Elijah is gone by the time I wake up most mornings. Before I open my eyes, I slide my hand across the mattress and grumble under my breath. Then I mooch my way across London to class and spend the day in lectures and workshops while he does whatever it is that hot shot lawyers in three-piece suits do.

At night I go to the Mews under the cover of darkness and he makes me his own all over again.

My phone rings and I stretch against the luxurious bedding. Five days in I’ve come to the conclusion a cleaner must come in on a daily basis; either that or there are some housework fairies that make the bed every day.

I glance at the screen of my phone and smile, rolling over and snuggling under the duvet that smells of Elijah and sex. “Please tell me you aren’t still asleep.”

“Nope. I’ve been awake for ages, I’ve been for a run, done some sketching, and cleaned the kitchen.”

“Such a fibber.” Elijah’s voice purrs down the line and my stomach tightens in the most pleasurable way. “I’m hoping you’re free this evening?”

“Free? I’m free every night for you.” I stretch again, my muscles aching and pulling. “You know that.”

“I figured this time we could venture out of the house, maybe attempt dinner, some drinks; you know not just bedroom based activities.”

I raise myself up onto my elbows, hooking my phone under my chin. “I thought you liked our bedroom activities?”

“I do.” His voice is a low rumble and it sends a shiver along my skin. There’s a tap of keys in the background and it’s ridiculous to think he’s at work and I haven’t even managed to haul my lazy arse out of bed. “I just thought you might like to go out with me.”

“I’d love that.” I pause. “But what if we get seen? I thought I was still your secret.”

He sighs and there’s a lengthy stretch of silence.

“Anyway,” I say to fill it. “I think I’m out with people from uni later.” Why does this feel awkward. “I figured you’d be working.”

“It’s Friday, I’m not a complete dick.”

“I didn’t say you were. I just know how busy you are.”

“Where are you going? Maybe I could meet you.”

“Listen, I lied to Gerard the other day, told him that there was nothing between us.”

“You’re worried about lying to Gerard after what he’s done to you?”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s encouraged the new forgiving Faith.”

The keys in the background become a little louder. “Hmph.”

“Listen, I’d just rather not lie to anyone, but if you’ve got to sort things with your psychotic family, then so be it. And it’s not bothering me. It’s not like I mind being your dirty little secret you screw frantically every night.”

“Faith!”

I sit up and throw the duvet off. “Listen, I’ve got to get ready for classes.”

“I thought you were ready?” His voice softens with a teasing edge.

“Just another lie, Elijah.” I hang up the phone and pitch it onto the mattress before stalking to the bathroom. I flick on the shower and stand with my hands on my hips glaring at the powerful jets of water. Then I switch it back off again and go to collect my stuff.

Today I think I’ll shower in my own home.

Tabitha is on the couch, a bowl resting on her stomach. “Still bad, huh?” I ask as I drop my bag on the lounge floor.

“It’s fine. Absolutely fine.” She tries to get up but then just falls back on the pillows again, a thin film of sweat dotting along her pale skin. “Want me to make you one of those ginger teas, that helped yesterday?”

She shakes her head but doesn’t speak for a moment. Rolling over she gags into the bowl and I step up and rub her back. “You know,” I say, soothing her hair. “I can honestly say you’ve put me off pregnancy for a lifetime.” She shoots me a weak smile and then falls back on the sofa. “Seriously though, Tabs, you are being sick so much. I think we should ring the midwife back and get her advice.”

“It will pass.” Tabitha looks hopeful, but I’m not so sure.

“Where’s Lewis?”

Her eyes darken for a moment. “Gone to work with his dad. He hates it.”

I don’t have much to say to that. What with my art and tattooist career I’ve never really done a normal day’s work.

“How’s Elijah?”

“Busy.” I sigh and sit back on the sofa. “He works such long hours.”

She nods. “Remember I told you back at Bowsley I liked you being around because it meant I saw more of him?”

“Yes.” I nod.

“Now do you see what I mean?”

I scrub a hand down my face, even my skin feels tired. We haven’t been sleeping much, trying as we are to spend as much time together as we can, which is unfortunately only past the hour of nine thirty normally. “Yeah, I do. I hate the fact he’s working so hard at a job he hates.”

She shrugs. “It’s the Fairclough way.”

“The Fairclough way sucks.”

“Yeah, well at the moment I think he’s just got to keep his head down. One thing at a time. He’s pissed mother off enough I think.”

We sit in companionable silence for a moment while Tabitha stares at the ceiling until her colour comes back to normal a little.

My heart aches for Elijah. He’s still as trapped as he was when I met him, while he’s been slowly setting me free, pulling from the safety of rules, keeping me from the shadows of my fears—even if he had to make me face them by breaking my heart. Because of him I’m an artist with her own exhibition at the age of twenty-four.

“Do you know the name of any of his clients?” I sit up straighter as an idea begins to grow.

