Chapter 21 #2
Something about that sentiment makes my stomach flip. Being Holly is… safe. It’s got a level of persona to it, focused on whatever my clients want of me and playing to their filthy tune. Their desires guiding and stoking mine.
Being Ella, just me, with Vinnie Hampton is a whole other league. Like it was with Heath. Only with Heath I was with Josh. I was Holly to him first, before the walls came down, and I was safe there, at Josh’s side, even though I was fangirling so hard I could die.
This isn’t safe.
It’s wild.
Crazy.
A surge of adoration from my youth comes to life.
I wanted Vinnie so bad when I was younger, just like I wanted Heath. He’s the thing of legends, his songs scorching my soul.
Sinking into that teenage fangirl zone sends my body into a frenzy.
I tip my head and land my lips on his like I would have done when my obsession with his music was at its peak.
I moan against his mouth as his tongue pushes its way to mine, and I grab at him, hands on his chest, roving down to his leather trousers and the bulge in his crotch.
His abs are ripped. His hips thrust like they do on stage. The bulge in his pants is awesome.
I kiss him like I mean it, because I do. I want to taste him, want to fuck him, want to get pounded like a teenage dream.
He guides me backwards until I slam against the wall between two mirrors.
He puts the whisky bottle down on a side table, and lifts me up, my stilettos still on as I wrap my legs around his waist. My hands reach around his shoulders as I grind against him, desperate for his skin, touching him in pure disbelief as he keeps on kissing me.
Time stands still. It doesn’t exist here. I can barely stand it. I want to scream with excitement. Pure disbelief.
“You’re even more beautiful in the flesh than you were in the videos, which is saying something,” he says, lips puffy and smeared in my scarlet lipstick.
His own eyeliner is nothing but a smudge under his eyes in his trademark style.
It’s so familiar that I’m wide eyed as I run a thumb down his cheek. I know his face so well.
“Your eyes are incredible,” he tells me. “So blue against your hair.”
Thank you, Mum.
Vinnie’s eyes are a metallic shade of grey.
I’ve seen them up close on pictures. They have flecks of pale green, like a dusting of moss on stone.
It’s a similar contrast to my style, light eyes with such jet black hair.
His cheek bones are sharp in contrast to his full lips.
His chin is strong in contrast to the softness of his eyes. An anomaly that fits perfectly.
A rock legend.
He always belonged on the Billboard charts.
Vinnie lowers me to the ground slowly, grinning as his bulge nudges at my tummy, and then he takes my hand and pulls me back into the centre of the foyer with a let’s check you out, girl.
He twirls me in a spin, letting out a woah that makes my heart leap.
“Worth every fucking cent.”
“You haven’t even sampled the goods yet.”
“I’ve sampled enough to know I’m in for a damn good time.” He raises an eyebrow. “Want a drink, kinky fuck-doll?”
“I’d love one, please. What have you got on offer, rock god?”
He gestures to a door off to the left.
“Whatever you like. I have a selection that outclasses any liquor store, believe me.”
I do believe him. I have no doubt he’s stocked up and ready to party.
“Prosecco?” I ask him. “Do you have that?”
He walks ahead of me, shooting me a smirk over his shoulder.
“Fuck Prosecco. Don’t sell yourself short. Let’s go champagne.”
His dining room has another low hanging chandelier, settling the room alight. The dining suite is black marble, with another roaring lion as a centrepiece. The chairs are black brocade and the walls are a deep forest green.
“Voila,” he says when we reach the far end.
There’s a bar set up in the corner of the room, like a traditional London style pub. Spirits on racks, ready to pour shots. Fridges filled with bottles of beer, and cider, another full of fizz. And there’s a wine rack as tall as he is off to the side of them.
I check out his tight ass in his black leather pants as he reaches down into one of the fridges for a bottle. De Chante, of course. He grabs a bucket from under the bar and of course there’s a push-button ice dispenser and he soon has the bucket filled.
“I’ll share a toast with you,” he says, setting two glasses on the bar top before he pops the cork. His eyes are on me as he pours, his horny soul calling mine. I’m in awe of his tattoos as he raises his glass in the air, they look even better in the flesh than they do on pictures.
