The Architect Read online

  Paranoid that I look either lost or suspicious, I take out my phone and pretend to be doing something, while I search the tall buildings. The place is worryingly quiet, given it’s in the middle of the city. Uneasy about being here alone, I walk towards the end of the street, where I can see a purple neon light reflected in a glass office building. As I click over in my black heels the reflection becomes clearer, and I see the name Fantasia back to front. Okay, this is it. Just keep walking. Don’t loiter; walk in with purpose and no one will bother you.

  Pushing open the glass door, I step into a dark corridor and hear muffled music. Reaching the end of the walkway, I see two women dressed in long leather dresses. They have short black spiky hair, and are talking to who must be the receptionist. I stand behind them and wait.

  The woman on the left of the duo turns, gives me the once over, and smiles. “Here for the dungeons?”

  I swallow hard. “No. I-I’m just here to watch.” As soon as I finish the sentence I know how it must have sounded and cringe inside.

  “Really? Well, we’ll be there if you fancy it.” The woman winks, and her friend turns around and smiles at me. Then they both thank the guy behind the desk and head through the black swing doors to the left.

  “Can I help?” the guy asks, as I stand here gobsmacked at the proposition, and trying to sneak a peek of what’s behind the dark doors.

  Stepping forward, I place my hands on the cream counter. “Yes. Umm...” I bite my lip, not knowing what to say. “It’s my first time here, and I’m not sure what I’m meant to do, really.”

  He smiles and lifts his pierced eyebrows at me. “That’s fine, I’ll talk you through it. But first you will need to become a member. So can I have your name, please?”

  “Yes, it’s Ruth.”

  “And your surname?”

  Grudgingly I tell him, “Watson.”

  He requests my phone number, which I make up, and then my address, which I also make up. My email and age I give truthfully.

  “There we are.” He clicks the computer mouse. “All done.”

  I feel a little guilty that I’ve just deceived him, but I reply with a chirpy thank you so he won’t suspect.

  “Oh.” He looks curiously at his screen. “It says here you have already paid.”

  I beam after a few seconds. “It must have been the man I’m meeting here.”

  He rubs his chin. “Ah yes, I remember. Tall guy, well-spoken?”

  The area between my legs warms. “That’s him.”

  “Okay.” He pulls out a leaflet and turns it to favour me. “All areas are open to everybody.” He points to them on the flier before continuing. “There is only one real rule, and that is, no means no.”

  I nod. “Got it.”

  “Now,” he pushes the leaflet towards me, “that’s yours. We do offer a walk around with a member of staff for first-time visitors.” He pauses and lifts his head to greet a person in the queue that has formed behind me, before returning his attention to me. “Would you like one?”

  Dying to get inside and find Heath, I decline politely.

  “Well, in that case,” he gestures to the forbidden doors, “have fun.”

  I slowly saunter over, trying to get my head together before setting foot into the unknown.

  Almost falling into the room after wrongly calculating the weight of the door, I brush off my stumble and pray that nobody saw me.

  Wow. I’m in. The doors lead straight onto the carpeted floor that runs the perimeter of the dance floor. I glance around and investigate the large room. There is a good amount of people around; at a guess I would say fifty, maybe sixty.

  Scanning for the bar, that I discover is inconveniently positioned on the other side of the room, I notice that most of the men are dressed as you would expect them to be in a club, in shirts and suits, but there are a few I have spotted in fancy dress. I’ve seen two policemen and one fireman.

  Making my way to the bar, I check out how the women are dressed. There are several in leather catsuits, and latex dresses. Some have hardly anything on, just a boob tube and a miniskirt. But the majority are dressed like me, in dresses, and safe clothing.

  Reaching the bar, I wait my turn with fingers mentally crossed that Heath has spotted me from his hiding place. As I lean against the counter and wait to be served, I inspect the place further.

  Directly opposite the bar across the dance floor there is a stage with a red theatre curtain dressing it, and in the centre of the high platform is a DJ. To the right side of the stage I spot the orgy door. The dead giveaway is the sign above it with the words ‘Let Loose’ and a silhouette of a couple in the doggy style position. How tasteful.

  Finally, a blonde barmaid heads my way. “What can I get you?” she calls over the music.

  I’m about to say a Cognac with no ice, until I tell myself to live on the edge a little and try something different. “Surprise me,” I holler back.

  She grins. “Okay, if you want.”

  Waiting for my mysterious drink, I take out a ten pound note ready for the waitress and glance around for Heath again. I examine each person, only to become quite uncomfortable as my gaze reaches the far corner of the room and I witness two women dancing dirty with their tits out. Swiftly snapping my gaze back to the bar in embarrassment, I’m presented with a shot glass.

  “Here you are.” The blonde smiles.

  “What is it?” I ask, fighting with the music and inspecting the odd-coloured drink.

  “It’s a Slippery Nipple.” A masculine voice says from behind. The blonde’s smile vanishes, and I turn to see a mature salt-and-pepper-haired man grinning at me.

  “And what’s in a Slippery Nipple?” I laugh to the tender as I place the tiny glass back on the bar and hand her the cash.

