Page 31 of Wreckin' Amethyst

“Why were you attracting…” Sebby begins, but becomes too invested in me cutting the shorts high on my thighs and the t-shirt into a crop top. Tying it in a knot at the back with an elastic band – thank you drawer of random shit – I’m feeling much more Amethyst by the time he ushers me from the room. Apparently altering his limited Gucci collection was a trigger. The trunk beyond the entrance is slammed closed as I reach the stairs, ducking low and waiting for everyone to vacate the vicinity. Once clear, I slink down the stairs, grab the sneakers one of the interviewees left by the door and jump into the back of the limo.

“Good to go?” I ask Craig, patiently waiting in the driver’s seat.

“Are you sure Mr. Carter wants me to take you here?” Craig frowns through the open divider, pointing at his navigation screen. Mr. Carter huh? I’ll come back to that thought. Nodding, I shift, eager not to sit around in the driveway for too long. Craig picks up his phone, tapping on the side. “Maybe I should speak to him to confirm.”

“No need Craig, Amethyst is only doing as asked. I’ll accompany her myself,” Myles announces, dropping into the seat beside me and slamming the door closed. Sitting up straight, Craig begins to drive immediately, closing the divider between us.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my eyes roaming over Myles’ casual jeans and t-shirt.

“I’ve spent the entire day pretending I wasn’t thinking of you, when you’re all I’ve been thinking about. And I’ve come to a decision.”

“Oh yeah?” I raise one brow. We pass through the iron gates, leaving the manor behind and suddenly, I’m overly self-conscious about our destination. Myles takes my hand in his, placing them between his widely spread legs.

“I don’t care who you are, or whoever you want to be. I don’t care who you desire, or who you sleep with, as long as I’m on that list too. Wherever you are turns into an adventure. And adventure is what my life is sorely lacking.” We fall into a comfortable silence, our minds working overtime to bridge the gaps words can’t comprehend.

For someone who has spent her life making snap conclusions of others, I misjudged Myles. In my defense, he’s the only exception of a cliché as old as time. Those with money hold all the power, and with power comes misjudged influence and terrible decision making. But Myles is as much a victim to his fortune as I am to those pulling the strings of my past. Money and power are our oppressors, yet maybe, just maybe we could provide a slither of salvation for each other. For a brief period of time at least.

The journey passes too quickly, since the side of the freeway traveling away from the city is practically deserted. Entering a rundown town, the limo judders over potholes, but that’s not what draws the local’s attention. It’s the fact a freaking limo is gracing their streets, maneuvering between boarded up stores and an area dedicated to pitched tents for the homeless. Craig pulls into an alleyway around the back of a food kitchen, his eyes darting as we jump out.

“I don’t know about this boss,” he mutters, popping the trunk. Curious folk linger at the end of the alley, prying shadows with growling stomachs.

“Once we’re unpacked, just get yourself out of here. And do not tell Carter where we are,” Myles orders. “I have plans with Ami.” Blinking a few times in surprise, the back door of the kitchen opens.

“Melissa! You’re back!” a plump woman with frizzy orange hair and a warm smile opens her arms for me. I have to bend almost in half to receive her hug. “Love what you’re done with the hair.” I greet her with similar compliments, asking if she can spare some men to help unload. They respond quickly, a production line forming as the food is rushed into the kitchen. The soup-kitchen owner gushes about how many more people they’ll be able to feed this evening and a rare blossom of warmth spreads through my chest.

It’s been too long since I’ve been back here. It’s where I found Charley, and even though I swore to never let her return, there’s many more who still need help. A way out, a better future. I’m not in the business of taking on any more proteges, but I can at least know they won’t go hungry tonight.

“Just how many personalities do you have?” Myles winds an arm around my middle to pull me a step back and mutters into my ear. I nudge him with a roll of my eyes.

“They’repersonas. I’m a con-woman, not schizophrenic. And I’ve lost count – some only last for an hour or a day, some can last years. Whatever serves me best at the time.” Shrugging, we watch Craig slam the trunk and dive into the driver’s seat as if he might catch poverty. Myles chuckles at my back, attempting to leave after the limo has skidded away. “Shall we get going then?”

