Deliciously British

by Scarlett Avery

  I grin wide, flashing back to a scene.

  “What?” Ethan asks.

  “She was so eager when you suggested role-playing.”

  When Ethan puts his mind to it, he can come up with the wickedest ideas.

  “Frankly, I never thought she’d get into it that much.” It’s his turn to grin.

  When we were with Adele, Ethan suggested it many times, but she consistently turned us down. She felt it was beneath her to play a French maid, a desperate nurse, the slutty next-door housewife, the bad student in need of punishment, the naughty secretary in need of a spanking or any other role along that line. She felt that a woman didn’t need to stoop that low in order to keep her man pleased. Although Adele embraced the idea of a threesome, she could be very uptight and close-minded for a lot of things. It’s a shame really. Not only did we have loads of fun with Delilah, but afterwards, the sex was explosive.

  “She played the perfect foreign student who found herself stranded in a strange city without a place to stay, luggage or money for food.” Ethan flashes me a mischievous smile.

  “When you said you’d take her in for the night from the kindness of your heart on one condition, I expected her to blush furiously or to laugh nervously—after all, it was her first time.” I was truly taken aback by her boldness. “Damn, she finished your sentence before you did.”

  “When her gaze met mine, I was putty in her hands. With those big, beautiful, imploring blue eyes fixated on me, she innocently lifted up her top and flashed her tits.” I still remember Ethan’s gobsmacked expression. She was giving him what he wanted before he even asked.

  “I particularly loved how she pinched her nipples and moaned. Like she needed to convince us.”

  “Exactly, Xander. I seriously thought of punishing her, but it was just too good.” She was so illegally hot and so into it that Ethan had to put some water in his wine and curb his dominant nature. “It’s not like she didn’t know what effect she had on us. We’ve been gushing all over her since the first day we met her.”

  “She definitely turned the tables on us.” I shake my head still amazed by her performance.

  “I swear, mate, my mouth was salivating at the sight of her magnificent globes. When she said in that seductive Texan accent of hers that she’d be more than willing to show her gratitude for such generosity by allowing us to defile her mouth and pussy, I nearly fainted. She was perfect in the role,” Ethan marvels.

  “She was a natural,” I agree.

  “And she looked hot as fuck. I wish she could walk around in that outfit all the time.” Ethan chuckles.

  “The extremely short shorts and painted-on transparent deep V white tee—which you demanded she wore without a bra—were a real stroke of genius. The way her massive tits were just hanging there had my cock at full attention.” The X-rated outfit only accentuated her luscious curves.

  “It wouldn’t have been nearly as sensual had she been naked showing up at my door.” We had Delilah change at my place while Ethan and I waited at his. It made the wait even better. “Seeing her perfect pink nipples peering through that shirt as a greeting when I opened the door is an image that will be seared in my mind forever.”

  “I’m afraid it’s the same for me. I’ll never forget how beautiful she looked for the rest of my life.”

  “Don’t forget the ridiculous heels,” he exclaims.

  “Your shoe fetish definitely paid off.” Ethan bought Delilah the entire outfit. He paid particular attention to her foot attire. He got her a pair of outrageous red shoes. They were so high, she could barely walk in them. Because of their vertiginous height, they forced her to stick her butt out when she walked and push her tits forward. They also accentuated her calves. I was particularly fond of the wedge part in the front of the shoe. Honestly, it was a beautiful thing. Yeah, you could say that it was a bit cliché, but that only heightened the fantasy. “Not to mention that she played the role to a T.”

  “All the way down to giving us the best BJ switch ever.” He winks. That night Ethan proved that he’s the ultimate kinky ringmaster.

  “Did she ever. Having her naked and down on her knees—still wearing those indecent heels—in front of our eager cocks alternating between a blowjob and a handjob until we both climaxed at the same time all over her tits was mind-blowing.”

  “Who knew she’d not only end up being the perfect little submissive, but that she’d end up playing the ideal naughty sex slave,” Ethan says.

