The Gentleman Has Left the Building (4 page)

A very petite
brunette stalked over with a tray; she wore a black shift dress
that hugged her breasts and hips, and high, nude heels. Just the
kind of outfit I’d love to see Nicole in. Ahem.

“Champagne?”
she said.

And she had a
French accent. Ooh la la; bonne soir, Magdalena. Je suis mange tout
le grande tete du vache? (That was the grand sum of the French I
remembered from high school, and I think it stood for
I am peas
a big cow head
).

“Don’t mind if
I do,” I croaked, folding my fingers around the skinny stem of a
flute. She shot me a filthy smile--the kind that makes a woman’s
eyes sparkle and her shoulders heave--before stalking off up the
stairs.

Then the music
began and the lights dimmed. My first swingers' party.

Fucking
hell.

Elijah’s bold
company was comforting as the room began to fill. It wasn’t a
heaving crowd but then it wasn’t a massive space either, and Aidan
seemed to bring mostly couples through for drinks. They were
professionals, some younger than others, and they were dressed for
a dinner party. Oh, there was a hint more cleavage than might have
been appropriate, the odd tighter shirt on a guy--but really, from
the smart chit-chat to the polite hair-tosses and smiles, they were
shockingly normal.

I didn’t know
whether to be relieved….or disappointed.

“Are you
waiting for a girl?” I asked Elijah. We’d claimed a spot on the
terrace opposite the group of leggy, willowy things, and he’d
swiped beers from one of the glass fridges.

“Nope. I prefer
couples, actually. Could find a girl in a club.”

I nodded as if
I knew exactly what he was talking about. Oh yes, I book parties
for all my threesome needs, ra ra. “Is that your…thing?”

“Well.” He
chuckled, swinging his bottle between his thumbs. “I’ve got a lot
of things.”

“Rhys!" Aidan
was dragging a girl-shaped creature along by the hand, but I
couldn’t see much of her between the oscillating partygoers and the
shade of the darkening sky.

“I’ve got
somebody I’d like you to meet,” he chirped gleefully, pressing her
hand into mine. “This is Lei-Lei.”

She cleared her
throat. “You can call me Leila.” She smiled and raked her nails
across my palm, just lightly.

Oh fuck.
Fuck.

I didn’t know
where to look. Her face alone made me feel indecent. She’d drawn
her auburn waves up so they fell about her face in layers, and I
got the impression she’d sorted it into handfuls for easy grabbing
later on. Her lips and cheekbones were streaked with raspberry, and
her fitted little jersey dress hugged a pair of sloped, peeking
breasts. And her legs…seriously. When did a woman wear stockings
unless she was trying to seduce some poor sod?

Oh, let it be
me. I'd change my name by deed-poll if I had to. Poor Sod Frost has
a ring to it, right?

“Aid says you
volunteered to look after me,” she said. “That’s really nice of
you.”

“Yeah. Well.” I
dropped her hand; if I kept hold of it much longer then I’d start
sucking her fingers. “Can’t have you alone in a place like this,
eh?”

“So what do you
think, Lei-Lei?” Aidan patted me roughly on the shoulder. “Good
choice? Do I bring home the goods, or what?”

“Ignore him.”
She rolled her eyes as she took my arm. “He’s always this
obnoxious.”

Elijah brushed
her shoulder. “Would the lady like a drink?” he asked.

“Oh, please.
But just a small one.”

He gave me a
thumbs up and a wide grin as he disappeared in the kitchen, eying
up a blond in a suit on his way.

“Lei-Lei, do I
read him the riot act, or will you?” Aidan narrowed his eyes at me.
“She’s got a three-point code.”

I blinked.
Panicked. “A what?”

“Seriously,
Aid--do one!” She moved from me to tickle him and he wriggled away
from her, grunting.

“Okay, okay,”
he groaned. “I’m leaving. You two have fun now. Don’t do anything
Marc Anthony wouldn’t do!”

I looked at
Leila as she returned to my arm, and we both burst into giggles.
Mine were manly giggles, of course--mainly because I was watching
her breasts quiver. They were rubbing just slightly against my
elbow, and nnnggh…I felt the firm grate of her nipple. Jesus.

“So.” I guided
her back to the terrace wall I’d been sitting on and watched as she
sank down, tucked her knees together. Stocking-clad legs. Dainty
heels. Where was I, again? “What brings you here?”

