The Final Act (#4 Bestselling Spotlight Series) (21 page)

Chapter 30

The young woman’s eyes are wide, fear lancing through her features.

We both stare at each other.

Emilia. This must be her.

She is dressed in pyjamas, with bare feet
, and sat on a large bed. Her hair was once dyed blonde, but it’s grown almost all out to a mousy colour. She has blue eyes, and her features are arresting. I can see how she could be considered beautiful. But holed up in this dark room, her face is gaunt, pale and uncared for.

The only furniture is a bed, a TV, and a small chair.

Then she speaks, her voice little more than a whisper.

“Did he send you?”

“Who?” I answer the question on reflex, the strangeness of the situation ushering my reply.

The girl blinks. Then her eyes widen.

“Him,” she breathes. “The Lipstick Stalker.”

I am shaking my head, overwhelmed with
dismay. This poor sad girl is so broken and running half mad after the stalker’s attack.

“No,” I whisper, moving forward slowly. “I’m Isabella Green. I’m an actress. Like you.”

Her face sets to terror again, and I realise I have said the wrong thing.

“I’m not an actress,” she says
. “Please don’t let him think I’m an actress. I’m not an actress anymore.”

“It’s
ok,” I say, holding my hands up. “I’m not here to hurt you. And he can’t hurt you either. You’re safe. I promise.”

She regards me in disbelief, and I feel another wave of deep pity for her.

I move towards the seat, opposite the bed, and point to it.

“May I sit?”

She says nothing, so I sit down carefully.

“Is it just you in this house?” I ask, wondering who is taking care of her. “There’s no family with you?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t have any family. I’m all alone here.”

I hear the housekeeper’s accented tones drift up the stairwell. “No.
The new maid is here now. I told you.”

Hurry Issy. You don’t have long.

“I have some news,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “The stalker is in prison.”

She flinches at his name.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” I repeat. “He can’t get to you.”

She
looks unconvinced.

“He said he could always get to me,” she says. “You don’t know what he can do.”

Her eyes sweep the room, as if she expected him to pounce from any corner.

“
Your name is Emilia,” I say, “isn’t it?”

She nods fearfully.

“I’m here to help you,” I say. “The stalker has a… a friend. Helping him. I need to find out who it is.”

“Yes,” agrees the
girl. “He has powerful friends. He told me.”

“No!” the housekeeper’s voice comes louder. “She is here now. I told you!”

Quickly Issy. The housekeeper is finding you out.

“I need your help,” I say, fear making my words come
rapidly. “I know you wouldn’t speak to the police. But I was hoping you would speak with me.”

My eyes are on
hers. Beseeching. But there’s nothing in her blank gaze.

“Did… Did the stalker mention anything which could help identify him?” I press. “Did he… say anyone’s name, or mention a place?”

The girl is gazing back. It’s difficult to know if she’s even understood what I’ve said.

Then she swallows. “I’m not an actress,” she says in a strange sing-song voice. “Not an actress.” She starts to rock gently, back and forth.

I hear footsteps on the bottom of the stairs.

Oh no. The housekeeper has found me out.

“Please!” I lean forward desperately and touch the girl’s arm. She recoils as though she’s been struck, and as she does so, her pyjama top falls open a little.

My eyes drop to the naked skin underneath, and
I gasp in shock.

Her chest is a lattice of deep, ugly scars.

The girl sees my gaze and quickly tugs the top back across her chest.

“Did he… Did the stalker do that to you?” I breathe, horrified. Her eyes fix on min
e for a sad second. And I know in that instant, he did.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my heart breaking for her. “I’m so, so sorry.
The police thought… They said he didn’t physically harm you.”

She leans a little closer. “I didn’t tell them
anything,” she says. “I didn’t tell the police anything. Just like he told me.”

I put my hand on her arm, and this time she doesn’t recoil. For a moment, we’re looki
ng at one another, joined by a mutual sadness.

“What the
hell
are you doing up here?”