  “What a little minx.”

  “Yeah, but she’s our little minx,” he concludes. I nod. There’s nothing much more to say.

  For a few long minutes, we both stare out at the garden in front of us until I break the silence. “I can tell you this, I’ll keep that fantasy looping in my head all day long. Since I’m going to have a miserable time hopping from one appointment to another in the rain, that will be my salvation.”

  “Same here. I doubt I’ll be back here until eight by the time I swing by my office to brief the team and catch up on a day’s worth of emails, text messages and calls.”

  “I should be back around the same time since Jezebel and I will be spending two hours with the choreographers. Considering their studio is on the other side of town, I’ll have a jolly old time getting back home. Instead of ordering takeaway or stopping by a catering house, why don’t we go to Bocca di Lupo in Piccadilly Circus for dinner? I haven’t been there in ages and no one masters rustic and authentic Italian cuisine like they do,” I suggest.

  “That’s a great idea, Xander. As much as it kills me that we won’t be able to spend the night corrupting Delilah, it will be good for the two of us to just hang out.”

  “You’re definitely not as pretty or nearly as sexy as she is, but I guess you’ll do as my date for tonight.” I grin from ear to ear.

  “Wanker.” Ethan punches my arm playfully.

  CHAPTER 40

  Ethan

  “What a bloody mess,” I grumble when I look at my watch. I lean forward and place my hands against the seat, assessing the gridlock traffic in front of us. Although we’re on the main street, you’d think we were trapped inside a tunnel. Here I am sitting at the back of a taxi in the middle of a sea of cars. We’ve barely moved in the past ten minutes. “This city is so bloody congested. I’d sooner be there by walking,” I say.

  “I’m sorry, sir. The construction has closed the road down to one lane,” the taxi driver explains. “Considering this is one of the major arteries to the city, it’s an absolute nightmare regardless of the time of the day. Of course, the rain isn’t helping much. At least it’s still the middle of the day. I know it may not feel like it, but trust me, it’s a salvation. During rush hour, I swear I’d rather someone shoot me than sit idle behind the wheel of my car wasting petrol. No wonder the air quality in the city is shit.” Leave it to any self-respecting Londoner to tell it like it is.

  “So there’s no way of assessing how long it will take me to get to my appointment? Is there a way for us to use a side street to cut through this horrendous traffic?” I ask impatiently.

  “The worst part is that we’re not that far.” The driver points in front of him. “I’m nearing a side street that would require a bit of a detour, but it might get us there faster.”

  Finally, a glimmer of hope. “How much faster?”

  “Judging by how slowly we’ve been moving in the past fifteen minutes, I’d say that it will cut our time by half.”

  “Let’s do it.” I tap the driver’s shoulder. “The second you can get me out of here, please do.”

  “Consider it done, sir.”

  It’s been an exceptional day so far, but it’s been extraordinarily stressful. Due to the number of clients I had back to back, I found myself all over the city, which means I’ve been hopping from one taxi to the next. When the traffic is flowing, I don’t mind, but when it’s like this, it drives me mental. Along with the demanding traveling schedule, I ended up repeating the same story over and
over again. As irritating as it may be, I know it’s a small price to pay for the outcome I anticipate.

  Thank God Ashley made my life much easier by uploading Calysta Knight’s artwork on a private site. Explaining what a painting looks is an utter waste of time. Art isn’t something that can be properly expressed in words—unless we’re talking about literature. Anything visual must be seen. That’s the only way you can fully appreciate the intricacies of a piece and the brilliance of its creator. It’s true that nothing beats the real thing, but what Ashley did helps immensely in lining up prospective buyers. As a result, other than a duo of brothers—who also happen to be some of the best lawyers in the city—all of the clients I met with today are in. Each has given me carte blanche to bid well into six figures in order to ensure they’ll be the proud owner of one of the coveted pieces.

