The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone (158 page)

Hunter had confused me considerably. He had his choice of women, there had even been three willing specimens in the same room as us, but he had spent his time, money and attention on me.

He knew I didn’t entertain; none of the performers did, so why he had even asked had baffled me.

I would never sleep with someone like Hunter, even outside of the club, though he was the only man that had stirred something in me since . . . him.

Hunter was a force to be reckoned with, and my only rule when arriving in London, stipulated no Dom’s . . . at all. No matter what!

But Holy Hell, the man radiated rawness, an intense current of pure carnal appetite that confirmed he would fuck me hard and make me come even harder.

I had sensed it. Shit, I had even tasted it as it poured from him in thick waves tonight.

But to submit to a man was a definite No No!

A distinct never ever, ever again.

“Lay, is that you?” Sara’s voice filtered through the thin walls and I rolled my eyes.

“No it’s the local pervert come to sniff your knickers.”

What a stupid bloody question?

“Rob wants to know if you wanna join us, babe?”

My eyes rolled again. “Tell Rob to stick his knob in a high speed blender and plug it straight into the nearest electricity power plant!” I whispered to myself.

“No, I’m good” I answered instead.

I really couldn’t see what my best friend saw in the man. He was an arsehole, always coming on to me and strolling round our flat naked, as if the sight of his bony ass and even bonier penis would make me swoon and bend over the couch for him.

Complete Utter Arsehole!!

The microwave pinged its heads-up that my hot chocolate was ready, and taking it out, I crossed the room and settled onto the window seat.

This seat was the reason I rented the place. The rest of the place had been a derelict bombshell, the floors and walls completely destroyed and the bathroom had looked like something out of Auschwitz.

It had amazed me how the landlord could lease it in such a dire state, but as soon as I had approached the window; I knew I had to have the place.

So I had spent the last of my meagre savings and fixed the place up, but my landlord had given me a reduction in the rent for doing it, so all was not done in vain.

Sara had joined me a few months later and given me half of what I had spent on the place.

Settling my backside on the large flowery cushion I had made, I gazed out at a night-time view of Battersea Park.

Even at this late hour, there were still people scattered about. Some lovers holding hands, out for a late night stroll; some hookers, leaning against gate posts as their eyes scanned the area for potential clients, and a few men, each one of them had their heads down, as if to shield their faces from the world.

One particular man caught my attention as I blew my chocolate and took a sip. His long black overcoat billowed out behind him as the wind beat against him. His head was down, his eyes trained on the ground but he didn’t move, just stood immobile with both his hands buried in his pockets for the longest time.

It wasn’t until he lifted his head and gave me a side angle view of his features that a shiver coursed through my body, the familiar feeling of vulnerability worked its way into my brain and my heart pounded rapidly against my chest.

“Holy Shit!” I wheezed as I eased my way backwards into the darkness of the room, my eyes trained on the window as though he would levitate from the ground, open it and climb in.

It couldn’t be! No, not here! Not right outside my fucking flat!

“Lay?” Sara’s voice filtered through my distress as she stepped in front of me and took my hand, “Christ Lay, you’re shaking.”

Her tight blue eyes focused on mine and as she felt my knees buckle, she led me over to the sofa and lowered me gently down.

“Lay? What the hell, babe?”

“He’s here . . .” I choked out as I turned my pale face towards the window. Sara frowned and went to approach the window but I grabbed her hand and shook my head in distress. “Sara, No!”

She narrowed her eyes and scowled at me before pulling away and striding determinedly over to the window.

She squinted as she studied the scene but then shrugged and turned to me. “There’s no-one there apart from a few whore’s and a couple . . . who seem to be fucking against my car!” she exclaimed as she growled low.

Her fist battered on the window as she shouted for them to shift. “Ignorant twats!”

I hid my smirk from her as she continued to batter the window in her attempt to move on the exhibitionists.

“Sara. They’re in the middle of banging hot sex. You have no chance!” I said beside her, now risking a look when she had declared the coast free.

Who wouldn’t sneak a glimpse at a couple shagging against Sara’s car?

The girl currently being nailed against the bonnet of Sara’s car lifted her face towards our window and waved cheerfully.

