A/N: Warnings: NSFW. plot? what plot? this is pure smut, smutty smut smut smut smut
Pairing: sub!Tommy x reader
Word count: 4075 words of SMUT
this is my first sub!tommy piece so PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. i live off of feedback (especially of the positive variety✨) so if you liked this please lemme know! Also if you have some ideas of what I should write next YA GIRLS DONE UNI so ill have so much time to write (job? what is a job?) so please send some stuff my way.
You would never tire of it. The sight of him beneath you. The feel of his shuddering body trapped between your thighs.
Thomas Shelby—the king of Birmingham, the man who one day could be emperor of the world—vulnerable beyond all recognition because of you, because of your touch. Here he was, laid underneath you, naked, defenseless, utterly exposed— giving you all that he had, all that he was, and begging for you to take even more.
Tommy would never tire of it either. The way he felt being at your mercy. The relief that came from his submission. The warm and comfortable feeling of being safe despite relinquishing his control. But most of all, you. He would never tire of the way that you felt, the way that you made him feel. It was mystifying. Beautiful and terrifying. Addicting and all-consuming.
With your smooth legs straddling his waist, you made sure the ties around his wrist and the bedpost were strong enough to withstand him. Tommy always resisted the bondages at first. Never wanting to actually admit to you (or himself) just how much he needed you to dominate him, to take control, to silence his mind— even though his body always ended betraying his reluctance in the end.
Crawling your way back down his body, you paused briefly to kiss him hard on the mouth, your tongues quickly falling in rhythm with each other. Humming against his wanton lips, you forced yourself to pull away, grinding your hips against his as you continued moving your mouth down the path to his chest. Tommy used to hate it when you would spend time exploring all the scars and markings on his body, having some irrational fear that you would be repulsed with the evidence of his failures— the scars symbols that he wasn’t quick enough, smart enough, or in enough control to beat his enemies. He at first didn’t believe you when yo would tell him how much you loved his chest, his markings, his scars—but you loved everything about him, he was your Tommy. You kissed your way along the constellations that formed in his freckles, taking your time on his scars to show your respect for his resilience and strength. Tommy loved it when you peppered his skin dark and purple with your teeth, no longer able to deny the utter pride he felt when he saw the markings days later reminding him that he was yours, and you were his. When your mouth reached his nipples, you simply couldn’t deny yourself. Tommy always became weak when you would start rolling one between your mouth and the other between you hand, using your teeth and nails in a way which always got him whimpering.
The feel of your warmth even through the fabric of your panties had Tommy writhing wildly beneath you. The otherwise quiet room was disturbed by the sound of heavy breathing and the creaking of the headboard as Tommy pulled against his restraints. Each breath that escaped his lips was followed by your name. The way his desire thickened his accent to form each syllable of your moniker seemed like a prayer that he could only ever whisper to you in moments like this.
“Y/N… Please.” Tommy pleaded, his voice quiet but overflowing with his lustrous need.
“Tell me what you want Tommy.” You answer, stretching upright to admire the map your mouth left on his skin. Littering his skin like directions to his secret treasure. It made you smile thinking what would happen to his credibility and authority if anyone else saw him as you did now. His thick black hair so gloriously dishevelled, his skin glistening with sweat. His chest covered with the evidence of your devotion and power over him. Nobody would believe that the Tommy Shelby, the feared gangster and powerful businessman was tied up, naked and vulnerable in your bed, willing to do whatever it took to give you pleasure, even at the expense of his own.
“Please-please Y/N. Let me touch you. Please. Please.” God how you loved it when he begged. Tommy’s voice was distraught, his breath weak and shallow. He needed this, needed you, and his voice told you just how much.
“You will Tommy. Just not yet. Be a patient soldier and be good for me okay?” You whispered as you brought your mouth back onto his, figuring you would let him kiss you to compensate for your answer. “Just a little bit longer I promise you. Do you trust me?”
“Yes! Yes, I trust you.” He breathed out anxiously, trying with all his might to move his hips beneath you for some much-needed friction down below.
“Good.”
Continuing your trek down his flushed chest, you silently moved one of your hands to your already heated and slick center, coating your fingers with your liquid desire. Your eyes were fixed on his, a devilishly coquettish laugh escaping your mouth as you watched his reaction with unparalleled satisfaction. Tommy’s eyes were lit up bright blue, shifting quickly back and forth from your face to the hand that was hidden inside of you, waiting like a dog who had been told to sit as his owner got him a treat. His mouth was drooling and his breathing erratic. It was a sight. When you shoved your fingers in his open mouth, he was more than ready. Tommy was sucking back your juices with a crazed hunger, moving his tongue in earnest to make sure he swallowed every-last-drop of you.
“You like that Tommy? Like knowing what you can do to me without even having touched me?” His response was a scandalous groan of agreement from around your fingers. “How should I reward you for getting me so wet hmm? What does my good boy think he deserves? Should I suck my soldiers cock? Tell me what you want Thomas.”
“God Y/N yes. Ple-please…please–your mouth–tong–.” His voice came out through sputters. Every nerve ending in his body so fired up with adrenaline and anticipation for your touch that his mind was in a haze. When Tommy was in such a state, he couldn’t even really tell where he was actually being touched, the sensations so strong they spread all over his body.
“Very well, since you begged so nicely. On one condition soldier— you are not allowed to make a peep. Is that understood.” You voice clear that it wasn’t meant as a question. Staring him dead in the eyes as you waited for his non-verbal agreement. Tommy wasted no time in nodding his assent, throwing his head back hard against the pillow as you moved your body off his lap and onto his calves, trailing your tongue along him as you moved down the rest of his torso and up until you reached his aching shaft. Tommy had to exert all of his control and power to stop himself from whimpering as you flicked your tongue against his beading slit, which already had been leaking out the opalescent pearls of his wanton desire. His hips bucked automatically, but quickly calming in their frenzy as you forced them back down with your hands as a warning.
“Mmmm. Tasty little thing, aren’t you?” You moaned against his veined skin, teasing him with your tongue just before taking him in whole.
“Fuck. Ah!”
Uh oh.
Tommy stilled completely, mentally cursing himself for disobeying the one thing that you had demanded of him. He was used to disappointing people, especially those in his family—but he could not stand the shame that came with disappointing you. He waited anxiously to see how you would react, terribly afraid that you would reprimand him by removing your touch from him altogether—which admittedly he thought he deserved for his insubordination.
But you didn’t.
Instead when you pulled Tommy out of your mouth with a wet pop, your wrapped your palm tightly around his saturated cock and began stroking him at a torturously slow speed. You moved so you were no longer straddling him but close beside his leg, and you used your free hand to peel your saturated knickers down your legs. As you let the cool air contrast against your heated center, you roughly shoved the fabric into Tommy’s mouth, gagging him.
“Tsk tsk tsk. I said I didn’t want to hear a sound from you didn’t I Tommy? Was there something about what I said that you didn’t understand?” You asked sweetly, despite the concealed cruelty behind the words. You shoved your panties further in closer to his throat, and held his jaw to force him to clamp the fabric tighter with his teeth. “If I hear another sound come out of that pretty little mouth of yours, I will stop. I will make you watch me as I get myself off. I won’t let you touch and I will not let you be touched. And you won’t be able to come for a week. I was being nice earlier—rewarding you for being so good. Are you going to be a good soldier for me now Tommy, or are you simply going to continue wasting my time?”
