Four
Gabe
After walking into my kitchen and seeing Leonie’s lace-encased backside, I treated myself to another shower; long and cold to ease the torment of sexual frustration. The underwear she had been wearing had hugged the smooth pale cheeks of her arse and I’d had a vision of peeling those knickers down her perfectly toned legs.
Whilst sorting myself out under that chilling, unforgiving spray, I realised I hadn’t had sex for a couple of weeks, I’d been working too hard and the cracks were starting to show. Our new roommate had reduced me to the actions of a horny teenager, which so wasn’t me and I knew I had to release some tension.
Leonie had to have one of the prettiest bottoms I had ever seen. And fuck me, she was gutsy; standing before me in that short tee with her nipples pushing against the fabric. Did the girl not understand how the male mind worked? She had attempted to look unaffected by my bared chest but had done a pretty shitty job of that. I could see she was impressed, the light in her eyes hinting at her naked desire.
She made me want to fuck her like an animal. And it was now glaringly obvious that I needed some female company so I messaged Natalie, a fuck buddy of mine (and Max’s). I arranged to meet her that night for drinks and then, who knew? She was a clerk at the courthouse and was content with a no-strings relationship; there were no lies or false promises between us; we fucked and that was it. I needed to bury all thoughts about our new house guest from my mind otherwise, it just wasn’t going to work. And kicking her out after twenty-four hours would be a total dick move. Believe it or not, I wasn’t that much of a bastard.
Asher had risen from the dead and gone to college around an hour after Leonie had left and so I had the apartment to myself. As I set my stuff out on the dining room table, I noticed she had cleared up the crap me and the boys had left. I felt a twinge of remorse, I didn’t really want her to think she had to clean up after us.
For my own sanity, I threw myself into an intense session of cramming; a method of revision which had always worked for me in the past. I could hear the clock in the room ticking away the minutes and I genuinely started to worry. To say I was already in need of a break, I hadn’t done nearly enough work. Determination pumped through my veins; failure was not an option for me.
I needed to blow off some steam. The refurbishment of the gym in the basement of the building had recently been completed. Fuck it. Slamming the lid of my laptop closed, I pushed to my feet and stretched my arms over my head; tension was knotting my spine and I knew I needed to get physical.
After changing into shorts, I used my lunch hour to energise and wake myself the hell up on the treadmill, I then lifted weights. Not the cleverest idea without a spotter, but I didn’t have the time to wait for Max to answer his fricking phone.
When I got back upstairs, I felt more motivated and threw myself back into my revision. My positivity was soon shat on when I noticed I had nine missed calls from my old man. His persistence annoyed me, if I didn’t answer on the third call, I’m not there or I’m busy; deal with it.
I dropped my phone onto the table without calling him back. I couldn’t be dealing with his attempts to manipulate me into working for him. Not right then, I had bigger fish to fry.
Whilst I was halfway through attempting to memorise another criminal case study, the intercom went to say I had a visitor. Great. If it was Max, he was a little too late; unreliable motherfucker.
As I padded barefoot over to the screen, my guts felt like lead in my stomach as I saw who had come calling. Garrett Knight, aka dear old dad. He was standing on the pavement outside my building like a massive headache; two members of his security detail shadowing him. My spirits sank, the chances of getting anything else done had just nosedived. It appeared that further insight into the case of R v Dudley and Stephens (1884) and the defendant”s decision to kill and eat Richard Parker would have to wait. Yep, I was studying criminal law and at times, you dealt with some fucked up stuff.
I buzzed him up. God knew why he’d pressed the intercom, considering he knew all the codes to access the building. I watched the screen as he opened the door into the lobby; Frank and Bex, his two minders remained outside looking exactly like what they were; the muscle. They couldn’t blend in if they tried.
I dashed a hand across my jaw as I waited for the lift to arrive on my floor; bracing myself for conflict. The exams I had looming over my head were stressing me the hell out and a stressed Gabe, wasn’t a productive Gabe.
What can I say? I wasn’t one of those guys that were in that stage of their lives where they needed to find themselves. I knew exactly who I was, warts and all.
I was argumentative and aggressive with a strong preference for thinking over feeling. Those who thought they knew me, probably saw me as a narcissist, but I called that self-preservation and putting myself out there. If you didn’t stick your head above the parapet, you didn’t get noticed, fact.
I could think logically and this led to me accepting that I was usually the smartest person in the room. I was also a good judge of character and under normal circumstances had an excellent memory; hence my ambition to be the best lawyer I could be. Head and shoulders above my old man anyway.