“It will be on their website. All the big clients are listed as assets.” Assets?

Whatever. I jump up and head to my bag, pulling my laptop out and my packet of cigarettes. I shake a smoke out of the packet and put it in my lips before glancing at Tabitha and remembering that she’s pregnant. I put it back in the box. I need to cut down anyway.

“Don’t mind me.”

“Nah. I don’t want you spewing all over my sofa.”

“Thanks.”

It doesn’t take me long to get Google up and search for Eli’s list of clients. Then grinning at Tabitha, I pick up my mobile and dial.

It takes me thirty seconds to get through to his secretary and ask for a lunchtime meeting as I pretend to be someone from Global Pharmaceuticals whom I found named on their website as a current client. My heart sinks when I’m told he’s in court which won’t end until noon for lunch. I need to be in class then. Bollocks. I tell the secretary I’ll see him in chambers as the meeting only needs to be quick, then I slip into the shower grinning to myself. I’ll miss class. If it puts a smile on his face, then so be it.

At five past noon I ask the law court clerk to point me in the direction of the offices and I search out the one with Elijah’s name on it, announcing my arrival to the secretary nursing a sandwich and a bottle of diet coke. “I’ll call you through,” she says, and I wait patiently while she rings and tells Eli that Janice Webster has arrived for the midday meeting. Her eyes graze over me as she answers a question I can’t hear. I’ve covered all my stories and lessons in a black button up shirt and black tailored trousers—honestly, I didn’t even know I owned something so structured and tailored. Paired with a pair of black stilettoes I look almost business like. It’s rather amusing.

“Mr Fairclough can see you now.” She points her biro at a corridor to the right. “Third door on the left.”

All the doors look the same and I count my way along. With each step, nerves twist my tummy. What am I doing here?

No seriously. What am I doing here? Outside the third door I hesitate. I can go now and not make a complete idiot of myself, not lay myself open and exposed.

Run and hide...

The door opens, and I pause there suspended in the moment, with my hand raised ready to knock.

If Elijah is startled to find me outside his office door, he hides it well. A brief flicker lights in his eyes and the nerves in my stomach morph into flames of anticipation.

Wearing a navy suit and waistcoat complimented by a vibrant pink tie he looks so beautiful I could stare at him all day, could spend forever trying to replicate him in art that will never been good enough.

“Miss Webster.” He holds his hand out to shake mine, but his fingers slide against my palm, warm and firm, slipping around my wrist as he tugs me into the room behind the door.

He kicks at the door, his fingers pulling me closer, edging me against surface of the door. The handle digs into my back, but I don’t care, his lips are on mine, slanting perfectly to fit as his warm tongue probes between my teeth. “What are you doing here?” His words lick warm minty breath into my mouth and I shiver with desire.

“I missed you.”

He pulls away slightly, his fingers tangling in my hair, tilting my face so he can read my eyes. “You were pissed with me.”

I shrug and slip my hands into the material of his suit, running my fingers across his cotton shirt, feeling the roll of his muscles beneath my touch. “Now I’m not.”

He appraises me for a moment, a slow smile tilting half his mouth into a sexy curve. “Come here.”

Then his mouth is on mine, hot and hard, soft and slow, everything all at once as every single one of our kisses are. I run my hands through his hair, playing with the strands at the base of his neck.

“My associate will be back in ten minutes.” He nibbles a kiss along the edge of my lips.

“What can you do in ten minutes?”

That smile grows and drops to my throat. A small sigh escapes me as his lips run across the sensitive skin of my throat and nibble on my earlobe. My earlobe and my core must be connected somehow. A darting tingle shoots straight between my legs.

“Wait.” I gush my reprieve as his hands slips around the waistband of my trousers, unhooking the catch.

“What am I waiting for?” He breaks his lips away from my throat to meet my gaze.

“Ten minutes?”

“Yes... Faith?” he warns, but I grin at him and push him away slightly so I can sink to my knees. He’s not the only one who can play dirty. This can be payback for the house in France, I’m still having vivid dreams about that moment in the empty hallway.

Swiftly, I unzip his trousers and tease my hand inside, freeing him from the confines of his boxers. He’s hard already, gleaming and smooth as I circle my hand around his width and lick at the end of his dick with my tongue. He shudders and it fills me with desire and control. I take him deep, filling my mouth with his smooth hardness, tilting my head so I can take him all the way to the back of my throat, then I suck and pull, my hand gliding up and down with the movement of my mouth.

“Faith, fuck,” he curses my name, his fingers tangling into my hair, holding my head still as he takes control of the rhythm and thrusts himself deeper and deeper into my mouth. I’m burning with my own desire. His hands leave my hair and spread against the door as he whimpers his rising climax. With three more thrusts he releases warm liquid at the back of my mouth, and he shivers uncontrollably as his body slumps a little. I swallow and with one last gentle pull, sucking every drop from his tip, I slip him back out of my mouth and zip him carefully back up. Licking my lips, I rise from my knees and stare him in the eyes. His hands catch my face, his mouth bursting onto mine with a reverent kiss. “I love you.” He peppers kisses along my cheeks, my nose, my eyelids and I giggle under their fluttering touch. He is so far from the barrister right now.

