Mr. London - Page 39

After a relaxing thirty minutes, Nicole steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her wet body. She hears a slight creaking noise coming from the kitchen.

“Jacques,” Nicole calls out. “Is that you?”

Silence. Probably just my imagination, Nicole thought. She quickly puts on a pair of pants and a tee-shirt, and walks to the bedroom to get her phone.

Nicole scans her bed, looks under the pillows, unable to locate her phone. Not on the bedside table, she looks in the drawer, thinking she must have put it there. She bends down and looks under the bed. No phone. Frowning, Nicole stands back up, and suddenly freezes. It feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room. Nicole catches her breath, goosebumps prickling her skin.

She can feel someone else in the room, can feel their presence. Spinning around, Nicole’s eyes widen in panic. She is unable to move, sheer terror overwhelming her body.

“Looking for this?” Nick sneers, holding up her phone, a lunatic’s grin on his face.

“Nick!” Nicole gasps, her hand covering her mouth, her face turning white as a sheet. She felt like she had just seen a ghost.

Nicole lunges towards the door, in a desperate attempt to escape. Nick quickly grabs hold of her, pinning her arm behind her back, roughly jerking her towards him. She begins to scream, a piercing cry for help. Nick quickly puts his cold black leather gloved hand over her mouth, stifling her screams.

“Aren’t you happy to see me, baby?” Nick whispers in Nicole’s ear, his voice full of venom. He spins her around, facing him, his hands firmly clamped around her throat, squeezing tighter and tighter. The fear in her eyes made Nick feel powerful, in control. It was everything he had been fantasizing about and more.

“Please……..” Nicole choked, tears streaming down, eyes bulging, her face turning a sickly blue.

Nicole’s body slumped to the floor, death by strangulation.

Nick hurriedly left Nicole’s apartment, quietly closing the door behind him. He looks around, making sure no one notices him. He keeps his head down as he walks across the street, wanting to keep a low profile. No one appears to notice Nick - people busily going about their evening. He hails a taxi, making his way back to Charles de Gaulle Airport.

Four hours later, Nick Stone is on flight #452, returning to London, his thoughts now focused on Sergio Rossi.

Chapter 29

Caprice sips a glass of Dom Perignon champagne, her long, slender fingers wrapped around the glass flute. She glances at Sergio who was busy talking on the phone, or rather, barking orders into the phone, presumably to one of his men.

She sighs inwardly, and looks out of the window. Caprice and Sergio were flying to London, attending to whatever “business” Sergio needed to attend to. Caprice raises an eyebrow, taps her glass. She felt edgy, the two and half hour flight feeling more like two and half days. At least they were using Sergio’s private jet.

Sergio got off the phone, much to Caprice’s relief. She downed her champagne, the alcohol helping to taking the edge off. The flight attendant quickly produced another glass, as well as one for Sergio.

Caprice hands him his glass of champagne. “Here, bell’umo. You sound like you need this.”

After a couple of glasses of bubbly each, they were both feeling more relaxed. Caprice knew what would help even more.

“Let’s go the bedroom,” Caprice purred. Sergio didn’t need any further persuasion.

They made their way to the back of the jet, Caprice giggling from the champagne. She flung herself onto the queen size bed. Lying on her back, she hiked her leopard printed Roberto Cavalli skirt up around her waist, bending her knees and opening her legs.

Sergio bent down, burying his face in Caprice’s shaved pussy, licking and sucking. She lets out a moan, throwing her head back. There was nothing like getting eaten out at 30,000 feet in the air, Caprice thought with a sigh of pleasure.

Caprice found her release, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips, Sergio’s tongue working its magic. After a few moments to recover, she then drops to her knees, while Sergio rips her shirt off, the sight of her beautiful breasts making his cock even harder.

It was Caprice’s turn to work her magic on Sergio, her tongue and mouth licking and sucking, her head bobbing up and down. Sergio looked out of the airplane window. There was nothing like getting your cock sucked at 30,000 feet in the air, Sergio thought with a satisfied groan.

*

Sergio and Caprice landed at Heathrow Airport on time, a chaffured limo waiting for them after exiting customs. Caprice sauntered through Heathrow, enjoying the admiring looks from various men, while Sergio possessively wrapped his arm around her waist.

They were escorted to their suite at the Bulgari Hotel, in the heart of London. The suite, which included butler service, offered sweeping views of Hyde Park. The butler took Caprice’s lunch order, desperately trying not to stare at Caprice. Sergio, taking no notice of the view or the butler, locked himself away in the study, apparently his mind on business.

Bored, Caprice walks to the study, placing her ear up to the door, trying to hear Sergio’s conversation.

“We will meet tomorrow,” Sergio said. “Yes…..we can discuss then……….” Sergio’s voice trailed off. Caprice couldn’t make out anything else. Not that she really wanted to know what was going on anyway. Caprice had her mind on her own business affairs. Before she and Sergio left, Caprice took it upon herself to contact Maxie Shepard. She spoke with Maxie’s assistant, who asked Caprice to send in some photographs and a biography, and would pass Caprice’s information on to Maxie for review. Caprice decided she would wait and tell Sergio after they returned

to Naples.

Tags: Margot Scott Romance
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