Tommy wanted nothing more than to speak, to beg you to forgive his insolence, to explain how badly he needed you, how badly he wanted you. He wanted to scream out that he could you be good for you, that he would be for you. But instead all he did was nod his head, because what else could he really do? You had him at your mercy and you both knew it.
Gingerly you moved the hair that had fallen down by his eyes with your hand—an act so intimate and sweet in its nature Tommy almost forgot how you literally just threatened him a moment ago. As your other hand continued to lazily stroke his cock, you purposely let your nails scratch along the throbbing veins. Tommy knew this was a test and that you were goading him. Almost as if you wanted him to make another noise, to fail. But that was what he needed from you wasn’t it? Not the reassurance that he wouldn’t fail, but that his failure could be forgiven and learned from without the threat of rejection. That he could relinquish control, free fall in the uncertainty of the chaos and you would be waiting at the bottom to catch him and help build him back up again.
Shifting your body around you moved so you were now facing his feet, your calves surrounding his head, breasts hovering above his naval. Your sopping and exposed cunt dripping decadently above his face, just barely out of his reach. Before Tommy even had the chance to react to the dangerous proximity of your soused heat, you once again took him whole in your mouth, pressing the leaking tip of his cock against the back of your throat making him cry out softly against his gag. Humming your lips around him, swishing your tongue across his girth as you bopped your head up and down, Tommy was a mess.
He began alternating between whimpering and growling around the fabric of your panties that were still tightly held with his clenched jaw. He could taste you, smell you, fuck he was staring directly into you as your cunt trembled and dripped above him, but it was nowhere near enough. He wanted you in his mouth, wanted so badly to be inside of you, to touch you, to be engulfed by you. He was crying from how much he needed you. A privilege he was desperate to earn.
Normally you would make him wait just a little bit more before giving in, but tonight you found it hard to rationalize putting off your own pleasure just to teach him a lesson. Without taking your mouth off him, you reached back behind you and found his taunt jaw with your fingers. Moving your hands blindly across his face you found his mouth and pulled the sodden fabric out, disposing of it somewhere on the floor, freeing the tongue that you so desperately needed. Tommy was belligerent in his gratitude as you removed his gag and required no instruction for what to do next, the removal of the oral obstruction was as much direction and permission as he needed.
His mouth was already wet when he made contact, he had been salivating like a dog ever since you tightened the restraints around his wrist earlier in the evening. If there was a word to describe the manner in which Tommy devoured you, it would be maniacal. He was a crazed animal, greedy from deprivation, teeth bared and tongue savagely running along your folds. His lips sucked around your engorged clit, growling so ferociously that the vibrations sent charges all over your body. No longer strong enough in your legs to hold yourself above him, you pressed your cunt right down against his face. Your hips grinding on him so hard, he could scarcely breathe.
But he didn’t need to.
Tommy needed you and nothing else. When it came to moments like these, you could take his life, take his money, take his power, he didn’t care.He would lay everything at your feet so long as he could have this. The joy of giving it all to you, the pride of making you scream his name, the peace that came from you taking control.
The freedom he found through his submission.
Sensing how close you were you dropped Tommy out of your mouth— far too preoccupied in your pleasure to care about how lewd you must’ve looked as the mixture of saliva and cum drooled slowly from your open mouth. You tried to continue lazily stroking Tommy with one of your hands but found it much too hard to pay any proper attention, your brain overwhelmed with your own sensory overload. Rommy was a man was as sure of what he could do with his tongue as he was with a gun. You would probably argue that his tongue was a weapon in itself and capable of mass-destruction. Well-versed in the various ways to please you, Tommy knew exactly how to move his tongue to give you your climax— rolling just the tip of your clit gingerly between his teeth and lips.
Your orgasm came all at once— erupting from your core with a strangled and primal cry, which did nothing but spur Tommy on to continue, going for seconds. Your juices poured like milk over his face, your cum and his spit dripping licentiously down his jaw and neck to pool on the pillow beneath his head. Tommy did his best to lap out your mess with his tongue, trying to balance his job to pleasure you over catching his own breath which was shaky from the ferocity of your own undoing—but he would choose you over life any day. You rested your head atop his thigh while you let him finish, incapable of denying your lover the simple pleasures of his favourite sticky treat that you made special just for him. His tongue was exploring the inside of your once more. The precision and rhythm with which he moved on your overly sensed cunt was strong enough to induce delirium. It wasn’t long before the familiar sensation that had began building steadily in you core had erupted yet again cascading down his face in warm streams, quickly being swallowed again by your eager lover.
Groaning through tender satisfaction, you reluctantly pulled your body off from Tommy’s, moving almost comically slow from the overexertion brought on by your orgasms. You turned your body back around to face him properly once again, laughing in contentment as you looked upon his face that was slick and glistening from the mess of your cunt.
“My god Tommy you’re brilliant.” You say smiling wildly into his eyes, bringing your mouth on his to taste your own sweet concoction that was mixed with the whiskey and smoke from Tommy’s tongue.
“…Was I uh—good for you…?” Tommy asked in a breathless whisper. Despite making your come twice in the span of minutes, he worried you would still be disappointed in him for his insolence earlier and not reward him.
“Oh yes. Yes-you-were-Tommy. So good luv—I’m still trembling” You say laughing into his delicious mouth “… And to think you did all that with just your mouth. Gosh so amazing Tommy, and since you were such a good little soldier, I’m going to let you touch me. Would you like that my darling?” You flirtatious asked, smiling as you touched the lips you so adored with your trembling fingers.
“Oh God yes. Yes-please, please… let me touch you…” Tommy’s breath was shaky, his eyes desperately pleading his case. He was moaning how much he loved you, needed you, desired to worship you as your arms reached up to his which were fastened to the headboard. When he was begging like that—in complete dissociation from everything apart from your touch—there was no way you could deny him.
Immediately after being released from his restraints, Tommy pulled you closer to him, breathing in the scent of your hair, murmuring his gratitude into your skin. His strong arms helped move you so you could straddle him once more before he sat up grabbing onto your face to attach your mouth to his with an open mouthed kiss. You let Tommy take his time exploring your skin with his calloused hands. He did earn it after all. Still kissing him, you were breathing words of praise straight into his mouth, telling him all about how good he made you feel, and how proud you were that he was yours. If Tommy wasn’t so distracted with the feel of his hands over you and the ache from his neglected cock, he probably would have burst into tears.
Pulling back ever to slightly so you can look into Tommy’s eyes— which had darkened considerably from his heightened lust— you asked him a question he wasn’t used to hearing on days like this.
“Is this how you want me soldier? You were so good to me today I’ll let you pick which way I use you. Go on Tom, tell me how you want it.”
He paused for a minute of disbelief before answering with a shaky voice.