“Oh, it’s Suzy” Sara declared before she waved back and stuck her thumb up, silently giving them permission to carry on.

My eyes widened as I stared at Sara. “What?” she asked innocently.

I shook my head in humour and risked another glance towards the park, but no-one grabbed my attention.

“See, nobody there” Sara said as she gently rubbed my arm and disappeared into the kitchen area.

Strange. I was sure I had seen him.

Rob walked into the room and I quickly picked up my mug and headed towards my bedroom. “I’m off to bed, love” I shouted to Sara, “start my new temp job at NSC tomorrow and I wanna get a good night in.”

Sara nodded and smiled as she walked over to me and planted a kiss on my cheek “Sure, babe.”

Rob roamed his eyes over my body and then smiled. Well, I think it was a smile, sort of a grimace with lots of teeth.

Closing the door behind me and switching on my nightlight, I stripped and pulled on my shorts and vest before climbing into the soft cloud that was my bed.

This was the one luxury I had afforded myself. It was a wrought iron four poster I had salvaged from an antique shop and I had brought it back to its original condition with a lot of time, sweat and love and it was absolutely stunning.

My mind wandered at what this bed could have become if he hadn’t broken everything.

No! Not going there Layla.

My fingers stroked along the bedpost as an image of him came to my mind. Him behind me, his mouth at my ear as his long fingers explored my body, their torturous journey lighting every single nerve ending they whispered across.

I moaned as my hips circled against the image and heat flooded my system.

If I was honest I missed it, the life I had. The utter pleasure he had, at the beginning, bestowed upon me had been mind-blowing.

He had been godlike in bed, his sheer experience and confidence in fucking had drove me to pleasure’s beyond anything I had ever experienced before.

And that in turn had brought out a confidence and wildness I had never shown before and I was soon submitting to his every desire.

To each horrific, hideous, sick and twisted desire.

Chapter 4

Lucas

THE BUILDING WAS eerily quiet when I entered it at 6am. The cleaners were doing their usual coffee and gossip and I smirked when I entered the corridor and they all shot out of their chairs.

“Morning, Mr Hunt” they all muttered in unison. I gave them my customary glare and they each lowered their eyes and scurried on.

Slamming my office door shut behind me, I made my way across the room and mumbled a curse when I realised Sandra hadn’t started the coffee percolator ready for my morning caffeine hit.

“Sandra!” I shouted before it hit me that Sandra was currently fucking her toy-boy in the Gulf of Mexico.

“Bollocks” I moaned as I peered at the switches on the machine. Pressing one and hoping for the best, the bloody thing spat something at me, chugged out a groan and died its death.

“Holy Fuck, Sandra!”

I peered out of my office door and spotted a cleaner polishing a picture frame, “You!” I shouted at her. Her head swung towards me and the fright displayed in her eyes made my brain boil.

Christ, were all these women self-doubting, fucking quivering jobseekers? No wonder they never made it further than pushing a hoover and a mop.

“Yes, you” I said slowly as I crooked a finger at her and gave her my best commanding glare.

I saw her throat bob in terror as she made her way timidly towards me.

It seemed an age before she actually reached me and pulling out my wallet, I shoved a tenner in her hand, “Starbucks, double espresso, no sugar.”

Her creepy, over bushy eyebrows rose and her wide eyes widened even more.

I nodded slowly and took a deep breath. “I . . . need . . . you . . . to . . . go . . . and . . . get . . . me . . . coffee!” I told her, emphasising each syllable.

She bit her lip and nodded before she stumbled back down the corridor she had just vacuumed and disappeared into the elevator.

She needed to hurry before my temper got the better of me and I needed to inject the coffee straight into a vein instead of pour it down my eager throat.

Mumbling a curse, I started Sandra’s duties and orbited the area, switching on the equipment and logging into the system ready for the temp.

Christ only knew what time she would turn up. Sandra was always here for 5:45am, always ready and waiting for me but the new girl was nowhere to be seen.

The cleaner crept up to me and I rolled my eyes at her as her hand shook when she handed over the cardboard cup and my change.

