FORTY-FIVE
Gigi
“I fucking hate how all those men have eyes on you when I touch you.” Harry speeds up his thrusts with killer determination. “You’re.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Mine.” Thrust.
“Harry!” I cry out.
His fingers dig into my hips as he fucks me against the vanity table, causing the perfumes and makeup brushes to scatter to the floor. He fists my wig, forcing me to buck my chin. Our eyes clash in a heated gaze through the mirror. His hips slap against my ass, and my whole body trembles as I feel him nearing release.
We’ve officially found a new way for Harry to unleash his pent-up emotions, which is a success if it means he isn’t murdering people. This is our new normal now. Pixies’ attendance has reached an all-time high, and we end the show each night with a standing ovation, aching legs, and bodies burning with lust. The few nights a week that we perform, Harry rewards me with animalistic sex.
When the crowd’s cheers start to die, we’ve already exited into the backstage dressing room and he’s pinned me to the sofa, where he brings me to mind-numbing release.
Tonight, however, we couldn’t quite reach the settee, so he has my front bowed over the table.
Harry swats my ass with his palm, ringing the area with heat. I throw my head back as he thrusts into me unforgivingly, and my thighs tremble, chasing orgasm. Feeling my body tense, Harry covers my mouth with his large hand. “Scream as loud as you want, baby. No one can hear how good I fuck your pretty cunt.”
I fucking break apart.
My body constricts. My limbs cease. And my orgasm swarms my body to the point I see nothing but black. Black vision, with a kaleidoscope of colours bursting in front of my crossed eyes. I cry out into Harry’s hand, my nails piercing skin. He groans the most delicious sound in my ear and chases up his own orgasm. There are barely a few seconds before his hips shudder and he’s spilling his release inside of me.
My body is slick with heat, and I’m thankful I’m still wearing this itchy blonde wig, saving my long hair from sticking to my chest and shoulders, which are drowned with sweat. My breath hitches as Harry pulls out of me, and I feel his release running down the insides of my thighs. He catches it on his finger and shoves the few droplets back into my entrance.
Normally I’d complain about his breeding kink, but as he places soft kisses on my spine I’m practically putty in his hands.
He mumbles gently against my lower back, “I will never get enough of you.”
I hum in satisfaction as he kisses further down, pressing his lips to the sore flesh of my ass.
Struck for breath, I say, “I have places to be.”
The Boss asked me to meet with him after today’s show to discuss upcoming business, and with the sneaking around Harry and I have been doing, I’ve been trying to appease Richard wherever possible. But with each kiss I can feel myself screwing all morals, consequences be damned.
I’m forgetting all the reasons I never wanted this … until the image of Leroy’s limp body on the ground assaults my mind, bringing me back to my senses .
“Stop, or I’ll never leave.” I shimmy out of Harry’s grasp, pulling down my dress to conceal my naked skin.
As I reach the door and prepare to leave, he catches the back of my neck and turns me back to him, placing a heavy kiss on my mouth. “You’re fucking beautiful.”
I hum in response, instinctively chasing the sight of his mouth.
He smirks. “I thought you were leaving.”
“Right.” I nod, kissing him a final time. “I’ll see you later.”
I push the door open a fraction, dashing out to run down the hallway when the coast is clear. I quicken my steps to get there sooner, running my hands down the front of my dress and repositioning my wig to ensure I look composed. But as I pass a few smiling faces, nerves creep up my spine. It’s as if they’re whispering to me.
I know what you did.
She’s going to get herself killed.
They’re fucking behind closed doors.
She’s a traitor.
I force the voices away – the ones reminding me what I’m doing is wrong. Stepping through the secret passageway that opens beside the concealed booth in the corner of Pixies, I plaster on my fakest smile.
As I sneak past the thick curtain a deep voice calls my name.
“Gigi!”
I turn, locking eyes with Hudson Anderson.
His arm is lounging against the top of the sofa, one hand free and the other clasping a glass filled with amber liquid. He smiles, his eyes dropping over my outfit, yet they lack the suggestiveness a man’s gaze would normally have.
“Hudson.” I smile, turning around in search of the Boss. “I’d love to catch up, but I’m meeting with someone.”
