Breaking Leila (2 page)

It was
important that he called me by my call girl name, but I never
remembered that long enough to analyse. “No,” I said. “When?”

His laugh, dark
and unsettling, clawed its way from the depths of his throat. “When
you value something enough to give it a name, you should worry. You
think it makes it separate from you. You think it happens to
somebody else.”

I was suddenly
aware of a bruise that marbled my left knee, and a scratch that
meandered up my inner thigh. “I know it happens to me.”

“It happens to
Leila. Charlotte is the one who likes it,” he said, watching me.
“But then, Charlotte isn’t the one who’s being punished.”

I opened my
mouth. Ah–

Nothing.

“Because the thing is,” said the shadow, “even if
Charlotte
 
was
 
punished, I think she’d rather like that, too…wouldn’t
she?”

* * * *

Three more jobs. Then you can call it
quits.
 
In
the beginning, I couldn’t wait for my year at the agency to end.
Now, I felt numb about it. Made up little songs in my head on the
way.
 
Selling
my girl-parts, tra la la la la...

John, my
driver, pulled the car around to the back of the hotel. I still had
to remind myself not to wave to him–I was never an entirely
professional whore. Fortunately, my outfit said otherwise.

The client had
asked that I dress for “work.” I wore the same smart dresses in my
office, the heels made of leather like cake frosting and the
jackets cut for wandering eyes. The red curls that tumbled down my
back were all that was wanton about me–for now.

I’d led a
privileged life, but I’d never stayed anywhere like the Trafalgar
Met, with its dusty stone exterior and stern doormen in charcoal
suits. Tonight, the penthouse which stretched across the top floor
would host my clients. The Ladarna Agency never offered me less,
and when I’d first started, the plush couches, hot tubs and the
good Champagne had all made my predicament a little easier, as if
sinking to one level made me entitled to more on another. As if
staying in the shadows balanced the light and the dark.

Three more jobs.
 
It seemed like such a forlorn,
odd little number. It all came so easily now–what had happened to
me? Or what had happened to Charlotte? I could call myself by a
hundred names but the adrenaline still sang in veins that were
Leila’s, and no matter how many childish songs she hummed in the
back seat of the car, this was not a playground for little
girls.

I sucked composure from the air at the door of the penthouse,
adjusting my jacket so my breasts swelled over just a little. My
lips were glossed, cheeks warm. This was always the worst
bit–waiting to see who stood on the other side of the door. Two
knocks, and then the unlocked door swung back into the suite where
my gaze stretched to accommodate high ceilings, birch panelling and
antique lamps. A grandfather clock
 
tick-tocked
 
toward eight.

“Hello, Leila.”
A deep voice. A very familiar voice. A voice that knew my real
name.

Fuck.

Joseph stood beside a nest of Venetian couches. I
knew
 
his
 
name because he was a partner at Bach and Dagier, and none
other than my boss. Matt–of all people–sat nearby. Oh God. They
knew.

And they were
going to fire me.

“I–um–”

Joseph raised a
hand. “You don’t have to worry. We’re not trying to catch you out.”
He wore no smile, yet it sounded like he should. “This will be our
little secret...if you like.”

I froze. Tried
not to gawp at the pair of them. This was either career suicide or
a sordid little wet dream. We all knew how the partners played, and
stories about The Hotels haunted corners of the office, drooling in
curious ears. I’d never planned on taking part, though.

I was meant to be
 
safe
,
so why did it suddenly feel like a tragic waste of
hormones?

Joseph had intrigued me since I’d started at the firm. He had
a good ten years on me and a command that went with it. The world
squealed on its hinges when he blinked. Nordic blond hair and lush
green eyes did nothing to soften his rough edges, and I had
forgotten myself while staring at those broad shoulders and neat
hands in more meetings than I could count. It was only fantasy. It
was never
 
this
.

Then...Matt.
Ah. I’d tried not to think of him that way because we worked so
closely, but now I saw the entropy in the tall, sinewy boy so
curious to be corrupted, and I struggled to remember how the
politics here were blurred.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “Are…are you
 
hiring
 
me?”