“You think it’s that easy?” I question, remaining by the back door with my arms folded. “Anyone can simply donate to the poor. Get your ass inside and get a hair net.” And I track him every step of the way as he does just that.

Chapter 21

Weburstintothehotel lobby arm in arm, my smile wide enough to make my cheeks ache. Announcing himself at the reception desk, I pick a piece of lettuce from Myles’ hair. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard as watching Myles be man-handled by a group of women with more drive than teeth. They weren’t shy, and he gently declined each of their advances whilst still appearing like a smooth-talking bachelor.

We stayed far longer than expected, and I also fell victim to watching him like all of the horny women were. He was quite something. His muscled frame crouched to help a young girl color with crayons. His full lips moving as he read a few resumés and gave feedback, offering to speak to his contacts on their behalf. I had to fan myself at the joy he found in helping others, my mind reeling with the need to have him. There’s no need to deny Myles anymore. Dragging him away at closing was difficult, but the lust filling my gaze somehow managed it. We promptly took a taxi to the city, tipping the driver his yearly salary.

“Your guest has already arrived, Mr. Hudson,” the receptionist bats her eyelashes at Myles, handing him a keycard. I withhold my questions, entering the elevator and walking to room 225 with him. The hotel is the lower end of extravagant, all white walls and wide hallways, rounded archways and navy-blue carpet with cream detailing. Pushing the keycard into the door’s handle, a green light permits us entry.

Candles glimmer through the dark room, a scattered line of rose petals leading to a huge bed. I don’t take much note of the other furniture in the suite, my eyes drawn directly to the reclined figure by a standing bucket of champagne on ice.

“Myles?” a voice calls out and I freeze. Confusion and dread crash through my gut like a tidal wave that renders me speechless. “What…is she doing here?” Sebby sits upright. Myles nudges me inside, closing the door. His smile is still as casual as ever, his arm forcing me to stumble further inside.

“It’s okay,” Myles soothes. Is it? Because I’m not sure what the fuck this is. “I know you two have become close, and I won’t stand in the way of the relationship you’re building. I may be possessive of those I care for, but I’m not the jealous type.” My widened eyes catch Sebby’s. He moves a pillow to cover his boxers, the caricature tattoos on his body catching the candlelight. Over his chest, a Gypsy witch smiles out from her head scarf, while Marilyn Monroe holds her skirt down on his thigh. Oblivious to the warning signals Sebby is mentally sending, Myles’ continues.

“I thought, instead of sneaking around, you two should explore your connection. And if you’d like…assistance, I’ll be right here.” Pulling the t-shirt over his head, Myles unbuttons his jeans in preparation and sits in an armchair angled to watch. By his knees, a low table has been prepared with a range of sex toys and restraints. My mouth goes dry. I look from Myles, to Sebby and back again.

“Um, actually,” I begin but Sebby clears his throat and shakes his head. Apparently, we’re still playing coy. Okay – plan B. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m out of action today. For the next 3-4 days, if you catch my drift,” I hold my lower abdomen as if I don’t have an implant and been without a period for the past few years. “But I am intrigued as to what you would do with this.” Picking up a set of glass anal beads, I inspect them by candlelight. Myles’s eyes zero in on me licking the end bead, his cock jumping behind his boxers. Walking a few steps backward, I hand the anal beads to Sebby and encourage him to nudge the pillow aside. Each movement is tracked, the shift in dynamics taking a moment to settle.

“What? You’ve never thought of Sebby that way? He’s a stunningly gorgeous man.” I run a hand through Sebby’s hair. Grey eyes blink up at me, eager yet vulnerable.

“Um…I mean, we have…in the past,” Myles replies.

“Really?” A devilish smile across my face as the bait is taken. I wink at Sebby before strolling back towards Myles. “Show me.” No one in the room moves. Even the candles flicker with uncertainty. The men lock eyes, their chests rising and falling heavily. Rounding the chair, extracting myself from the silent conversation the pair are having, I lean across the back of Myles’ shoulders.

“Myles?”

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