“I’m sure Richard won’t mind you sitting with me.” He draws my attention back to him. He moves further up the seat, leaving room for me. “Come sit.”
Hudson is innocent and far from the other creepy businessmen in this establishment. It’d be no problem to sit with him.
I smile hesitantly, scanning the area one final time before taking the seat beside him. His arm is resting above my shoulder, just inches from touching me.
“I barely recognised you,” he says, gesturing to the short blonde locks.
“It feels like my alter ego,” I say, and then I ask, “Have you been enjoying the show?”
He purses his lips after swallowing his bitter drink. “I don’t watch the girls’ performances.”
“Of course,” I apologise. “I almost forgot.”
I’ve heard the rumours he isn’t here to watch the women onstage but to undertake business. As I’m mentally reciting the other useful information I’ve heard about Hudson, movement from across the floor catches my attention, drawing me to the source like a magnet. The door opens, and Harry walks out, appearing the picture of composure with his freshly styled hair and his belt back in place. Andy greets him, hitting his chest in triumph, but as if we’re drawn to one another, his eyes find mine.
Eyes that I know are green and beautiful.
“Gigi?”
I turn to Hudson, lost in thought. “Hmm?”
“Did you hear what I said?”
I shake my head.
“It seems you know a lot about me and I don’t know very much about you. Entertain me. Tell me your life story.” He gestures to the men at his side engaged in a heated discussion. “Save me from the sorrows of business.”
“You want to know more about me?” I reiterate, and he nods. “Why?”
He smiles. “Because you’re different. You don’t fit in somewhere like this. ”
My back snaps straight at his words. I swallow hard and square my shoulders on instinct as if I have something to prove.
This is my home. The Circle is my life .
“Then you clearly don’t know anything about me, Mr Anderson,” I say, my voice stern.
“Well, then let me get to know you.”
“I—”
“Gigi, there you are!” the Boss says, adjusting his shirt and making sure his jacket is free of lint. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Sorry, Rich, that would be my fault,” Hudson says. “It seems Gigi’s time is valuable, and I was hoping to steal a few precious seconds.”
“By all means.” There’s a long, stretched-out pause before the Boss suggests, “In fact, why don’t I book dinner for the three of us tomorrow night?”
I whip my head towards him. “No.”
He frowns, and my stomach tightens with nerves at the sudden rejection.
What am I supposed to tell him?
That I’m seeing someone?
The very someone that could lead to a bullet in the brain?
Struggling with a reasonable explanation, I force a swallow and say, “What I meant was … I’m too tied up with the upcoming heist. I don’t have time to entertain plans outside of work at the moment, but thank you for the offer.”
The Boss’s suspicious gaze is quickly overtaken by pride. “You’ve got to appreciate a woman who’s married to her work, Anderson.”
When I turn to Hudson, his eyes are focused on my face, and his head tilts as if he’s trying to read me. I force my guard up, praying he can’t see the mess that lies underneath.
The Boss’s voice pulls me back. “I actually have a job for you and Harry coming up in a few days.”
I fight the smile threatening to break at the prospect of the two of us spending time together. “Anything you need,” I tell him. “We also need to discuss further details for Gold House.”
He grins – the dominant kind that exudes pride.
When I’m not in my Harry-filled haze, I’ve been offering my expertise to help flush a heist to its full potential, but mixing the two will always be a struggle … so when I notice Richard beckoning Harry over from the far corner of the club, my stomach drops. He seems hesitant at first, but he obliges and makes his way past the tables before finally reaching our side.
“Boss,” Harry says, nodding at him. “Hudson.” He reaches over me, shaking his hand, but I can tell from the tic in his jaw that the interaction is painful. “Gigi,” he says, taking my palm in his. He brings my knuckles to his lips, kissing the skin and acting like a true gentleman despite having fucked me to orgasm just an hour ago. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Harry drops my hand, pushing it into his trouser pocket.
“There’s a heist I need you and Gigi to attend in the next few days,” the Boss says. “I thought we could discuss the details over dinner tomorrow night.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll book a table in Mayfair for three, shall I?”
