‘Then you still get to take me to the cleaners.’
‘So, if I’m understanding this right, you’re putting yourself straight into a lose-lose situation.’
‘I see it as a win-win situation. And just for the record, neither of us is ever going to fuck up.’ He grinds his cock against my crotch, driving me crazy. ‘I have absolute faith in this. Failure’s not an option.’
And it’s not. Whatever problems we come across, we’ll see them through together. If we can get through the present crisis, we can get through anything. I reach up and touch his cheek. He kisses my fingers before he goes on.
‘With that sort of money, you need to be cautious, and I want to keep you safe.’
So, that’s what he’s getting at. Even after Boyd’s gone, he’ll still want to protect me. And I’d like to know exactly how far this is going to go.
‘Which means?’
‘Increased security at the house, new gates, a permanent guard, nothing obtrusive.’
‘I don’t want to be tailed all the time.’
‘I know. It doesn’t exactly bring out the best in you.’
He widens his eyes, and I know what he’s referring to – my little trip to Fosters, a mobile in the Thames, a surprised Mr Sun, and a quick one in the lift.
‘I’ll try not to go over the top,’ he says. ‘But we’ll need to take care. I’ll make no decisions without consulting you.’
‘You’d better not,’ I warn him. ‘So, that’s it?’
‘I’d say so. Deal completed. Where do I sign?’
‘Wherever you like.’
‘How about here?’ He kisses me on the mouth. ‘Or here.’ He moves to my throat, skimming his mouth across my flesh. Goose pimples prick into life. ‘Or maybe a little further down the page.’
Releasing my hands, he readjusts his position, sweeping his lips over my sternum, up to my right breast, stopping to lick at my nipple and setting off a rush of tiny tremors.
‘About half way down,’ I prompt him.
His lips move again, across my midriff, my stomach.
‘Here?’ he asks, stopping at my tummy button and running his tongue around it.
‘Further.’
‘Oh … I see.’
With a wicked glint in his eye, he moves further down, his lips barely touching me now. But I can feel his breath, warm and enticing, leaving me super-sensitive wherever he goes. He stops at my crotch this time.
‘Can’t see a dotted line.’
I close my eyes as his tongue comes to my clitoris. I buck at his touch.
‘Better date it too.’
The tongue’s removed, coming back into contact with my skin half way between my vagina and my back passage before licking a line back up to my clit.
‘You’re wet, you filthy woman.’
‘Is it any wonder?’
I get another mischievous look, and then he begins to work at me with his tongue. Slow, lazy movements encourage the knot of nerves to send out a host of messages through muscles, sinews and skin. I’m about to let out a shameless groan when I hear a bump.
We both give a start.
‘Who’s that?’ I ask.
‘The maid?’ He gets up quickly and pulls on his joggers. ‘Maybe she’s looking for her ring.’ Slipping on a T-shirt, he waves back at the bed. ‘Stay there.’
He opens the door and peers round the edge.
‘Gordon,’ he exclaims. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’
Gordon’s voice wafts through the apartment.
‘Good morning, love’s youngish dream. We need to talk.’
Dan backs into the bedroom.
‘You’d better get dressed and come out here.’
‘Get dressed in what?’
‘I don’t know,’ he shrugs. ‘Make it up.’
He disappears. Desperate to get out there and hear the latest news, I spring up from the bed and scan the room for possibilities, discovering nothing but the stockings and yesterday’s shirt.
‘How the hell am I supposed to make it up with that?’
Tugging open a wardrobe door, I search through Dan’s selection of clothes: jeans, T-shirts, joggers, a couple of suits, more shirts. Finally, my fingers light on a dress … my dress. He must have hung it for me. Pulling it on, without any form of underwear whatsoever, I rush out to join the men.
‘Hey.’ Installed on a sofa, Gordon sips lazily at a cup of coffee. ‘How’s it going?’
‘I don’t know,’ I answer, readjusting the dress. ‘You tell me.’
‘I’ve sold your triptych.’
‘What?’
‘Sold.’ He examines his nails. ‘To a very influential collector based in this wonderful city. He loved it, wanted it and snapped it up. There were other offers, but they didn’t stand a chance. There’s also a lot of interest in any similar work you might produce. You’d better get busy.’
‘Jeez.’
He turns to where Dan’s busy examining today’s breakfast. Evidently Gordon brought the trolley in with him. Lifting the lid on the platter, Dan picks up a slice of bacon and pops it into his mouth.
‘Good enough?’ Gordon asks.
‘Same as yesterday, minus the ring.’ Dan replaces the lid and sets about pouring drinks.
‘Ah, the ring. Do you like it, Maya?’
Flopping onto a sofa and careful not to give Gordon a flash of my crotch, I raise my hand and display the diamond. ‘I love it.’
‘Well, that’s a relief. We had people from Tiffany’s come over here. Simple, classy and silver. That’s all he knew. They showed him a selection and he panicked. I had to step in, give him the gay perspective, generally save the day.’
‘You did a good job.’
A cup of tea appears under my nose. I take it.
‘We said tomorrow morning, Gordon.’ Holding a coffee, Dan sinks onto the sofa next to me. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Clive called this morning. Your Mr Boyd just raised his ugly, Scottish head.’
In spite of the sunlight pouring in through the windows and the warm touch of the
