Lord of London Town

Charlie was beside me in a flash, body vibrating with excitement. “Eye candy or dead meat?”

“The latter,” I replied.

“Shame. The bloke on the right is fit. He looks like he could take my kind of rough play.”

Eric waved a hand at Freddie beside him. “Freddie Williams.” Eric pointed to Vinnie. “Vinnie Edwards.” Vinnie ran to the side of the yacht and laughed manically, the muscles bulging in his neck and shoulders. When his laugh faded, a wide, deranged smile stayed on his face as he stood there and stared.

The posh fuckers took a fearful step back, as if my brother would pole-vault over the sea beneath us and land on their deck. “Stay calm,” I said to Vinnie so he could hear me. I heard him inhale and exhale, doing what I said, but his smile remained. Good thing about Vinnie, he always listened to me. I was his soulmate’s older brother. He’d never cross me in a million years. For Pearl. Everything he did was for, or because of, Pearl.

“I’m Eric Mason.” Eric gestured to Charlie. “This is Charlie Adley.” Then Eric came to me and hooked his arm around my neck. I put my gaze back on Cheska. “And this is Arthur Adley.” Eric gave the pricks on the opposite yacht a mocking bow. “Nice to fucking meet you.” His humour dropped. “You might have heard of us.”

The twat who had kissed Cheska and opened his fucking trap lost his superior smirk. The blood drained from his face. Of course the arsehole had heard of us. Cheska’s mates, who had been lying on loungers, quickly looked at Cheska. She was watching me like a hawk. Her eyelids lowered slightly, and a flush crept up her neck. I wanted to follow that flush with my tongue, and I knew Chelsea Girl would fucking love it.

“Come on,” the twat said to his mates, who were practically pissing themselves in fear behind him. Bravado fucking lost. “Let’s get a drink below deck.” They scurried away like the cowardly rats they were, and Cheska’s friends quickly trotted behind them.

“Come on,” Eric said to us all. “Let’s hit the beach bars. Posh pussy is too much like hard graft. And if I have to look at those twats again, I’m going to end them.” He waggled his brows. “Can’t have too much fun on day one or the rest of the holiday will be a fucking bust. Best keep the bloodshed until near the end. Go out with a fucking bang.”

Freddie laughed and threw his arm around Eric’s shoulders, the clown tattoos looking as though they were crawling off his skin.

“Beach bar. Bloody brilliant,” Charlie said sarcastically as Eric and Freddie headed off the yacht to the marina. Charlie put his hand on Vinnie’s shoulder. “Let’s get trolleyed, old boy. Let you scare the fuck out of the tourists for a bit. It’ll be fun.”

“I like this game. It’ll be fun until Pearl wakes up.” Vinnie cracked his knuckles and skipped to the back of the yacht. Charlie turned back around to me. I hadn’t moved. I was too fixated elsewhere. “If I’m enduring sand in my fucking arse crack, so are you, cousin,” he said.

I flicked my chin, wordlessly telling him I’d be right there. When he didn’t move, I sent a glance his way. Charlie frowned, then looked toward Cheska, who was still stood on the sun deck of her yacht, still in my line of sight. “Bloody hell,” he muttered and disappeared.

I lit up another cig as Cheska kept flitting her eyes to me. I pushed one hand into my shorts pocket. Her green-brown eyes raked over my body, hooking on my tattoos of Big Ben and old London Town on my torso. Her cheeks blazed again, and I felt my dick start to swell. She edged closer to the side of the yacht. I stayed still, watching for what she’d do. Her tits were still only a handful, but they would fit fucking perfectly in my hand. I took another drag of my cig just as Cheska reached the railing.

After a few seconds of staring into the water beneath her, she lifted her head and went to open her mouth, but Twatface appeared behind her. “Ches?”

Her shoulders sagged. I wondered if she wanted this cunt to fuck off as much as I did. I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted to know what she was going to say to me after five years. When Twatface saw me, he fought to look hard by holding his shoulders back and narrowing his eyes at me. He was probably trying not to shit himself.

The minute I smirked at his feeble attempt, he tensed. Panic filled his face. Taking Cheska’s hand, he pulled her back. “Come on, Ches. Let’s go.” Cheska followed him, and I watched her go, letting nicotine fill my lungs.