“Keep the change. Looks like you could use it” I said to her as I immediately brought the cup to my lips and impatiently swallowed a hot mouthful.

I heard a gasp leave her mouth as her eyes brimmed with tears, before she turned on her heels and flung her skinny body into the ladies restroom.

What the hell had I said now?

I opened up my private e-mails as I clock watched and impatiently waited for the temp.

Where the hell was she? Common courtesy was not too much to ask for. Fair enough her contracted hours were 8:30 until 5:30 but she should fucking know I needed her here for 6. Sandra was always bloody here for 6!

The internal light lit up on my desk phone and I clenched my teeth as I answered. This was what I had a P.A for.

“What!”

“Oh, sorry to disturb you, Mr Hunt but your new P.A is in reception” Samantha, the shark from the main foyer reception said.

“And?” I answered with a bewildered shake of my head.

“Sorry, Mr Hunt, I’ll send her straight up” she said and ended the call.

Did I have to guide every single fucking person in the building?

I heard the elevator ding her arrival and I reached down to the cabinet to pull out her paperwork, “About fucking time!” I declared as I heard her open my office door.

“Sorry?”

My eyebrows rose before I turned towards her.

I would recognise that soft voice anywhere.

Holy fuck!

I stood slowly and turned towards her. The little gasp that left her lips had my dick twitching already. Her deep red hair framed her beautiful pale face and the bright red lipstick she wore on her plump lips did nothing to tame my raging hard on.

My eyes swept every inch of her delectable body. She seemed to have spray painted on the tight grey dress she wore, its snug fit displayed each and every delicious curve and my cock throbbed uncontrollably as I glimpsed the perfect skyscraper red heels hugging her petite feet.

My mind was suddenly filled with visions of her in just those shoes, bent over my desk,
her tight ass high in the air as I twisted my fingers around her sexy hair and thrust deep inside her.

“Oh . . .” she spluttered and shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

I cocked my head at her, a sly smirk on my lips “Well this is a turn up.”

She forced an uncomfortable smile and my eyes dropped to her hand as her thumb flicked rapidly against her index finger. A nervous habit?

“We don’t own poles here, Red.”

What the hell Lucas? What a shit thing to say to her!

She blinked and frowned at the same time.

“You’re late” I told her as I gestured for her to sit in the chair. She swallowed heavily; a look of confusion crossed her face before she sat her gorgeous backside opposite me and placed her hands nervously in her lap.

“What’s your name?” I asked her. If I looked at her paperwork it would tell me, but I wanted to hear her sultry voice again. She seemed to have become mute.

“L . . . Layla Summers” she mumbled and I nodded as I finally glanced at her details on the paperwork placed before me.

Age 26, 5ft 3,” single . . . that was the one I was looking for and I glanced back at her.

Her pale skin seemed even paler against the deepness of her scarlet lipstick and I imagined those bright red lips sliding down the length of my cock, the lipstick smearing across each of my hard ridges, as she took it all deep into the back of her throat.

Fuck, Lucas!

This was gonna be a problem. I never ever fucked my employees and I wasn’t about to start now, but shit, this was bad news and as though it was her fault I narrowed my eyes on her and barked out “I don’t fuck the employees, Red.”

What the hell is wrong with you Lucas, you arrogant arsehole?

Her huge eyes widened and then a slight tic twitched her right cheekbone. “And I don’t fuck pompous twats, Mr Hunt!” she snapped back.

Feisty! I liked that.

I gave her a smirk and tipped my head in acknowledgement “That’s good to know, Red.”

“My name is Miss Summers, Mr Hunt” she hissed through clenched teeth. She was gonna be fun to work with and I gave her a sly grin.

“Well then, Miss Summers, what’s your excuse for being late?”

Her perfectly trimmed blonde eyebrows pulled together and I smiled to myself when I realised she was a natural blonde. Golden pubic hair was a distinct turn on.

Fuck! There I go again!

“I don’t think I’m late, Mr Hunt. In fact I believe I’m early” she said quietly with puzzlement.

Scrunching up my nose I looked at her, “When you work for me Miss Summers, I expect you to be efficient and make sure you turn up before I actually do.”