The Violet Widow? (Shattered Heart #1)

by K E Osborn

  “What?”

  She giggles. “Same clothes as yesterday, Boss? You pull an all-nighter?”

  I can’t stop the smile that forms as I remember the way Rock touched me. “Maybe,” I answer in reply.

  “Yay, Boss got laid! It’s about time.”

  I open my eyes wide and shush her. “Shut up, the whole of Adelaide doesn’t need to know,” I whisper.

  “Don’t worry, it’s good you’re getting out there again. Was it a one-nighter? Or is there someone I should know about?” she asks. “And why are you hobbling? Oh, wait never mind. I’m just glad you had a good night.”

  “Well, I definitely had a great night and I’m hoping it’s more than a one-nighter, but I’ll have to wait and see. He doesn’t know about this place and I want to keep it that way for as long as possible. I know all this could put off a potential partner.”

  “Yeah, I get that. Sounds like you like him?”

  I smile and nod, biting my bottom lip. “I do, Angel. He’s… well, he’s kind of been like my rock lately,” I reply with a smirk.

  She smiles and pats me on the arm. “Well, I’m glad someone is finally making you happy, Boss. You absolutely deserve it.”

  Sheila walks in wearing the shortest dress I’ve ever seen. It has holes in the sides showing off her G-string and lack of bra. I frown and turn my lip up.

  “And what kind of outfit do you call this?” I ask.

  She smiles and rubs her hands over the black leather. She looks like a bloody dominatrix!

  “Don’t you love it?” she replies.

  Angel and I both shake our heads.

  “Sheila, this is not some lowly whore house on Hindley Street! This is an exclusive high-end establishment. Wearing something that a stripper would wear, won’t bring the right clientele. We only want businessmen and high-end paid workers, not horny teenagers looking to pop their cherry. You have to make the right impression and that dress, well that’s not how we run things here at Cupiditas. Remember the name of the business is Latin for desire – you think anyone is going to desire you wearing that? No, they’re going to think you’re a trashy whore and I don’t have whores at my establishment, Sheila. Take it off now and throw it in the bin. If you want to keep working here, you will wear what you’re supposed to. Got it?” I demand getting more and more annoyed.

  “Sorry Boss, I get carried away sometimes. I’ll go change. By the way, I have a couple of extra clients coming in today. They’re Star’s regulars and seeing as she’s out for the count I’m taking on five clients a day instead of three. I’m going to be loose as a goose by the end of tonight.”

  Angel and I both laugh. She has such a way with words, our Sheila, which helps my anger to dissipate.

  “Right, well, thanks for that Sheils, now go and change before a client walks in!” I say and she laughs and walks off down to her room.

  I look at Angel and she shakes her head. “The woman is twenty-eight. You’d think she’d know better by now?” Angel states and I nod in agreement.

  “Okay. How are the books looking with Papi and Star away?” I ask and she winces a little.

  “It’s not great, Boss. Don’t get me wrong some of their clients are still coming in, but they want Star and Papi. The good news is they’re willing to wait till they come back, so profits might fall for a few weeks, but then they should go back to normal when they return.”

  I exhale. “Bugger. Oh well, guess there’s nothing we can do about it. Let’s just hope Star recovers quickly and whatever fucked up mess Papi has got himself into is cleared up as soon as possible. We don’t need bikers on our doorstep. That would be very bad for business,” I say and Angel agrees with a nod.

  “Absolutely. Hopefully, he has it under control. If not, I’ll sort him out, Boss.”

  I laugh and nod my head because I know Angel, and she’s very protective of me and the business. I managed to get her off the streets a few years back and into paid employment with a roof over her head so she’s always thankful to me for my hospitality.

  “I know you will Angel. Where’s Rosie?”

  Angel checks the calendar. “She’s with the old fart again,” she says with a smirk.

  “Poor Rosie. I swear for an old man his sex drive is ridiculous!”

  “I think he uses those little blue pills. Rosie says he’s always popping something before they get started.”