  “Sambuca and Baileys,” she snaps, before giving the man a glare and wandering over to the till to retrieve my change.

  “She’s an odd one,” Salt-and-Pepper states as he stands in front of me.

  I give him a raise of the eyebrows and a slight smile.

  “George. George Randall,” he says, holding his hand out.

  Not wanting to come across as rude, I introduce myself as well. “Ruth Watson.”

  He takes my hand, lifts it to his lips and kisses it. “Charmed.”

  Jesus, he loves himself, doesn’t he? Who does he think he is, smacking his dirty lips against my clean skin? He’s quite handsome though, for an older man. He’s got to be at least forty-five. His hair is short and stylish, would once have been jet black all over I suspect, but time has taken its toll around the ears, and white hairs have taken the place of his youthful dark ones. The skin around his eyes has aged, and smile lines mark his face, even as he stands there with a straight expression. He’s very broad and well-proportioned in his silver suit and gunmetal blue shirt, and I suspect that in his younger days he would have been quite a catch.

  “Your first time here, isn’t it?” he questions as he gives my hand back and places his cocktail glass on the bar.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact it is. Is it that obvious?”

  He laughs. “No.”

  The barmaid hands me my change and swiftly moves away before I have a chance to thank her.

  Turning back to George after putting my cash away, I frown. “Then why did you ask? Is it your first time?”

  “No,” he replies, before telling a member of staff behind the bar to straighten his tie. “I just haven’t seen you here before.”

  Appalled that he could be so rude and direct to the poor boy, I scowl. “That wasn’t very nice.”

  His forehead wrinkles. “What wasn’t?”

  “Telling that young man to straighten his tie so loudly.”

  His face looks amused. “Well, why shouldn’t I? I’m the one who pays
his wages.”

  Not in the mood to boost his ego, I ignore his claim, and hope he gets the message as I proceed to scan the room over his shoulder for Heath.

  I finally spot him. The bastard! He’s standing with some tart who’s got her hands all over him. My heart races as I double check and make sure I’m not seeing things. It is him. My heart aches as it pumps jealousy through my veins and heats my muscles. I knock back my drink and try to calm myself, but I can’t, and the alcohol only fills me with spite and rage as it hits my bloodstream. Two can play at this game.

  Chapter Eleven

  “So, you’re the owner, are you?” I bat my lashes and move in closer to George.

  “That I am, my darling.” He looks down at me and slides his arm, snake-like, around my waist.

  I twirl his tie. “I guess that means you’re a little kinky then, huh?”

  He smiles and bares his perfectly straight, gleaming teeth. “That’s an understatement.”

  I smile and he pulls me closer. I glance over his shoulder to where Heath was, but he’s gone, and so has the woman that was all over him.

  “Mr Randall?” A female voice from behind him calls.

  He turns his head and asks her what she wants, at the same time as pulling me even closer and sticking his hard-on against my pelvis.

  “You’re needed on the phone.”

  “Take a message,” he barks.

  The lady comes closer and whispers in his ear.

  His expression drops, along with his erection. “Ah, okay, I’ll take it in the office, Marie.”

  He apologises, and tells me to wait right here because he will be right back. I watch him walk away. Suddenly a hand rests on my shoulder. I know who it is; I know that touch. I swing around and meet his eyes with a black look.

  “What are you doing with that old fool?” His eyes are sharp and cold.

  I mirror his demeanour. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  He looks clueless. “What are you on about?”

  “Don’t give me that crap! I saw you with that old tart in the red dress, she practically had her tongue down your throat,” I yell, not caring if anyone overhears.

  He grabs my arm and pulls me nearer to him. His aroma fills my head. I so desperately want to slap and kiss him all at the same time, but I wriggle away. “Get off me!”

  “Are you frigging nuts, woman? It’s your fault!”

  “My fault?” I laugh sarcastically. “Oh yeah, that’s right, I told you to cop off with her, didn’t I? Just leave me alone, please.” I turn my back to him.

  Confronting me head on, he continues. “Not a chance, until you tell me why you told me you would be in red, and then turn up in fucking black.”

  I frown. “What?”

  “Why did you tell me you would be in red, with your hair up, and to come and find you, and then turn up in completely the opposite?”

  Red dress, hair up. That’s what Liz said. I’m confused.

  My voice becomes less aggressive. “When did I say that?”

  “Are you having me on?” He starts to walk away before shouting back at me, “Check your phone.”

  Snatching my phone from my clutch I check through it. Shit! Liz texted him, masquerading as me. What? When?

  When I hid my mobile at work, that’s when. I grab my belongings and follow Heath, breezing across the dance floor and through Reception until I catch him up outside the club.

  I pant. “I’m sorry, let me explain. Please.”

  He leans against the wall and lights his cigarette, taking a long drag and gesturing with his hand to go on. I explain what happened, and what the mix-up was, and that tomorrow morning I am going to kill Liz.

  He laughs and smoke bursts from his mouth.

  I relax and take him in for the first time tonight.

