"Aren't you going to tell me about last night?" I ask and look up into his eyes.
He bops me on the nose and kisses my forehead.
"Last night..."
He rolls his eyes.
"What a drama."
"You're telling me! Was she okay?"
"Penelope was fine," he sighs. "I took her home to her parents and they fussed over her like they always do. I swear to God she could turn anything into a saga. I remember once we were on holiday in Italy and she fell and scraped her knee while we were hiking. She insisted on spending two nights in hospital because she was sure she'd contracted an infection from the grass."
He laughs and looks up to the ceiling.
"She sounds like a real princess," I say. "But she's okay, though. I mean, was she sick because of the pregnancy?" I ask while thinking about what I'd just seen in the photograph.
"I think it was just a little scare," he says. "I did offer to call her a doctor but she said she was fine. She slept it off."
"Weird," I say.
"What?"
"Most pregnant women are so worried about everything that they'd call a doctor over the most minor of problems, just to be on the safe side."
"Hmmm..." Freddie says and narrows his eyes.
"But it's none of my business," I say and pull away from him before looking back at my notepad. "Forget I said anything."
I can feel his eyes boring into the side of my head. Then I feel his fingers creeping up my legs and his hot breath on my ear.
"Make love to me," he says.
"I have to stay here," I groan. "I really need to finish this."
"We can stay here," he says. "That old bat up there won't notice a thing."
"You can't be serious?" I laugh.
"Deadly," he replies with his hand sliding in between my legs. "You're hot," he says as he begins to rub me through my jeans.
"We can't," I say and try to push him away. "We'll get caught."
"By who?" he asks with a cheeky smile.
We both glance up at the librarian who's enthralled in her magazine story while sipping on a coffee. Freddie stands up and hurries away toward to the back of the room, the section that's filled with law reference books.
"Come on," he whispers.
"No!" I laugh. "You're crazy."
Leaning against the back wall, hidden by shelves on either side of him, he begins to unzip his pants. He's hard already and all I can do is gasp and slap a hand over my mouth as he wraps a hand around his erection and begins to stroke himself.
"What are you doing?" I whisper as I approach. "We can get into so much trouble."
"Get down," he says and pushes me down by the shoulders.
I place him in my mouth and suck tentatively on the tip, terrified that at any moment someone will catch us. But the thrill of being caught is making me wet and I slide a hand down the front of panties and groan as I begin to rub myself.
"Yes, like that," he whispers above me.
Looking up, our eyes meet and he begins to move his hips back and forth, thrusting himself into my mouth as he brushes the hair from my eyes.
"You're so beautiful," he says. "So fucking beautiful."
He twitches in my mouth and his thighs become rigid as he almost climaxes.
"Stop," he says and pulls my head away by my jaw. "Get on your hands and knees."
"No... We're going to get caught."
"We're not," he insists.
Shifting onto all fours, I poke my head around the corner of the shelves and see the librarian still has her eyes cast down to her magazine, completely oblivious to what we're doing.
"Okay," I say over my shoulder. "Hurry."
He grips my waist hard and thrusts into me. It takes every ounce of strength to not cry out and I push my face into the floor instead, resting on my forearms as I chew on my sleeve. I can hear the sound of him slapping against me, feeling the wetness that's running down my thighs. He pushes himself into me roughly and rests there, his throbbing head pulsating against my g-spot as his testicles rest against my clitoris.
"I'm coming," I whisper into the floor. "Just a little further..."
He leans back so that his cock falls out of me.
"You tease!" I whisper through gritted teeth as I move onto my back. "I'm so close."
"So am I."
Lowering himself down onto me, he bounces his tip off my red, hot clit. I bite down on my lip and scratch my fingernails into the carpet. Leaning forward with his full weight on me, he kisses my earlobe.
"I wanna fuck you so hard," he says.
"Do it," I reply. "Hurry."
He looks into my eyes and runs a finger down my stomach before nodding and looking up to make sure we're still alone.
"Okay."
Gliding into me easily, he moves slowly at first before building up a steady rhythm, growing faster with each stroke. Then he's frantic and desperate, his whole body rocking wildly as he jackhammers inside of me, pushing in and out until we're both breathless. His buttocks pull tight and I feel my thighs shudder and we come hard with his hands pulling my shoulders down and his teeth sunk into my breast.
We dress in a hurry, pulling up our pants and gasping as we both peek around the corner to see the old lady taking off her reading glasses before sliding off her stool. We both laugh and sit on the floor for a moment, pretending we're perusing the law section. Although the smell of sex and sweat is heavy in the air and our hair is piled up high on our heads like it's been brushed with a knife and fork.
"That was incredible," he says. "You're so hot when you're worried."
We both snigger and stand up to return to the desk. The librarian begins to shut the lights off and she looks over at us and smiles.
"Closing in five minutes," she says.
"Thanks, we're just leaving."
I bundle up my things and head for the door with Freddie tangling his fingers into mine. The building is empty and dark and the creepiness of the place lingers around us.
"Hey, where else do you think we can do it?" he asks. "What about Gibson's desk?"
"Eeeuw... no."