  I look down at my watch again and sigh in frustration. I lean against my seat and decide to make a phone call I was hoping not to have to make. It’s better to apologize than to be tardy. I pull out my phone to call my next appointment.

  “Valerie,” I say when my client picks up.

  “Ethan, I’m glad you called.” I could be mistaken, but she sounds relieved.

  “I’m sorry. I’m running late. I’m still at the back of a taxi—”

  “Don’t tell me, you’re trapped in hell like I am?”

  Valerie Combrinck has one of those typical slicing British senses of humor. I love how she doesn’t mince her words. I guess it’s her frank talk and business acumen that landed her on the list of the richest women in the UK.

  “How did you know?” I ask, surprised. “Are you a psychic?”

  She laughs. “Hardly, but if I were, I wouldn’t have to work as hard as I do now.” This woman could have retired a long time ago, but she keeps going. It’s no longer about the money, it’s about the wins. I can definitely relate.

  “I was worried there. You already have a stellar resume. I thought you added one more notch in your belt and I had missed reading about it on the Internet.” It’s my turn to laugh.

  Valerie cofounded BondCap with her brother Henry. They’ve amassed their fortune by negotiating deals for all of the big designer franchises located on Bond Street and Old Bond Street—the wealthiest shopping area in the city. Add to that the fact that Valerie and her brother were early investors in Google, PayPal and Yahoo. They were also quick to jump on the opportunity when Facebook went public. She’s sharp, smart, excessively rich and an art lover. In other words, she’s my ideal client.

  “To answer your question, I’ve been sitting at the back of my chauffeured car desperately trying to get some work done since I’m trapped in this gridlock, but it’s to no avail. I’m far too frustrated and impatient to focus. In fact, I was just about to call you. When I saw your number on my phone, I figured you were in the same boat. Had you already been waiting for me at my office, my assistant would have called. I was hoping I’d be able to make it to our appointment in time, but alas, my chauffeur tells me I’m at least half an hour away.” Thank God, I’m not the only one who’s late.

  “It seems I’m closer than you are. The driver tells me I’m only a few minutes away.”

  “Ethan, let’s just make it simple. Let’s push the meeting to three o’clock. I’ll get Penelope to push back all of my other appointments. That will give me half an hour upon arrival to get my thoughts sorted. That way, I won’t still be fuming when we sit down to meet.”

  Yeah, it’s much preferable to meet with Valerie when she’s in a good mood. “That’s excellent. It’s been go, go, go for me all day. I’ll take this opportunity to grab a bite to eat. I’ll stop by for a quick sandwich and a coffee in your neighborhood.” With only a few hours of sleep in my system, I could use a jolt of caffeine to keep me going for the rest of the day. “Once I feel human again, I’ll make my way to your office.” I chuckle.

  “Brilliant. I’ll see you soon, Ethan.”

  “Indeed you will,” I say, hanging up the call.

  “It shouldn’t be much longer now, sir,” the taxi driver announces, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror.

  “Actually, dear friend, I have more time than I thought. Why don’t you leave me on the corner here?” I say, pointing in front of me. “I’ll just walk up to a sandwich shop I particularly fancy for lunch.”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  The taxi driver pulls to the left and, after paying my fare and tip, I hop out. I open my umbrella, pull up my collar to shelter my neck from the wind and start strolling towards the eatery. I barely have time to take a few steps before my phone rings again. At first I think it’s Valerie calling me back, but when I see the name flashing across my screen, I grin wide. “Xander, what’s up?”

  “I’m having one of those days. It’s only a quarter past two and I could use a stiff drink.” He lets out a long exhale. His stress level seems to be as high as mine.

  “I can certainly sympathize.”

  “Are you in between meetings?” he asks.

  “Yes and no.” I quickly share my nightmarish traffic story with my best friend. “I’m on my way to the Cheese Meltdown for one of their colossal and complicated grilled cheese sandwiches and a giant cup of coffee, of course. I’m famished and I need a boost of energy,” I explain as I turn right at the first street.