“Just like this. I want tt-to see you. I want to touch you. Please. Can we–like this?” His eyes were glazed over as he spoke, and you swore you could see tears in his eyes from how happy and at peace he was in this moment.
Kissing him hard along the jaw you lifted up your hips, one hand positioned on his chest and the one grabbing hold of his sweltering and blood-engorged cock. You teased him for just a moment along your center, coating yourself with the precome that was still beading out his tip. Tommy went absolutely rabid as you took him in inch by inch– he even bit down hard enough on your shoulder to leave a heavy indent…not that you minded of course. It was always amazing to see how Tommy was when he let go of his control and bravado, how beautiful it was when you saw him for who he was underneath all that pretense.
The once silent room was now filled with noise. The words of praise you yelled into Tommy’s ear as he thrusted up his hips to meet yours. The fanatical moans and curses spewing out from Tommys lips—most of which not English. The sound of your sodden bodies clashing together with the force of your passion and love for each other. You could sense that neither of you would be able to hold on for that much longer and as you looked down into Tommy’s eyes it was clear he felt the same. He was gone. Lost in the abandon of his submission. Though his eyes were staring into your face, he could not process anything except for the sensation of you and your glorious and greedy cunt that was swallowing his girth and overpowering his mind. Tommy knew better than to dare come without your permission and you could see the conflict in his eyes, knowing full well that he was in such a trance that he wouldn’t be able to speak coherently enough to ask.
You continued your assault on Tommy’s hips, bucking yours so harshly up and down on his that you both would be left bruised by tomorrow. Disentangling your fingers which had found a home in Tommy’s soft hair, you trailed them down to his neck, scratching the skin to warn him what was to come– not that he would really notice anyways. Pushing him back down on his back, you stretched your hands and brought your thumbs around to the front, massaging the muscles as you did. With your thumbs pressing against the carotid arteries just below his jaw, you steadily began to increase the pressure, keeping your eyes trained on his to help anchor him to the moment.
Tommys eyes were wide, his mouth open in disbelief and desperation. This was it. He could never last long when you finally took control over everything. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he waited for you to grant him his release.
“Come.” That was all you said. All that you needed to say.
As soon as Tommy heard that sacred word fall gracefully from your moistened lips, he fell apart. You could feel his warmth pulsate into you, his cock twitching as he came with fierce desperation. You collapsed onto his chest as you continued to gently ride him to your own undoing, making sure he knew that you were still with him as he floated through his trance. As you came once again, you felt euphoric in every description, your core quivering around Tommy while he was still seeping within you. You could hear him crying now, finally finding the delivery from all his burdens and stresses—which were many. Your hands tried their best to soothe Tommy, rubbing up and down his back to bring him back down to earth. You stayed on top of him like that for a while, keeping him warm until his cries subsided and he started becoming cognizant again. When his blue eyes met yours the faintest hint of a smile came over his lips.
“You feel good Tommy? You back with me yet?” You asked gently, smoothing his hair on the top of his head and kissing him. Tommy moved closer to you, placing his mouth on yours with a quiet blissed-out hum on his lips.
“So good,” was all he replied, not just yet able to come up with anything more to say. You pulled him out of your slowly, and winced as you heard him whimper at the loss of contact. Reaching over to the bedside table, you grabbed his cigarettes and lighter, placing one in his mouth to help him in the come down. The higher Tommy got just before his release, the more anxious he became afterward. As Tommy smoked the cigarette without ever removing it from his lips, you moved to clean off his body. Giving him a reassuring squeeze on his arm before jumping off the bed, you run as quick as you can to the bathroom to run some cold water over a cloth. Trailing the cold cloth across Tommy’s face and neck upon your return. Cooing at him with the most relaxing voice you can muster you praise him for this evening, telling him how much you loved him giving over to you, and how much you loved him. You were sure to wipe off the sweat that collected all along his chest, kissing it once cleaned before using the damp cloth on yourself.
Seeing he was finished with it, you stubbed out the spent cigarette and took Tommy’s lips carefully in your own. Murmuring into his mouth more words of praise.
“That was incredible Tommy. You’re incredible. I can’t even believe how lucky I’ve gotten by having you.” Yours hands find his hair once again as you curl his body around yours, “I’m not going anywhere Tommy, I’ll stay here like this for as long as it takes for you to come back to me. I love you Tommy Shelby. I am so happy that you’re mine.”
A/N I have had this in my google docs for damn near a YEAR and i never finished it and dont really know where i was gonna go with it and i feel bad for CONSTANTLY and CONSISTENTLY letting yall down by promising i will write something and then disappearing for an undisclosed amount of time. Anyways, its hardly anything but it will be enough to stop the nagging guilt ive been feeling re. this blog for a while so hopefully it aight with you guys!!!! pce n lov!!! -kat daddy
The irony of the situation was palpable. Everything in your room was in complete order yet your life was falling apart at the seams. You couldn’t remember when it began. The late nights. The not coming home. The expressionless smiles. It must have been gradual. It must have happened so slowly that you couldn’t even feel it. Arthur once told you that weird story about frogs— how they don’t realize they are being boiled alive if you just gradually increase the temperature of the water while they’re in it—you thought it was ridiculous when you first heard it. Arthur said that the frogs won’t jump out, they won’t do anything to stop it from happening, to stop being boiled alive. They just sit there complacent in their own demise.
But as you stood in front of him from across the room you could understand. You were the frog who didn’t even notice the end was coming despite all signs suggesting otherwise.
He couldn’t even look at you when he said it. Couldn’t bother to look into your eyes as he tore your life apart in front of you. Never have you ever thought him to be a coward, but now that’s all changed. Along with everything else.
“I’m sorry–”
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry Thomas. Not if you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.” Despite the broken feeling in every bone in your body, your voice held its strength. So at least there was that.
“Y/N. Please, just–just let me explain.”
“Explain what Thomas?” you bit back, your tone stinging like venom, making him wince. “You fell in love with her, I don’t think I need that explained to me. Or do you want to explain to me how you could throw away 6 years, 6 frickin years for what? A fling? A barmaid you’ve known for a few months? Are you going to be able to explain to me what she can give you that I already haven’t? Can you explain that to me Thomas? Because if not then I just don’t care.”
“It’s Tommy,” he mumbled out, avoiding your gaze once more as he looked to the floor in shame.
“No it’s not. Not anymore it isn’t. My Tommy couldn’t do this to me, he wouldn’t be able to. Not after everything we’ve been through. Now I don’t even know who the fuck you are at this moment, but you’re not Tommy.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen Y/N. I would never hurt you, I–”
“But you are hurting me Thomas! Right now, right this minute you are hurting me!” even with his eyes on the floor, you could see him wince again as your voice finally cracked, the tears desperate to spill any minute now. “You had it good you know, and you’ve shat on it. I hope it’s all worth it Thomas. I really do. There’s no coming back from this.”
