Page 30 of Pretty Mess

I consider that and then slowly shake my head. “No, I don’t, and you’re right. That ideawasmessing with my head. But then I remember that I gave far more away sexually at a back room in a pub last week for free.”

“Best not to mention that at the club.” He grins at me. “It’s actually quite nice to talk to you about it. Usually, I just come home and have only myself for company.” It sounds lonely, and he looks suddenly vulnerable.

I settle cross-legged on the bed. “Well, I’m here now.”

He removes his jacket, folds it neatly on his lap, and then shoots me an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I didn’t call last night, but the new bloke was rather demanding.”

I stiffen. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, of course not.” I relax, and a funny expression crosses his face. “Wait. Were youworried?”

“Of course I was. You don’t know him.”

“No, but Fox does.”

“Fox seems like an interesting man, but he can’t know everything, Julian.”

“He does,” he says simply, his confidence unmistakable. “He may give off this image of being louche?—”

“What’s that?”

He waves a hand. “Careless and only wanting pleasure in life. Fox isverypowerful. He knows a great deal. He’s got something on everyone who’s anyone. He has a lot of leverage.”

I shake my head. “That’s good, because if the police find out what he’s doing, he’ll go to prison.”

“Pah. Some of the police bigwigs use the club. He’s fine.”

I suppose it isn’t all that surprising when you think about it. Rich people don’t seem to have the same laws applied to them as us, and the police are notoriously screwed up at the top levels.

He leans forward. “And you don’t have to worry about this leaking and affecting your career.”

I jerk in shock. “Fucking hell. That never even occurred to me.” Now he’s mentioned it, panic begins to swirl in my belly. “But what if one of these men is a client when I get a job and?—”

“It’sfine,” he says firmly, and I relax a little at the conviction in his voice. “I told you. Fox is very powerful. They know not to cross him, and telling anyone about the club and what goes on there is the surest way of doing it. His revenge wouldn’t be pleasant.” We stare at each other for a few beats, and then he sits back, crossing his legs and flicking a bit of lint from his trousers. “So, who did you get in the end?”

“Oh, Cormac Reilly.”

His head snaps up. “What?”

I hesitate. “Do you not know him? He was at the poker table last night and?—”

“Of course I know him. Everyone knows Cormac.”

Cormac’s face, which has never been far from my mind all morning, fills my head again. This time it’s the memory of when he came. He’d looked stripped bare and almost agonised with the pleasure.

I cough and shift slightly. “What does that mean?”

“Sorry, that was badly phrased. It’s just that he’s a regular at these events. Well, he is now. I remember him attending his first one last year and there was quite a stir amongst the boys because he’s so good-looking. He didn’t come again for ages though, and I thought we’d scared him off. Then he popped up a few months ago and he’s been a regular ever since.”

“He certainly seemed at home at the club.”

“But he’s never gone for a new boy before.” There’s a degree of surprise in his voice.

“Really?” I pause. “What does that actually mean?” I ask again.

His clever eyes are busy with thought. “He doesn’t like the newbies. He prefers his men to have a lot of experience. He’s not looking for a long-term contract with them either—he fucks them and moves on to the next.” His gaze turns curious. “What was he like?”

I rub my nose, feeling the heat on my cheeks. “I told you. It was good.”