Love, I already have what gives me all the rush I need.”

  “Me?” I fight off my cringe, embarrassed by my arrogant assumption and even further mortified at the possibility I might be wrong.

  He chuckles warmly. “Yes, you.”

  All at once, romantic bliss takes over, and I kiss him—more precisely, I attack him, going up on my tiptoes, throwing my arms around his neck, and pulling his head down to smash my lips against his. He’s all too happy to assist, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me off my feet, a tiny laugh vibrating against my mouth.

  I pull back, my eyes wide, gauging him to try and figure out why he’s laughing. I squirm, trying to escape his hold, but he tuts, firming his embrace.

  “Stop it,” he demands in a serious timbre, while his eyes remain amused. “I was laughing because I’m happy, Echo. It’s positively intoxicating whe
n you let go and come to me first. We’re going to break you of this silly insecurity of yours, ’cause I want more of your brazen sexuality. And I’ll get it.”

  Immediately soothed, and more than a bit excited at the prospect, I smile before giving him another quick kiss. “Promise?”

  “Oh, I promise,” he growls, seeming disappointed to put me down. “We better catch up with the others. I fear my tour-guide services have been somewhat lacking.” He smiles. “I blame you, of course, my beautiful distraction.”

  We run, still hand in hand, to the dock, me laughing the whole way. It’s a gorgeous day, in a marvelous city, and I’m with a magnificent man. I don’t care who hears my happiness.

  Nat laughs as we approach. “Oh, please! Save the fake running. You don’t even wanna know what I had to offer this guy,” she says, jerking a thumb over her shoulder, “to hold the boat for you two.”

  We slow down as we approach her, and I ask, “You’re kidding…aren’t you?”

  I start to have actual doubts when I consider whom I’m talking to, watching her brow quirk in challenge.

  “Nat, you are kidding, right?”

  “Of course I am,” she scoffs, waving me off. “I made Bridget do the bartering.”

  “She’s still kidding,” Bridget says with a snicker, slapping Nat’s arm.

  “Ladies.” Kingston extends a hand, urging us to board the boat with a motion of his head. “Shall we?”

  “You are so lucky you have that accent,” Nat teases, raising her eyebrows. “Otherwise, I’d be forced to remind you who it was that held us up in the first place.”

  Kingston laughs. “Duly noted, Natalie. My apologies.” He thickens the accent with the last words, and I give him a secret grin.

  And so we enjoy a boat ride through the city, a vivid showcase of beauty in every direction we look. Afterward, stop for lunch.

  Together we eat, everyone chattering about possible agendas for the evening. Some man I was oblivious to, of course, apparently took a liking to Bridget, and gave her two tickets to a performance at the concert hall tonight. Kingston is shocked, explaining how hard tickets are to come by, and is very blunt about wondering what the man might expect in return.

  “Doesn’t matter anyway,” Bridget dismisses his warning speech. “He only gave me two tickets, and I’m not going if Natalie and Echo can’t both join me.”

  I open my mouth, ready to tell her how thoughtful that is and that I don’t mind her taking just Natalie as long as they’re safe, when Kingston speaks first.

  “Here’s what we’ll do…I’ll make some calls, and get security and a car sorted to ensure you and Natalie can safely attend—because Echo and I already have plans for this evening.”

  “We do?” I ask.

  “Indeed.” He lifts my hand and kisses that spot he seems to like on my wrist.

  “What are they?”

  “Ah, no peeking behind the curtain, Love. It’s a surprise.”

  I narrow my eyes at Nat. It occurs to me she’s been far too quiet since this whole conversation started, and she’s now staring off at nothing with a smile on her face.

  “Yes, I know what it is,” she says. She must feel my glare, because she finally turns to blow me an air kiss. “And no, I’m not telling you.”

  Chapter 17

  “Nat, please just give me a hint!” I’m all-out begging now. “I feel very overdressed, and I’m afraid I’m going to look like an idiot.”

  She jerks on my hair, which she’s fixing into an elaborate updo, and locks eyes with me in the mirror. “You look perfect—trust me. You’re my friend. I’d never steer you wrong.”

  I exhale deeply, relaxing in my trust of her words.

  Whatever Kingston has planned for tonight, it’s fancy—and way out of my league. After we’d returned to the hotel, he suggested I go up to my room to rest and/or freshen up, almost anxious to get rid of me…which left me suspicious. Then, when a knock at the door came not long after and Nat didn’t bat an eye at the entourage marching in with boxes wrapped in colorful ribbon, my suspicion morphed into nervous anticipation.

  Kington’s handiwork presented a beautiful, baby-pink gown just my size, low silver heels, and a jewelry and makeup assortment worthy of a princess…all for me.

  As Nat finishes with my hair, I take the final step and look in the mirror at a girl I barely recognize. Who is this blushing brunette in a gorgeous dress, intricate makeup, diamond earrings, and a delicate necklace, staring back at me?