  “Yeah, figured as much. Okay, I’m going to do some work. That’s if I can actually walk to my office,” I joke.

  Angel laughs and shakes her head. “Boss, just one more thing.”

  “This rock of yours, is he big?” she asks raising her eyebrows up and down insinuatingly.

  I throw my head back and laugh. “Oh, Angel sweetie, he’s hung like a horse.”

  “Good to hear someone’s getting it good around this joint,” she jokes and I scoff at her.

  “I’m going to tell Thor you said that,” I tease and her eyes open wide.

  “Don’t you dare?”

  “Don’t worry, I know you wouldn’t want to offend Thor and his massive hammer.” I give her a wink.

  She laughs and shakes her head. “No, I wouldn’t. He’s a good friend.”

  “A-huh, a good friend, hey?” I tease and she furrows her brows and slaps me on my arm.

  “Shut up, I thought you were going to go and do some work?”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing you. But you never know if you ask him out he might actually say yes. Just putting that out there.” I start to move or should I say hobble off to my office.

  “Just keep hobbling. Off you go, you old woman.”

  I scoff and make it into my office and then to my white desk chair before I collapse down onto it. I really am sore from last night. Who knew not having sex for over a year would cause such pain the day after? But it’s a good pain because it reminds me of him, which is exactly what he said he would do.

  My window is open as always and the smell of the ocean soothes me. I love it here and even though my profession is not the most desirable one, it more than pays the bills. For the first two years I worked as an escort, I had to work ridiculous hours, seven day a week to get enough money to pay the bills and my mortgage, which was my aim. I needed to keep my home. My sanctuary. My reminder of my boys. I couldn’t lose it. Once my house was paid off, I was too far into this lifestyle to get out. The job sucked, literally, but the money was exceptional and I knew I wanted to keep doing what I was doing, but in a classier, more up-market way. That’s when I created my own business and constructed the Cupiditas brand and business model. Cupiditas grew quickly, once people had heard about the top quality service and high-end escorts I had available. Before I knew it, I had high-ranking officials, judges, CEO’s, you name it. Everyone loves Cupiditas and its employees. We cater for males and females, gay and straight, pretty much anything you want we will do, but within reason. Our main business though is escorting. If a high ranking official needs an escort for the evening to attend a function, then we are experts in the field. The girls are all schooled in the finer things in life and are dressed in gorgeous outfits which are fitting that of the clients. Of course, escorting also includes the bedroom if that’s what the client requires.

  None of my workers are into torture or any kind of other fetish. We’re high end and that stuff is out of bounds. We have limits and I always want my staff to feel safe in their jobs. Having top workers like Rosie, Star, Sheila and Papi have made it so that I don’t have to work anymore. Which is perfect for me and I haven’t had a client in over a year. Once I stopped working and looked only after the books and general running of the business, the need for sex disappeared for me. Hence why I haven’t slept with a man since I stopped being on-call. I was having so much sex that the need for it completely fell off my radar once I stopped. I guess having sex up to seven times a day will do that to you. We did lose a few clients because of it, as people find someone they like and they tend to stick with them, but I was able to hand
most of my clients off to the other girls.

  Being an escort was never something I’d planned on. It’s just when my boys died, my home was all I cared about. I needed to keep it. No, I had to keep it. I needed a shitload of money in order to do that. So, being an escort seemed like the only way I would be able to keep my boys alive in my heart. Plus, I was emotionless and lost. Completely desolate, I had no idea what to do with my life and I certainly didn’t care about myself at all. I had no self-worth. Everything I lived for was gone. I was alone and desperate, so I went looking one night. I went into a well-known brothel and asked some questions. The next night I was on my first job, having meaningless sex with a sweaty, tattooed, fat and hairy man by the name of Joe. It was disgusting now that I look back on it. But like I said I couldn’t feel, so I just went with it and let him do whatever he wanted. I faked my way through it. I had only been with one man my entire life, my husband, Danny. And so the first time, even though I felt nothing during the act itself, afterward I was a mess. I didn’t cry though, I haven’t since I identified their bodies. It’s like my tear ducts are closed for business and the permanent floodgate is sealed tight never to open again. I purse my lips and furrow my brows as I think back to how this all started.