"Hmmm.... the bathroom?"
"Nah... Kinda clichéd," I reply with a smirk as I remember the last time I came to a heart-stopping orgasm in the ladies' room.
"Yeah, I hate clichéd sex," he jokes. "What about the cafeteria?"
"That's just nasty."
We make our way down the stairs as the last of the library lights go out. The silence is overwhelming with nothing but the sound of our footsteps splintering the darkness.
"So, you went here," I say, "Any cool ghost stories?"
"Ghost stories? Hmm... Actually, there were a few. Although I'm not sure I'm much of a believer."
"Me neither but I love a good story."
We reach the bottom floor. Upstairs, we can hear the old lady pace up and down.
"Hey, imagine if the librarian was a ghost," I say. "And we were worried about her seeing us the whole time but she was actually dead. Simply replaying a segment of her life over and over again without knowing we were there."
"Creepy," he says. "But, Knightswood certainly does have its fair share of horror stories. I mean just think of the name, Knightswood. It literally means it was the woods of the knights."
"What knights? Like some King Arthur shit?"
He smiles with his white teeth faintly showing through the darkness. Outside, an owl hoots and the timing is so perfect I wonder if I imagined it.
"Not King Arthur, but the Knights Templars. There's a legend that this land belonged to them and they hid a great treasure right where this building is. This, of course, comes with all the obligatory stories of mysterious horsemen galloping through the trees and the jangling of chains."
"Treasure? Knowing the luck of this place it was probably stolen."
"Ha, yeah."
He opens the door and we step out into the night. The crescent moon is high above us without a cloud in the sky and we both shiver.
"Sure, I'd like that."
Chapter Four
The water's lapping in the darkness a few feet away from where we sit. Behind us, the city sleeps while we shiver with our feet over the edge of the wall.
"It feels kind of dangerous around here," I say. "Not that I'm scared or anything but..."
"It's dark around here. That's why I like it. A lot of history, a lot of stories. In fact, John Dee used to walk these very streets. He lived over the river there where that Mexican restaurant now sits."
I squint and look over but see nothing.
"Who's John Dee?"
He picks up a pebble and tosses it into the murky abyss below. We hear it land in the water and see the vague outline of splashing water in the beam of the moonlight
"John Dee was the Queen's conjurer, an alchemist, a man who thought he could converse with spirits and angels."
"Sounds like a weirdo," I say.
"He was." Freddie laughs and throws another pebble. "But he was dark and mesmerizing and completely fascinating. Also, the Queen's special number for him was 007. Isn't that a neat fact?"
"Weird," I say with my breath billowing up in a cloud of steam amidst the chilled air. "Do you think the Queen now has an occultist?"
He gives me a sideways glance.
"Maybe."
In the distance, a boat paddles through the blackness with the sound of the oars hitting the water. The man inside hums to himself as it glides past.
"What the hell is he doing out here?" I ask.
"No idea but I don't like the look of him."
"Fancy making a move?"
"Yep."
He helps me up and we continue to walk along the waterside with the river gently lapping beneath us. Sliding his arms around my waist, he pulls me close to him and kisses the back of my neck.
"I was worried," he says. "I thought you had finished with me after last night."
Spinning around to face him, I kiss him gently and lean into his chest.
"I was just keeping a safe distance. I don't think your ex-wife likes me being around."
"Oh really?" he says as he strokes my hair. "Why would you say that?"
For a second I think about telling him what I think but I hold back.
"I just get a vibe."
"You're right of course," he replies. "She'll no doubt be jealous although I can't say I'm surprised."
Rain begins to fall in a light spattering and I pull up my hood.
"I really need to get going. I have class in the morning and I'm already behind with Gibson's work."
He pulls me close to him and nibbles on my ear lobe.
"Do you have to? Can't we spend the night together?"
"I really can't. Gibson said..."
"Fuck Gibson," he says. "Actually, fuck me. Come on, let's get a nice hotel room, order room service, watch a horror movie and snuggle at the scary bits."
"Ah... that sounds like my perfect night but really, I have to go."
The rain starts to fall heavier as we approach his car and I run to dash into the passenger side.
"What can I do to change your mind?" he asks as he slides in beside me and slams the door shut, shaking the water from his hair as he looks at his reflection in the rearview mirror.
"Don't say stuff like that. You're very persuasive when you feel like it and you know it."
"Persuasive?" he grins and leans over to stroke the inside of my thigh. "Come on, stay with me. I don't want to go home to that big house on my own and I'm sure you don't want to go back to that miserable dorm room."
"Well..."
He kisses my neck and cups a breast before teasing his hand inside my shirt.
"I could never say no to you," I breathe. "Where are you taking me?"
~
It dawns on me, as we ride up to the top floor in the elevator that I've never been in a five-star hotel before. I mean sure, I've stayed in plenty of hotels but not ones with bellboys and concierges and definitely not ones with staff that look more like supermodels than receptionists.
"You alright?" he asks and squeezes me with one arm.
"Just worried," I say. "
"Worried? What on Earth is there to be worried about?"