The lift pinged, the doors sliding open and I braced myself to see my father in all his menacing glory, but that wasn’t what I was faced with. He strode out of the lift with the usual confidence but he had lost weight and he was ashen-faced. No doubt a downside to working with the fucking mafia.
His expression was unreadable; a usual occurrence, considering he held his cards close to his chest. I wondered if he was ill and why his cheeks looked so sunken. And that was all I would do about it, wonder. You didn’t ask Garrett Knight if he was OK as he would never admit to any type of weakness. That included the common cold; whilst most of us would sneeze and splutter, Garrett would hold that fucker in until his eyes watered.
“This is a surprise. I thought Soho made you nauseous,” I drawled, leaning back against the kitchen counter with folded arms.
Garrett”s shrewd eyes ran over my stance. He knew I wasn’t happy to see him.
“I didn’t come here to fight with you Gabriel,” he said, his voice traced with a hint of amusement. That worried me as Garrett didn’t usually find things funny and seeing him smile was rare. To put it bluntly, a sense of humour and my father didn’t orbit the same space.
“That’s weird,” I replied with a twist to my lips. My father’s brow scrunched.
“What is?”
“You appear to be in a good mood.”
“Yes, well don’t get too used to it,” Garrett sniped as he strolled past me as if he owned the place, which of course, he did.
I watched with narrowed eyes as my father plucked the bottle of whisky that I had been drinking last night off the kitchen counter. He was a tall man and imposing even though his dark hair was now peppered with grey.
After foraging in one of the wall units, he turned to face me clutching two glasses in one hand, and the bottle of scotch in the other. He then walked over to the counter I had been leaning on and placed the glasses there.
Remaining silent, I waited until he had poured two measures and then he pushed one at me with his knuckles. It slid across the space and I curled my fingers around it. You didn’t refuse to drink with Garrett Knight, it just wasn’t done.
“So, how are your studies going?” he questioned, savouring the single malt.
I turned and placed one of my hands flat against the counter, we were now watching each other over the surface. Garrett was facing the living room behind me where my laptop and books were. He flicked a glance in the direction of my work. “Going well?”
“It would be better if I were actually studying, instead of drinking liquor at two in the afternoon. What are you doing here Garrett?”
The bite in my tone didn’t faze him. “I’m just checking in on you, I was in the area. Can’t a man pop by to see his son on a whim?”
What a pile of shit; Garrett Knight did nothing on a whim. I wrinkled my nose; you could almost smell the bullshit. “You clearly want something.”
Garrett finished his drink and poured another, mine remained in front of me untouched.
“I heard you have a girl living here.” Fuck me, news travelled fast.
Shrugging my shoulders, I quirked him a look. “And?”
“So, who is she?”
I lifted the glass to my lips and took a sip, the amber liquid burning the back of my throat.
“Nobody,” I replied flatly, hopefully without expression.
Garrett raised a thickset eyebrow, his face stating that he didn’t believe a thing I said.
“I heard she’s quite a looker.”
A burst of annoyance shot through me; who the fuck had been running their mouths off?
There was a beat of strained silence.
Of course, Marco. Asher had used my driver to transport Leonie and her stuff over.
“So what.” I was purposefully being evasive. Why Garrett suddenly gave a shit about us having a house guest was beyond me. “Does Mother know you’re making enquiries about pretty girls?” I bated.
The air suddenly sparked with tension. “I imagine having a little tart so close by is a sex-on-tap scenario. But you can’t afford to be getting distracted, Gabriel. You can think about keeping your cock warm once you have aced your exams, and joined the team.”
My smile probably resembled a sneer but I attempted to look like I found him funny. “Not that it’s any of your business, but she’s with Asher,” I lied; more for him than me or so I told myself.
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Is she really,” Garrett drawled, totally not buying it.
I placed the whisky glass on the counter and pushed it away with my fingers. “Yes. They’re friends, he says.”
“Just friends?” he queried; his tone meant business.
“I don’t involve myself in my brother’s sex life,” I deadpanned. “But I imagine they’re friends with benefits.” Why I decided to escalate the lie was beyond me; I appeared to be making myself jealous.
My father watched me in silence, weighing up my answer. My expression would give nothing away; I was still in training but had perfected my poker face years ago.
I could see him processing my words. After what felt like a decade, he replied.
“Well, I suppose that will make your mother happy,” Garrett said, half to himself as he screwed the lid back on the whiskey bottle.