Hudson’s hand flexes right above my shoulder, and Harry catches the movement.
The Boss says, “Four, if you wouldn’t mind, Harry. I asked Hudson first.”
Harry nods slowly, appearing completely unfazed, but I can tell by the strum of the pulse in his neck that he’s livid at the idea.
“Of course.” He smiles, but the emotion is disingenuous. “Four it is.”
This dinner may be the hardest interaction of my entire life.
Never would I have thought mine and Harry’s secret affair would be put under scrutiny as quickly as this. As I step out of the car and head towards the front entrance of Lolitas, just a few doors down from the exquisite Annabel's , my palms start to sweat. I blame it on the summer heat. Thankfully, my Glock is hidden underneath my Miu Miu slip-dress since it’d probably terrify diners at the social club. It’s a breath of fresh air, but still not as easily accessible as I’d like.
Hudson offers me his arm, and I link it with mine as we enter the establishment.
I was initially perplexed when he offered to escort me here this evening, since I’m certain he hasn’t been seen with a woman in years. Despite my reasons for saying no, it would’ve been incredibly suspicious if I’d denied the offer.
Hudson is nice.
Innocent.
Yet I doubt Harry will see it that way.
Entering, Hudson takes off my jacket and hands it to the waitress, while another leads us to our table. A pianist sits in the corner of the room, strumming the most beautiful tune with his keys. An artificial blossom tree grows from the centre of the room, complementing the pink-and-gold decor. Circular tables are dotted around the area with matching seats, and I fight a blush at the elite members and celebrities taking up the space.
On approach to our table, Richard and Harry stop mid-conversation and rise to their feet. The Boss greets me by kissing my cheek, and I return the gesture before turning to Harry. His gaze is incredibly captivating, and I fight the urge to kiss his irresistible mouth.
“Christ, you look fucking incredible,” he whispers in my ear.
I swear, the tension of being so close yet so far from him almost kills me.
We embrace, and I hug him a little tighter, inhaling the familiar scent of his aftershave before I’m forced to pull away. Despite the interaction only being brief, I clutch onto it like a lifeline.
Hudson pulls back my seat, and from the way Harry’s muscles tense, he’s triggered before the dinner has even started. As I sit, the white linen tablecloth covering my lap, my phone vibrates. Awareness flickers at my spine as I retrieve my phone and read the text.
HARRY: Don’t leave here with Hudson.
I turn to the culprit, but his head is down, subtly staring at his phone screen. I conceal my phone with the cloth, typing a response.
ME: I don’t have a choice.
HARRY: I’m giving you one.
HARRY: If you leave with him, I’ll kill him.
ME: Stop being a child.
HARRY: You don’t believe me?
HARRY: I’ll show you how serious I am, princess.
ME: You are NOT killing Hudson Anderson.
But he doesn’t respond.
My eyes lift from my phone, meeting Harry’s. Unspoken words pass between us. This man will not live to see tomorrow unless I co-operate.
I reach out and take a sip of my wine to calm my nerves. The Boss is thanking a waitress as she fills his glass, and Hudson follows suit. Meanwhile I feel Harry spreading his long legs underneath the table, his knee brushing mine.
“So, Hudson, how’s business?” Harry asks, turning his body towards him. “Whenever I see you, you always seem engaged with work. I appreciate a man who knows what he wants.”
The interaction seems fairly innocent … until Harry reaches out and places his hand on the inside of my thigh. My entire body stiffens, and I choke on a mouthful of wine.
“Gigi, are you all right?” the Boss asks.
Harry’s palm grips me tighter .
“I’m fine.” I laugh and grab the napkin, dabbing at my chin. “Just went down the wrong hole is all.”
Hudson pauses, eyes scanning over me, and I silently plead for him to look away. When he does, he lounges back and says, “Same old, same old. You know how it is … Rich says you and Gigi are quite the entertainment at Pixies. How have you been finding it?”
Harry’s hands claw up my leg slowly until he pauses at the feel of my Glock. The very weapon he engraved his initials into. I see the flicker of a smirk before he continues his trail. Despite me gripping his wrist, he refuses to stop.