  “That sounds like a perfect plan. If I weren’t on the other side of the city, I’d seriously consider joining you.”

  “I’d welcome the company.” I take another right and keep strutting leisurely. At this point I’m excited because I’m only a few feet away from sinking my teeth into a delicious meal. “Here I was complaining about the traffic, when in fact it’s awarded me a much-needed break,” I exclaim when I see the distinctive signage ahead of me. I tilt the umbrella forward to keep the rain at bay.

  “On a different note, I wanted to let you know that I made reservations at Bocca di Lupo for eight-thirty tonight. Why waste time going back home? Let’s just meet at the restaurant. I’m going to need a drink—okay, more like three in a row—and a hearty meal to help me forget this hectic day.”

  “I like the way you think. I’ll use any excuse to avoid being trapped in any more of this horrendous—” Sensing that I’m only a few doors down, I lift my umbrella so I can see in front of me and in that moment, my entire world turns upside down. I stop dead in my tracks with the phone still glued to my ear and my mouth gaping wide.

  “Ethan?” Xander calls. I know I should answer him, but I can’t. My mind is racing at the speed of light trying to put two and two together. I blink a few times, unable to believe my own two eyes. Jesus. If I were in the desert, I’d be willing to accept the fact that I’m witnessing a mirage. I know it’s wishful thinking on my part because I’m surrounded by tall buildings and cement instead of sand and century-old ruins. Not to mention that the honking of horns is a constant reminder that I’m in London and not Cairo, Egypt. “Ethan? Are you still there?” Xander asks again. This time his voice is more pressing. As the person standing in front of me waves my way, I know that the sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach is real.

  “No bloody way,” I finally manage to say. It’s only three words, but I can’t offer more.

  “What are you talking about, Ethan?”

  “I can’t believe this,” I whisper.

  “You’re not making any fucking sense, mate. What’s gotten you so distracted? Did something happen? Is there an accident?” Xander asks on the other side.

  “Ethan?” The person with an inviting smile calls my name. Now it’s impossible for me to pretend that I’m sleepwalking.

  “Adele?” I know it’s futile to ask the question since I recognize her. She hasn’t changed. Not one bit.

  “What? Adele? As in our ex Adele? She’s there? She’s standing in front of you? Are you fucking kidding me?” Xander is firing questions at me, but there’s no way I can answer them. “She shows up after—”

  “Let me call you back, mate.”
/>   CHAPTER 41

  Ethan

  Of all the people in the world, Adele, aka our ex-girlfriend and the woman we lived with for six months, is the last person I expected to ever see again. From the confusing story she blurted out when she politely refused our marriage proposal, she was giving up her apartment in London and moving back in with her parents in Henley-on-Thames. Apparently they felt that life in the big city had turned her daughter into a depraved slut who was so desperate for affection that she’d consider entering into a sick and perverted relationship.

  After walking out on us, she never gave any sign of life and I know for a fact that Xander reached out to her. For months I was still secretly hoping to see her, but soon I came to the conclusion that she was now living in one of the most affluent villages located about an hour from central London, there were few opportunities for our paths to cross. Not to mention that even though she still worked in London, we no longer ran in the same circles. Xander remained in the music industry, but he focuses his energy on indie talent, whereas the company Adele works for prefers to represent billboard chart toppers. Eighteen fucking months and I have to bump into her now.

  “Ethan, it’s so good to see you again,” she says, approaching me. She closes her umbrella and pulls up the hood of her dark navy raincoat.

  “Adele.” I pause, looking for my words. “What are you doing in this neighbourhood?” Perhaps it’s not the most eloquent question, but at least it buys me time to gather my thoughts after the initial shock.

  She looks up at me and pulls up the side of her lips. It’s not a smile per se. “You look good. In fact, you look as handsome as ever.” Is she skirting my question?