  “Ready?” she asks, looking exquisite herself in the black dress and tan heels he’d also thoughtfully sent for her night at the concert hall.

  “Oh, um...I guess.” I can’t conceal my disappointment. I thought—or more so, hoped—Kingston would be coming up to get me.

  She grins conspiratorially. “He’s waiting for you there. I’ll be your escort; Bridget and our limo are downstairs.” She positions her arm for me to lace mine through it. “Come on, Cinderella. Your prince awaits.”

  My legs are shaky the entire way down to the lobby, and even once I’m sitting in the back of the grand limo, I have to focus to keep my knees from knocking together.

  “You look beautiful, Echo,” Bridget says sincerely, and for the first time since I’ve met her, I realize she’s not so bad—especially when she adds, “And just so you know, Jackie’s full of shit. She never talked to Kingston—she stalked him on social media. She admitted it—well, more complained about it—when she was drunk the other night. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

  “It’s fine, and thank you.” I smile. “You two be careful tonight. Any weird vibes from your mystery ticket donor, you call me or Kingston immediately. I mean it. And no wandering the city, Nat—straight back to the hotel, in the car he ordered.”

  “Oh my God, you sound just like Seb—”

  She stops, her eyes darting downward.

  “My brother?” I ask, with lilt in my voice. She still doesn’t answer.

  “Yes, I know,” I continue, mocking her with her earlier words. “And no, I’m not upset. Trust me, the fact that he hasn’t been blowing up my phone was a big clue someone was keeping him up to date.”

  Her worried eyes fly to mine. “Only about your safety, I swear.”

  “I believe you, Nat. And thanks.” I reach out and rub her hand. “All I’ll say is, much like you, my brother’s amazing.”

  “So is that one.” She nods her head toward the window.

  I look, my breath catching in my throat at the sight. Kingston is descending the stairs of a mystery building, dressed in a tuxedo and holding something I can’t quite make out.

  “Go get your man, Echo,” is the last thing I hear from Nat before Kingston opens my door, holding his free hand out for me to take.

  “Love,” he beckons in a voice that gives me goosebumps, his smoldering eyes entrapping mine.

  I take his hand, and he helps me out as the girls giggle softly behind me. And then I see what’s in his hand.

  No way.

  It all starts to make sense. Beautiful, heartstring-tugging pieces are falling into place.

  “Shhh,” he hums, pulling me closer. “Don’t cry, Echo, even happy tears. I can’t bear it. May I?”

  I nod, trying not to cry harder as he slips the corsage onto my wrist, then lays a warm kiss there.

  “I believe I owe my lady a prom. Shall we?”

  I more float than walk, blindly letting him lead me inside. The room’s decorated like a garden at night, and music plays. There’s even a banner that reads “Endless Night,” the same theme of the prom I’d missed.

  Oh, and we’re the only two people here.

  “How’d you—”

  “I have my ways.” As per usual, he winks. My brother. Had to be. “Would you care to mingle a bit first, or go find our table?”

  I throw my head back and laugh, loud and long, the final sound of heartache leaving me once and for all. There’s no one here to mingle with, and only one table. But Kingston does
n’t break character, truly doing his best to create the full experience for me.

  So I play along.

  “You know I don’t mingle.” My lip quirks up. “And I think we’ll be able to find a table later. How about we dance first?”

  “Almost time,” he murmurs, tracing along my cheek, down my neck, and across my lips with a lone fingertip. “Now.”

  He takes my hand and pulls me into the center of the room. And then I hear it, and understand the wait…as “Fix You” starts to play.

  He wanted our first dance to be to this song—one we’d discussed on a happy night—one that was my choice.

  He may not realize it, and I may never tell him, but this is the second mention of it he’s made…which cements it—in my mind, anyway—as forever “our song.”

  I can’t stop my eyes from welling up with tears again. It’s just so astounding, caring…healing. Who manages to find a building in Amsterdam for their own private prom, decorated to specification, and complete with music on cue?

  Kingston Hawthorne, that’s who.

  “You know,” he says softly in my ear, our bodies pressed together and swaying slowly in perfect unison, “when I heard I’d be working with a garden theme, I was quite tempted to take artistic liberties and create the Garden of Eden—in which case we’d both be naked.”

  I match his subdued chuckle. His arm, snug around my waist, tugs me closer.

  “But I’m rather glad I thought better of it. You look absolutely breathtaking in your gown, Love.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, pushing past a sob, “for everything. I can’t believe you did all this. I…” I lift my face from his chest and look up at him. “I love it.”

  “I love you,” he replies instantly, with a certainty that sends my pulse racing and my mind reeling.

  “You…you love me?” I ask, my body halting all movement.

  He stops as well, his intense stare fixed on mine. “Wholly and impossibly. More than I have loved, or ever could love, anything or anyone else in the world.”

  “Kingston, I—”