My mouth drops open, needing to scream but knowing I can’t.
‘I love watching you like this. Desperate for me. You’re so fucking beautiful.’
‘Please, Gregory.’
He releases his grip and pushes his pelvis up. Our mouths lock as we moan into each other. I slowly rise and bear down on him, hard.
‘Jesus!’ he barks.
I rise again and crash down on him, feeling him reach the top of me. He takes hold of me, moving me round until we settle into a fast, deep, mind-blowing rhythm.
‘I’m close.’ My words are hoarse.
‘Let go, baby. I want to feel you come for me.’
He moves us faster until my body can’t take any more. I throw myself forward and bite his chest through his shirt. My hips thrust uncontrollably as he continues to turn his swollen shaft inside me. My scream is muffled but it takes him to the edge. He slams his cock up into me and throws his head into my chest, his fingers digging painfully into my waist. He fills me as quietly as his release will allow.
I can’t bring myself to look at Jackson as he holds the door open for me in the basement car park. The three of us ride the lift in silence. It must be written all over my face. I feel ravished, dirty in a way that’s a total turn-on. My vexation is now lost in a sea of lascivious thoughts.
The lift pings at the sixty-fourth floor but my mind is in a state of trance, thinking aboutthatfuck. In the middle of the road, in the heart of London, with Jackson in the front seat. Gregory’s hands rest on my shoulders and he guides me out of the lift. We follow Jackson into the apartment, Gregory moving me forward with his palm on the small of my back.
‘I’ll take these to the office,’ Jackson says, holding up my laptop bag and documents.
‘Thank you,’ I manage.
‘Hello, darling, you must be shattered. Gregory said you worked all night.’ Amy takes in my tousled hair.
‘Erm, yes, I’ve got a deal on.’ That isn’t a lie. I was working on Mr Ghurair’s upcoming deal but I miss out the part about spending most of the night doing not much at all, my head in a spin.
‘Can I fix you something to eat?’
‘She needs breakfast, Amy,’ Gregory answers for me. ‘Go take a shower,’ he says to me, ‘then come and eat.’
As much as I’d like to argue with him and fire off some smart quip, I’m suddenly drained. I take myself off, not because he’s directed me to do so but because I actually do need a shower. I needed a shower before he made me all sticky between the legs. Now Idefinitelyneed one.
I scrub myself clean, then roughly blow-dry my hair before dressing in a pair of leggings and an oversized jumper. Gregory is in his office when I tiptoe across the landing.
‘Fuck Nick! He’s not getting a penny.’ Through the ajar door, I can see the top of his head, his leather chair facing out of the window into the low, autumn-winter sun. ‘I’m paying people off left, right and centre right now as it is. I’m damn sure that bastard isn’t getting anything. Tell him if he wants money, he should get out and fucking earn it.’
He slams the phone down on the desk and drags a hand furiously through his hair.
Slipping through the door, I ask sheepishly, ‘Is everything okay?’
It’s a stupid question really, and one with an obvious answer, but he lifts his head calmly. ‘It’d be good if the CPS made a decision sometime soon.’
‘It would.’
He rotates his chair sideways as I move towards him and I crawl onto his lap.
‘Is Nick Henshaw trying to fight his termination?’
‘It was a resignation, not a termination, and yes. But he’s not going to get anywhere with it. He’s just an itch.’
‘And the other people you’re paying off?’
‘Press. I don’t know how they’ve found out.’
I lean my head into his chest. ‘I guess these things make for good gossip.’
