Free Breaking Leila by Lucy V. Morgan Page A

months. I’d forgotten how to dress for
it, because everything I owned seemed business-like and cut for
stripping off easily. A classic black dress seemed a very lazy
choice.
    Still, I was
feeling awfully lazy that evening. I pinned my hair up loosely,
fastened on impossibly high sandals and tottered out into the
dusk.
    Aidan waited at
the bar, attempting to seduce the waiters with his mischievous
grin. It was always such fun to watch him lure them away–only to
drop into the conversation that an hour with him cost more than
their week’s wages.
    “Lei-Lei!” he
shouted, folding me into a huge bear hug.
    “My friendly
neighbourhood cock fiend.” I giggled. “I feel like it’s been
ages.”
    “A few weeks
since that American guy. What are you drinking?”
    “Water and
lemon, please.”
    He eyed me
suspiciously. “You aren’t seriously that hard up already?”
    “No, but I had
a drunken shopping incident earlier and–”
    “Really? Ugh,
God. Time for reinforcements.” He waved a hand in the air.
“Nikolai, you heard the woman–two Long Island iced teas.”
    “I’ll bring
them over,” replied the long-suffering waiter.
    We found a
corner away from the evening buzz and sank into creaky leather
sofas.
    Aidan had
provided my whoring training wheels. William would advertise us as
a couple, and I did my first three jobs with him, watching,
learning, partaking. It could’ve been a strange friendship born out
of performing together–perhaps it was–but trust and ease were
present too. I asked him once if he felt strange fucking me as his
pupil or cousin or best friend’s little sister, answering all the
client’s questions about our sordid little role-plays.
    He’d laughed
and said it made him harder.
    I called him a
pervert. A true bond was forged.
    “Tell me about
the new Lei-Lei, then,” he demanded. “Are you respectable now? Too
busy doing braniac maths for rim jobs?”
    I swatted him.
“I can’t moonlight forever, you know. I want to be normal
eventually.”
    “You’re a tax
lawyer. You’ll never be normal.” Our drinks arrived and he gave
Nikolai a teasing stare. “Gah. I can’t seem to break him.”
    “Maybe he
doesn’t swing that way?” I toyed with my straw.
    “Bollocks!   Everyone   swings that way. Some of them just don’t know it
yet.”
    Aidan had a lot
of interesting theories on sexuality. The basis seemed to be that
if someone wouldn’t screw him, they were in some form of
denial.
    “Maybe you need
to wear something more low-cut,” I mused.
    He stared down
his nose at me. “Just because you can afford to show a hint of
areola for free now, doesn’t mean we all can.”
    I tugged up the
bodice of my dress. “Cheers for that.”
    “My pleasure,
you smug bitch.” He clinked his glass against mine. “To Lei-Lei’s
normal life. May she marry a run-of-the-mill John with a slight
beer belly, who only likes missionary with his socks still on.”
    “To John. I can
see it now. On Tuesdays, he plays badminton and on Wednesdays, I
make shepherd’s pie–”
    “–and every
second Thursday, you have four minutes of vacant sex. He indicates
this by brushing his teeth seventy-two seconds longer than usual
and tactlessly leaving the condom on the bedside table.”
    “He sounds
dreamy.” I sipped my drink and choked, eyes bulging. “Jesus, Aid.
How strong is this? I told you, I can’t get drunk again!”
    “Yeah, what’s
up with that, anyway?”
    “It’s a long
story,” I grumbled.
    He cocked a
coppery eyebrow. “I’m sure I can put up with you long enough to
listen. Unless something better comes along, anyway.”
    I kicked him
under the table. “Arse.”
    “You love it!
Now spill.”
    “The last job I
did…it turned out to be for my boss and a guy in my office.”
    Aidan’s turn to
choke. He grabbed my hands, squeezing them to bruising. “Oh my God.
How kinky! What was it like? Were they hot?”
    “Keep your
voice down!” I hissed. “It’s