One arm has snakes, music bars and a lion on his shoulder. Skulls, chains and stars on the other.
“To the slutty goddess and her sterling career. So glad I found you, Ella.”
I reach over the bar to clink his glass. “I’m glad you found me, too.”
“You must have expected it, right? That kind of recognition is gonna have all the big names calling. I bet you were singing Connor’s praises, even though he’s a prize jackass.”
I shake my head, eyes wide. Even the idea is bizarre to me.
“No, for real. The thought didn’t even cross my mind.”
HIs eyebrows pit as he tips his rock god head to one side.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me. Everyone dreams of their big break.”
We are on different planets, him and me. The months of being holed up, terrified, flit through my mind. The shakes, and the tears, and the horror at the thought of being recognised. All the people online speculating, trying to track me down.
“Fuck me, you’re serious, aren’t you?” Vinnie says.
“Deadly.” I put my champagne down, my eyes locking on his.
“Are you crazy?”
“I felt it. I felt like the whole world was going mad.”
“Like Alice exploring the rabbit hole?”
“More like Dorothy, caught up in the tornado. It was horrific.”
His eyes are as shocked as mine, open wide.
“Jeez, what the fuck? We must come from very different sides of the world. Figuratively as well as literally.”
“Yeah, we must.”
“Tell me about it. What went down?”
I think about it for a moment. Sipping on my champagne, with all thoughts of a sex toy suitcase out of the window right now.
He wants Ella, not Holly, with Holly’s bravado and smirks and expertise, so he can have her. He can have me.
“Want to know the truth?” I ask him.
“Always.”
“I was absolutely crapping myself when Connor blurted who I was. Me and my boyfriend couldn’t get anywhere near our home for the paps camping outside.
We checked into an Airbnb and I was too scared to leave.
I curled up on the sofa, praying for it to end.
When people were looking for me, all I felt was doom. ”
“Why the doom?”
I shrug, thinking it through, because I never had any other angle on it. It was all so black and white.
“People recognising me. People knowing who I am. It just…”
“Are you ashamed of it?”
His eyes are so piercing, but so warm. Genuine.
“Ashamed of being a hooker, you mean?”
“No. Ashamed of being yourself. Because you are a hooker, yeah. But that’s your career. It’s only a part of you. So what if people found out about it? So what if people were talking about you? Who gives a shit?”
The thoughts churn in my guts, and I think of him.
All the rumours about him. So many people scathing over how much of a legend he is, and how fucked up he is, with his heavy rock and his sex thrusts on stage.
There was so much gossip about him when I was younger.
Stupid shit about how he’d fuck girls on the top of his tour bus while it was zooming along at seventy miles an hour, and how he once bent over a policewoman and fucked her in the ass while she was trying to arrest him. A load of bullshit, or I think so.
He raises his glass again.
“You could have given them the middle finger and stepped out proud, you know that, right? You could have laughed in the paps’ faces, blown them a kiss and said you charge at least seven figures a go.
I thought I’d gotten a bargain, actually.
” I love his wild laugh. “You could have said that Connor only fucked off in the first place because he couldn’t afford you.
Because his dick wasn’t big enough to keep you horny. ”
“I wouldn’t have lied about Connor like that.”
Vinnie looks at me like I’m one of his sculptures, his dirty boy eyes examining my face.
“Damn it, fuck-doll. You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you? I’d have fucked him over with everything I had if that motherfucker had me holed up in shit town with nowhere to go.”
“I knew he’d do it for himself. He’s fucking himself over every day.”
“He said he’d never have made it without you.”
My jaw grits instinctively, all the time I spent at Connor’s side, cheering him on from the wings gig after gig coming back to haunt me.
“He wouldn’t have, no. But it wasn’t about his shit viral hit, it was about all the work that went on before it.”
“Exactly.” Vinnie points a finger at me. His nails are black, not scarlet like mine. “So you had every right to cash in on it. You could be a way brighter star than him. He’s screwing himself over, one bullshit move at a time, but you,” he pauses. “Your skills ain’t going nowhere.”