She cocked her
head. “I could say the same to you.”

“Touché.” I
swallowed. “I guess…I’m looking for something different. Some
fun.”

“That makes two
of us, then.” She edged closer towards me on the wall, our
shoulders bumping. “How long have you known Aidan…?”

“Not long.
Why?”

“Because you’ve
got that look on your face that says,
what the fuck am I doing
here?
And that could only happen if you didn’t know him very
well.” She giggled again and it was aural porn. “He’s a bit of a
naughty boy, hmm?”

I frowned.
There are some things a man doesn't ever need to know about his
mates. “He is…?”

“Ah, don’t
worry. I promise not to abuse you. Well.” The giggle climbed an
octave as her fingers played over my thigh.

It was then
that I noticed the chunk of an emerald on her third finger. Ah,
fuck. It sniggered at me in the candle-light;
like you had a
chance, anyway.

“So…um. How
long have you been engaged?” I asked.

“A while.” She
drew her hand back and fiddled with the ring. “What about you, are
you with someone?”

“Me? No. No.
Single.” Another gulp. “So how come you’re, erm…” I gestured to the
house weakly. "Here?” And where was the idiot who’d let her come to
this thing alone?

She knew what I
was thinking. I saw it in her bemused smile. “I’m allowed,
Rhys."

“Allowed to
what?”

She pressed her
hand back on my thigh, just tickling the inside. She might as well
have scraped it with a razor because the whole hulking surface of
me was alkaline desire.

“You know," she
murmured. "Allowed to play.”

“Really?” I
said it a lot louder than I meant to, and it was weighed down with
a suspicion I didn’t know I had.

“Really.” She
laughed. “You’ll find it’s quite normal at a party like this.”

“This isn’t
your first one, is it?” I said dryly.

“Kind of. Aidan
told me he had somebody I’d like, so…”

She was telling
the truth. It softened the flush along her collarbone, caused the
pout of her lips to swell. In that second, putting a hand on her
knee felt the most natural thing in the world.

“That makes two
of us,” I whispered. I loved the way her smile flashed me a hint of
pale pink tongue.

“Yeah…where
have our drinks got to, do you think?”

I glanced about
the terrace, squinting in the candle light. “Elijah’s--um.” Oh dear
God. Elijah was sitting back in a deck chair, still fully clothed,
but the woman in the suit was bobbing slowly in his lap. He had a
fistful of hair as he grinned up at me.

“He’s being
blown on the patio,” she said with comic normalcy. “Now there’s a
man who doesn’t waste any time.”

“What the fuck?
He’s barely been gone five minutes. Do they sprinkle everyone with
magic fuck dust at the door?”

“Something like
that.” She patted my leg as she started up. “I’ll go and--”

I eased her
back down gently. “No, no. I’ll get the drinks; you stay put.”

A cinnamon
eyebrow arched at me; playful, eager. Inviting. “Is that an
order?”

“Would you like
it to be?” Oh fuck. I was better at this than I thought.

The kitchen was
full and raucous now, wine-tainted laughter rising above the music
and the click click of heels dancing over the stone floor.
Magdalena refilled her tray of glasses as she fought off the
swatting hands of two older men. I spotted Aidan near the doorway
and hurried over, tugging him away from his clipboard.

“Aid,” I said
through my teeth. “I want to know what you’ve drugged her
with.”

The wide smirk
almost split his face. “Who, Lei-Lei? She doesn’t need drugging.
She’s like that all the time.” He seemed to find my gape of horror
vastly amusing. “Not for everyone, you pillock. Didn't I tell you
that you're hot? Like her. A proper ten there, huh?”

“A proper ten?
She’s like--like--”

“She’s like,
left on her own at a party full of carnivores,” he cut in, leaning
to whisper. “Now listen up: be courteous. Take her home, enjoy
yourself.” A pause, just for effect. He wanted to hear me swallow.
“She likes it when you tell her what to do.”

I should have
asked how he knew that but frankly, I was past caring. I nodded
dutifully, mouthed my thanks and hurtled back towards the bar,
where I swiped two glasses from Magdalena’s fresh tray. The first
one disappeared down my throat in a single mouthful; the second, I
took back to Leila and proffered it like a badge of war.

“Ooh,
Champagne.” She stood up to accept it. “Thank you, Rhys.”