A/N I have had this in my google docs for damn near a YEAR and i never finished it and dont really know where i was gonna go with it and i feel bad for CONSTANTLY and CONSISTENTLY letting yall down by promising i will write something and then disappearing for an undisclosed amount of time. Anyways, its hardly anything but it will be enough to stop the nagging guilt ive been feeling re. this blog for a while so hopefully it aight with you guys!!!! pce n lov!!! -kat daddy
The irony of the situation was palpable. Everything in your room was in complete order yet your life was falling apart at the seams. You couldn’t remember when it began. The late nights. The not coming home. The expressionless smiles. It must have been gradual. It must have happened so slowly that you couldn’t even feel it. Arthur once told you that weird story about frogs— how they don’t realize they are being boiled alive if you just gradually increase the temperature of the water while they’re in it—you thought it was ridiculous when you first heard it. Arthur said that the frogs won’t jump out, they won’t do anything to stop it from happening, to stop being boiled alive. They just sit there complacent in their own demise.
But as you stood in front of him from across the room you could understand. You were the frog who didn’t even notice the end was coming despite all signs suggesting otherwise.
He couldn’t even look at you when he said it. Couldn’t bother to look into your eyes as he tore your life apart in front of you. Never have you ever thought him to be a coward, but now that’s all changed. Along with everything else.
“I’m sorry–”
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry Thomas. Not if you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.” Despite the broken feeling in every bone in your body, your voice held its strength. So at least there was that.
“Y/N. Please, just–just let me explain.”
“Explain what Thomas?” you bit back, your tone stinging like venom, making him wince. “You fell in love with her, I don’t think I need that explained to me. Or do you want to explain to me how you could throw away 6 years, 6 frickin years for what? A fling? A barmaid you’ve known for a few months? Are you going to be able to explain to me what she can give you that I already haven’t? Can you explain that to me Thomas? Because if not then I just don’t care.”
“It’s Tommy,” he mumbled out, avoiding your gaze once more as he looked to the floor in shame.
“No it’s not. Not anymore it isn’t. My Tommy couldn’t do this to me, he wouldn’t be able to. Not after everything we’ve been through. Now I don’t even know who the fuck you are at this moment, but you’re not Tommy.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen Y/N. I would never hurt you, I–”
“But you are hurting me Thomas! Right now, right this minute you are hurting me!” even with his eyes on the floor, you could see him wince again as your voice finally cracked, the tears desperate to spill any minute now. “You had it good you know, and you’ve shat on it. I hope it’s all worth it Thomas. I really do. There’s no coming back from this.”
Requested: yes Published: December 30th, 2021 Pairing: Established Tommy Shelby x Reader Prompt(s):none Warning(s): none Word count: 1.5k Author’s note: I am sorry for this late update. I didn’t think it has actually been that long since I posted this. I was listening to “Let’s Hurt Tonight” by OneRepublic as I was writing this, and perhaps it’s why this took such a dark turn (the song itself matches this fic very well). I tried to keep it as “light” as I could, but given how I wrote the first part, such demands were impossible to fulfill. This talks of post-trauma, because there is no way in hell that Reader is okay after what I put her through in the first chapter. The ending is open for interpretation, for trauma doesn’t go after two days have passed. I’m really proud of my writing in this one, and I hope you will like it.
Sometimes, fate was so cruel it made one cry. You had, honest to God, never believed in fate until the moment the liberty of a choice was taken away from you. There was darkness around your heart and mind, urging you to believe that maybe, just maybe, this torture was fate deemed your eligible punishment.
Barely any fight left in you to disagree with the universe.
There is suffering in silence. Menace in the waters. Fear in every fiber of your body.
And for what?
Your skin was slick with sweat that had formed over days work. There was little air in the derelict stockroom, only the cold that seeped through whatever cracks had been made over the years of neglect. Rarely did you visit such places, where one didn’t have working water.
Your lips turned dry, tongue like sandpaper. Thirst.
You were thirsty.
Yet all it took to send you vomiting was one look at the water. One thought at the liquid.
They hadn’t been gone long; you took note. The sun blinked in between clouds as it did when they were there, and so you still saw it through the gap in the wall. It was little after the first few hours of dawn; one might guess if they had the courage.
A hum of a song left your lips, the only sound in the warehouse. It had once been accompanied by the rustling of cloth against the chair or the scraping of a boot against the floor. By the time your wrists began bleeding and your feet froze solid, you had given up entirely. But you had to drone the melody if only to let yourself know you were still alive.
It was fate’s game to play now.
And you were no longer a player.
Eyelids became too heavy to hold yet again, the itchiness in your eyes a malice on its own. They began closing at a snail’s pace, but you held them in place knowing what kind of irritation the water gathered in the corners of your eyes would give. That dance was so overdone. It was more challenging to dance it the more it happened.
And so, you let them flap shut, your neck a loose rope that could no longer stay upright. Your chin met your chest, and you could hear the shallowness of your breathing accompany the song. The fire turned ember in your lungs but still it hurt to inhale freely more than it hurt to just gather enough air to live.
The waters would be a mercy.
Indeed they would. They would leave no room to fight them, perhaps not in the beginning. But it was a swifter death than the one that was draining you. Slowly, you would close your eyes and fall asleep, and mercy would be as sharp as a knife in ending you in your sleep.
And then just as you were about to succumb to the darkness, fate played wrong.
And Tommy Shelby made the right move.
The game was over.
But you didn’t know.
Bella.
Changretta’s voice was a force in your mind. The warehouse was once again filled with sound. They were so, so loud.
Bella.Bella. Bella.
Your body began shaking on its own accord, and you pulled at the restrains, fearing what’s to come.
Not the water again.
Please not the water.
Your creased riding boots kicked against the ground that you mistook for bottomless water only a second before. But it was solid. The floor was as solid as it could be beneath you.
Grounded. You were on the ground.
But then hands – rough, calloused hands – were grasping your shoulders and you were afraid of being pulled under as you were hours ago. Your face downright denied to look at the shadow casted over your lap even when its hand took your chin in a firm yet gentle grip and pulled your face to its own. The water burned behind your closed eyelids, and you refused to begin the dance despite knowing the relief that awaited once it was done.
Bella.
“Y/N.”
Name. Your name.
“Y/N look at me.”
You pried your eyes slowly, and then waited for relief to wash over you upon seeing his face. “You’re okay,” Tommy said to you, his words a declaration. Final.
You gathered your strength and wept.
***
“Here love,” it was Polly who gave you the tea. The saucer rattled as your shaky hands grasped it, pulling it to your mantle covered lap. Your eyes took in the crammed living room - one you had known for years – with blank disinterest. You hadn’t even casted a glance at the liquid tea, and your food lay cold and forgotten beside you.
Polly scooted closer to you on the chaise. You let her. You let her lean over and kiss your hair, now clean and flowery scented after it took Tommy hours to clean it. No water, you remember screaming at him in the tub. Begging. You remember clawing at his shirt like a relentless animal that had escaped years of imprisonment. He took every blow, every curse with steel in his eyes. There was raging ice in them, wrath that waited to be unleashed. Not upon you. But upon the Italian’s that took you from him.
He left just over a quarter-hour ago, taking the anger with him, leaving his warmth with you. “Take care of her,” you remember him telling Polly, who still shook in the aftermath of seeing you so…
Tortured.
Polly disappeared to give you space. Space and time to adjust.
