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Signed, Sealed, Baby: Chapter 2


“Yeah, I know,” I listened intently as Harriet chattered into my ear about her upcoming wedding.

“And we’ve still got the wedding suits to get, I have my final dress fitting and I need you and Marley to have your bridesmaid dress fitting too.”

“Harriet,” I smirk as I listen to her voice getting quicker as the panic creeps in.

“Everything is going to be fine, I am here to help you. We’ve got a while until then, nothing drastic is going to change. We have plenty of time.”

I heard her inhale deeply.

“I know, I just get so worked up,” she admitted as I heard her clattering around in her kitchen.

Harriet and her fiancé met at work, it was all very quick and sudden, but they loved each other very much and that was the most important thing, right?

Mark works in the stock market and earns a pretty penny. They live in the city of London in a beautiful penthouse overlooking the skyline. She’s on the top of the world, and me? I am at the fucking bottom. But one thing with being at the bottom, is that you can only go up, right?

I felt my phone vibrate, pulling my phone from my ear I saw a name pop up.

Damn it.

“Harriet, babe,” I interrupted her chatter, “I’ve got to go, I’ve got work.” I rush out not wanting to miss my opportunity.

“Ooo okay, what one is it? Big and burly or Mr Talker?” she giggled.

“Talker; bye!” I cut the phone off, laughing before opening the message that came through.

I know it’s late, but I need to see you.

I’ll pay double.

Smiling, I tap back a reply.

Not a problem, any requests?

I watched as the three dots popped up.

No. Just you. As you are. Be there in ten.

Rushing into my bedroom, I ran the brush through my hair and gave my lashes a flick of mascara. I didn’t ever have to dress up for him, he wasn’t demanding like some of the guys I worked with.

I didn’t like my job; I didn’t like most of my clients.

But this client? He was wonderful.

Slipping my feet into my trainers, I was wearing jeans and a jumper. Nothing fancy, but comfortable. Our meeting spot was literally ten minutes in a taxi. He will probably be there before me, but he would wait and still pay me for the full time.

My taxi was kerbside within minutes, hopping in I gave him the address and headed for my destination.

I don’t know what it was about this man, but he gave me butterflies. Of course, he was handsome and delicious. He had a Henry Cavill look about him, but he was so much prettier than Cavill.

He was broad shouldered and chiselled like a Greek god.

He is a walking orgasm. A sex god on legs.

Not that I know what that feels like with him, he literally pays me to talk. I’m like a therapist.

To be honest, a therapist would be a lot cheaper.

Paying for my taxi, I got out and headed into the back of the club that was in the basement of The Sauvage Hotel.

We always met here. I never went to his. He never came to mine.

We could meet at my boss’ office, he has a stunning glass wrap around penthouse in the city, but he never wants to meet there either.

I stilled, knocking four times, keeping it consistent on the metal door so he knew it was me.

He swung the door open, and there he was.

Suited and booted, his white shirt open at the collar, his brown hair swept to the side. His dark brown eyes glistened as they looked down at me, mentally undressing me, his eyes devoured every inch of me. My skin burned with a blush.

He was taller than me, but it wasn’t hard.

I was five foot three, he was a clear six foot six.

“Sky,” he smiled as he stepped back, letting me walk into the warm office.

“Pres,” I smile back as the metal door clunks shut behind me.

I looked around his office, deep cherry mahogany wood panelled the large room, which made it look so much smaller, where in fact, it was a huge space. A dark, brown leather chair tucked behind the large, oak desk that sat in the middle of the office. Glass shelves were stacked with crystal decanters of amber liquids which were all full, my mouth watering slightly.

“Drink?” he smirked as he saw me eyeing up the decanters.

“Of course,” I smiled sitting on the cherry red chesterfield that sat over the other side of the office.



The smells that filled my nostrils were a mix of musk, wood polish and bourbon. It has since become a favourite of mine because it reminds me of him. It reminds me of home.

Preston walked towards me and handed me the small crystal tumbler that was filled with his expensive bourbon.

I thanked him as I took the glass from him, bringing it to my lips. I only drunk it with Preston. To be honest, I only do a lot of things with Preston.

He has been a client of mine for about a year now, and not once has he tried to put his hands on me. But then thinking about it, I’m not sure if I should see that as a good thing or a bad thing. I know he has other escorts in his little black book, and I can’t see him wanting to talk to me and the others as well.

But it’s fine.

I enjoy the quality time with him.

We’re work colleagues.


He sat down next to me with a heavy sigh, in one hand he held on tightly to his crystal tumbler and the thumb on his other hand rubbed across the band of his signet ring.

Just seeing that reminded me of just how powerful this man was.

“So, what was this urgent meeting for?” I smiled as I took a mouthful, leaning against him and nudging into him.

I heard him scoff a laugh as he nudged me back. He stilled for a moment before turning to face me. He looked so relaxed and carefree sitting here, his eyes softening as they focused on mine.

He sighed, his head dropping to look at the amber liquid in the bottom of his glass.

“Pres?” I said softly as I placed my glass on the floor by my feet, scooting closer to him. Placing my finger under his chin, I lifted his head up so he had to look at me. I could see the rage in his eyes, they were glistening with angry tears.

“Preston?” I whispered. I had never seen him like this, and now he was worrying me. “What’s happened?”

His eyes burned into mine and I swear I felt his rage seep into me. My heart drummed against my rib cage.

