Cole waved a little awkwardly, since she had no idea what these people had to do with each other, or with Ellery. With the exception of Mikhail, they were all in their fifties at least. John, in his tweedy, elbow-patch-sporting jacket, looked like an academic. And Janet like the subject of that Jenny Joseph poem. Dick peered up from the latest George RR Martin. “Where has Ellery been? We thought she had forgotten us.” “Just been busy,” Ellery replied. “You’ve missed out,” Dick said. “Oh yeah? Highlights?” Flossie reclaimed her seat. “This German couple took Miskha’s spot. But we soon had them put to rights.” Ellery asked, “Musically?” “The Halle, I think. Gave us some smashing Mahler,” Flossie said.Ellery shrugged. “Das Lied?” They nodded. “Eh. Every time she hears that, she's like…hurry up and die already. Don’t hang there in D forever.” John was polishing his glasses on the edge of his sleev
What had started out as the worst queuing experience of her life gradually became one of the best for Cole. Not that, in all honesty, there was that much competition. The evening got a flood of last-minute warmth, like a guilty start from the sun just as it was slipping away. She lay with her head on Ellery’s lap and Ellery fed her the rest of the strawberries—at least the ones she could wrest from Unasked for Queue Lady. Cole couldn’t help but notice that lots of other people were drinking wine but Ellery had gone all ascetic on her and only brought water. Probably it was the right call—she wasn’t sure whether her capacity to appreciate classical music would be improved or diminished if she was wankered. And, besides, she was slightly floaty anyway—on the balmy evening air and the brush of heat across her skin and the strange liberation of having nothing to do but wait. They were briefly interrupted by the click-whir-flash of a camera. And Cole startled out of a not-quite-dayd
Cole was slightly dazed as she followed Ellery out of the Royal Albert Hall and into the lingering warmth of the night. They wandered silently between the pale white mansions and red-brick towers of Kensington, letting the memory of the music linger. The next time Cole paid attention to her surroundings, they were on the Old Brompton Road. This area was the closest Kensington had to a commercial district, though it still exuded a posh atmosphere with its upscale flats, boutique stores selling extravagant items nobody would reasonably desire, high-end restaurants, unnecessarily large Pret A Manger branches, and, somewhere in the midst of it all, the pub where Private Eye was founded. Ellery grabbed Cole’s hand and pulled her into a late-opening gelato parlor that was so small, she would have likely missed it if she had been alone. The sight of the long counter, displaying different flavors of ice cream fluffed up like perfect little clouds and as vibrant as bi
Bellerose’s mouth thinned into a mean little line that didn’t suit him.And Finesilver was still radiating an impenetrable field of trust me, trust me, I’m a nice person. “I believe she feels in some way connected to him.” “Because he follows her around taking candid photos of her?” “Because he has done so since she was fifteen years old. And”—he sighed gently—“on one occasion got her to hospital after an overdose.” Cole wanted nothing more than to wrap Ellery in a tight embrace, although she knew it would be an unwelcome gesture on Ellery’s part. “I suppose,” she muttered, shuffling her feet awkwardly, “he can’t be all bad, then.” Finesilver’s expression shifted slightly, his eyebrow raising in response. “He took photographs first.” Bellerose adjusted the screen, angling it more toward Finesilver and away from Cole. “Let’s focus on the matter at hand.” Finesilver returned his attention to the laptop. “These are the only circulating photographs
“Hello, Cole.” “Good evening, Mr. Crux.” “Did you…I mean. I sent you something. I trust it arrived.” Oh bless, he sounded, well, not nervous exactly. But eager and trying to cover it up. And Cole suddenly felt a whole lot better about the coat. “Yes. Thank you. It’s perfect.” “I’m glad you like it.” “Best thing in my entire wardrobe. I won’t wear anything else ever again.” “Anything else, you say? Now that I’d like to see.” Cole gave this weird bleaty little laugh because she hadn’t been properly prepared for flirting. But she rallied. Made what was probably an ill-advised attempt at sultry. “Come round, then. I’ll give you a private viewing.” “You know I’d love to. But I’m waiting for a call from Tokyo, and I prefer to handle such things from my office.” She sighed. “Soon, then?” “I’ll insist on it.” The growl in his voice sent happy little shivers racing down her spine. But it also made her miss
Her stockinged feet made no noise on the plush carpets as Cole approached the office. Her nerves were fluttery but holding steady. She felt reasonably impressed with herself as she pushed open Aiden’s door and entered. However, her confidence quickly faltered. Or rather, she fell. She didn’t even know what she tripped over—perhaps her own misplaced optimism—but one moment she was sliding into Aiden’s office, exuding sultriness in her sex coat, and the next she was yelping and ending up in a heap on the ground. “Cole?” If anything romantic had occurred—Aiden’s face lighting up with joy at the sight of her, for example—she was in no position to witness it. His tone sounded surprised rather than horrified, which gave her a glimmer of hope. “Are you all right?” She nodded, rubbing her nose against the carpet. “I meant to do this.” “You did?” “Absolutely. I was just, you know, sitting at home, thinking about you w
It turned out, that was straightforward. Cole wasn’t sure how successfully she would have been able to hold back if she had tried. He fucked her mercilessly, with a precision and power that left her an incoherent trembling mess on his desk, her whole body rocking with the thrusts she held herself open for. Being fucked that way, and helpless to do anything but take it and feel it, was insanely intense. Her hands were slippery, her legs ached, and her arse stung a little bit from his thrusts, but somehow, that just made everything even better. Best of all, though, she got to watch. She got to see him pushing into her, framed by the V of her legs, the tender skin of her thighs looking paler than usual in contrast to the dark nylon of the stockings. She got to watch her cock bouncing between them, hard and flushed and shiny with precome, her balls drawn up tight beneath. And she got to watch him. Gorgeously unraveled with his tie askew and his hair mussed
“Write what?” “Anything you like. How about Aiden + Aiden 4 Eva in a big heart?” That earned her an exasperated look. She prodded him with her foot. “Please? It doesn’t even have to be romantic.” “I’m not literary like you.” “You mean you’ve never stumbled across some words arranged into an order you quite liked? Ever?” “It’s not that.” He picked the pen back up and absently fiddled with it, twisting its lid round and round between his fingers. “I’m afraid I find it rather exposing.” “Aiden, I came to your office practically naked.” “Yes, but you chose to do that.” Oh fuck. He had a point. She was being super pushy—and one person’s risky titillation was another person’s excruciating nightmare. “I’m sorry. Ignore me. You don’t have to.” He leaned down—smooshing their too-hot bodies together in a way that was only okay because they’d just had the best sex ever—and kissed her. “No, I