‹ Prequel: The Way You Want It.
Forever
1
Leeds United Kingdom.
The bar was dark, she struggled to see him among the crowds, his blonde hair separated him. She had to give it to him, the limp was almost gone now, hardly noticeable to the untrained eye. Fayth Fallen sat at a table drinking soda water quietly, her attentions resting on a man she had not seen for years, a man she had noticed just hours ago, she had followed him here only to find that her friend, her rival, her favourite playmate was working in a bar, working to serve drinks to young men and women. How low could a man fall?
She smiled sweetly as men walked passed, looking her up and down, each no doubt wondering how they could get into her, how they could persuade her back to their bed. Some women would be offended, some women would be thrilled, Fayth felt nothing for these men, her appearance was something of a design, a deliberate work of art. She knew what men wanted and she expected such reactions, she was pleasing to the male eye, male gaze worked to her advantage people. Her job would be much much harder without it. The young man approached slowly, his eyes scanning, he'd spotted her she knew, he too would have questions of course. He approached slowly sitting down opposite her, he looked around again. “Your boss will be furious.” She giggled thinking of the first time they had talked, all those years ago at Claridges, when this very man had claimed his boss would be so mad if he sat with her, sat just as he did now.
She couldn't help herself, she sent his eyes wandering, brought a blush to his face and a smile to his lips as she rubbed the soft leather of her lethal boots against his leg. “Ah you have not changed have you baby?”
“What are you doing here Fayth?” His voice was hard, testing, his tone sharp. She smiled and leaned back in her chair.
“I dislike the service here, to whom should one make a complaint?”
“Okay, your point is made.” His just-too-posh-boy accent made her giggle, a man like him was never born to admit defeat, especially not at the hands of a woman. He seemed a little edgy, more so as she slipped her foot higher. “Fayth..”
“Baby, I have a more pressing question, what are you doing here?”
“Working.”
“As a waiter?”
He simply smiled, gave her nothing more. They both knew the reason he was here, he would not give her more, the words would not leave his mouth. She smiled, tapping her delicately painted nails on the table as her toes scraped the crotch of his trousers, he jumped and fidgeted, she stoked more watching as his discomfort grew. She'd get him to talk one way or another, she had time. “Fayth you-”
“Shh.” She leaned forward, her breasts on full display for his pleasure, he took it, quite regrettably. His eyes slipped to her cleavage quite natrually, his mind wandered, his heart raced, he remembered that night in London, remembered when he had told her those words.
I love you...
Oh how he wanted her, wanted to touch that soft skin, that smooth covering for her flesh. He gulped as he felt the warmth in his stomach, the burning warmth travelling south, settling, hardening. He tried hard to hold back the groan, he could not voice his desire; not here, not in front of her. He looked away as she clutched his hand in hers, caressing his fingers so gently. Her soft skin stroking his, sensitive, so sensitive.
Lyndon Kaller had been touched by many women, this lady was the first who could send sparks through his skin, who could have his heart beating as though it might fall from his chest, as though it could break free from its bone prison and touch her. He was sweating already, his eyes closed at their own will. “Fayth, oh-” He was silenced by her lips this time, she moved away too quickly, so quickly his eyes opened and followed her as she walked around the table, behind him, her hands rubbing up and down his chest.
She felt the muscles of a man she had thought about, dreamed about so often, she smelt his aftershave, so sweet it could be roses. Her finger scraped his cheek, rough, enough to make her blush, enough to make her kiss his neck, smell him more. She whispered as she stroked her hand over his cheek, turning his face toward her. “Come, no need for you to desire and not have is there baby?”
“You mean-”
She kissed his lips eating his words before she whispered, her lips still touching his. “Anything you want baby you can have.”
