Chapter 24

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A/n: I'm sorry it's been so long since my last update!! Tbh I've had a lot of self doubt worried the story wouldn't turn out great or I'd let someone down, Buuut it's still in my damn head and won't leave me alone so it's definitely gonna be finished. Anyway here's some smut, I hope you enjoy 🫶 xoxo

I hesitate at the door to Tommy's house, wondering if I ought to knock

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I hesitate at the door to Tommy's house, wondering if I ought to knock. He didn't even tell anyone I was here last time. Maybe he doesn't want his family knowing about this.

Maybe I'm out of my mind for even being here.

But it makes sense. He was right. There's no use in forking out thirty pounds a night for a hotel room, or relocating halfway down the country. And now, I need to be in Birmingham to begin business with Alfie.

As strange as it seems, staying with Tommy Shelby is the most sensible choice.

And for God's sake, I'll simply have to control myself around him. He's only a man. And I'm not so depraved that I lose all shreds of dignity in his presence.

Well. I won't be any more, at least. We'll be friends.

My fist's raised in the air, still hesitating, when a shadow moves behind the door. Tommy pulls it open, gaze imperceptible as he looks at me.

All my thoughts go silent. Somehow, he looks even finer than usual, the muscles of his shoulders visible through the thin fabric of his shirt.

I take a dizzying breath, realising how delusional I've become. We're not going to be friends.

"My office," he says. "Now."

I freeze like prey caught in a trap. My eyes flicker through to the house behind him, where I can hear subdued voices. Maybe if I call out a greeting to John or Arthur they'll hear me, they'll come and save me from Tommy's wrath...

"Don't even think about it," he warns me quietly.

My legs tremble as I follow him through the hallway. I can do this, I tell myself. He's only a man. He's only a man...

The scent of his cologne hits like a freight train as he pushes me into a room, closing the door. There's a large desk stacked with neat and orderly sheets of paper, leather chairs, a decanter of whiskey. Everything's deep wood, pragmatic and functional. I count no less than three ashtrays dotted throughout the room. If I wasn't already facing Tommy's wrath, I might roll my eyes at the observation.

"Where were you?" Tommy asks, voice emotionless.

I swallow my nerves. "Working."

His eyebrows raise an inch. "If you've gone and gotten a job in a stable in fucking Gloucester—"

"No, I haven't," I say, inklings of courage creeping back into my voice. "But as I said before, I'm not going to rely on you for money. If you truly want me to stay here, I'll pay you board. And I still need to repay you for the dentist."

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