The Story Of Us - Jones Lesley (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации сокращений txt) 📗

“Sure is,” he says with a smile.

He swirls his drink over the ice in his glass and says, “Well Georgia, you dragged me here, are you going to talk to me or what?”

I smile inwardly at his cheek but again say anything; I don’t want him to know I’m amused. “What would you like to know, Cam?”

He raises his eyebrows, obviously surprised that I know his name. “I’d like to know about you Georgia. Where were you born? Where did you grow up? How long have you been manager of the shop over the road?”

I correct him. “I’m not the manager of the shop over the road.”

“Oh sorry, I just thought the way you spoke to the girls, you were their boss.”

“I am.” I reply. “I own the business that owns the shop, over the road.”

He leans back on his stool, studies me for a moment and then knocks back all of his drink and puts it down a little too hard on the ledge. What’s his problem I wonder?

“I thought Frankie Layton’s Misses owned that place.” How does he know that?

“She does, I’m her business partner.” His frown disappears. What! Did he seriously think that I was married to Frank, to my Dad? “And I’m her daughter.”

His mouth actually drops open, oh fuck, this news does not please him. “You’re Frank’s daughter?”

“I am.” He sighs deeply and runs his big hands through his hair.

“Oh fuck,” he almost whispers as he once again shakes his head.

“Is that a problem?”

“Drink your drink Georgia, I have work to do.” He pulls the bits of paper out of his pocket and starts looking through them again, totally ignoring me.

Instant rage takes over; I stand from my stool and throw my drink in his face. “Fuck you!” I say, turn and walk out of the bar.

I don’t know what happens to me that night, I lost my grip on my own self-worth, I assumed. Cam didn’t want to know because of some piece of gossip he’d read in a Sunday tabloid, regarding me and Sean. There’d been a few spiteful stories about underage sex, drink and drugs, all involving me, once again. Sean and that band had interfered with my life and I was so sick of it. I went out on Saturday night and celebrated my birthday by snorting a couple of lines of coke, popping one ecstasy tablet and going back to the flat of a bloke named Tom in Lewisham and fucking his brains out, it was awful but he loved it. When the cab pulled up outside at ten on that Sunday morning, he was begging me to stay and he was begging for my number, so I gave it to him, I saw him five times over the next two weeks and on the fifth date, he told me he loved me, so I ended it. I absolutely loved the power I felt, so much so that for the next six months, this behaviour became a habit; I would be off my face Thursday till Sunday, meet a bloke, spend a couple of weeks giving them the best sex they’d ever had, doing everything I possibly could to get them to say those three little words and as soon as they did, bang, I dropped them like a sack of shit. The other thing I liked to do was to take my dates to Kings, the wine bar Cam owned, I always waited until I knew for sure that I had them by the balls, that way they would always be all over me and I always made sure that I sat or stood right in full view of Cam.

I had only met this bloke Lee, the Saturday before but he was already making me feel sick with the way he kept telling me how beautiful I was. I must’ve been getting better at this gig; he was the third bloke I’d bought into Kings in three weeks.

Cam was always polite to me, always said hello and always asked how I was, my response was always the same. “Fuck you!”

But it didn’t put him off; week after week he would watch me walk in with my latest conquest with a certain kind of sadness in his eyes. I stood at the bar with Lee waiting to be served, when I noticed Cam come out of his office, he saw me straight away and walked toward me. “Georgia, how are ya?”

I turned away but Lee had heard him, he looked from me to Cam and said, “Fuck off mate, she’s with me.”

Cam totally ignored him. “Georgia, how are ya?” he repeated.

Lee had just been served and had our drinks in his hands, he put them down on the bar, turned to Cam and said, “Look mate, do yourself a favour, this one’s taken, she’s with me so fuck off.”

I know it was a horrible thing to do but at this stage of my life I was a horrible person so I looked at Lee, then turned to Cam and wrapped my arms around his neck and said, “I’m good Cam, how are you babe?”

Lee pulled me back by my shoulder so hard, that I spun around and was facing the bar, I didn’t really see what happened next, I assume one of them threw a punch. I heard glass breaking and people seemed to move in all directions, I turned back to see two of the bouncers grab Lee by his arms and start walking him toward the door.

“Georgia!” he called out to me.

“Fuck off Lee, we’re done.” I called back. Next thing I knew, Cam had a hold of my hand and was pulling me toward his office. I tried to dig my heels in and stiffen my legs but he was too strong, so I tried to yank my hand from his grip.

“Get off me!” I screamed but he just gripped tighter and pulled me harder, almost throwing me inside his office.

He slammed the door and locked it behind us. “What the fuck are doing? You fucking idiot.”

He actually scares me when I look at him, he looks so fucking angry; he stalks over to the his desk and pours almost half a tumbler of JD from a bottle, he stands still for a few seconds, breathing heavily, his eyes narrowed and fixed on me, he puts the glass to his lips and drinks the whole lot. Shit I think, that’s got to burn. “What I’m doing Georgia, is trying to keep both you and me the fuck out of trouble.”

“Well thanks and all that but I can look after myself.” He lets out a little laugh and does his usual head shake.

“Why, tell me why kitten, every other week, you waltz in here with a different little play thing in tow, licking your boots and panting all around you. Why, why do you do it? Are you trying to piss me off, or are you trying to prove something to yourself?”

“Like I told you before, what I do has fuck all to do with you and why would me coming in here with a bloke piss you off anyway? You don’t give a shit, you made that clear the night you dragged me over here for a drink with you, then totally ignored me when you found out who I was so don’t fucking start with me about trying to piss you off.”

I keep my back to the door of the office but reach behind me and turn the handle, it’s locked and he must have the key, I lose my temper completely, grab the handle with both hands, turn it, pull it and kick the door.

“Open the fucking door!” I scream. I feel his hand on my shoulder; he pulls me around and kisses me hard on the mouth. I grab his hair and pull it as hard as I can, despite the force of his kiss. His lips are soft and warm, he tastes of whiskey or bourbon or whatever the shit is that he drinks and he smells delicious; I’ve had months of mindless, faceless sex and not one single orgasm but right now, I feel like I could come at any minute, just from his kiss. I bite down gently on his bottom lip and he moans into my mouth and my legs almost give way; his big hands run down either side of my body, his thumbs brush over my boobs as he drags them down from my armpits to my waist, he splays them over my hips, then over my arse cheeks as he pulls me into him and grinds.

“Fuck,” he moans into my mouth. I’ve been at a business lunch with my Mum today and am still wearing my work clothes, a Chanel skirt and jacket with a shell blouse underneath but it’s what I have on under my skirt that has got his attention now; his fingers are stroking the outside of my thigh, reaching under the hem of my skirt and I’m just waiting for it, in three, two, one.

“Fuckin hell kitten, you’re wearing stockings?”

I smile at myself, what is it with men and stockings? “I sure am Tiger, what of it?”