  I wonder how Rock will take the news when I tell him what I do?

  I am a Madam.

  I run a high-class escort agency and for three and a half years I whored myself out to the highest bidder. I really don’t think Rock will take too kindly to this news. So for as long as I can possibly draw it out, I will. I need him to get to know me first, to realise all the good before he’s slapped with the catastrophic bad.

  Work was long and boring and I was counting down every minute until I could make my way here – to Amor to see Rock. I think I missed him today.

  At least I think that’s what this feeling is?

  I just want him to be near me and I like the feelings when he’s around. I pull up out the front of Amor and his bike isn’t here yet so I park and make my way inside. I take a seat at the bar and turn facing the door. I’m so excited to see him that every molecule of my being is firing in anticipation.

  I’ve been thinking about the gun in his tea jar all day. I wonder why he has one in his house and if he’s an underground figure then why haven’t I heard of him?

  We have many different clients at Cupiditas, but because we are a high-class escort agency we don’t have any interaction with any motorcycle clubs.

  I hear the bike before I see it and my stomach flips and my heart flutters. I look out the window to see him pulling up on his Harley. He looks through the window and waves. I smile and wait for him to take off his helmet so I can see the gorgeous face that is all Rock.

  He takes off his helmet and walks into the bar. I stay seated I don’t want to seem too eager even though I am extremely impatient to see him. He walks across to me and leans in kissing me passionately without saying one word. My hands run through his hair and he caresses my face with his hands. My tongue finds his and those sparks begin shooting between us again.

  He makes me feel so… alive, and he makes me want to live again.

  He pulls back slowly and rests his forehead against mine as our rapid breathing slows back to normal. Then he steps back and puts his hand out for me to shake. I look at him raising an eyebrow and shake his hand.

  “Hi, I’m Hudson Stone. Nice to officially meet you,” he says.

  I smile brightly, his name is as rugged and manly as he is.

  He swallows a lump and exhales. “So, who is The Violet Widow?”

  I take a deep breath. “Hi, Hudson Stone, I’m Violet… Violet Dyson, nice to meet you.”

  “Your real name is Violet?”

  I laugh and nod.

  “So this whole time I actually knew your real name?”

  I nod again.

  He huffs and shakes his head. “And here I was thinking you were being all top secret and allusive with me. Seems I don’t know you at all,” he says with a smirk. “Oh, and you think I’m original? The Violet Widow? Using Violet when it’s actually your own name? Now that’s really original.”

  “Shut up. If you thought about it, you probably could’ve worked it out. Guess you’re not as smart as you think you are, sir,” I joke and he raises his eyebrow and scoffs.

  “Oh really?”

  “Guess you’re not smart enough to hide your handgun very well either? A tea jar? Really?” I ask, deciding to bring it up now rather than later.

  He freezes to the spot and looks at me with pursed lips and raised eyebrows. “You went snooping?”

  I shrug. “Guess so.”

  He looks at me intently. “Find anything else I should know about?”

  I smile and shake my head. I don’t want to tell him about the biker jacket I found, he’d just deny it again anyway.

  “Okay, well how does that affect this then?” he asks pointing from him to me.

  I shrug and grab his jacket collar and pull him toward me. “It doesn’t,” I whisper against his lips and then kiss him strongly. He pulls back and shakes his head laughing at me. “What?”

  “Well, it’s just you find a handgun in my house and there are no questions asked. I don’t know if that says more about me or you, Violet Dyson?” he says and I bite my bottom lip and shrug.

  “I think it’s just some details that will be aired in time. But right now, Hudson Stone, I want to go back to your place. That is, of course if Midas will have me back?”

  “Midas will have anyone. Don’t think you’re special,” he jokes and I scoff.

