𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐒 two years ago, my life changed forever. All it took was one night to alter the rest of my life. I wasn't sure about a lot of things however, there are two things that I was absolutely certain on: what I wanted to wear and who...
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We stumble through the lobby of the Mandarin Oriental, George's arm loosely around my waist. It's late, not that many people about. We dropped Carter back at the house and then went to mine so I could quickly grab a bag.
"What's our room? Like the number of it?" George laughs, helping me into the lift.
I hand the key card to him, he takes it between his fingers and pulls me into his side with an arm around my neck. We're both very drunk. Well, I think he's a lot drunker than me but this isn't the first time we've done this.
He smells so fucking good and I've never been so sure of anything in my whole life. He's like a middle-of-the-day downpour. Dark skies but the sun still shines through, makes the world look a bit like a bubble. My favourite sort of weather.
By the time the lift opens, he's got his hand under my dress. Thankfully, no one's standing there and we make it to our room with no one seeing us.
"Okay," I push him down on the royal blue satin sofa in the middle of the room. "Stay there."
He runs his hands up my bare thighs, "And if I don't?"
I roll my eyes, shrug off my coat, "then you'll ruin the surprise."
George cocks his head, gives me one of those sexy drunk smiles. "I've never liked surprises much, Haysie."
"I'm sure you'll love this one," I push my hand through his hair, step out from between his legs and close the shutters to the bedroom.
I change out of my dress, put on the Violet set from Fleur Du Mal and then throw on the angel sleeve robe for some modesty. Keeping with the red theme, I slip my heels back on, take my Chanel necklace off and unbox my new Van Cleef necklace and bracelet.
After the past few days, I've felt so degraded as a woman, so disgusted in my own body that really, I need something to make me feel the opposite. And my only cure for that is George's hands all over my body.
I feel myself start to sober up a bit as I take my hair out of the bun and let it fall around my face in waves. Maybe it still is the little bit of alcohol in my system or just the familiarity of the situation but I'm really not nervous at all.
Taking George to Rose's grave made me feel closer to him than I have in years. I don't regret keeping him at bay when he first got released but we definitely did need that—he needed that.
Back on the sofa, George is sitting there in just a plain fitted Tom Ford T-shirt and his black slacks—both his jacket and coat are hung on the back of the door. He's nursing a glass of water as I wrap my arms around his neck from the back, my hands travelling under the collar of his top and pulling out whatever chain he's got on.