There’s a knock on the door. His eyes widen, a shy smile flickering across his face. “I’ll see you later.”

“Maybe.” I give him a cheeky wink and he opens the door, straightening his tie. There’s a young guy stood at the other side, two takeaway cups in his hands.

“Thanks for stopping by, Miss Webster.”

“Anytime.”

I make sure to walk off with a swing in my hips, knowing he’s watching. I glance at my watch and smile. I’ve still got time to get to class. Perfect.

––––––––

“MORE DRINK!” DYLAN sways a little and I narrow my eyes at him. The room is spinning. I think I should learn before my next birthday that shots are bad news.

“Are you even old enough to drink?” I lean forward to poke him on the chest but lose my balance and face plant the table.

“Faith, Faith.” Lydia pulls at my shoulder to lift me back up again and I rub at my face. I reckon that’s gonna bruise. “Faith, I can’t believe how much fun you are.” There is something wrong with her face. She’s got three eyes.

“I’m not fun. I’m drunk.”

“No, no, no. I always thought you were scary, with all your ink and all that, but really you’re lovely.”

“No. You’re lovely.”

“So, Faith?” Dylan interrupts us. “Are you really going to be on telly?”

I narrow my eyes at Dylan, but then realise it makes the room black. “Who told you that?”

“Steers.”

“I am here, you know,” Gerard says.

“We know.” I wave at him.

“So are you, Faith? Going to be on TV?”

I shrug. “Maybe. I don’t know what I’m doing, I never do.” Gerard rolls his eyes. “I saw that.” I scowl in his direction. “I need to go home. This pub is seriously unstable.”  I blink a little as I get off my stool and the room spins again. It’s like being on a Waltzer at the fairground.

“So, are you coming to Legends on Sunday?” Lydia asks.

I shake my head making my brain rattle. “Nope, I am way too old to go clubbing on a Sunday.”

“Come on, Faith. It’s the best night of the week.”

“Sundays are for roast dinners and snuggles by the fireplace, not an evening at London’s biggest gay club.”

Honest, I can’t believe Lydia—who I always thought was so quiet and timid—spends her Sunday nights dressed up and waving inflatable dildos in the air.

I grab my bag and fish about in the dark depths for my mobile. Gerard gets up. “Can I give you a lift? We can share a cab.”

I shake my head, finally finding my phone. “No, no. I’m fine.”

He looks hurt, but really he can grow up. There is only one bed I want to sleep in tonight and no one else can know I’m in there.

Seems stupid to me right now... but rules are rules...

Hold on. Aren’t I the one with rules? What happened to mine? I can’t remember.

I make my way outside only to find that it’s gushing rain. Not a steady shower—this is a full-on summer pour down.

I start to walk in the direction of Kensington and press the only number I want to call on my phone.

“Hi.”

“Where on earth are you? I’ve been worried.”

“Have you? Why?”

“Because it’s midnight and I thought you’d be here.”

“It’s midnight? No shit, is it?”

There’s a sigh. “Yes. It’s midnight, now where are you? It’s pissing it down, I don’t want you catching your death.”

“Listen to you being all caring and considerate.”

“Well.” His voice lowers. “That and you need a serious telling off for the stunt you pulled at Court today.”

“Hey. I thought you liked my blow jobs.”

“I do.” He sighs. “I really do. But not when the Judge is in the room next door.”

Oh.

“Well that’s a bit dirty.” I splash in a big puddle and flood my flats with dirty rain water.

“Where are you?” His voice rumbles low.

“No idea.”

“Where have you been?”

“The Green Man.”

“But there are a hundred.” He chuckles as he repeats one of our earliest conversations back at me.

“Come find me, Elijah.”

“I’m a lawyer, not a bounty hunter.”

“Come find me, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

There’s another sigh. “Green Man near the university by any chance?”

“Yes.” My feet are killing. I find a row of cement steps and sit on the lowest one. “Yes.”

“Stay there.”

“Will do.”

“Are you under a street light.”

“No idea, it’s dark here.”

“Ah crap, Faith. How drunk are you?”

“Very.”

The line goes dead, and I hum to myself.  A couple walk along and ask if I’m okay, but I wave them on with a smile. I don’t know who they are asking—they can’t even walk straight themselves. Rude.

I’m building a statue from fallen leaves and discarded cigarette butts when a shadow falls across my path, illuminated by headlights.

“Come on, Sunshine.”

“Where am I coming?” I try to wink, but the eye I shut won’t reopen again.

He chuckles and lifts me by the elbows like a dolly. “With me.” His breath rushes across my skin. “Always with me.”