“I’d like to meet this girl. I must admit we’d given up on your brother meeting anyone. I think your mother was starting to worry.” I didn’t ask about what, I knew exactly what they’d be shitting bricks about; the thought of one of their sons being queer; their words not mine.
The idea of Leonie meeting my father left a sick feeling in my stomach. Why did I suddenly feel so protective of her?
“So, the big day is close. How ready are you?” my father questioned, glancing back towards my stuff on the table. I toyed with my answer, I so wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.
I held it together like the man he expected me to be, but it was hard. The reality that there was a chance I could flunk my finals was like a huge weight bearing down on me. Shrugging my shoulders I replied nonchalantly, “Ready as I’ll ever be I suppose.”
“Well, you just see that you are. The Kinlan’s want you on the team,” Garrett said, his tone now firm; like a warning. Our eyes locked together in silent battle. If I didn’t come out on top, my father would bury me. I would be seen as a disappointment, which was skewed as fuck considering I hadn’t needed to take my Master’s to practice in the first place. It was something I had wanted to do. Fuck it, I might even go on to do my PhD and refrain from having to get my hands dirty for another year. Although Garrett would probably cum in his pants. He’d love the opportunity to brag to his associates that his son had earned the title of Doctor.
“I won’t be joining you, Garrett. I want nothing to do with the Kinlan’s,” I explained in a firm tone.
“And who will sit on my throne when I’m gone?” my father suddenly questioned.
“What do you mean?”
“I won’t live forever Gabriel.” Yeah right. He was such a stubborn fucker; he’d probably outlive me.
Feeling the need to piss him off I threw out, “Maybe I’m polishing my own throne?”
My words bounced off him and he showed no reaction whatsoever, if anything, he smiled, if you could call the weird twist to his lips that. “Give my regards to your brother. Did he like the Audi?”
Ah yes, the Audi. My father had bought Asher an Audi Q5 having missed his birthday for the last two years. I would have said it was a guilt purchase, but I knew it would have been my mother’s doing. I’d chewed Garrett out during one of her visits and explained how he treated Asher like he didn’t exist.
Garrett snapped my thoughts back. “Oh, and say hello to his girl for me.” Like that was going to happen.
“Will do,” I husked with an edge to my voice.
Garrett stared at me for a moment longer as if trying to weigh something up. “I’ll leave you to your studies.”
“Good. Thanks for stopping by,” I snarked.
My father’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll see myself out. Thanks for the drink,” he said, placing the bottle back with the others.
Short and sweet; the usual pattern for one of his visits. He only came by for an answer to his question about our new houseguest and once he had it, there was no need to linger. My father didn’t know the meaning of the word idle chit-chat.
Just before he left, he reminded me of my mother’s birthday which was in a few weeks, something about a family dinner, but I wasn’t listening. I had plans for the next six months as far as my dad was concerned and they didn’t involve me sweating my balls off at a table containing my dysfunctional family.
Once the lift doors had closed, I settled in front of my laptop and forced myself into work mode; I didn’t give a crap about Garrett’s veiled threat concerning my performance in my exams. I was doing it for me and my father could, once again, go fuck himself.
Leonie
After what felt like hours of limbering at the barre, my last class of the day went really well. I felt like I was starting to get noticed, having seen two of the main choreographers talking behind their hands while watching me dance.
As I got dressed in the changing rooms, Stella Richmond, a girl who started the same time as me, was full of compliments, saying how Sergey, one of the Directors, kept staring at me. It gave me a boost of confidence, but I knew I had to try harder. Competition was fierce.
Gathering my stuff, I declined the invitation from Stella and a couple of male dancers to join them for drinks. I needed to go by the cash point and establish how pathetic my bank balance was.
When I got to the closest ATM, the harsh truth that I was broke was like a kick in the stomach. Damn it. I needed to pay my first week’s rent upfront. That’s what I’d agreed with Gabriel and Asher.
As I stood beside the bank probably wearing the most pathetic expression ever, I saw one of my classmates across the road, walking into Aquarius. It was a club where a couple of girls in my class worked during the evenings.
Adrenalin pumped through me as I rechecked the bank receipt, taking in the fact that I only had three hundred and nine pounds in my account and I owed Gabriel two hundred for the first two weeks. Nervous tension gripped me. Would he kick me out if I didn’t pay straight away? Probably. The man wore a cloud of intolerance. My insides congealed at the thought of having to ask him for more time to pay.