“I'm meant to be-”
“Working? Oh then baby, you'll have been bad, all the more reason for me to punish you.” She bit his lip drawing blood, licking it. They'd gained attention, a hundred eyes cast jealous glances to Lyndon, he smiled and stood, their hands linked as she led the way, out to the toilets she pressed him against the wooden door, kissing him, toying with the handle, her knee between his legs. She felt his trouser with one hand, heard him gasp, felt him gulp and shiver. She smiled, pulling at the front of her dress, slightly exposing one breast, he kissed it she gripped his shoulders and turned, she was now against the door, he pushing her hard against it, pulling at the dress himself; his leg raising it up her thigh.
The man in his dark suit could not have timed it better as he walked around the corner, a look of shock upon his face, he took a moment. Fayth hid the temporary smile and moved quick, tears flooded from her eyes and she pushed Lyndon hard, he stumbled backwards, she stuttered as the big man moved toward her, giving Lyndon an almost horrified look. She stuttered the words. “He was trying to r... trying to r... I cant say it.”
“Madam, was he trying to force you again-”
“Yes... Oh yes he was... I cant even-” she began to sob, the man took her in his arms, she smiled to Lyndon who frowned and quickly got to his feet, only just away as the man released her and turned, seeing the young man flee. He was furious, Billy King never let a guy get away with hurting a lass, not ever. He was chasing that sick blonde bastard in seconds.
Alone once again in that dark bar, she rearranged her dress, confident of course that Lyndon would escape the man. Suit was an amateur, it would be an easy little game to Lyndon, a little bit of fun to her, a reunion as such. It would serve as a strong reminder, she was in charge no matter what he thought. When Fayth Fallen was in town, there was no room for another to play her game. A game she knew Lyndon loved to play.
He'd play it so perfectly, he always did.
As she stepped back into the bar, her shoes clicking, she smiled sweetly and walked fast, a hip swing in her step so every man's eyes would be drawn to her perfectly formed buttocks sealed so sweetly in that tight red dress she took the iPhone from her bra and found the number she desired.
Meet me by the dry dock baby. I'll find you if you dont. xx.
With that she walked faster, stuffing the phone back into her bra, a smile on her face, all eyes on her. Oh, how she hoped someone would try touch her tonight, how she prayed they would follow her. She could really do with some action, some fun tonight.
The bar was dark, she struggled to see him among the crowds, his blonde hair separated him. She had to give it to him, the limp was almost gone now, hardly noticeable to the untrained eye. Fayth Fallen sat at a table drinking soda water quietly, her attentions resting on a man she had not seen for years, a man she had noticed just hours ago, she had followed him here only to find that her friend, her rival, her favourite playmate was working in a bar, working to serve drinks to young men and women. How low could a man fall?
She smiled sweetly as men walked passed, looking her up and down, each no doubt wondering how they could get into her, how they could persuade her back to their bed. Some women would be offended, some women would be thrilled, Fayth felt nothing for these men, her appearance was something of a design, a deliberate work of art. She knew what men wanted and she expected such reactions, she was pleasing to the male eye, male gaze worked to her advantage people. Her job would be much much harder without it. The young man approached slowly, his eyes scanning, he'd spotted her she knew, he too would have questions of course. He approached slowly sitting down opposite her, he looked around again. “Your boss will be furious.” She giggled thinking of the first time they had talked, all those years ago at Claridges, when this very man had claimed his boss would be so mad if he sat with her, sat just as he did now.
She couldn't help herself, she sent his eyes wandering, brought a blush to his face and a smile to his lips as she rubbed the soft leather of her lethal boots against his leg. “Ah you have not changed have you baby?”
“What are you doing here Fayth?” His voice was hard, testing, his tone sharp. She smiled and leaned back in her chair.
“I dislike the service here, to whom should one make a complaint?”
“Okay, your point is made.” His just-too-posh-boy accent made her giggle, a man like him was never born to admit defeat, especially not at the hands of a woman. He seemed a little edgy, more so as she slipped her foot higher. “Fayth..”
“Baby, I have a more pressing question, what are you doing here?”
“Working.”
“As a waiter?”