Warmth washed over the room from where the lit hearth was placed, the crackling and popping of burning wood a sound that complemented it. You hadn’t needed to hum, for there was already music drifting through the house from a radio. The scene was all but serene for yourself.
You touched your neck softly, with just the tips of your fingers, remembering what agony took place inside it. Your wrists, once soft and scarless were now marred with burns from the rope you had pulled on tightly one too many times. The clothes. The clothes you had picked out only a day before were discarded, and you sat dressed in the finest silk pajamas with wide pants and buttoned top. The color of the porcelain teacup, appliquéd with not flowers but circles of all shapes and sizes. It was what you had chosen for yourself, deeming it adorable and comfortable enough to wear as sleepwear. Now you felt bare, despite its cap sleeves and ankle long length.
Like the skin wasn’t yours.
All it took to crumble was one look at the tea in hand, one look at the reflection.
You threw the teacup at the wall and screamed.
***
“Is he dead?”
The mattress dipped, a new weight on it. You didn’t move, didn’t nest into the warmth like you loved to do. Only laid with your hands beneath your cheek, looking out of the ceiling high window where the moonlit sky was embracing the world. You dared not to breathe, dared not to make a sound that would disturb the calm night.
For hours, you had tossed and turned. On and on until you decided sleep was a nothing more than a wistful wish you couldn’t have. “Tommy?”
He stayed silent, as if he too knew the delicacy of the night. The sheets rustled but did not pull away from you. You stayed covered, not a speck of your body introduced to the cold.
Then he spoke, “Can I hold you?”
You bit your lip to keep the tears at bay, realizing you had kept him at arm’s length since he came for you.
Late. He had been late.
But he still came.
“He-he said,” you began slowly, speaking into the night itself, trying to not sound as disconnected as you felt. “He said I deserved to die.”
Tommy stilled.
“And he told me to give you a message,” you continued. “He said he will take everything from you. Then put a bullet through your head. So I’m asking you Tommy…is he dead?”
A moment of silence, then like death herself whispered, “Yes.”
Dead. He was dead.
Gone.
You had failed to realize you were crying until your muted cries turned into sobs. Sneaking along your body, shaking you until a body wrapped itself against you. A calm force to keep you grounded.
Tommy kissed the back of your head, “Forgive me. Please.”
He took your hand from beneath your head in his own, pressing it against your chest. Just between your breasts, a place where your frantic heart beat the hardest. You covered your joint hands with your other one, sealing them together. Sealing him to you.
“I’m sorry.”
You grinded your teeth to keep the tears at bay. Tommy kissed your shoulder, your neck. Silent, butterfly light kisses that kept you together.
“Okay,” you croaked, barely audible. Pulling his hand to your mouth, you kissed his callousness with tear-soaked mouth and placed it back against your chest. “Okay.”
Legs tangled, you molded yourself to his body as if he were the only thing standing between you and the demons that loomed over your back.
That night, you dreamt of soundless water. Of floating against it and being pulled under. Of being helpless underneath the surface.
You awoke each time, and Tommy lulled you to sleep with kisses and whispers of reassurance. It was a dance newly started, but you weren’t alone to dance it.
Note: If you enjoyed reading this fic do check out my other work by clicking on one of my masterlist links. If it’s not a bother leave a like, comment and/or reblog. It gives me motivation and lets me know that you liked what I wrote. <3
If you would perhaps want to read some of my work earlier, you can check out my AO3profile, I’ll always make sure to tell you guys when a fic is posted on there in advance!
Lastly, if you wish to be tagged under any of my future fics go to mytag list ! I no longer take requests through ask, dm, comments anymore. Once on my tag list post you’ll find a link to a Google Form that you have to fill out in order for your request to be valid! x
Requested:yes(x) Published:November 23rd, 2021 Pairing:Tommy Shelby x Daughter!Reader Prompt(s):none[my prompt list] Warning(s):none Word count:900ish Author’s note: Trying out a different approach (one I really like). Writing Tommy x Anything will be in 3rd POV from now on. Only romantic stories will be written with the reader as YOU!
A word of response hadn’t needed to come to give the maid a move, only a shadow of a dark clothed man breezing past the tall corridors of the mansion. She hurried out of the way with a nod, returning to her ever the same duties at hand. Tending to the kitchen, laundry, taking the snow-white dog out for a loo all awaited her. First comes the canine, she decided, because Mr. Shelby’s daughter loved it more than herself, and it felt humanely right to dot over a living thing before laundry.
Just as she would round the corridor did her masters voice reason, “Where is Y/N?”
His darling daughter. The maid fought the ghost of a smile that threatened to appear as she turned head and with a polite nod said, “In her room, sir.”
Tommy’s head bobbed once to show he heard, and then he was fully out of view. First his shoulders disappeared and then the ends of his charcoal coat.
Somehow, a man as dark as himself on a mission to see his little girl did not alarm her. Did not make her feel as though she should be around to act as a shield to the child.
Only burnt toast and talking to the coppers could get her fired.
Along with thinking that he could ever lay a hand on the joy of his world.
His daughter.
The dog barked once. Twice.
Then she too was wholly out of view, her skirts a billowing force behind her.
***
“Y/N?”
The light was a dim feature in the room, barely enough to help one get around, but enough to help read the room.
Tommy’s heart quickened in a way it didn’t all day. A way not possible unless linked to his little girl. He swallowed, then asked the air again, hoping for a childish answer. “Y/N?”
For one, the room was in utter chaos. Sheets all over the floor, stuffed toys out of the box and near the unlit hearth. The mental catalog ran true in his brain as he searched for the one living thing, he cared about but came out empty.
He clamped one hand roughly against the sheets on the bed and pulled, revealing only silky emptiness. He grabbed a stuffed teddy bear almost the size of his three-year-old and threw is across the room. He walked over to the toy box lit by the moonlight and roughly opened it, hoping to see his sleeping angel inside but came out empty-handed. Tommy slammed the box closed and when wood met wood a sound so loud and heavy reasoned through the room until it was only his shallow breaths that were left.
Alongside a soft gasp of a child.
Tommy spun around, clear, blue eyes as wild as the wind howling outside, and felt a weight of a chest so heavy it pulled him down lift above him until there was only clarity of the moment.
There she was.
Underneath the fortress of stuffed teddies and tangled sheets, small eyed and tired. She rubbed at her eyes groggily, but when her eyes met with those of her father’s, she beamed and stretched out her arms like wings. “Papa.” She said, and Tommy’s heart melted in the purest way.
It took him two steps to have her in his arms, “Come here, love.”
But she shook her head and pushed at his chest, refusing to nestle into his warmth. She pointed one small finger toward her mass of forts in the shelves and on the floor. “Here, here.”
Tommy heaved a chuckle, but settled her nevertheless. “Yeah?”
His daughter grabbed his finger in her hand and pulled, “With me.”
“I don’t think there’s enough room.”
