Chapter 14
LANIE
I woke to our doorbell ringing. Still in pajamas, I raced downstairs to a black suited man with a clipboard. Assuming he was here to convert me to a religion, I opened the door mostly annoyed.
“I’m Catholic, definitely not interested in being saved, and not worth your time, honestly,” I said.
Confused, he cocked his head. “What? Is Lanie Day here?”
“That is my stage name, yes,” I said.
“I am here to deliver a gift,” the man said.
“Oh… okay?” I looked around but saw nothing. “Where is it?”
He stared like I had two heads, “Were you expecting us to put the bow on it? Because that’s just for the Christmas commercials. I swear, women always expect the bow!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I really don’t.”
“The RX?”
He turned.
“What is an RX?”
“The Lexus?”
“A car?” I asked, confused.
He stared.
“This is from my sister, right?”
“IF your sister is Basil Osgoode, then yes,” he snickered.
Basil? It took me a moment. Baz was short for Basil. Weird. Basil didn’t fit the man in the slightest.
“Baz… sent me a car,” I said.
“Per him, it’s a lease that can be converted. He wasn’t sure if you were choosing to stay in the UK long. He also wanted you to verify that you like the blue. He thought it would look nice with your hair.”
I snickered. “Are you fucking serious?”
“I have a set of notes I must read from. That was on there.”
“People embarrass you with this stuff, huh?”
“Sometimes. Can you sign here, please, ma’am?”
I took the clipboard and signed, granting his request. “Thanks.”
He handed me the keys. Astounded, I went outside barefoot and looked in the windows of the beautiful new car.
Baz was insane, but I had wheels! It was time to get out in the world.
I wasn’t sure how I would explain to everyone that a billionaire bought me a car, but wouldn’t turn down hundreds of gift horses in the form of a high-powered engine.
I changed, put on some eyelashes, and got ready before taking my new chariot out to the races.
Or, rather, as far as getting to Victoria station to find a car park.
Growing up in a very public way made life weird for me.
Trips on transit were forbidden, and we always flew private.
As a result, I never learned to read a transit map and feared crowded spaces.
Cars were freedom for me the minute I got my license.
Of course, working in Hollywood and traveling ended that.
Baz had no idea the achievement he unlocked.
After finding a valet, I bought admission to the National Gallery and asked a docent for help.
“I’m looking for the Countess of Dwyfor. Lady Ruth Morgan,” I said.
“Oh, yes. I’ve had people looking. She’s a character in that television show, they say.”
“I play her,” I said. “The director and showrunner told me there was a painting of her and I’m dying to see it.”
“Really?” The older woman’s face lit up. “You’re an actress? Oh, how fabulous!”
“Can be,” I laughed. “Sometimes.”
“I’ll bring you to see it.”
I followed the peppy woman across the place until I stood looking at the portrait.
Lady Ruth sat looking off into the distance, painted profile, sitting in her wedding dress and tiara.
I couldn’t see a family resemblance with Leah, but I almost saw one with myself.
Her alabaster skin, blue eyes, and gorgeous auburn hair did make her very visible.
Her slightly round cheeks and high cheekbones made her look possessed of a warm, happy heart.
“She was beautiful,” I said.
“She was. Tortured, they say. Married off to man she didn’t love for a title. And for what? So her mother could gloat.”
“They didn’t have an altogether unhappy marriage, though,” I said.
“Eventually, they fell for one another. It turns out the Earl was a misunderstood, awkward man with some demons—largely caused by his unstable home life growing up—and with a little love and support, they were there for one another. They both experienced loss and an odd start in life, but grew up together a bit. It’s a beautiful story, but I agree. Fuck her parents.”
The woman snickered, probably embarrassed by my frankness. “I am glad it had a happy ending. Did they have children?”
“She went on to give him six children. Sadly, the last was only a few months old when he fell ill and died of pneumonia. He was much older. I’m one of six, so somehow, I relate to her.”
“That’s so sad.”
“It is, but in her diaries, she reflected that she would rather have loved and lost than never met him and that he taught her to trust in someone other than herself. It’s a lovely story for certain.”
“Do you need anything else from me?” The docent asked.
“No,” I said. “I’m going to look around. Thank you for your help.”
The woman stepped away, leaving me to stare at the face of a woman whose fate could have ended so much worse—the fate my mother would have had if she wed Baz’s father many years before.
BAZ
I was in a business meeting on a development in Southwark when my mobile buzzed several times.
At first, I ignored it, then I saw it was Lanie.
Given that I was still in some sort of punch-drunk situation where I thought about her at least every few minutes, I wanted to hear what she would say.
I hated how much I wanted her and how much space in my mind she occupied.