He simply smiled, gave her nothing more. They both knew the reason he was here, he would not give her more, the words would not leave his mouth. She smiled, tapping her delicately painted nails on the table as her toes scraped the crotch of his trousers, he jumped and fidgeted, she stoked more watching as his discomfort grew. She'd get him to talk one way or another, she had time. “Fayth you-”
“Shh.” She leaned forward, her breasts on full display for his pleasure, he took it, quite regrettably. His eyes slipped to her cleavage quite natrually, his mind wandered, his heart raced, he remembered that night in London, remembered when he had told her those words.
I love you...
Oh how he wanted her, wanted to touch that soft skin, that smooth covering for her flesh. He gulped as he felt the warmth in his stomach, the burning warmth travelling south, settling, hardening. He tried hard to hold back the groan, he could not voice his desire; not here, not in front of her. He looked away as she clutched his hand in hers, caressing his fingers so gently. Her soft skin stroking his, sensitive, so sensitive.
Lyndon Kaller had been touched by many women, this lady was the first who could send sparks through his skin, who could have his heart beating as though it might fall from his chest, as though it could break free from its bone prison and touch her. He was sweating already, his eyes closed at their own will. “Fayth, oh-” He was silenced by her lips this time, she moved away too quickly, so quickly his eyes opened and followed her as she walked around the table, behind him, her hands rubbing up and down his chest.
She felt the muscles of a man she had thought about, dreamed about so often, she smelt his aftershave, so sweet it could be roses. Her finger scraped his cheek, rough, enough to make her blush, enough to make her kiss his neck, smell him more. She whispered as she stroked her hand over his cheek, turning his face toward her. “Come, no need for you to desire and not have is there baby?”
“You mean-”
She kissed his lips eating his words before she whispered, her lips still touching his. “Anything you want baby you can have.”
“I'm meant to be-”
“Working? Oh then baby, you'll have been bad, all the more reason for me to punish you.” She bit his lip drawing blood, licking it. They'd gained attention, a hundred eyes cast jealous glances to Lyndon, he smiled and stood, their hands linked as she led the way, out to the toilets she pressed him against the wooden door, kissing him, toying with the handle, her knee between his legs. She felt his trouser with one hand, heard him gasp, felt him gulp and shiver. She smiled, pulling at the front of her dress, slightly exposing one breast, he kissed it she gripped his shoulders and turned, she was now against the door, he pushing her hard against it, pulling at the dress himself; his leg raising it up her thigh.
The man in his dark suit could not have timed it better as he walked around the corner, a look of shock upon his face, he took a moment. Fayth hid the temporary smile and moved quick, tears flooded from her eyes and she pushed Lyndon hard, he stumbled backwards, she stuttered as the big man moved toward her, giving Lyndon an almost horrified look. She stuttered the words. “He was trying to r... trying to r... I cant say it.”
“Madam, was he trying to force you again-”
“Yes... Oh yes he was... I cant even-” she began to sob, the man took her in his arms, she smiled to Lyndon who frowned and quickly got to his feet, only just away as the man released her and turned, seeing the young man flee. He was furious, Billy King never let a guy get away with hurting a lass, not ever. He was chasing that sick blonde bastard in seconds.
Alone once again in that dark bar, she rearranged her dress, confident of course that Lyndon would escape the man. Suit was an amateur, it would be an easy little game to Lyndon, a little bit of fun to her, a reunion as such. It would serve as a strong reminder, she was in charge no matter what he thought. When Fayth Fallen was in town, there was no room for another to play her game. A game she knew Lyndon loved to play.
He'd play it so perfectly, he always did.
As she stepped back into the bar, her shoes clicking, she smiled sweetly and walked fast, a hip swing in her step so every man's eyes would be drawn to her perfectly formed buttocks sealed so sweetly in that tight red dress she took the iPhone from her bra and found the number she desired.
Meet me by the dry dock baby. I'll find you if you dont. xx.
With that she walked faster, stuffing the phone back into her bra, a smile on her face, all eyes on her. Oh, how she hoped someone would try touch her tonight, how she prayed they would follow her. She could really do with some action, some fun tonight.