  “Careful, Mr. Stone,” I warn and he raises his hands in surrender.

  “Sorry ma’am, I guess the owner of the house would like you back there as well.”

  I smile and stand up in line with him. “Well, that’s good to hear. Maybe the owner of the house will get some more dessert tonight if he behaves himself that is,” I say grabbing his collar and walking toward the door dragging him with me.

  “Well, I’m sure we can work out some kind of arrangement,” he replies with a lewd grin. He walks me to my car and kisses me quickly.

  “Hey, how come you called yourself, Rock?” I ask breaking the kiss.

  “Mum loved Rock Hudson and I was named after him. It was the first thing I could think of,” he says and I smile. “Follow me home?”

  I nod. “Don’t lose me.”

  He walks back to his Harley while I open my Stingray and get in. I hear the bike roar to life while I start my engine. He pulls out and starts the ride to his house and I follow on behind feeling overly excited.

  His name is Hudson. It’s a strong name. It suits him and I can’t help but laugh a little at the fact that he chose Rock, not just because of Rock Hudson, but also when his last name is Stone. He really is the king of original thinking. We pull up in his driveway and he hops off his bike as I pull the car to a stop. He walks over and opens my car door for me.

  “Such a gentleman.”

  “Nah, not me. I’m rugged and manly,” he says slapping my arse when I get out of the car.

  I laugh and shake my head at him. “You’re an idiot that’s what you are,” I reply and he wraps his arm around my waist and walks me to his front door.

  “Yeah well, it takes one to know one.”

  “You’re treading on shaky ground there, Mr. Stone,” I berate and he chuckles opening his front door.

  “Sorry, Miss Dyson, I don’t seem to have a foot to mouth filter when you’re around.” He flicks the lights on as Midas dances around our feet.

  “Hey boy,” I say and scruff his head. He always looks like he’s smiling, which in turn makes me smile.

  “Want a coffee?” Hudson asks and I nod my head. I want to actually spend some time with him before we escape off to the bedroom.

  “Yeah, as long as there’s not a hand grenade in the coffee jar.”

  “No, they’re in my undies drawer.”

  I laugh and walk into the kitchen with him and Midas
follows us closely behind. He turns on the kettle and I really just want to be close to him so I walk over and wrap my arms around his waist from behind embracing him tightly. He chuckles and turns around facing me, pulling me to him and resting his forehead against mine.

  “You really are beautiful you know that?” he says out of nowhere.

  I roll my eyes. “No, I’m not. You’re just saying that so you can have your wicked way with me again.”

  “I think I wore you out last night from the way you’re hobbling around.”

  “Nah, I stubbed my toe at work. It’s got nothing to do with your donkey sized dick.”

  He half-laughs. “Yeah, righto love,” he says in his most bogan accent.

  “So what do you do for work?” he asks and I tense up immediately.

  The smile drains from my face… I can’t tell him, not yet. He will run for sure. So I change the subject. “Okay, it was your massive dick that made me walk this way. I won’t deny it any longer.”

  He smirks and nods like he’s proud of himself. “Hell yeah, little firecracker,” he replies and leans in kissing me softly. He pulls back and licks his lips. “You taste good.”

  “Cherry lip gloss, all the guys love it,” I joke and he raises an eyebrow.

  “All the guys, hey?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m a regular stud,” I say reusing his joke.

  “Fuck off woman. I am a stud. I got you didn’t I?”

  “Maybe, we’ll see how this all pans out.”

  He smiles and rests his forehead back against mine. “Well, I’m keeping my fingers crossed,” he says crossing his fingers and bringing them up in line with our faces. “And my toes,” he whispers and he quickly takes my head in his hands and kisses me firmly.

  My tongue moves into his mouth and caresses his slowly, savouring every inch of him. The kettle boils breaking our kiss and we both pull back and look into each other’s eyes. My brown to his blue and green. I love his eyes, I could gaze into them all day and never get tired of them.

  “Guess I’d better make you a coffee then. How do you like it?”