Page 18 of Taming Achilles

Too much had happened. Callum had run off into the sunset with his bride. A bride he had whisked to the altar - the first time, in secret - after only a few weeks of knowing each other’s name! A whirlwind romance, if ever I had seen one.

And I’d have to spoil it with news of these developments soon.

He might dislike Pippa. The engagement degraded what friendship they had. But he still wouldn’t want harm to come to her.

But how could I tell him that I impulsively offered her our services? That I was the one paying the bill? He’d know. The secret would be out. And whatever that did to our friendship, well … I wasn’t quite ready to think about that.

Honestly, I was surprised he hadn’t figured it out already. So many times a word had slipped, or a rebuke had fallen and I was sure he’d winkle our secret out from us. That he’d notice my bitterness was more than just the irritation I felt for the ridiculousness of modelling and fashion as a valid career choice.

I rose from the armchair, where she had just ridden me, and went into the bedroom I had banished her to. The sheets in her bedroom had been a pristine white. Mine were black. She lay on her stomach, a satin sheet draped over her arse, with only her bare back visible. Her hair draped behind her across the pillow. She should have been a painting.

I hadn’t let her shower. I hadn’t let her clean off the skin between her thighs. She had been too tired to protest. If I lifted that blanket, would I see the evidence of my use?

The window was wide open, just like she liked it. The warm air floated in, bringing the scent of the dry desert, and the soft hum of the traffic fifty stories below. It wasn’t dawn yet. It would be soon.

I leaned over her and placed a kiss on her shoulder blade.

She moaned, her bottom lip pouting in her sleep. I wanted to kiss those lips, but didn’t. Because tasting them again would be the end of me. The end of all my resolve. Her real power was in her kiss. She could speak a thousand words with just a small touch of those gorgeous lips, and you would believe every lie. She was an Aphrodite, walking among mortals, and she could own a man with a simple gaze.

I could hold to this agreement - this transaction - if I didn’t taste her mouth.

I could treat her like a whore, and a client, as long as I didn’t taste her petal soft lips. I had been lost in their spell before. It’s where a siren keeps her power.

The lights from street lamps floated up, and I ran a finger down her spine, down to the white sheet that lay at the dimples of her lower back. Then lower.

She had always been a stomach sleeper, one leg propped up, the other straight. It meant that one rounded arse cheek was always up, pert, with a pretty crease underneath, ready to be cupped in my greedy palm.

I pulled the sheet down further, until I saw the little treasure of wetness on her inner thighs. A gorgeous, fragrant mix of both of us. The creamy evidence of our arrangement.

I would have adoringly washed her five years ago. Or was it closer to six, now? Who remembers …

She wasn’t going to burn me this time. I wasn’t going to get crushed under her heel when she walked away into the arms of another man.

I delicately opened her purse on the nightstand. I pinched her phone between my finger and thumb, and quietly pulled it out. God, I was violating her privacy. I was a stalker.

Quit fartin’ aboot, you bawbag. I chastised myself. Stop messing around, you idiot.

If I didn’t watch out, I’d end up like Hugo.

Though, for once, his spying seemed reasonable. Downright genius.

I took her phone out of the room, to my laptop that lay on the Dining table we mostly used for work.

I was certain she knew more than she was telling, and I wouldn’t be able to do my job until I found out what that was. A client lying was not unusual. Doing deep background, phishing and straight hacking into their socials to discover their secrets were all par for the course. It always felt dirty, but was just good due diligence before deciding to take on new business.

So it was perfectly reasonable for me to get into her electronics. It was necessary for her protection.

I booted up my systems to plant the Trojan horse on her phone. I sent it, hiding it among her many apps, operating blindly, and without alerting the owner.

The bug in place, I slipped into the bedroom and put it back in her purse. I had a few minutes to spare before the sun came up. Brilliant.

With one loud tug, I pulled the sheet away, leaving her backside exposed to me. She stirred, moaning in sleepy contentment.

I undid my zipper as her eyes fluttered open. I bent over her on the bed, and placed myself at her entrance, and without ceremony, sheathed myself deep inside her heat.

“Geo, what are you … oh!” She groaned, then sucked in a deep breath as I bucked inside her.

She was still wet. Still ready. The perfect, willing toy to be used at my discretion. I clamped a hand over her mouth, pulling her towards me so she didn’t bounce away with my thrusts.

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