In answer, she grabbed her stuffed bunny by the ears and threw it as far as she could with her small arms and so little true strength. There was even less space than it was before she did so, but Tommy could only smile as he settled down with her, removing his coat and shoes before gracing the floor and grabbing a big pillow off her bed. He settled it behind her back until she lied comfortably atop it. Then watched her drift to sleep peacefully, at peace because he knew he was there beside her and no one could take her from him.
Then the door creaked open, and he switched his weight until he could see who loomed through the crack. The corridor was heavy with cold, but it was soon that a small ball of fur as white as snow barreled through the gap and settled beside Tommy’s side.
The maid that brought the pup peaked inside, her face warm and impassive. If she was surprised to see him, then she didn’t show it. “Anything I can do for you, Mr. Shelby?”
Tommy grabbed the puppy with one rough hand and settled him beside his daughter, watching as it snuggled beside her and went dead to sleep, too. Then he turned to the maid and shook his head as a no, but under the influence of so much warmth and love, his words accompanied his gesture for once. “No, thank you. You go get some sleep, Millie.”
Millie nodded solemnly, and closed the door behind her, grateful to be acknowledged by her boss, even if it were for the shortest of seconds. Even if it were because the darkness in him subdued because the light his daughter provided was too strong to be fought against.
She was his castle of safe harbor.
An anchor that kept his wounded soul together.
Note: If you enjoyed reading this fic do check out my other work by clicking on one of my masterlist links. If it’s not a bother leave a like, comment and/or reblog. It gives me motivation and lets me know that you liked what I wrote. <3
If you would perhaps want to read some of my work earlier, you can check out my AO3profile, I’ll always make sure to tell you guys when a fic is posted on there in advance!
Lastly, if you wish to be tagged under any of my future fics go to my tag list ! I no longer take requests through ask, dm, comments anymore. Once on my tag list post you’ll find a link to a Google Form that you have to fill out in order for your request to be valid! x
Requested:no Published:November 5th, 2021 Pairing:Tommy Shelby x Female!Reader Prompt(s):none[my prompt list] Warning(s):none Word count:2.4k Author’s note:Someone commented on Ao3 that there “could have got a flash back to that night of them being together and her leaving “ and I competely agree, so there is one thing you must know before reading: I was waaay more into writing about horses and racing and training and all that fun jazz and making y/n a professional and sophisticated baddie (it’s what prompted me to write this in the first place lol) than her and Tommy WHOOPS! That idea would’ve been so spicy though! Maybe next time!<3
“Isn’t he absolutely wonderful?” You beamed, the question not even needing an answer as your words drowned in the myriad of applauding voices. The presenter’s voice could be vaguely made out, but one thing was clear to all:
It was your horse that brought it home.
“Fat Joe came through alright?”
You laughed a jolly laugh but gave your close friend a push in the shoulder, looking at him for a fraction of a second before turning to the muddy racetrack. “He is not fat Philip. He is perfect. Bravo Joe! Bra-vo!”
Your friend chuckled, matching the quick pace of your claps to his. Another victory this is for Joe, another mark in his journey. A medal of honor, and flowers to match.
It wasn’t about the money for you. Horses were your whole life. For some they passed as the most leisure of activities, but you made a name for yourself in it. Quite a quick start you had, as a duke’s daughter. Money flowed, allowing things one can’t even imagine. All in favor of the horses you had in your possession. A winning streak at only three and twenty of age.
You smoothed out your skirt and smiled at the cameras that flashed beneath.
Philip Clark was your racing manager and a close friend, and it was with him that you took your horse back to the estate where the magic had first happened. Clapping awaited Joe, people who gave as much as you did to make sure he is in his best form stood at the front gate after he came back from his win.
“How old is he now? Four?” Asked Philip even though he knew the answer.
You smiled as your hands patted his silky, black coat. He was calm, Joe, now that he was in the safety of his stall. Able to breathe in his winnings. “He’s not there yet, but yes he’s very close to four.”
“You ought to retire him now Y/N.”
“Retire him?” You furrowed your brows, “But he’s in his prime.”
“That’s exactly why I think you should do it,” Philip encouraged, walking around the stallion to meet you. His gloved hand matched the rhythm of your own and he began to gently stroke the gallant warrior. “Life as a stud would do him good with the track record he has. And you too. Think of all the money.”
You scoffed, “Believe me, money doesn’t tempt me.”
“It should,” stated Philip. “Joe’s the best middle-distance horse in Europe. Owned and trained by you. He has a column in the newspaper every week. He’ll bring in thousands of pounds as a stud.”
“That is quite true,” you rocked on your heels and eventually gave in. “But we need good candidates. Calm, gentle mares. Joe’s skittish sometimes.”
“Or maybe he needs a strong-wielded mare,” your friend said instead, his voice laced in unspoken truths. He peeled himself away from both you and Joe, making a dash for the exit. “Like any man in his right mind.”
Your laughter followed him out, “He’s a horse Philip, not a man!”
“Men are horses too sometimes! It’s hardly a different thing.”
And that was that.
***
“He has a reputation, my lady.”
“I find that I have no problem with that,” you replied to the employee, and turned to Philip for advice. “Is Mr. Shelby’s mare any good? Her color is wonderful. I see great temperament in her too.”
“Yes, yes she is.”
You nodded and turned to observe the mare again, but your eyes followed her owners. Across the dirty path stood a group of men, clothed as darkly as Joe’s midnight coat, looking all but excited to be here. At the front of the group a man rested with his gloved hands clasped at his front. The hat on his head shielded most of what looked to be a strong jaw and hidden blue gems for eyes. Quite handsome if one looked better under his hat. But demeanor wholly different from the filly that was prancing around, enjoying the attention. She had the strangest pallet of colors, but they all complemented each other well. A fine mare, and you wondered if she would be a match for your winner.
You would not let the aloof behavior put you off. These men should be grateful for your agreement.
“And her trainer?”
“May Carleton.”
You wolf whistled, sold on the arrangement. “Wonderful,” you said with a nod. “I’m sure she’ll make a fine candidate. But I should like to speak to her owner first. Make sure we are on the same grounds. I heard there was a fiasco at the Derby last year. It makes me wonder how the mare fares.”
“Yes,” agreed Philip. “She did make a solid placement.”
“What is her name?” It felt foolish to ask it now when the horse had already gone. When one meets the other, names are the first thing exchanged.
“Grace’s Secret.”
You casted your eyes on the front man, wondering if there is a meaning behind her name.
As if he knew, he lifted his chin from the ground and glanced at you. Indeed, his eyes were a shade of blue you have yet to see but so beautiful all the same. His eyes went over your styled hair and the shawl that covered it from the wind then over the fitted dark green vest, down to the tips of your knee-high, polished to perfection riding boots.
Yes. There is definitely a secret there.
And the mystery made you place one foot in front of the other and ask him to take a walk with you.
***
“Townsend Joe?”
“Yes,” you replied as a matter of fact, willing your bones to calm. “It is what I get after letting my nephew name him. But I think I quite like it. Makes for a fine brand.”
The two of you were two willowy dots by the fence looking over the field that became somewhat of a playground for horses. Townsend Joe relaxed idly and nipped at the grass here and there. The sugar cubes wrapped in a handkerchief waited in your front pocket. You dug your hands into the pockets of your trousers and dared not to look at the man beside you.