  He’s modelling a stylish plain black suit with shiny black shoes. A black tie hangs perfectly central against his white shirt. His hair is, as usual, shaggy yet neat, and his eyes have changed from darkness to a starry night.

  “I wasn’t trying it on with that woman, you know. I thought she was you so I-”

  I cut him off. “Oh charming, you thought I was some old woman?”

  He looks at me sideways. “No. From the back she looked like you, slim, dark hair and in a red dress.”

  “Well, that wasn’t me. And, like I’ve already said, that doesn’t explain why she was all over you.”

  He chuckles. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”

  I remain silent and stare him out until he puts me out of my misery.

  “When I thought it was you I grabbed her waist, but when she turned around and I saw it wasn’t you, I apologised and well... She just got a bit friendly, that’s all.”

  My expression must have darkened, because Heath pulls me close and reassures me. “I was just trying to make an excuse to get away and not be rude.”

  The unattractive emotion starts to drain away as he holds me close and kisses my head.

  “Are we all right now?” he questions, clearly concerned.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He kisses me again. “Do you want to go back in?”

  I do want to, but I’m a bit worried about bumping into the lecherous owner again, so I tell Heath I’d rather not.

  Taking my arm, he leads me away from the club. “What would you like to do, then?”

  “I’m not sure, really. I don’t know what’s around this end of town.”

  “Okay, let’s head back to my car and have a cruise around. See if anywhere tickles your fancy.” He grins.

  My lips curve. “Sounds like a plan.”

  How can he do this to me? Two minutes ago I was furious with him and didn’t want him anywhere near me. Now I’m besotted and never want to leave his side. When I’m with him it just feels so right. I forget about life and all the horrid memories that haunt me. It’s as though he is slowly mending me or something. Taking away the bad and replacing it with him.

  We walk through a couple of alleyways and down a road until we reach the car park where his Audi is waiting.

  We hit the road in search for something that takes my fancy.

  “Your car is so smooth,” I say.

  He waits for a junction to clear before shifting to first gear. “Yeah, it’s quite a nice car to drive.” He pauses for a few seconds. “Do you want a go?”

  “At driving?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh no, I’d scratch it or something. It’s much bigger than my little car.”

  “No you won’t, you’ll be fine,” he says as the car bumps slowly up the curb.

  “Seriously?”

  He doesn’t answer, just unbuckles his seat belt and gets out.

  Oh my God, he is serious. Well, if he insists.

  I exit the vehicle and walk to meet him at the boot of the car. “Now, promise you won’t tell me off if I scratch it.”

  “I can’t make promises like that.” He winks.

  “Why?”

  “Because if you do scratch it, I’ll be making sure you know you’ve been a naughty girl.”

  We both walk to opposite doors and I call over the roof, “Oh, I see.”

  Bringing the seat forward and altering the mirrors, I then pull off with such speed that I leave half the rubber from the tyres on the road.

  My word, this car is fast. If I’d applied the same pressure as I just did on the accelerator in my car I would have pulled off slowly. But not this beast; this sexy hunk of metal practically roars at the slightest touch of a foot.

  “Okay, bad girl, easy on the gas,” he chuckles as he jokingly grips the door handle.

  I swerve purposely. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control.”

  Getting u
sed to the pressures of the pedals, I tour the roads as we both search for an inviting venue. I can see him watching me and grinning in my peripheral vision.

  “What?” I smile.

  His hand touches my thigh as I tense my leg on the clutch to change gear.

  “Nothing. I just like watching you concentrate.”

  I smile, but keep my eyes on the road ahead.

  Suddenly, Heath rubs my leg a few times, before slipping his hand up my dress and stopping at my underwear.

  I gasp as he touches my clit through the material. “What are you doing, you bad man? You’ll make me crash!”

  He curls his finger inside my knickers. “At least we’ll die happy.”

  Reaching out, I squeeze his cock through the expensive fabric of his trousers before clumsily searching for his buttons and zip in between changing gear. Eventually releasing his erection from its enclosure, I take it in my hand and grip it firmly as I begin to toss him off, praying I won’t have to stop or change gear for a while.

  His finger stops circling my clit and slips down to my hole, where he prods and probes at it until he finally buries his whole finger inside me. His touch causes my juices to flow and heat up for orgasm.

  I spin the car around at the first chance I get and head back to a part of town that I know, where there is a dark car park. The entire journey there he has me on the edge of climax, and I too, in between changing gear, try to keep him on the edge with my vigorous hand movements and breathy moans of pleasure.

  I steer the car onto the gravel, and hear the dust settle on the car as we undo our seatbelts and tumble to the backseat. Heath’s hand searches, and pulls my thong to one side while the other’s in his jacket pocket. Pulling out a blue foil packet, he rips it open and rolls the protection onto his long, rough and ready cock. Then he settles into the middle of the back seat and guides me onto his lap, and down his shaft.

  Feelings of joy and warmth penetrate my body, and I rock back and forth on him as he grips my waist and lifts me up until only the head of his cock is inside me. Holding me in the air with his strong arms, he bucks and thrusts speedily away at my body, and every now and then hits me so deep it’s almost painful.