“It was definitely a surprise, but we work well together …” Harry turns to me right at the moment his touch reaches the crease of my thigh. His fingers press into my pussy, melding the fabric to my skin. “Don’t we, Gigi?”
“Mm-hmm,” I say, disguising the shakiness of my breath by taking another sip of wine. And another. And another. My cheeks are hot with blush, but I blame it on my empty glass, saying, “Wine just goes straight through me.”
“I’ll order you another glass,” Hudson says, turning and calling over another waiter.
Harry dips his fingers in further, and my thighs squeeze unforgivingly around his hand.
He’s staking his claim.
My fingers claw at the top of his palm. I won’t leave with him, I’m mentally shouting.
He pauses his sick torture, and I quickly regain my composure.
“Thank you,” I tell the waitress as she refills my glass.
The Boss leans forwards, resting his forearms on the table as he says, “I have a mission for you both tomorrow. Some loose ends I need tying up in Chelsea.”
That’s code for “assassination”.
“Consider it done,” I tell him. “How many ends?”
He smirks. “Only two. ”
Easy work.
I smile.
Hudson picks up on the gesture. Resting his arm over the back of my chair, he asks, “And to think I was under the impression you didn’t fit in. You really like the dark side of the business?”
“Very much.”
My stomach plummets as I feel something cool and hard in texture pressing between my thighs, replacing Harry’s hand. I surge forwards and chug down several mouthfuls of wine as I notice the familiarity of his dagger rubbing against me.
The longer Hudson’s arm lingers, the rougher the touch becomes. A cough whips through me, the wine burning my throat. Hudson rubs my back, concerned, and I almost lash out on the spot at what that could entail.
“I’m fine. Really.”
He pushes my hair over my shoulder, palming my neck. “It’s fine. Let me—”
“NO!”
The table turns silent.
I exhale a shaky breath. “I have an ick about being touched. Thank you though.”
Despite his hesitation, Hudson leans away, and as he does, Harry loses the pressure on his dagger. My chest finally loosens with a heavy exhale as he slips the weapon back up his sleeve. I turn to him in my seat, and he wets his lips, refusing to meet my gaze.
We spend the next few hours discussing work with code words, talking business about Gold House, and relaying the final details for tomorrow. More threats have come to light with the Boss’s business, and we need to execute the threat before it becomes an issue. It truly feels like the only time I get to spend with Harry is during work, but I’ll take the opportunity wherever possible.
Once Hudson has paid the bill, he shrugs on his jacket, turns to me, and says, “I’ll drive you home.”
Harry is chatting with the Boss, but I can tell from the way his ears twitch that he’s waiting to hear my response.
I smile politely. “Thank you, but I’m not feeling too great. It was probably all the wine. I’m going to pop to the pharmacy and then head home.”
“Oh,” Hudson says, surprised. “I can wait with you until you’ve got what you need.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to risk throwing up in your car. Another time though. I appreciate it.”
He takes the rejection like a gent and says nothing else.
Harry is the first to leave, saying goodbye to us all individually. He kisses my cheek, leaning down to whisper in my ear, “Leave in five minutes. I’ll be waiting.”
A smile threatens to surface at the idea of finally being alone with him.
I stare at the clock on the wall, eagerly counting down the minutes. Then, as soon as time’s up, I bid my farewells and rush to the entrance to retrieve my jacket.
Before I have a chance to fully step outside into the summer evening breeze, I’m pulled around the corner. I barely have time to respond as I’m ushered against the wall beside the building.
Harry.
I whack him in the chest.
He chuckles. “What was that for?”
“You know what!”
He smirks, humming as he starts to kiss down my jaw. “Christ, I hoped he’d have his hands on you longer just so I could fuck you with that dagger.”
My throat catches, and I run my fingers through the back of his hair. The feeling of his lips is pure bliss, but the risk teeters on the borderline of outweighing any momentary reward .
“Someone could see,” I say, my breath shaky.
“I’d slit the throat of anyone who does.”
The words hit me straight in the abdomen, erupting against the area with tingles and heat.
“I’ll never get enough of you,” I moan as he starts to wrap his lips around the sweet spot on my throat.
“Good, because I’m here to stay, baby.”