His warmth seeped through your clothes, travelling and warming you up. Thomas paid no mind to the way it made you feel, man’s proximity, and if he did then he was great at not showing it.
“I don’t doubt it.” Was all he said, drawing out a cigarette. His gloved hand offered you one, and you shook your head.
“My father’s a smoker,” you said. “Wouldn’t dream of catching his cough.”
Tommy chuckled beside you but drew a breath nevertheless. It’s his own demise. Smoking.
Your chipper voice mixed with wind as you continued to talk names, “And you? What secret lies behind Grace’s?”
“One not worth telling.”
Men and their simple answers. It came as no surprise that you enjoyed Philip’s company so much. He spoke his mind and littered words all over the person he spoke with. Yet your heart raced with men of few words. It always did. And it always will.
He has a reputation.
That was supposed to be a warning.
It did quite the opposite.
“You will find it Mr. Shelby,” you began after taking in a deep breath of the damp air, “that we tell our stories in the names of our horses.” You turned to look at him, catching those ocean eyes in your own. They were curious. Tempted to know more. “Alas, not in the case of Joe but perhaps in other. He is, after all, not my only horse.”
“You train them all, Mrs. Y/LN?”
“Miss,” you corrected him with a polite smile, and turned to the field so he wouldn’t see your rose-stained cheeks. “I don’t make a habit out of training. I own quite a number of them. Joe was a gift from my father-”
“The duke.”
You chuckled, albeit warily. He said the title with a bitter undertone. “Yes, the duke. I highly doubt that frightens you.”
Then you looked him over, your eyes like lasers into his, pinning him in place to prove a point. “I don’t think there are many things that scare a man like yourself.”
His gaze made you breathless and had you feeling like you were the only woman in the world. Above you, the sky turned into a gray hue, though not gray enough to showcase rain, but enough to enhance the black in his clothes and paleness of his features. “Your father gave you the horse?”
You swallowed and spoke with the weight of his eyes still on you. “Gifted yes, and I raised him so it felt right to train him too. Philip helped me of course, but it’s hardly an effort to deal with numbers don’t you think?”
“You trust him?”
The question took you aback, “Of course I do. He’s my closest friend.”
“Is he?”
“Mr. Shelby such cryptic words will get you nowhere,” you told him and tug your tongue in your cheek, shaking your head. “Especially not in this business.”
“I’ve been faring quite well.” He said and took a casual drag.
“As arrogant as your horse,” you noted. “I wonder how fun it must be for May to work beside you. She is after all your horse’s trainer. I, on the other hand, am here to allow your dam a quick roll in the hay with my sire. You plan to race the yearling?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Well, I hope you do,” you said, suddenly irritated by the man. “Joe’s had a fine career. So has your Grace.”
Your words had meaning. Your Grace. That was a plan wrapped in silk to get out a reaction. How well you executed it told you his knowing eyes and the smirk that tugged at his lips. “You think something will come out of it?”
Your calm air broke at that, “Why are you here Mr. Shelby?”
“Tommy.” Was all he said in return.
You shook your head like he was crazy, “I will not call you that.”
“Thomas then.” He seemed to settle on that.
“Mr. Shelby-” You wholly turned to face him, the lapels of your west almost brushing against his. It took you by surprise, the proximity, because he was not so close before. You swallowed, dared not to look at the lips he drew sinful smoke with, “Thomas…whyareyou here? I’d trust a man who came all this way to breed his filly would know what to do with the horse that will come out. Is there perhaps a secret agenda you’re following? Whyever-”
“Do you remember me?”
You took a step back. Remember?
Do you remember me?
Why would-
“You.”
Suddenly anger flared in your veins, overcoming your senses like a fog. You turned on your heel, ready to leave him be. Facts came rushing back, accompanied by foul memories and wicked flashbacks. That one night in the great city of London.
You repeated yourself.
He knew about Joe. Knew about him being a gift.
He knew and stayed silent.
Why? To see how you act out of sheets? To see how you look adorned in work clothes?
You didn’t get far before feeling pressure on your swinging writs. One hard pull and you were against a chest you scratched with your nails senseless.
“Look at me.”
Your eyes were closed, and you didn’t even realize.
He repeated himself again after you shook your head. Then you felt his voice against your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck. The way his hand curled around your waist while the other one stayed shackled around your wrist. Your breathing turned shallow, goosebumps erupting on your silky skin. “Do you think of me as a fool?”
“No,” Tommy said.
You yanked your arm; he didn’t let go. “Then why are you doing this? Humiliating me? You think this is a joke? Is this your twisted trick at getting me into your bed again?”
“I don’t need tricks to get you in my bed Y/N,” he replied, voice laced with truth. “Why?”
You heard the unspoken extension of his question.
Why did you leave?
Why did you leave him alone in the bed and sneaked out like a shadow with only your clothes in hand? After a night spent in the sheets, where he took you over and over again, why did you leave? Why not stay?
“I don’t do meaningless sex Tommy.” It felt weird to say it out loud. “That night…I wasn’t myself. I needed…”
Silence.
“I needed to let it go.”
“Did you?”
“No,” you admitted. “Far from it. I had a taste of something I cannot have. Besides, I didn’t even tell you, my name. How did you find me?”
“When I want something, I find it.”
“And why do you want me?”
You move backward until your back is pressing hard against the fence. Tommy stops only when his face is just a few inches away from yours. This up close, he looks even more handsome. His pale skin. Sharp jaw and slight, almost invisible stubble. Dark eyelashes framing blue eyes, the color of ice.
The air sizzles between you. There is no mistaking the look of pure possession in his eyes. Only the sounds of your breathing and distant galloping of Joe’s legs are heard in the air. He’s like a shadow, eating you up until there is nothing but him. “Because you want me too.”
Then his lips took yours. Rough and commanding, knocking out air from your lungs. You’re taken back to that dark London night, the club and the blinging chandeliers. To the dark hotel room where you came with ecstasy over the course of an entire night.
You forgot how alive his hands made you feel. How blinded with lust his lips made you feel.
When you pulled apart, you buried your hands into his coat and asked, keeping your voice light and even, “You are still planning to go through with the arrangement? Joe’s quite taken with her.”
Tommy’s chuckle followed a question, “Philip?”
You looked at him, “What about Philip?”
“He’s loves you.” He said the information as if he was talking about the weather.
“But I’m not in love with him.”
It seemed to settle the storm in him. You kissed him once more, loving the way his lips felt against your own and grabbed the ends of his coat, urging him to follow. “Come. I promise you that I won’t run this time.”
Note: If you enjoyed reading this fic do check out my other work by clicking on one of my masterlist links. If it’s not a bother leave a like, comment and/or reblog. It gives me motivation and lets me know that you liked what I wrote. <3
If you would perhaps want to read some of my work earlier, you can check out myAO3profile, I’ll always make sure to tell you guys when a fic is posted on there in advance!
