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“Aye.”
“You sure? You’re right on the edge.”
“Aye. I’m alright.”
“Night then, Callum.”
“Night.”
I closed my eyes, trying to drift off. Couldn’t stop thinking, though. Of Sophie, of Explicit, of Raven and Masque and all the things I’d seen. Couldn’t stop thinking of the Stoneys, either, and Vicki back home. Sophie’s breathing deepened, long exhalations on my skin. I listened to her sleeping, wishing I could follow, but the minutes ticked by and still fucking nothing. I was careful not to wake her when I got out of bed, lifting her arm so softly that she didn’t feel a thing.
I went to the window, pulled back the drapes to look at the city outside, but it weren’t a window, it was a door. I turned the key quietly, stepping outside as naked as the day I was born. The balcony was high, looking right over the Thames. It was a great view, London lights twinkling on the skyline. Not lights like East Veil, proper lights. Could see the London Eye from here, loads of other shit too. I leaned over, breathing in the river air. Breeze on my face felt good. How the other half fucking live, eh?
Soft footsteps padded out to me. Sophie’s warm arms around my waist. “Can’t sleep?”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake ya.”
She kissed my shoulder, and it made me cringe, wanting her so fucking much it hurt. “Come back to bed.”
“Can’t sleep, Soph.”
“I’ll help you sleep.” She grabbed for my wrist, pulled me back inside, her hands all over me, over the tats on my chest. “Relax. It’s alright.”
“Why d’you want this?”
“Stop talking, Callum,” she whispered. “Stop questioning it.”
“Why d’you trust me here? I can’t even trust my fucking self.” I pulled away from her, hands in my hair, stomach in fucking knots as Casey whined away outside the door. “I fight, I steal, I hurt people. I eat from fucking bins, Soph, like a fucking sewer rat. I ain’t got no money, no fucking home, no nothing.”
“Stop it,” she said. “That isn’t what I see.”
“What d’you fucking see, then, eh? Cos I don’t fucking see it.”
She wouldn’t stay away, pressing up against me like I weren’t a fucking monster, like I couldn’t choke the breath from her for a cheap fucking thrill. “I see you. Not your past, not your problems, not your pissing credit status. Just you.”
“Why are you so fucking nice?” I relented, resting my chin on her head, breathing in her sweet fucking scent.
“Born perfect, I guess.” I could tell she was grinning, felt her lips against my chest. “Come to bed.”
“Told you, can’t sleep.”
“Who said anything about sleeping?”
***
This time it was her in charge. There was something desperate about her, primal. She pushed my head back into the pillows, straddling me like a rodeo horse, yanking her satin slip off and grinding against my crotch like a bitch on heat. I gritted my teeth, cock fucking hungry for her. She took my hands and pinned them over my head, her weight on her arms as she leaned forward to kiss me.
She found me ready. I slammed my tongue in her mouth, claiming it as mine.
I tried not to think about the men who’d already been in this place. The rich men, the smart men, the men with prospects. Even more, I tried not to think about the men who’d be here after me. The man who’d make her his, for real.
Tonight, at least, Sophie Harding was fucking mine.
“Fuck me,” she hissed. “Take me. Hurt me. Use me.”
“No,” I growled. “Youfuckme.”
She rubbed her perfect little tits in my face, and I sucked on her so hard, coaxing her nipples until she groaned. I could feel her excitement, the clamminess of her sweet cunt against my cock. I twitched under her, wanting nothing more than to bury deep in her juicy snatch.
