Page 90 of Buy Me, Sir

He shakes his head. “No need for Delaney’s. I think we’ve well and truly crossed professional boundaries, don’t you?”

I know this is a triumph. Waking up in his bed with him was the most amazing feeling.

“I’ll come back here, then? At eight?” I’m so happy I could cry.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

I nod. Thank him again for the money and the breakfast. Thank him for everything.

I hug Brutus goodbye, and kiss Alexander right on the mouth in the doorway without holding back.

There’s nothing left to hold back.AlexanderI wire the rest of Amy’s money to Claude’s offshore account and let him know about my impromptu evening by email.

I tell him I’ll no longer be needing Delaney’s while I’m at it.

His reply comes through instantly.

No venue?

No venue, I confirm. I’ll take it from here, I confirm.

You exchanged personal information?

I don’t bother replying to that one. It’s none of the cunt’s fucking business what I’ve exchanged with her.

Having the girl in my home was the final straw for me. The final scrap of my restraint has shrivelled and died. For better or fucking worse I’m all in with this insanity.

I browse upcoming music events after I’ve walked Brutus, but there’s nothing that takes my interest.

I haven’t felt alive in so long. This surge of life is addictive. It makes me believe anything is possible. Anything.

That’s why I fire an email off to the Kings and Castles management team. That’s why I ask them why their current gig listings are empty on their website.

It takes a few hours to get a response, but when it arrives it’s very forthcoming.

That’s what an email signature like mine gets you. That’s what being a lawyer gets you full stop in fact, even if your email has nothing to do with the fucking law whatsoever.

They tell me the band are recording a new album. They tell me there will be no upcoming gigs for at least six months.

I call the mobile number listed, and a shy woman answers.

“It’s Alexander Henley,” I tell her. “I just emailed.”

“Yes,” she says. “I’m sorry about the schedule, but if you check back in six months…”

“I’ve no interest in checking back in six months,” I say, and I have my calendar open in front of me. “I want them to perform next week.”

“But that’s… impossible…”

“Five hundred grand,” I tell her, and her gasp of breath tells her I’ve gone in way too high, but I don’t fucking care.

“Five hundred thousand? To play next week?!” I hear the frantic tapping of keys and imagine her looking me up from my email details.

“I’ll transfer the funds on confirmation.”

“I’d need to make some calls…”

“I’ll be waiting,” I tell her.

She calls me back in fifteen, and by then I’ve already confirmed a venue. An intimate little gig in Charing Cross road. The venue also cost me a pretty penny, but I don’t care about that either.

I’m used to Brenda organising my entire life for me, but not this time. I’m glad I’m handling this one for myself. The thrill is exhilarating.

I’m surprised I haven’t done this before, but Claire hated this band. She hated pretty much everything I loved.

“I’ve pulled some strings,” the woman on the phone tells me.

Her words make me smile.

I give her the venue details and she writes them down. I ask her for their bank details and she reads them out twice.

I ask for an official invoice which she assures will arrive in my inbox in less than five minutes.

It takes four exactly.

I wire the funds with a smile on my face, and it takes all of my reserve not to head right on over to Amy’s house to spill the crazy fucking news.

But I don’t.

The surprise will be the sweetest.MelissaMy heart feels full to bursting as I lift Joe into the baby swing. His sweet laughter tickles me, his little bobble hat swaying in the breeze.

Dean has a quiet smile on his face as he watches us, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets against the chill.

I try not to stare at him, but I can’t help it. I try not to wonder what will happen if he agrees to my crazy scheme, but I can’t help myself.

I try not to imagine him taking Alexander’s beautiful cock in his ass. The idea makes me lurch like a rollercoaster.

I don’t know whether I can ask him. I don’t know whether doing something like that would be too weird to ever come back from.

But he wants Alexander. I know he does. I know he thinks about it.

I know he’d be the perfect set-up. I know he’d enjoy it like I enjoy it. I know he’d know what to expect and not go screaming for the hills as soon as that grip landed firm around his throat.

“You’re quiet,” he says as we head away from the park.

“Am I?”

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