Page 68 of The Grand Duel

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Page 68 of The Grand Duel

I had the best sex of my life, and it was with a man I don’t even know.

Was Mr Aldridge even sniffing my cardigan earlier, or am I that sexually frustrated that I’m imagining things?

I think back, his shoulders lifting as he inhaled deeply.

I don’t tell my sister how hot the entire encounter made me feel because I barely want to admit it to myself.

“Cop boy is gone, Jove. I need to forget about him.”

“Have you thought about working the rooms again? See if it’s as good with everyone?”

“I’ll get paid next week. We shouldn’t need the money.”

“I’m sorry, are we working to live or living to work? Stop worrying about me and have some fun.”

“You know I work to live.”

“Then have your fun. What about Christian? He’s the blond you mentioned, isn’t he?”

“Christian is like a baby brother to me.”

She sighs. “I get it. It’s impossible for you. You work at a club that’s crawling with dick, but you can’t find any.”

I chuckle. “You’rea dick.”

“You know what I’d do?”

I roll my eyes. “Humour me.”

“I’d rock up at work tomorrow night, request to work the rooms, pull on that blindfold and imagine Mr Sternface is the face of whoever walks through the door.” She holds up her own screen and shows me a picture of Charles Aldridge, clearly googling him herself now.

“You want me to imagine myself having an affair with my boss whilst having sex with other men?”

“You know it’s a good fantasy. I bet you’ve already imagined it.”

“Good night, Jove. We’re done here.”

“Don’t call until you have something worth telling, whore face.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, bye.”

I hang up and close my laptop, pushing it to the back of the counter. My stare falls on the magnet I have stuck to my fridge door. A little house just like the one we always dreamed to live in. The house with the mummy and daddy.

If there’s anyone who deserves to have her dream home, it’s my little sister. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want a house like that for her.

To have her back in London and close to me.

I’ve just got to convince her to come home first.

I sigh and walk into my bedroom. After nine hours in the office and an even longer day promised tomorrow because of my shift at the club, I feel shattered.

I drop down onto my mattress on the floor, pulling the quilt up over me. My flat is still mostly empty—bar the TV, which has become my new obsession, and the bed I bought but still haven’t put together—but it seems the more time I spend here, the easier it is to be on my own.

I think about Jovie for a while as I try to drift off to sleep, her laugh making my muscles relax into the soft sheets. I think about my night with cop boy all over again, which only sends my heart racing. Although at this point, he doesn’t even seem real to me anymore. And then my head goes someplace else, someplace it hasn’t ever and shouldn’t. An office. Mr Aldridge sat back in his desk chair, his eyes pinned on me like that first day. I roll over on the mattress onto my stomach, my hand dipping into my underwear. His nose was deep in my cardigan, his shoulders bunched.

What was he imagining in that moment?




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