Page 18 of London's Calling: Part 1
Me
Prick!
Priest
I’ll let Fletch know.
Me
See you in an hour.
I dress and have James drop me off at Priest’s. There are a couple of extra cars parked in his drive, but nothing like the party the other night.
The door opens as I approach, and I was expecting Fletch, but instead I’m greeted by a woman wearing a bikini. I guess Priest decided on a pool party. Good job I keep some clothes at his, including swim shorts.
I smile as my eyes trail over her rack, which is spilling out the sides of her bikini top. She hands me a drink, some shot, and I down it before tossing the plastic shot glass over my shoulder as I enter the house.
“Hey,” she purrs, walking backwards as her fingertips run up and down my chest. “Let’s get you out of these clothes and into something a little more…appropriate.”
I grab her hand, stopping her movement. Her lips pout and she bats her damn eyelashes at me. “How about I meet you in the Jacuzzi in ten minutes, okay?” I tell her, peeling her hand away from me.
She cocks her head to the side. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Mickey,” she whispers before spinning on her…heels, actual fucking heels, and sashaying down the corridor toward the indoor pool room.
A hand slaps me on the back. “Hey, man. I see you met Crystal already.”
“Crystal?” I arch a brow.
Fletch shakes his head with a smirk. “Yeah, I don’t think it’s her real name. Come on.”
“Strippers?” I ask as I follow him.
“No idea. All I know is they are up for pretty much anything.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter as we reach the small changing room just outside the pool area.
“There’s some of your swimming trunks in there. See you in a minute.”
I change and head out to the pool, stopping to grab a beer from the fridge.
“So, what’s got you so fucking worked up?” Priest calls as I walk into the pool up to my waist.
“Fucking Simmonds!”
“The guy is enough to make anyone want to get pissed and fuck,” Priest says, steering the rubber ring he’s in over to me. “Let’s go chat in the sauna.”
I spot Crystal in the Jacuzzi making out with another girl, and normally that would have me hard, but not tonight. I’m barely at half-mast. A few more beers and get this shit with Simmonds off my chest, then I should be good to screw and vent the last of my frustration.
Priest ramps up the heat in the sauna, and I fill him in on what happened with the bid for Tower Hotels.
“Rumour has it they’re bleeding money quicker than water through a sieve. There’s no way they can survive. Clayton’s a fucking moron.”
“Yeah, well, he’s going to need a big fucking investment to keep above water if he’s not going to sell.”
“Only one other person with that kind of money aside from your dad.”
“Franklin fucking Hart!”
Priest nods but doesn’t say anything else as the door opens and Crystal and her friend from the Jacuzzi enter. Crystal was barely wearing anything before and now she’s wearing even less—stark fucking naked.