Joseph beckoned
and I walked slowly–too fast and I’d have tumbled at that point. I
dropped my bag as I sank to join them, and he slid a fat envelope
into its front pocket.

“There,” he
murmured. “Now you’re bought and paid for.”

Don’t shiver like that when he–
Hello, Charlotte. You’re late.
 
Tick tock.

Matt turned to
me. “I know this is a little weird, but...but–”

“He’s nervous.” Joseph’s breath warmed my ear. “Matt’s never
been with a hired girl before. Have you, huh?” He eyed him over my
shoulder. “A girl who’ll do whatever he wants. When we saw you on
the website, we couldn’t resist.” There was a little hiss of air as
he inhaled the perfume at the nape of my neck. “
I
 
couldn’t resist.”

“Does she
kiss?” Matt twisted big hands in his lap.

Joseph tipped
my chin up and looked me in the eye. A beat...and then a quiver of
a kiss, as if he sampled me from a menu. He tasted sanguine–vodka,
sugar. Blood. “Yes.” He smiled. “She does.”

I’d barely
caught my breath before Matt pulled at my waist, his mouth harder,
hungrier. How odd to submit like this. I usually beat him at
everything. Earlier, in the office, had he known? His shoulders
were thick with tension, the muscles twitching beneath my
palms.

I threw my
voice against Matt’s ear. “This is a very, very bad idea.”

“Ah...I
know.”

“So–so what the
fuck–”

Matt's long
fingers cupped my chin. “Do you want to leave?”

Yes.
No. “This is awful, an awful idea…” It bordered on blackmail,
actually. I’d bet much money on the fact that I’d be fired tomorrow
if I didn’t play along.

Charlotte
didn’t have a problem with that. Maybe I didn't, either. Oh
God.

“Well?” he
whispered.

“I don’t
know…”

“She doesn’t
know,” said Joseph. “But she’s open to persuasion. Aren’t you?” He
tucked a curl behind my ear as he leaned in once more, his fingers
walking up my bare thigh. “Have you ever been with two men at
once?”

I shook my
head. Lies–surely, he knew that. 

“We won’t hurt
you. Not a lot.” He dragged my skirt up in a slow reveal. “Now. No
speaking unless you’re spoken to. If I hear a peep, you’ll be
punished. Do you understand?”

I nodded.
 
Even if Charlotte
 
was
 
punished…I think she’d rather
like that, wouldn’t she?

“Matt, fetch
Leila a drink. Nothing too strong.”

“Of course.”
Matt shuffled off to the bar, and Joseph set his fingers to my
jacket buttons. They parted as if they’d been buttered, and he
bared my shoulders slowly, making sure his hands brushed my skin.
His eyes were wide and alert. Interested. Like I was a potential
new contract and he was just limbering up. 

“Take your
knickers off,” he said.

At work, I questioned his decisions. Dissected them as part
of my job. Giving in to his demands like this, my mouth was so
stuffed with
 
yes
 
that it ached. Apparently, I was
 
very
 
open to persuasion.

I stared
straight at him and hooked my fingers over the slips of purple at
my hips. They were skewered with a heel before I kicked them
aside.

Matt returned
with a glass of something with tonic–strong despite what Joseph had
asked for, lots of ice and lemon. My alcohol tolerance was ever
appalling and I usually faked drinking on the job.

I set the glass
down and fell back between my captors.

Matt slid a
nervous hand over my knee, toying with the fabric of my dress. “I
like this. I recognize it.”

Joseph sprang
up to watch from another couch. “She’s yours. What will you do with
her?”

“You have no
idea how often I’ve thought of undressing you like this,” said
Matt. “Have…you ever thought of me?”

“Yes.” I swallowed as he eased off a shoe and blew on the
sole of my foot. Cold little slivers.
 
Oh
.

“Those nights
in the library, all I could think about was throwing you over the
desk and just...ugh...” He pulled off the other shoe and settled my
bare legs over his lap.