Oh shit. It’s t
he housekeeper.

I turn to see the housekeeper standing, hand on her hip, in high outrage.

“I talk to agency,” she shouts in English. “They no send you.” She switches to Spanish. “Did you come here to steal? You should be ashamed. This lady has been through enough.”

“I didn’t
…” I start, but the housekeeper cuts me off.

“I’ve called the police,” she says
, still in Spanish. “They’ll be here soon. You should get out now, if you know what’s good for you.”

I swallow, taking in Emilia’s frightened face. My hand is still on her arm, and I turn back to her, gripping it.

“Listen to me,” I urge. “You are safe now. Do you understand? He can’t get to you. He can’t ever get to you again. He is locked away, in a different country. I want you to know, that you are safe.”

Emilia’s blank gaze has returned, and she stares back at me.

“America is good place for honest people,” shouts the housekeeper, waving her arms to shoo me out of the room. “People like you, you ruin it for all of us.”

I stand with as much dignity as I can muster for a girl who has just been accused of housebreaking and theft. And make to leave.

“Wait!”

As I move to the door, Emilia’s voice sounds. I turn in surprise. Her tone is far clearer than it had been. Even the housekeeper blinks in shock.

“There was something,” she says, her cool blue eyes blinking. “I heard him talk on the phone once. He said a name.” Emilia frowns. “A strange name,” she adds. “Close. Argile Close. He was asking for money to be sent.”

My eyes widen. Because I recognise her words.

Argile Close
.

That’s not a person. I think t
hat’s a London street.

I’m certain I’ve passed a street called Argyll Close in west London.

“Thank you,” I say.

This could actually be something
!

“Thank you so much.”

Chapter
31

The flight back from LA seems to take three times as long. I confessed to James before boarding, giving him the information I discovered. And though he was angry at my risk, I could tell he was pleased to have a new lead.

When I arrive back at Heathrow, James is there to pick me up, and I rush into his arms. We’ve only been apart 24 hours, but it feels like so much longer.

“I’ve looked on a map, and Argyll Close isn’t a large street,” James tells me excitedly as we drive away from the airport. “This could be a breakthrough.”

Then his face sets sternly, remembering. “Promise me, next time you’ll let me know when you plan to skip the country,” he adds. “Couples are supposed to share things, remember?”

I smile, realising he’s using my own words against me.

“Would you have let me go?” I ask.

“No,” he admits. Then he thinks for a moment. “Not
by yourself,” he adds. “But I could have arranged for some security for you, or accompanied you myself. It would have been safer. That girl could have been dangerous. You had no idea of her mental state.”

My mind flashes back to Emilia’s sad face. Her mental state. I feel a wave of sadness for her.

“Promise me,” he urges. “Don’t do something like that again.”

“Alright,” I concede. “I promise. Next time, I’ll let you know. But I’m hoping there won’t need to be a next time.”

Maybe this new information is all we need.

We arrive back at James’s apartment, and he guides me to the bedroom.

“I’m guessing after your return trip to LA, you’re ready to sleep?” he asks.

I shake my head. Being apart from James has brought a renewed burst of desire for him. Perhaps something about my recent danger is helping too.

I circle my arms around his neck.

“I’m not really sleepy,” I say. “And I had a lot of time to think on the plane.”

“Oh you did?” he raises an eyebrow at my tone of voice. “What were you thinking about?”

“You,” I say, keeping my tone sultry-soft.

“Me?” he pulls me a little closer. “What about me?”

“I was thinking,” I say, moving my face almost to touch his. “About what we should do when I got back.”

James is holding his breath. I walk my fingers slowly up his chest and bring them to rest on his lips.

“I was thinking I should cash in my winnings,” I add, “from that night at the casino.”

James
regards me. “You’re sure you’d like to do that now?” he asks. “You wouldn’t rather get some sleep?”

I shake my head. “I told you,” I say. “I’m not sleepy. In fact, I’m very,
very
awake.” I show him with my eyes that I mean one part of my body in particular.

