THIRTEEN
Waking up with the sun already high in the sky and a warm female body pressed against mine was nirvana.
Heaven on earth. And a completely unfamiliar sensation to me, for so many reasons.
I glanced at the clock and saw how late it was. Even when jetlagged, I never stayed in bed this late. Of course, that could be because I didn’t usually wake next to a woman.
All-nighters had never been my thing. I’d always slip out before sunrise.
Given how good it felt waking next to Chelsea, that habit was going to change—at least for the short remainder of my time here.
Just the thought of my leaving—which was never far from my mind these days—rent my good mood in pieces and then stomped the remains of it into the ground.
Bollocks.
To let the future rob me of today would be a waste of my truly epic morning wood.
Next to me, a beautiful woman I much more than liked breathed slow and steady in sleep. She was blissfully unaware of all my inner turmoil as I lay behind her, and I wanted to keep it that way.
Chelsea slept on her side, facing away from me with her back pressed against my front.
Perfect.
Beneath the sheet, I ran one hand down her thigh, lifted and then hooked her leg over mine as I pressed my length inside her.
She moaned. The sound was soft and sleepy and sexy and made me want her even more. I thrust deeper and she expelled a breath.
I could become addicted to waking to this each morning.
Reaching around front between her legs, I worked her with one hand while plunging deep from behind. She was crying out in mere moments.
Chelsea said my name in the midst of her orgasm. My name on her lips as her body gripped mine finished me off—in more ways than one.
How could I leave? But how could I stay?
As I held her tight and we both struggled to regain our breath, I came full circle with still no solution to the problem. I was still expected back in London. Nothing had changed.
I’m not sure what I had been expecting. Some sort of post-coital epiphany, I supposed.
Instead, all I’d come away with from our morning activities was what felt like a lead weight in my chest in the vicinity of my heart and a happy but well-spent cock.
One out of two wasn’t bad.
Chelsea rolled over onto her back with a groan. “I need to shower.”
We both did, but since she shared the flat, I opted against the idea of our sharing a shower. Her roommate might frown upon that. I’d heard Trina come home after Chelsea had already fallen to sleep last night.
Then there was the fact that I’d seen her shower stall. It was possibly smaller than the telephone boxes that still occasionally dotted the streets back home.
With a groan of my own, I released my hold on her. “All right, love.”
Her lips twitched with a smile. I echoed it and asked, “What’s got you so amused?”
“You. Calling me love. I like it. It’s so . . . British.”
“If you like that, you’ll really enjoy when I call someone a wanker or a knob.”
She beamed brighter. “Oh my God. I can’t wait for that.”
I laughed, shaking my head at her excitement. “Go on now, so I can shower after you.” We needed to get our day started. It was getting late and the only things I’d accomplished had been getting off and amusing my girlfriend.
Girlfriend. The word echoed through me like a cannon shot. As I absorbed the concept, and realized that’s what Chelsea had become, I also realized something else. I was falling for a woman I was about to be living thousands of kilometers away from.
I grabbed for my cell phones—both of them. The only way to take my mind off how much I was going to miss this feeling of what it would be like to have a normal life, to live and love like a regular man, would be to throw myself back into work.
Checking my secure work phone first, I found a message from the home office instructing me to let them know my arrival information when I had it.
I blew out a breath and tossed that phone to the side. Avoidance wasn’t a good plan but it was the only one I had at the moment.
My other phone yielded something that grabbed my attention fully. A voicemail from the manager at Angel Escort Services.
I held my breath as I pressed to listen to the message. I had, after all, dragged Chelsea out of their event just yesterday, and she’d lied to security on the way out.
It took just seconds for me to realize this was a sales call and had nothing to do with the embassy event.
Relieved, I could concentrate on the content of the message. It seemed I was being invited to a private party today as a guest of the agency, but I had to call for more details if I was interested.
Yes, I was interested. It could be a lead to finding Morgan, which would go a long way in relieving my worry over Chelsea trying to do so on her own after I left.
The call had come in last night.
Determined to get this investigation moving in the short time I had before I had to fly to New York, and then back to London, I hit to return the call.
It was early for business hours—though less early than it had been before our morning sex so maybe Mark Hargrove would answer the phone.
“Hello,” a male voice said.
“Tristan Fairchild returning Mark Hargrove’s call.” My clipped, professional tone on the phone masked the true maelstrom within me.
“Mr. Fairchild. I’m so happy you called. I understand you recently stopped by the Angel Escort Services offices."