LANIE
You’re not going to say anything about leasing a car for me?
Daddy Vibes, what have I done to you?
Also, thank you.
I cringed at Daddy Vibes—something she no doubt knew and exploited. She pushed every button and knew how to make me squirm. I hated it, but willingly took on Daddy Vibes if it meant I’d get access to her more readily. She was usually very giving.
ME
Lanie, I couldn’t have you stranded again.
LANIE
Do you think I am more indebted to you now?
ME
If you were, what would I get?
She typed. I focused too much on the bubbles flashing, I longed to see what sort of lurid non-answer she’d give me.
“Baz, are you with us?”
I turned back to Jeremy whose face showed confusion.
“Apologies. An issue,” I said. “What do you need?”
“Council requirements. Do you have concerns?”
“Not unless you do,” I said.
“I suppose not,” Jeremy said. “Well, that’s it for now on my agenda. Are there any other worries?”
My mobile buzzed.
LANIE
I’d let you eat me out on your dining table.
That response should not have made me get hard like a hormonal teen thinking about his crush in class.
I shouldn’t have contemplated making Jeremy reorganize my afternoon to run back to mine and eat Lanie out like it was my fucking life’s work.
I tried to think about anything but wanting to taste her, but came up short.
I managed to get rid of my previous level of rallying excitement for long enough to tell Jeremy I had a thing come up and needed him to bump my 2PM.
He did, grudgingly, as I texted Lanie.
ME
Meet me in 20.
LANIE
Okay. I’m at Harrods, so you’re in luck. Will stop by and leave my car here with the valet.
ME
Technically, it is my car. You’re borrowing it.
LANIE
Possession is 9/10ths of the law, baby
ME
Not quite. Door code for the day is 12879. Type it in and then press 7. Let yourself in if you get there first.
My driver drove me home all too slowly. When I arrived, the house was silent.
It was a buzzkill as I wanted so badly to come home to her looking spectacular.
I didn’t have to wait long though. When I arrived in my dining room, Lanie was naked, poised on the edge of the long table with her legs kicking casually.
I slowly approached, playing it cool, and pulled her even closer to the edge.
“This is what you do?” I asked, playing with her nipple.
“You said you wanted me. I told you what I was willing to do.”
I placed my jacket on the chair next to her and tried to feign calm even if my palms sweated with anticipation. I tortured her with a kiss on the neck, running my hand up her thigh slowly but I stopped short of her pussy.
She whined, “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. You didn’t say anything about fingering you,” I protested. “That wasn’t part of our hedonistic bargain.”
She pouted. “Make me cum. Don’t tease me, Baz.”
“I am doing expressly what was agreed upon, Lanie.”
I didn’t know how she had already estimated the distance of my face from the floor if I knelt, but she nailed it.
I dropped to my knees and came face-to-face with her pink pussy.
I kissed her thighs playfully. She was unsatisfied with that, giving off an impatient, greedy gaze as I took in the bit of her I’d not yet tasted.
I kissed the small bit of red hair above her clit, then slowly made my way down.
As I gently licked her wetness, the release and relaxation within her hit.
She rolled her hips towards me and grabbed my hair.
I pulled back, pushing her hands away.
“Patience is a virtue, Lanie.”
“Who said I was virtuous, Baz?”
Good point.
I sucked her clit slowly, taking in the full taste of her.
She was sweet and soft. She met everything I’d imagined, but the unexpected low moan I elicited felt even better than before.
I’d assumed she played up her reactions for me with other people—to torture me.
Instead, she was even more willing. Like putty in my hands, I brought Lanie closer.
I pushed both her legs back over my shoulders, pressing my palms into the tops of her thighs to steady myself.
She held onto the table for dear life. Every time I looked over to see her white knuckles, I grew harder still.
She was undeniably sexy—wanton, impulsive, greedy.
She was everything I could have asked for in a woman.
I reveled in how she smelled, tasted, and sounded as she ground against my face, desperate for a release.
Quicker than I expected and with more force than I anticipated, she broke my rules, grabbing my hair and pressing me against her pussy as she came.
“Oh, Baz, fuck!” Lanie screamed.
She dripped down my chin, leaving me satisfied. I’d done everything to get her here.
“Fuck me,” Lanie pleaded
I pulled away, pinning her to the table. “That is all you get. I will not fuck you. You’re too badly behaved.”
I’d do anything to torture her now. I only knew it would whip her up more.
Even if I delayed my own gratification, I held all the cards.
Lanie Day was mine to own, torture, and please.
And while we were never exclusive, keeping her satisfied also drew her back every time.
She was loyal so long as I continued to work her over so well.