The short separation has given my lust a turbo charge.

Excitement flashes in his face, and his hardness presses against me.

He feels the s
ame way.

“What would you like to do?” James’s voice is low, as if he hardly dares believe my sudden bravery.

“To begin with,” I say, “I think you should join me in the shower.”

He nods. “I think that would be a very good idea.”

Slowly, he begins to ease up my T-shirt, and then he’s unbuttoning my jeans and letting them fall.

“Now you,” I say, taking advantage of my newfound power. I love seeing him naked.

He strips off his own clothing, and I gaze at his muscular body.

“Shower,” I decide. “Now.”

James takes my hand and leads me into the bathroom adjoining his bedroom. He turns on the shower, and then twists a few extra functions.

In the next second, steamy water is raining from every angle.

“Rainforest function,” he explains. “I thought you’d approve.”

I grin, stepping into the onslaught of warm water, and guiding him in after me by the hand.

Mmmmm.
The shower feels heavenly drumming against my skin. I tip my head back for a moment, letting it run into my long dark hair, massaging my scalp.

Then I feel James’s hands on my body.

“I think you’re very dirty,” he says, “around this area, in particular.”

His hands are soaping my breasts in firm circles, his fingers lingering on my nipples.

Ooooo. That’s so good.

I lean into his tou
ch and feel his erection against my naked skin.

With the warm water
cascading over us, I’m suddenly charged with a deep, dark lust. I want to seize every part of him. To have him invade my body utterly.

The strength of my desire
both frightens and thrills me.

James sees it in my eyes and pulls me close.

“Not here,” I say. “On the bed.”

He steps out of the shower,
wrapping me into a bath towel. I pull him into a deep passionate kiss.

“I want you,” I whisper into his mouth as
we kiss. “I want you now.”

His eyebrows lift. “You are insatiable
, Ms Green,” he says. “I like it.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” I say, dropping my hands to his erection and watching his face convulse with pleasure. “I’d say it’s had the same effect on you.”

James lifts me up and carries me to the bed. Then he places me down, moving beside me.

“What would you like me to do?” he asks. There’s some new energy about him which I’ve never seen before. He’s so eager to please. So turned on by my instruction. It awakes something inside me. Something primal.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers, kissing my throat. I groan at the touch of his lips, my whole body alight.

I need him. I need him to take me, body and soul. I want to crawl inside of his body and have him possess me utterly.

And one particular idea is swirling in my brain.

Can I ask him this? Am I brave enough to voice my real desires?

“I want you…” I swallow, and close my eyes, forcing myself to admit the words. “I want you to fuck my ass,” I whisper.

I hear James take a breath and open my eyes. His face is wide, surprised. But there’s something else there. A carnal lust.

“Really?” he says.

I nod. “Yes.”

He’s breathing heavily, and he pulls me against him. My eyes widen in shock as my body draws in close. He wants this. Badly.

His sudden desire fuels a rush of caution in me.

I’m biting my lip. “Will it hurt?” I ask.

James
strokes a hand along my body, and then his hand moves up to open the bedside cabinet.

“It might
feel strong at the beginning,” he says, “as you’re getting used to the sensation. But I won’t hurt you.”

He moves his hand to my
face.

“It’s more intense than you’ll have felt before,” he says. “
This kind of sex, is very different. You’ll be more open to me than you ever have been. That will make you feel vulnerable.”

More open to him.

My earlier control has evaporated. And I realise I have changed the dynamic completely. It’s all about him being in charge of me. I will be submitting to him utterly.

“And you’ll have to trust me,” he adds. “The more you relax, the better it will feel.”

“Ok,” I nod. But my face must show fear.

James leans in and kisses my mouth.

Then he pulls away, and his face has set dark.

Slowly, he
positions me along the bed. I can feel by the tension in his body how badly he wants this.

“
Turn over,” he says. “Face down.”

I do as he asks, trembling a little.

He runs his hands smoothly over my back, and then down to the base of my spine. When his fingertips drag over my ass, I feel myself shudder.