A wave of defencelessness swirled through me. Shit. I needed a job and fast, either that or I’d have to call my foster parents and ask for money again. A thought which did not sit well with me. How on earth had I spent so much money with nothing to show for it? The trust that had been set up by my parents wasn’t accessible to me until my twenty-first birthday.
It was only six but the sun had started to set, making the street in London I was standing in feel eerie. I contemplated calling Asher, but for what reason? I would never ask him for money, ever.
Eyeing the club which was brightly lit across the street, my feet started moving of their own accord and before I knew it, I was standing in front of the double doors which led into the building. I could feel the bouncer by my side watching me.
“You OK, miss?” he questioned. “I’m going to need to see some ID,” he added. He was a huge round guy with a bald head, wearing a black puffer jacket and trousers.
“We don’t officially open until eight.” I could read him as clearly as a billboard, he thought I was underage.
I blinked my way from my stupor and looked up; hearing him catch his breath as those dark eyes roamed over my features.
Pursing my lips, I looked back and forth between him and the building like a metronome.
“Are you OK?” the bouncer repeated with creases beside his eyes.
Nodding my head, I pulled my gym bag further onto my shoulder and attempted to find some confidence from somewhere.
“I’m eighteen and a dance student and I need a job,” I informed him with a tilt of my chin. His features softened.
“Fuck me, eighteen. I have a daughter your age. Are you sure you want to work here?”
“I just saw my friend from school come in here.”
“To work?”
“Yes.”
“What’s her name?” he asked, rubbing his chin.
“Samantha Keller?”
He nodded his head. “Ah yes, Sexy Sam. That’s right. She does,” he replied with a grin before he added, “but are you sure this is the right place for you?”
My brow creased. “What do you mean?”
He shifted from foot to foot, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Well, I don’t mean to sound rude, but you don’t look like the type of girl who would work in a joint like this.”
I digested his words before pointing out. “And Samantha does?”
The bouncer grinned, his eyes glittering like his golden tooth. “Yep.”
OK then; he was one of those direct types and I knew he was right. Samantha was very much the black swan type, whereas I was white to the bone.
My silence must have made him think I was upset and he quickly added. “Look, why don’t you go inside and have a look around? Jamie is working the bar tonight and he’s the person to speak to. I know they need waiting staff, maybe you could serve drinks and stick to dancing in the day; if you get my meaning.”
I knew he was warning me about dancing there, but it wasn’t a strip club, was it? From what my other classmates had said, I’d assumed they performed burlesque numbers which wasn’t so bad.
Turning towards the doors, the bouncer leaned over me to push one open, saying into my ear, “Go on, just check it out. If you feel it isn’t the place for you. I’ll see you back out here in a bit. Some of the staff are a tad rough around the edges but they don’t bite. I’m Trevor by the way.”
I glanced back at him and smiled, “Leonie.” Trevor was one of the good guys, I could sense that much at least.
Squaring my shoulders, I then made my way into the club.
To cut a long story short, it was fine. The décor was flamboyant but no different to any other nightclub I had visited since I’d been in London.
The bar area surrounded the dance floor and a large stage was at the end of the ballroom. It was dimly lit with a red ambiance and it was fairly dead. Trevor had said it didn’t open for another hour and a half and so it would be.
Securing my bag, I made my way over to the bar where a man was standing in front of the till, loading it with money from the looks of things. I was surprised I didn’t salivate seeing all that cash.
As I approached, he looked up and his eyes clashed with mine. He was a good-looking guy, quite tall with a rangy build and he had short shaved blonde hair. I would have put him in his early twenties.
He smiled warmly as he closed the till and I stopped at the other side of the counter. Music was on but it was turned down and I could hear the hum from the machine which was being used by a cleaner to polish the dance floor. There were a couple of other staff sorting some tables out behind me.
“Can I help you?” the man asked. I noticed he had a tea towel draped around his neck; very much the cliched barman.
“Yes, I hope so. I’m looking for a job?”
As I spoke, his gaze ran over me; drinking in my entire body and I felt a flush creep into my cheeks at his blatant scrutiny.
“Really? Here?” Again, another man who thought I didn’t fit the bill of your typical nightclub dancer.
“Well, I was wondering if there was any bar work going?”
He took a step back. “Do you have any experience?” he asked.
Pursing my lips, I wondered how best to answer and as usual the truth won. “No, not really. But I’m a fast learner.”
“What’s your name?”
“Leonie Smith,” I replied with a hopeful look.