He’d grown
braver. Had he snorted something over at the bar? When we kissed,
our tongues darted between lips as words clung to them, unspoken.
My nipples ached through the flimsy dress and I wanted his mouth on
them, to push his head down and make him suck through the silk.

As Matt trailed a coarse tongue down my neck, Joseph smiled
from the opposite couch. His shirt fell open at the neck and a hand
sat over his cock. I bit my lip, but he shook his
head–
not yet
.

Matt pawed at
my dress. “Take it off. I just–I want you naked.”

Standing again,
I reached back to release the zip. The dress fell at my feet in a
pile of silky froth, and then I was bared before him, apricot
nipples jutting ahead. Heat lit his cheeks in a nervous flush. He
had seen me unsure often, but never like this. Never naked.

Straddling him
on the sofa, I took to his shirt buttons, and barely half were
undone before he tugged it over his head and slapped his hands over
my buttocks. One nipple rushed into his mouth as he sucked–I cried
out before I could stop myself.

Behind me,
Joseph tutted.

“Spank her.” A
delight peaked in his voice, an I-am-big pentameter.

Matt brought a
hot palm down on my ass.

I swallowed a
yelp. The fire of the slap spread between my legs, and I made do
with panting between his kisses, pushing my buttocks back into his
hand.

He chuckled. “Oh, you
 
like
 
it.”

Joseph inhaled
sharply. “Slip your hands under and spread her out right there.
Tell me how wet she is.”

Matt split my
outer lips. The pad of his thumb pushed against my clit before it
sank lower. “She’s soaked.”

Another twist
and I cried out; the next spank slammed me against his thumb and
made my pussy buckle. God, I wanted to be so much noisier. This was
a dangerous amount of fun.

“Soaked and
tight.” Honest words, sandpaper tone.

I closed my
eyes, rode his thumb. My fingertips snaked across my belly to
squeeze my breasts, and though I don’t remember ever being ashamed,
at that moment, I burned with the lack of it.

Then Matt
pulled his hand away and my complaint earned me another smack.

“Not yet,” he
said. The power trip was just as thrilling for him–his eyes were
glassy with it.

“What do you
think she should do now?” asked Joseph.

“I think she
should get on her knees, and...and...”

Suck him.
 
So polite–God, I wanted to pat him on the head almost as much
as I longed to taste him.

Matt gripped me
around the waist as he stood to plant me on the plush carpet.
Clothes were peeled, flesh was served.

I inhaled as
his cock sprang up, gazed at him as I trailed a fingertip along the
underside. Tanned and tight and lovely–why had I ignored this from
the other side of my desk?

He sat back,
shoved me down. The carpet turned to gravel on my knees. I sucked
until his head hit the back of my throat, and he stared with pained
intent as he swept curls from my face to watch me swallow. I
normally did this with a condom, but...ah, he tasted good, coated
in the sweat of a day’s work. His skin felt so smooth as the blood
surged beneath–so easy to pump my mouth over. I don’t know what
made me wetter– fulfilling Matt’s fantasy or bending over in front
of Joseph, bare and exposed. He spewed rough breath behind me and I
knew he was stroking himself.

Matt grew
louder until he arched, shoving further into my mouth. Pre-come
stuck to my tongue in a thick little ribbon.

The sofa
creaked and shed clothes rustled.

“Enough.”
Joseph eased me away with a loose fistful of hair, and I turned on
my sore knees, eager for my first mouthful of him. He smelled the
way flames do when you get too close to a fire.

“Stand up.” He
cupped my hips with firm hands, twisted me around. “Matt’s going to
return the favour. Aren’t you?”

Matt sat
forward and beckoned me to stand. He kissed my shaved mound,
spreading my legs to make room for his tongue. It dragged and I
squealed.

Joseph reached
around to roll my nipples and I ground my whole body forward, my
breasts into his hands and my pussy onto Matt’s face. I wanted him
to slow down, longed to be teased...I had to remind myself that
this was not for the little girl in the big boys’ corner of the
playground.