“My father,” he spat out the words as if they were venomous on his tongue. I didn’t know his father and by the stories that Preston had told me, I didn’t want too.

I stayed quiet, not wanting to push him. I had learned a lot about Preston since I began working for him, and one thing I was certain on was you never pushed him into anything. There have been times where we have sat in complete silence for hours, all because he wasn’t ready to tell me.

That was fine. It’s how he worked. And I would never, ever push him into anything.

“He’s made me an unreasonable and unrealistic fucking deal,” he growled, his large hand pushing through his mop of thick, brown hair.

He swallowed his drink in one mouthful before pushing off the sofa and walking back over to the decanter that sat on the shelf.

I kept my eyes pinned to his ripped, broad back as I swirled my own glass of amber in small, circular movements.

Once his glass was filled, he padded back over to me, collapsing into the chesterfield with a heavy sigh.

I took a mouthful of drink, my eyes steady as I watched him, waiting for him to tell me. Another deep sigh leaves him.

“I have till my thirty-fifth birthday to have a woman pregnant with my child, otherwise all ties between me and the company are gone.” His voice was so dull and flat, no emotion was evident at all.


He nodded.

“Oh, indeed.” He agreed with me.

The silence fell between us again, but it wasn’t awkward. I just didn’t know what to say back to him.

I sighed, swallowing the last of my drink. I stood, walking to the decanter and grabbing it by the neck. I looked over my shoulder at him, his brown eyes ablaze as they roamed over my body.

“Do you want more?” I asked.

He shook his head from side to side.

Pouring my own glass out before placing the bottle back on the shelf, I strutted over to him.

“What you going to do?” I finally asked the question that was burning my tongue.

“What can I do?” he half laughed; half scoffed. “I am going to have to find a suitable woman.” He shook his head from side to side as if he was having an inner argument with himself.

“I’m sure your father will have a lovely, long line of eligible women that would jump at the chance to carry your baby,” I smirked, nudging into him.

“Ha,” he sat back, his legs parted, his long finger tapping on the side of the crystal tumbler. “He may well have a lovely, long list of eligible women, but I don’t want any of them.” His eyes fell to his lap.

There it was again.

That comfortable silence.

I took a big mouthful, coating my dry mouth with the burning amber that glided down my throat like pure silk.

“It’s such a turn on watching you drink my favourite drink,” he smirks, his eyes meeting mine.

I blushed.

“It’s just a drink,” I shrugged, not wanting to give off any of the other vibes I was feeling inside. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him, I mean, have you seen him? He is divine. Everything about him is delicious.

But he was my client.

He didn’t want that sort of work relationship with me, he wanted me as a friendly ear and nothing more.

Did I wish he was one of my clients like that? Absolutely.

I would love to be in his arms, feeling what these other girls get to feel. To have him love me, even if it was just for an hour or two. To be made to feel like the only girl in the world.

But, alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

He wanted me as a friend.

He paid me to listen and give him advice. Not that I was knowledgeable, but it was nice being needed for something other than sex.

His eyes were still on me, the pull was magnetic, and I found it hard to ignore. I gave into him, my wide doe eyes finding his.

“How are you going to find someone?” my voice was quiet.

“I don’t know…” his voice trailed off as he took a mouthful. “But I’ll make it my mission to find someone, I can’t lose the company. I have worked so hard, sacrificed my teenage years putting in the hours under my father and grandfather. I sacrificed relationships, friendships, everything.” He sighed. “I am not about to give it all up now because of some shitty clause in the family contract.” His voice was rumbling, it vibrated through me. I could feel his anger pumping in my veins as if his anger was seeping into me, I felt his anger as if it was my own.

“I get that,” I whispered. I did, I felt his rage and his sadness. It must be heart-breaking knowing that you have worked so hard for something, only to have it ripped from your grasp.

He stood, knocking the remainder of his drink back before walking over to the desk and slamming it down on the surface. I didn’t jump. Just kept my eyes pinned to him. He smiled at me, striding towards me and holding his hand out for me to take.

“Come, let me get you home. I have already taken so much of your evening with my wallowing.”

I smiled back up at him, finishing my own drink and taking his hand. I felt the familiar bolt that shot through me, coursing through to my core before exploding and causing my skin to erupt into goosebumps.

Placing my glass on the desk as he led me out the basement of the hotel, he gripped my small hand tightly.

His driver was waiting outside in a blacked-out range rover. Opening the door, I climbed in followed by Preston. Once the door was shut, he placed one of his hands in-between my legs, giving my thigh a reassuring squeeze.

His other hand was on his phone, scrolling aimlessly through what looked like a shit load of emails.

The car drive was quiet and not long enough. The driver pulled up outside my apartment block, and I noticed the distaste and disgust apparent on Preston’s face.

“This is me,” a weak smile played across my lips.

“You live here?” and I swear I saw his nose turn up. This was the first time he had dropped me home, normally I make my own way home, purely for this reason. His snobbery and my poorness do not mix well.

“Yup, I am sorry, but we can’t all live in million-pound houses and penthouses,” I winked, opening the door before he could say anything else. “Goodnight, Preston, I hope you find someone that can give you what you need.” And with a sombre nod, I slam the door shut before running in the rain and ducking into my apartment block, not once looking back.

Once inside, I stripped down, pulled my pyjamas on and climbed into bed.

I felt heavy from Preston’s offload and suddenly I was exhausted.


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