“Easy baby,” he says. “We’re just getting started.”

He breathes out. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he whispers.

I hear him take an item from the drawer, and then he lays something in front of my face.

I look up to see a long string of beads made of silicone. They’re small at one end, growing to larger at the other.

“These are anal beads,” whispers James, and I feel my stomach clench. “I’m going to use them to relax you. To get you used to the feeling of having something deep in your ass.”

Deep in my ass
. The thought brings a surge of fear. But I drive it down. I want this. I want him to have me like this.

“There are different kinds of anal beads,” explains James. “Some get larger in the other direction. So the smallest beads go in last. But these are for exactly this kind of situation. Stretc
hing and relaxing.”

Stretching
. I’m not sure I like that term.

James lifts the beads away from my face, and I feel his body move back towards my ass.

His hands stroke over my buttocks again, with tantalising softness. Then he makes firmer, kneading movements, sending power jolts of sensation across my ass and upper thighs.

“I’m going to use lubricant,” he says, “and I’m going to work a little into you
with my finger.”

I squeeze my eyes tight shut and feel his finger slide down between my buttocks. Then he’s circling the centre of my ass.

I feel myself tense.

“You need to relax,” whispers James. “Let yourself feel the experience.”

He continues circling, alternating between softer and firmer pressure.

I feel myself open to him, the tension easing.

“That’s right baby,” he says, “let me inside of you.”

And as he says the word, he slips a lubricated finger deep inside my ass.

Oh!

I’ve had him here before. But somehow, with the knowledge of what’
s going to happen next, it’s much more intense this time.

His finger slides out, and I feel the hard shape of the beads pressed against my ass.

“Now,” whispers James. “Are you ready for the first bead?”

I nod, pressing my face down into the bed.

James pushes the hard shape firmly against me, and I feel the bead slip inside.

It feels so strange, I gasp.

“Shhh,” says James. He strokes my hair. “Did I hurt you?”

I shake my head. “It just feels strange, is all.”

“Strange bad?”

I shake my head again. “Just… strange.”

“Let’s try another bead,” says James. “This one is a little larger.”

Again, I feel the pressure, the hard shape. And then my
body surrenders, and the bead is inside me.

It doesn’t hurt at all
, but it’s a bizarre feeling.

James strokes along the side of my buttock.

“I’m going to go a little faster now,” he whispers.

I nod and feel him push three beads, in smooth succession, into my ass.

The last is noticeably larger, and I make a sharp intake of breath as it pushes me open, sparking the nerve endings across the centre of my ass.

“They’ll get bigger now,” says James. “I want you to be ready for an increased sensation, Issy.”

His hand strokes a wide circle, over the base of my back, and over the tops of my buttocks.

“You have such a beautiful ass,” he murmurs. “I’ve
fantasised about fucking you here.”

His hand slide between my buttocks, and the pressure is firmer this time.

Oh!

The bead stretches against me. It’s almost painful, but not quite.

“Three more,” breathes James. I can hear the desire in his voice.

Three more.

His thumbs knead at my buttocks, and I feel myself giving in to him, letting go. And then he pushes firmly, driving another bead inside of me.

Arrrgh!
This feels more like pain. But once the bead is inside, the pain is gone. And James is back to stroking me, murmuring for me to stay relaxed.

Now there are more beads inside me, the feeling is much deeper. I can feel them pushing further back. It’s such an alien sensation. As though I’m being entered more fully than I ever knew was possible.

This is what you wanted
, I remind myself.
To give yourself to him completely
.

I feel his thumb rest back on the beads, and ready myself.

“Your ass is small,” he whispers. “I’ll need to go slowly with you.”

He pushes
again, and I bite my lip as the bead stretches me wide.

“Arrrgh!” I groan.

“Shhh.” James is caressing my skin again. “One more baby. One more.”

“I don’t know if I can…”

“You can,” he whispers. “If you’re going to take me here, you need to do this.”