I look at the bar top, running my scarlet nailed fingers across the wood as I try to digest his words.
I never wanted to be famous. I never intended to cash in on Connor’s success, not ever.
I always pictured him making it and me sitting quietly in the wings.
On his arm at events, but never in the spotlight for myself.
“You’re selling yourself so fucking short, Ella Edwards,” Vinnie says. “Don’t let that sonofabitch shove you in the limelight without reaping the rewards. He put your name in lights, so step out into the applause.” He sips his champagne. “Trust me, it’s a dream to have people chanting your name.”
“I’m a hooker, not a rock star.” I laugh. “I use my bodily assets, not my music talents.”
“That don’t matter shit. You use you. Be proud. Own it.”
My head is still reeling so bad I don’t know what to make of it. His words call deep, and give me a strange surge of emotion. I’m proud of being Holly, yeah, really proud. But what about Ella? Am I really proud of being Ella?
Have I ever been proud of being Ella?
I’ve been lucky. I’ve landed on my feet after the hell, and I pushed myself to get through the storm after Connor trashed me in the first place. But that’s because I was lucky enough to get the opportunity. Through Ebony, and Orla, and The Agency.
And not forgetting Josh, always there by my side.
I was so damn lucky.
Ella was lucky to be given the chance to be Holly.
I look into Vinnie’s eyes, and he’s looking right into mine, and something clicks. Something passes between us.
“Got you there, didn’t I?” he says. “Got that sweetheart brain of yours thinking?”
I giggle. “Are you a life coach as well as rock legend? Didn’t see that coming.”
He taps his head.
“Glad I’m not just a regular take some pussy and go kind of client.
Tell you something, it takes a fair bit of soul searching and soul breaking to hit the top of the charts and stay there.
Hitting it big is a boom of a thunder, but staying there keeps you on your toes.
Got to handle the publicity and know your own worth without relying on society for the thumbs up or the thumbs down.
Otherwise, you’re just bobbing along on the waves, living for other people’s approval.
Live for yourself. Be who you are. Stand proud. I learnt that lesson the hard way.”
I nod. His spoken words move me as much as his lyrics.
No wonder he made it so big.
I think of Connor, fucking everything up once he hit the dream.
But it’s not through being overwhelmed, or things going to his head and sending him crazy.
It’s because it’s who he is. Who he always was.
The bloated ego wanting every excuse to show it off was there from the day I met him.
He’s fucking his own path up by being himself. That’s who the world is seeing.
It’s seeing him.
I take a deep breath.
“Thanks for that, coach. Fuck me, I wasn’t expecting a soul search.” He’s got me good.
“What were you expecting?” he asks me. “Just some random guy with a hundred grand to throw at you for some kinky fuck time?”
“Yeah. I guess so. I try not to make assumptions.”
“What would you do for a hundred grand?”
I laugh. “Um, anything on my naughty list. You’ve seen which boxes are ticked.”
He laughs a fantastic laugh, that lights up his steel grey eyes.
“Yeah, I have. But maybe you should hitch your prices up a little. Trust me, the cash is coming your way.” He finishes up his champagne and pours another, topping mine up as he does. “So forget about your naughty list. Give me you.”
I hold up my glass.
“Here’s to me, then. The kinky fuck-doll. Glad you found me.”
“To Ella Edwards,” he says, and clinks my glass.
“To Ella,” I reply, and down my De Chante in one go.
“So let me get to know her. Tonight. Body as well as soul.” He leans over the bar top, my heart racing as he runs a thumb across my lips. “I want to get a true taste of the full package by sunrise.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I tell him, and slide the straps of my dress down. “You’re going to get more than a taste.”
I reveal my tits, one of the most impressive things on my menu, and I’m proud of them, standing tall. I giggle, letting myself free.
Ella.
The woman he searched for.
“Just like I thought,” he says, and licks his thumb before running it across my hard nipple. “You’re a fucking superstar.”
I look him in his beautiful eyes, and mine must be glowing with life as well as lust. I know it.
“Buckle up, wild thing,” I tell him. “Because you’re going to hear me roar.”