“A pleasure.
So…um." Conversation. It begged to be made. "What do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer.
Tax, acquisitions, that kind of thing. How about you?”

“Advertising. I
design--hey, what are you doing?”

She teetered on
tip-toes to examine my earlobe. “Sorry. Just checking for an
earring.” She bit her lip. “Long story. You don’t mind, do
you…?”

“No, no.” I
lifted the glass from her hand, stretched forward to balance it on
the wall, and that was when I felt it: her warm mouth and flat
teeth grazing along my ear. “
Oh
.”

“You don’t
mind?”

Her voice was
muffled with breathy languor, and I found myself wrapping am arm
around her waist. The scent of her hair rushed up into my
nostrils--sugar and nutmeg and mellow heat and hairspray--I just
wanted…

…to kiss
her.

But she got
there first.

We played
tongue games. She was the kitten. I was the ball of string. Then
when I got over the initial rush of it--she’s kissing me, fuckin’
A!--I relaxed into it, crossed the border, took charge. The way she
arched back as I leaned in, pressed up to me…electric. The house,
the people, they fell away. Sparks spewed indecently and I felt
like we ought to stop and clean up our mess.

“Rhys,” she
said softly, “we don’t have to stay here.”

Oh, she knew
what she wanted, all right. Everything about this was too good to
be true. Well...aside from the emerald on her finger which made me
nervous if I looked at it for too long.

In the slope of
her neck, I mouthed words before I said them. Needed to practice my
rusty charms. To be desired, the thick, coarse pull of it, I'd
almost forgotten how addictive it was. “I could take you home with
me, if you want.”

“We’ll go to my
place--ahh…” She mewed as I sucked at the hollows of her throat.
“It’s only ten minutes away.”

“Okay then.
Good. Good.”

I lead her back
through the simmering party with a firm grip on her hand. Defences
were broken and restraint had waned; there were bodies dressed with
each other on the stairs and in the corners. But they were dull.
Boring. This girl at the end of my arm with her pulse shivering
against mine--she was the big news.

“Sneaking off
already? You whore.” Aidan grabbed Leila by the waist and she
pretended to slap him.

“Hey. Less of
that, please.” I sounded like someone’s dad.

“Rhys, we’re
all whores here. It’s okay.” He released Leila, draped her jacket
over my shoulder and then pushed the two of us together so that we
bumped awkwardly. “Ah, look at you two! All bashful and horny. My
work here is done.” He gave a great, mocking sigh, a wink, and then
bombed back off towards harassed Magdalena.

On the terrace,
the air had been warm. Maybe it was Leila’s proximity or the great
cloud of body heat emanating from the party. As we stepped out on
to the pavement, the breeze caught me right in the face and my skin
burned in the cool grip of it.

We were
free.

“Do you always
let him talk to you like that?” I found myself saying.

“Oh, don’t
worry about Aidan, seriously. I’ve known him for ages. He’s like my
brother.” She squeezed my arm. “It was very sweet of you to stand
up for me though.”

“Just being a
gentleman.”

“Ooh, I’m
spoiled.” She giggled, and the high little octaves lunged to a
crude chuckle. “I hope you’re not always this courteous. Not
everywhere.”

Thank fuck for
the belt that obscured my hard-on. I was dizzy with the loss of
blood from my brain.

The flirting
only got worse from that point. I kept trying to steer away from
innuendo--hell, I needed a break before we started proper--but she
was leading in more ways than one, and just a tiny inflection on a
word made my heart thunder. She dragged on syllables, slid her gaze
to me with deliberate slowness. When she bit her lip, when it grew
plump under those teeth…I shoved her up against somebody’s fence
and took her mouth until she tugged on my collar in complaint. Poor
girl needed to breath.

We made it
through the lobby of her smart apartment building, into the dimly
lit lift…and then the walls beckoned again. Close the space. I took
her hair in fistfuls this time and rubbed my cock against her
belly. Don’t get me wrong--I was still nervous. I ached with it in
the pit of my stomach, but she tasted syrupy, like an antidote. If
I could eat her all up, I’d be better. Mmmph.

The hall of her
apartment smelled like candles and coffee. We kissed with grinning
mouths as our jackets were peeled away, and then she led me to a
door in the dark. The lamp swallowed the room in a buttery glow;
there was a massive bed, book cases, a carpet that winced with the
weight of me. No picture frames, no dressing gown...this was for
guests.