"Yes. I had needed a couple of companions to entertain some visiting dignitaries, but as it turns out, the trip was postponed."
"Not a problem. We'll be here to provide what you need when you're ready. This is actually about another part of our business, our invitation-only, private club for our most discriminating clients. I’d like to extend an invitation to you and a date for a VIP private event this evening for our Sanctuary Club members, if you’re not otherwise engaged.”
Yesterday’s VIP event where I’d found Chelsea amid the politico still fresh in my mind, I said, “I’d love to attend.”
“Wonderful. I think tonight’s event will be a good introduction of what else we can offer as a company. It’ll be an intimate affair attended by our local members and their guests. We’ve set a limit of only one hundred attendees.”
Only one hundred. This man had a strange concept of size.
“And what is the dress code?” I asked.
“Men in tuxedos with a proper bow tie. Ladies in formal gowns or lingerie. And masks, of course. We do provide masks at the door if you don’t have your own. Oh, and if you choose to use the pool, swim shorts are required for men. For women clothing is optional or they may choose to wear a bikini.”
“All right. That won’t be a problem.” I managed a tone of cool indifference as my mind spun.
Lingerie. Clothing optional.
His description of the dress code of this party made me realize what I’d seen at the embassy yesterday was just the tip of the iceberg. A completely different type of VIP event than this one.
“You’ll be attending tonight as our guest, but if you decide to join we offer an annual VIP membership that includes admission to all our private parties, such as the one tonight, for seventy-five. Just to clarify, that seventy-five thousand is in US dollars.”
Seventy-five thousand dollars a year. And I’d wager there were businesses, and embassies too, who’d written off that expense, slipping it into their entertainment budget.
Angel Escorts had quite the racket going.
Hargrove continued, “We also offer a per-party rate of fifteen-hundred. There’s a five hundred dollar discount on that rate if the male member is accompanied by a female partner.”
A discount for bringing a female—there was no doubt left in my mind that this was some sort of a private sex club.
Christ. Chelsea had stumbled into one hell of a situation. Thank God I was here with her and, if needed, we had Zane and his resources for backup.
“Can we expect your attendance, Mr. Fairchild? I’d love to show you what we have to offer.”
“Uh, yes. Yes, you can.”
I swallowed hard as my gaze shot to the still-closed bedroom door.
Chelsea would want to come. I knew that. If there was a chance we’d find clues to Morgan’s location there was no way she’d agree to be left safely at home while I went alone.
I drew in a breath. “With a date.”
“Excellent. I’ll text you the time and address?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“My pleasure. See you tonight, Mr. Fairchild. I’m sure it will be an experience you’ll never forget.”
“I’m sure it will.” I hit to disconnect the call as the door opened.
I saw Chelsea, hair wet from the shower, wrapped in a different robe this time. “Trina’s in the kitchen making coffee if you want—”
Chelsea frowned as she saw me sitting on the bed, no doubt looking as shell shocked as I felt. Her gaze dropped to the cell still in my hand.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Uh . . .” I wasn’t often speechless. I was now. I swallowed and dove right in. “That was Mark Hargrove from Angel Escorts on the phone. He invited me, and a date, to a private party tonight. Men in tuxedos. Women in gowns. Or lingerie. Clothing optional. Everyone wears masks.”
Her eyes widened in reaction. “It’s a sex party.”
“We could find something out about Morgan.”
“Yes,” I agreed.
“I need to figure out what to wear.” She spun toward the dresser and pulled out a drawer, pawing through lingerie while saying, “I have a box of red dye I bought for an audition. I’ll throw that on my head. It’ll only take an hour. With red hair, and a mask, I don’t think they’ll recognize me.”
She was talking fast and I could see her hands shaking.
Tossing the cell onto the nightstand, I stood and walked to her. I wrapped my hands around her arms and turned her to face me. “You sure you want to come? You don’t have to. I can go alone.”
“I’m coming.” Her eyes met mine, daring me to argue.
I heard and saw the determination in her. As I’d expected she wasn’t about to be left home while I went alone.
“All right.” I tightened my fingers, giving her arms a squeeze for reassurance. “Go. Dye your hair. I’ll find you something to wear.”
Her gaze on mine, I saw the turmoil of emotions in her. If she had doubts, she wasn’t going to let them stop her.
Thank God I was going with her, to protect her.
No. Not just to protect her. There was no place else I wanted to be than by Chelsea’s side no matter the situation.
I’d deal with that reality later. Now I had a sex party to prepare for.