A silence stretched between us as he contemplated whether he wanted to risk it. Surely it would be quite straightforward, serving people drinks? How hard could working in a bar be?
After that, Jamie, as he’d introduced himself, took me into an office in the back and started to ply me with information about shift work and the general rules of employment. He explained that the dancers earned more tips than the bar staff but I politely rejected his offer of an audition.
And that was how I got my first official job, working as a waitress.
*****
That first week of living with the Knight brothers flew by. We were all very much like ships in the night and I didn’t bump into Gabriel that much. Asher said that his brother had decided to study at the library and would continue to do so for the rest of that week. Gabriel was due to sit his final exams. His absence made me feel a bit paranoid; did he also leave the room when I entered it or was that part of my imagination?
I found my feet in the apartment and Asher lent me his old TV which we put in my room. This allowed me to watch my programs as Gabriel watched sports whenever he was at the apartment. To be honest, I too tried to stay out of his way; that strange chemistry between us was a distraction that wasn’t good. It was all pretty messed up. I was puzzled at how attractive I found him when all he did was walk around like a bear with a sore head all the time. A grunt here and there in between balling me out for being in the bathroom too long and making the house smell girly. How long I’d be able to put up with his brooding bullshit was anyone’s guess.
In between school and work, Asher and I hung out in his room quite often and it was nice. He was a true friend.
When I’d first told him about the job, his jaw had dropped but I’d been quick to explain that I wasn’t there to dance. I served people drinks and that was that. This had seemed to appease him, although only slightly. I didn’t say anything to Gabriel about it and he never questioned me when I came back to the apartment late.
My job at Aquarius would have been much more straightforward if it hadn’t been for the clientele; I’d had to bat off a few overzealous customers. I was a waitress and worked the tables and if anyone stepped out of line, I was supposed to report it to Trevor.
On my first night, I had shadowed a waitress who had been there for years, Melanie. She was one of those girls that had unfortunately been coaxed into having her lips done and they did not look good. On some girls, it worked but Melanie’s lips must have already been significantly large as they now appeared far too big for her face. I didn’t comment of course, I was nice, and I didn’t do bitchy ever. Her uniform was also way too tight.
The waiting staff were all female apart from Jamie who ran the bar and was indeed the son of the owner. Our uniforms consisted of short hot pants and a cropped tee with the Aquarius logo on the front. It didn’t overly bother me. I was a dancer and used to wearing tight, revealing clothes. After seeing the first couple of dance numbers, I was relieved I hadn’t chosen that route. The girls wore underwear; suspenders and stockings, the lot. Melanie said that some of the girls offered private shows in the back, but I didn’t ask her to go into any more detail. What I didn’t know couldn’t hurt. In my opinion, it was a gentleman’s club and not a strip joint. The girls didn’t actually get naked, well not the parts I saw.
It was Friday night, and after a particularly long dance workshop and a short, yet gruelling shift at the club, I clocked off just before ten and then took the Tube to the other end of Soho. The first carriage I entered was empty and feeling nervous, I moved to one that had more people in it.
As the carriage rattled along the track my phone beeped to say I had a message. Retrieving it from the pocket of my jeans, I saw it was from Asher.
Where are you? I didn’t think you were working tonight.
I thumbed back. I had to. It was a last-minute thing but more money.
The Ash is typing wording appeared at the top of the screen. Get a shift on, you’re missing the party and I’m bored. He added an eye-rolling emoji.
He hadn’t said they were having a party and I thought Gabriel had vetoed them until after his finals.
That night I had covered one of the other girls” shifts as a favour as I had explained I couldn’t work the weekends. Once a month, my dance class ran shows on a Saturday, so I had to make sure these were always kept free just in case. I couldn’t allow my job as a waitress to affect my schooling and future career. When they had given me the dance scholarship, they had been extremely clear that the school came first. Nothing else mattered.
I’m on the Tube now.
Cool, get a move on. I’m making margaritas!
Smiling, I pushed my phone away. I wasn’t in the mood for a party but I didn’t want to appear rude. I wondered how big of a do it would be. I was so tired and my feet were literally burning the rubber from my shoes.
When I got to the apartment the lift doors slid open and said party revealed itself, my heart sank. Full-on was too weak a word to describe what was in front of me. Of course, having no neighbours meant the boys could turn their music up to a volume which was almost shaking the glass of the windows. I stepped out into the chaos.