I want to tell him I miss my mom. I want to tell him what I think about Penelope and I want to explain how much school work I have to do but instead, I say:
"I'm worried the room doesn't have a Jacuzzi."
He laughs and kisses me as we step out into the hallway.
"I'm pretty sure it'll have a Jacuzzi."
A moment later he's sliding his key card into the door and showing me inside.
"Woah!"
I was expecting a hotel room, like a little quaint thing with a bed, a desk and a modest en-suite bathroom but this place is more like a penthouse apartment. There are three separate rooms, a lounge, another reception room and a bedroom that stretches out with high, plate glass windows and a chandelier that hangs over the king size bed. Pushing open the bathroom door, I'm confronted with a bath that could fit an entire football team, a marble floor and gold counters.
"This place is amazing!"
"I thought you'd like it. It's opulent but a little dark too, like a palace in a forgotten part of town."
"You sound like you know the place well. You stay here often?"
He thinks for a second and looks down to the ground.
"When Penelope and I used to fall out, I'd come here to be alone. The staff are discreet, never tell a soul about who their customers are. It seemed like an ideal place to sulk and drink away my sorrows. In fact, I used to get this room every single time."
"Ever have company over?"
A momentary wave of jealousy sweeps over me. Had he brought girls back here before? Had he slept with them in this bed?
"No," he replies. "I've always thought of it as being my secret home away from home. Not even my own family knows about this place."
"You certainly know how to flatter people," I smile. "I feel very special."
He presses a button on the side of the cabinet and the television glides out from the wall.
"It's like a home theater," I say. "That's the biggest TV I've ever seen."
Taking off his wet coat and shoes and leaving them at the foot of the bed, he sits down and struggles with his rain-soaked trousers.
"Let me help you with that," I say and walk over.
He grins cheekily.
"I'm not trying to be a perv," I say. "Well, maybe a little."
Together, we peel his clothes off and leave them piled on the pristine, white carpet.
"Now it's your turn," he says and pulls his fingers through my wet hair.
Skinny jeans are difficult at the best of times and utterly impossible when wet. He yanks at the waistband and nothing seems to happen. We laugh and wriggle on the bed.
"I think I need to cut these off," he says.
"Hang on, there's special technique to them. You need to grab them at the ankle otherwise they'll end up inside out."
They slide off to reveal my cold, pink skin. He rubs at the goose bumps on my thighs before zipping down my hoodie and lifting up my top.
"You're freezing! I don't think this grim, London weather is suited to you."
"Is it like this all year round?"
"Pretty much. Hey, I have an idea. Let's get in that Jacuzzi you were talking about."
"Sounds good."
He walks through to the bathroom in his boxer shorts. I eye up his taught body and wide shoulders. People always say they have a favorite part of someone's body. Jonny always said he liked the back of my neck. He said it was pale and delicate. Of course, most guys just like breasts and pussy while I always tried to remain somewhat dignified in the argument, saying I enjoyed people's brains the most. But if I had to pick my favorite part of Freddie, it wouldn't be his face, his charm or his ass. It wouldn't even be his money. It would definitely be his shoulders
. They're sturdy and strong, symbolic that they can bear any weight no matter how heavy. Although they're not muscle bound and dense like gym rats. They're elegant and defined. They can lift just about everything and give him the perfect posture that's accentuated by his cocky swagger. Yet they can be so soft at the same time, a place I can rest my head and sleep.
There's a squeak in the bathroom followed by the sound of running water.
"Are you coming in?" he calls out from the doorway as he pulls down his underwear.
"In a minute. I wanna pick some music."
I fiddle with the remote until I find the music channels.
"Make sure you don't put on any of that RnB crap," he laughs.
"What's wrong with RnB? Anyway, how do you like jazz?"
"Jazz is fine," he says. "Although I never imagined you as much of a Coltrane fan."
"Well there's obviously a lot to learn about me," I say as I slink out of my underwear and drop my bra on the floor.
The bathroom is steamed up which gives the impression that the opulence is shrouded in a mysterious mist, like a nuclear apocalypse has drifted over ancient Rome. Freddie picks up a golden bottle and empties half the contents into the water and we watch it erupt into a volcano of gold-flecked bubbles.
"Come on," he says as he steps inside.
I dip a toe and feel the warmth travel the length of my leg. Then I sink down low until the water reaches my chest.
"Come here," he pulls me further down until our bodies are slipping against one another.
He kisses me softly, his tongue gently brushing mine as his hands linger on my waist.
Is this heaven, I think? I don't ever want to be out of this moment, out of this warmth or his arms. I want to open my eyes and pull my mouth back to tell him that I love him but I don't dare. Instead, I lean into him and caress the small of his back as I wrap my legs around his waist.
We linger in the middle of the tub, the bubbles massaging and encapsulating us. This time there's no desperation, no urgency to be penetrated but instead, we have every second to relish and all the time in the world.
We kiss for what seems like hours until the water starts to cool and our faces are flushed red. We run our fingertips over every inch of each other's body until there's nothing left to explore.
The Boss Me Series: Complete Billionaire Boxed Set Romance Books (1-3): (A Billioniare Steamy Romance Series) Page 12