I would say there were around forty-odd people; some dancing, others dotted on the sofas or in different corners of the room talking in clusters. Everyone was pretty much the same age and at different stages of inebriation.
I recognised some of Gabriel”s friends by the TV screen which had MTV music blaring out and several independent speakers were booming with the same song. The kitchen counter was loaded with all different types of spirits and bottles of wine and beer. There were glasses everywhere, on most surfaces, along with discarded red solo cups. It was like a scene from one of those house parties in American dramas you saw on Netflix.
As I moved across the space, intending to go straight to my room, I noticed Asher by the sink.
“Here she is,” a male voice whisper-shouted beside me. I turned, lowering my bag. It was one of Gabriel’s friends I had met that first night. I couldn’t remember his name and he must have realised that as he stuck his hand out and re-introduced himself.
“Luca, we met the other week, when we were watching the game,” he explained. I shook his hand which felt a bit formal, flicking my hair back to look up at him. I needed to be extra nice, bearing in mind who he was friends with.
“Of course, I remember.”
“So, how are you settling in?” Luca asked. He then went on to answer his own question, saying how Asher had explained that I was now part of the furniture after only two weeks.
After a brief conversation about how I was finding my feet, I excused myself, saying how I needed to drop my bag in my room and freshen up. To which Luca aka ‘the charmer’ said that I looked fresh enough.
When I got to my room, I felt a surge of relief that there wasn’t anyone in there. The thought of a stranger seeing my personal belongings and pictures of my parents made me uncomfortable.
After dumping my bag, I went into the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my hair, and applied a minimal amount of makeup. I added lip gloss, having seen some of the girls there, literally caked in it and I didn’t want to look underage.
Most guests were casually dressed in jeans so I changed the ones I had been wearing all day and pulled on some black skinny jeans and a tight black strappy tee. I checked myself in the mirrored wardrobe, I looked passable. I then pushed black ballet flats onto my feet and went out into the circus; telling myself to find Asher, share a few drinks and then barricade myself in my room. I felt nervous around so many strangers.
As I moved down the corridor, past a couple of people who smiled as I passed, I went into the kitchen area and found Asher. His face lit up and he pushed a red cup into my hand.
“About time, I was going to send Marco to find you,” he chuntered with a bright red face. “Sorry, I had the last cocktail. Hope you like the beer. I was worried you know.”
Due to all the bodies in the space, it was quite hot and my jeans felt like they were already sticking to my legs.
“Sorry, I should have messaged but it was very last minute. I only covered for a couple of hours.”
Leaning back against the counter beside a boy and girl who appeared to be stoned, my eyes roamed around the area.
It didn’t take long for me to find Gabriel. He was stretched out on one of the sofas with his posse flocked around him and a girl draped across his knee. I recognised all the boys bar one. A large mean-looking tattooed guy was sitting on the armrest and speaking in Gabriel’s left ear; a bottle of beer hugged against his large chest. He wore a black Nine Inch Nails tee which pulled taunt across his frame and faded jeans. He looked a bit like he belonged in prison.
My heart flipped in my chest as Gabriel turned his head slightly and his eyes locked with mine. His bulky buddy seemed to notice he’d lost his friend’s attention and he followed Gabriel’s eyeline with a frown. As that second pair of eyes latched onto mine, the stranger”s mouth widened into a large, satisfied smile.
Asher was speaking to me, something about a nude he was attempting to sculpt but I wasn’t really listening. I was drawn to that other side of the room; the place where he was rested; Gabriel Knight, the man of my dreams or nightmares? Who knew at that point? I also hated the fact that I felt offended by the girl on his lap. Was that his girlfriend?
The large man said something else to Gabriel, who clearly didn’t appreciate it as he scowled at his friend; barking something back. His face was like thunder, so much so that the girl on his lap turned and looked behind her, straight at me. She had long brown hair which fell like silk down her back and was pretty. The black dress she was wearing had rode up her thighs and I noticed one of Gabriel’s hands lay there massaging her skin. She gave me a once-over before turning back to face Gabriel, re-catching his attention. The killer smile he gave her was like a slap in the face for me. Was that jealousy?
Vacantly nodding along to his story and making brief eye contact with my friend, I thanked Asher for refilling my cup of beer. When I glanced back towards the trio, the stranger had gone. Gabriel’s attention was now solely on his date. I watched from beneath my lashes as he shifted her into a straddling position, his strong hand flipping her leg around. The fluid movement of her body blocked Gabriel’s face from sight and all I could see was the back of her head. His hands then slid slowly up her back into her hair, suggesting they were kissing. The way her back arched against his body was X-rated. I felt sick but couldn’t look away. No one around them paid any attention to the fact that they were clearly playing tongue tennis in front of them. My mouth dropped open as Gabriel suddenly gripped her hair in a fist and tilted her head to the side, his other hand dropped to palm her bum. A strange sensation danced through my body as I watched the way he kissed her, it was borderline aggressive. Their eyes were closed, thoroughly enjoying themselves and as I watched Gabriel’s tongue spear into her mouth I turned away. He ravished her lips, tugging her hair to deepen the kiss and I felt a forbidden heat between my legs. OMG, I was a voyeur. When did I become such a pervert?
“Introduce us, Ash,” a voice boomed from beside me. My cheeks heated, I so hoped I hadn’t been caught ogling the lovers. Putting on my game face, I twisted my head, as the large tattooed convict-type appeared beside us. He was extremely tall and intimidating but not in the same way as Gabriel. I found it interesting how he didn’t ask, he just commanded to be introduced. It appeared Gabriel associated himself with like-minded people.
Taking a shy sip from my cup, I glanced up as Asher made the introductions. “Leonie, this mountain is Max. Max, this is Leonie. My new roomie.”
Shuffling back against the kitchen counter, I smiled my reply and then before I had any time to comprehend what was happening, Max leaned down and brushed his mouth over mine. In shock, my lips parted and some of the beer sloshed out of my cup.
He lifted his head slowly, those dark eyes assessing. “I won’t apologise. That’s how I greet the pretty ones,” Max said, grinning down at me. His smile was infectious and I couldn’t help but laugh. I was so uptight, I needed to loosen up. Nobody else in the room was phased by people making out, so why should I be? Of course, it wasn’t what they were doing, it was who was doing it that had me rattled.
“And I must say, you taste as sweet as you look,” he added, his tongue darting to his lips.
“I see. You’re a fast mover?” I pointed out, looking up into his warm eyes. They were kind eyes irrespective of his thug-like appearance and I instantly liked him.
“Abso-fucking-lutely. When a girl looks like you, the only way to get in there—is fast. Either that or get in line, and I’m not a patient man.”
“I can see that.”
“The guys were all banging on about you the other night and I didn’t know whether to believe them. But now I can see what they were talking about and why he’s so unnerved.”
“Why who’s unnerved?” I questioned, flicking a glance at Ash who was now texting on his phone.
“Our prince,” Max stated with a curl to his lip.
“Your prince being?”
“The cocky motherfucker you’re living with.” My eyes shifted back to Ash who lowered his phone, rolled his eyes, and shook his head. “Don’t look at me.”
“Not that drippy fucker.”
“You know I’m standing right here and I can hear you,” Ash objected, his feathers well and truly ruffled.
“I know.”
“Great.” You could tell he wasn’t really offended, distracted I would say and with a tut of disgust he turned back to his phone. Mark maybe?
Max nudged Ash with his elbow but kept his eyes on me. “I’m only playing. He can take it.”
“So, this prince?” I prompted.
Max leaned in, lowering his head. “Put it this way, if you look behind me, I imagine his eyes are drilling holes into my back, just for talking to you. He clearly didn’t see the kiss, otherwise, he’d be over here and Lisa would now be sitting on the floor.”
I did as he suggested, knowing that he meant Gabriel. He was still in the same position with the girl draped over him. As I flicked a glance up his body, I could see his eyes shooting me daggers over her shoulder. My frown deepened as Gabriel’s hands now rested on the girl”s back, he was watching us and kissing her at the same time. His mouth continued to drink from her lips whilst his eyes remained open, his stormy gaze on me. Almost like he was rubbing my nose in it.
The girl”s back arched again as she ground herself against him and his tongue slid back into her mouth. I felt a sting of something unfamiliar and drew away, using Max’s body to shield me from that view. One I found oddly disturbing.
“Told you,” Max said, his arm brushing my shoulder as he placed his empty beer bottle on the counter at my back. I wanted to state that Gabriel looked like he was enjoying himself very much, but I refrained. I knew the kiss had been for my benefit; like he was making some type of statement.
“So, you think us talking would upset Gabriel?” I felt a twinge of remorse as I knew I shouldn’t be speaking about him to his friends but Max was the one who had dropped the bombshell.
“Something like that.” For goodness’s sake, were all these boys cryptic? How hard was it to get a straight answer out of one of them? Probably up there with winning the lottery.
Asher suddenly lifted his phone to his ear and excused himself, leaving me alone with the giant. Well, apart from that room full of people who were all wrapped up in their own stuff.
“So, I take it you and Ash aren’t bumping uglies then,” Max said with a raised eyebrow.
Shaking my head, I deposited my cup next to Max’s beer and wondered what to do with my hands.
When I twisted back, Max had moved to my side and I turned to face him, we both had one hip against the counter and were standing way too close to each other. In my opinion anyway, from the way he held his body, Max had no problem with the lack of space.
His large biceps flexed, drawing my eyes to that area and without thinking, I raised a hand and ran my fingertips over one of his tattoos. It was wording of some kind and I was suddenly intrigued.
“What does it mean?”
Max glanced down. “Audere est faucere?”
I smiled up at him, he was easy on the eye and my nervousness suddenly left me which was a surprise, considering the size of the beast.
“Yes.”
“It means, to dare is to do.”
Lowering my arm, I digested the saying, realising it was Latin.
“I see. So, you’re one of those guys who thrive on impulse?”
“Fuck yeah, this is the city baby. Competition is fierce, if you don’t have guts, this place will chew you up quickly,” Max said, his expression now hooded.
I thought about my struggles to get noticed as a dancer. “Tell me about it. What do the others mean?” I asked innocently.
Max’s expression turned hungry, his eyes roaming over me. Sexual aggression poured from him as he lowered his arms.
“How about I tell you in the morning?”
The come on was blatant, slap you in the face and I felt a fizz of heat. He was attractive at the end of the day and I wasn’t dead. Just sexually inexperienced. I could count the number of kisses I’d had on one hand. Not due to boys not trying it on of course. I’d been batting the attention of boys off since I turned thirteen.
“Does that line usually work?” I said, feeling amused.
“Fuck yeah,” he said again. His signature response it appeared.
We stared at each other for a moment longer before that hungry mask he was wearing lowered.
He shrugged. “We could just chill out in your room and talk? It would be worth it anyway, just to fuck with him,” Max said under his breath.
Again, I knew he was talking about Gabriel. “Why would that mess with him? We’ve only been living together for a couple of weeks. Why would he care who I talk to?”
Max’s voice then deepened and he spoke against the cuff of my ear as Asher came to stand by us again with a distant expression.
“Oh, he cares alright, he just doesn’t know it yet.”
Suddenly Ash reappeared by our sides, the corners of his mouth and his tongue were blue.
“What the fuck have you been drinking?” Max snorted with a grimace.
Unfazed, Ash shot him a huge smile. “Blue Curacao, it’s fucking delicious.”
“You look like you’ve gone down on a Smurf.” The big guy’s response forced both Ash and I to exchange a look. Surely Max didn’t know Asher’s secret. We then burst out laughing, but Max just shook his head in distaste.
“I’ll be seeing you around little Leonie. Asher, go wash you’re fucking mouth before your brother sees you.” He then straightened, rolled his shoulders, and walked away. The space his absence created allowed me a direct line of sight to the sofas where Gabriel had been. He wasn’t there.
“So, what did I miss?” Asher questioned.
“Nothing much but Max is right. You need to look in the mirror,” I giggled.
Rolling his eyes, Ash tramped off towards the bathroom and I leaned back against the counter and searched for Gabriel.
He was moving across the room, the crowd of partygoers easily parting for him. He had his arms around the brunette and he was walking her in the direction of the bedrooms.
As he got to where the corridor narrowed and disappeared, he spun her around so her back was flush with his chest and pulled her back against him. His arms snuggly under her breasts. I saw her laugh, excited by the rough movement as he lifted her off her feet and they swept into the corridor. Gabriel was taking her to his room to have sex. And it bothered me.
The next hour passed by in a blur. I was annoyed that the thought of Gabriel shagging whoever she was affected me so much. OK, so he was good-looking and I was instantly drawn to him but he wasn’t my boyfriend. I needed to get a grip.
Gabriel Knight could sleep with the entire room for all I cared.
At least, that’s what I attempted to convince myself of when I walked past his room later that night; the image of what they were doing in there, clawing through my mind.
I went to bed with the party going on into the early hours and told myself that Max was deluded. There was nothing between Gabriel and me and never would be.
Although I hadn’t even started anything with anyone since I’d arrived in London, I was more than done with the Gabriel Knights of this world.
My career as a dancer was all I cared about and nothing would ever be more important than that.