Lastly, if you wish to be tagged under any of my future fics go to my tag list ! I no longer take requests through ask, dm, comments anymore. Once on my tag list post you’ll find a link to a Google Form that you have to fill out in order for your request to be valid! x
I know this is random (believe me it is) but I’ve written a Tommy one shot completely out of the blue today. I really enjoyed it idk I hope you will too! SUMMARY: Working with horses is what you deemed yourself good enough at to be able to make a living out of. But your all-star champion needs to retire while he’s at his best because it’s a smart move on the business side of things. He’ll do you good in other departments, and with a small twist of fate bring back someone who you’ve long since forgotten about.
I have posted this already on Ao3 (this is only a snippet from Word) and you can go check it out N-O-W. ☛ click here
Summary:they met, fell in love and built a family. But some things aren’t meant to last.
Warnings: mentions of war
A/N:this is for @retromafia ‘s celebration! Congrats again, darling❤️. It’s inspired by “Longest train I ever saw” - Joan Baez. It’s a bit short, but I hope you like it
It was a misty morning when (Y/n) met Tommy Shelby. She was sitting in a field, enjoying the cool breeze flowing through her hair, when a young man - who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere - fell off his horse right in front of her.
He had bright eyes, and a mischievous smile that foreshadowed all of the trouble he was capable of causing.
The line of sheer light was narrow. Birds were singing a delicate serenade of love and war. Branches of lonely trees swayed back and forth in the rising wind. An uncommon silence ruled under the roof of the mansion. The world had stopped and the waves no longer screamed in agony.
Imagine helping to calm Tommy when you find him after a nightmare or when his PTSD is acting up.
(Inspired by https://youtu.be/f_FkM0S-PgY and the fact that helping Tommy through episodes of his PTSD would 100% be a part of being with him and I think it needs to be addressed. Also yes I did this this with trigger warnings just in case.)
Imagine confronting your ex Tommy when you run into him out at a bar out with your best friend Ada who is trying to cheer you up after he left you and finding out he still has feelings for you as a result.
this is just a quick little idea I’ve had flitting about in my brain. I’m sure someone’s already done something like this before, if so let me know! And if anyone knows what colour Ada is please let me know (I’m thinking sort of like an Alice blue/silver?)
Summary: The shelby sister associates her brothers with colours.
Warnings: mentions of blood, implied poor mental health (for Arthur)
***
Tommy is her Navy Blue
At first glance his darkness seemed to swallow the world, collecting light and joy like trophies and spitting out misery to take their place.
That was to the residents of Small Heath, but to his sister, Tommy’s darkness was a source of comfort and of safety.
Like the depths of his long dusty coat, Tommy’s arms could wrap her up in the warmth and stillness only he could provide. Like a den similar to those of the rabbits burrowing by the cut, Tommy’s darkness carved out a home to keep his family safe.
He was blue, not like the ice in his eyes, but like the midnight sky. He was a cover of darkness shielding those below him from the harm and horrors exposed by the light of day.
He was the peace of village fast asleep, the calm before the storm of a busy morning
He was the star-studded night that weighed with the promise of a brighter tomorrow.
Arthur is her Red
Those of Small Heath only see the red of his face flushed in anger and of the blood coated fists. To them he is the red cloak that sends the bull running.
But his sisters eyes only catch the pink embarrassment rising in his cheeks as he stumbles though a rushed apology, the ruby glaze that clings to his skin, hearty chuckles hurried along by malted veins.
His red is of love, rather than hate, of life rather than death.
His red is of healing, the only fights are internal, provoked by the demons who clung in the crevices of his mind.
Arthur is rosy like the blush of gentle love, Ruby like the fiery passion to protect his loved ones and crimson like his port-flushed veins which will the demons to settle their own bloody tempers and allow him just a minute of sleep.
John is her Green
He’s fresh like the beginnings of spring, his own birth gifting his sister a fresh start as an older sibling.
He’s spontaneous and playful like sprouting springs in the spring sun
He bounces back after any adversity just as the leaves regain their rightful place in the tangled tree branches after a harsh winter.
He’s emerald like endless possibilities and jade like the luck on his side as he conquers new adventures.
But he is also the calm of Oak, strong and wise beyond his years, knowing just what to say in any situation.
He’s the gentle breeze that tempers heated flames, the dew that soothes aching skin.
John is green like an expanse of meadows, waiting with open arms to catch you when you feel you can’t go on.
Finn is her Yellow
He is golden like sunshine, his smile breathing life into those who feel wilted by responsibilities.
Finn is honey, smooth and sweet with a wry smile that makes him practically impossible not to love, even if his sticky fingers bring trouble to your doorstep in the form of Sergeant Moss’ inquires into a recent spate of sweet shop robberies.
He is the butter that holds the family together
And just as certain as the sun will rise, Finn will always be there to brighten dark days.
Summary: With the weight of unspoken truth dragging him down and after gaining some encouragement from an unlikely source, Alfie finally tells Annie he’s in love with her.
Loosely inspired by: “What’s worse, telling you my feelings or to die without revealing that you crawled inside my head and set a fire there instead? Letting all my insecurity devour me with certainty.” - Halsey, Ya'aburnee
Word count: 5,000
A/N: My first in a series of misc. pieces about these QTs! Basically a 3-chapter one shot but I haven’t written on here in literally years so it’s how we rollin’.
–
Alfie Solomons was not a man who held his tongue, and each syllable he spoke was accented with deliberate cause. He liked that his rivals expected more out of him from just violence, that any battle with him would inevitably be a battle of wits. He relished the way his words shifted the very air in the room, wielding just as much, if not, more, power than his threat of his bullets and fists.
Bearing this in mind, it surprised him greatly, then, when he found he couldn’t manage to choke out three specific, simple words to Annie. Any time he came close to it, fear clawed at his guts, and he held back, cursing at himself in frustration every time.
“A spineless fuckin’ cunt you are, mate. How many men have you cut, killed, murdered, tortured, fuckin’ butchered, yeah? And yet, here you are, afraid that the shriveled remains of your blackened heart will break if you tell this woman the truth. Because how the fuck could she ever love someone like you, back, hm?”
The war inside him raged on for months and months, and now, with Callum gone, he found he was yelling at himself more and more to tell Annie every day—but still didn’t do it. But the longer he kept his mouth shut, the worse he felt, an increasingly unbearable weight pressing against his rib cage.
So, Alfie Solomons did what any lovesick Jewish boy at the end of his rope would do: he decided to talk to his mother.
Alfie sighed and settled himself in the cozy armchair in the corner of his study, lighting his pipe. He inhaled and turned his attention to the side table, looking out at a small black and white portrait nestled right beside his Tanakh.
“Привет, мама. Desperately need some help, I do.”
Alfie fiddled with his pipe as he leaned his head back on the chair, blue eyes still intently fixed on the picture of his deceased mom. “I bet you and your angel friends have been havin’ a right fuckin’ laugh, watchin’ me agonize over this Irish Gypsy woman. Man plans and God laughs, innit?”
In the flickering light of his pipe, he swears the portrait of his mother smiles at him. The corner of his mouth turned and he sat for a moment, lost in his thoughts and the smoke. When he spoke again, he was quieter, more subdued – but his sincerity was just as pronounced.
“But I know it’s real and that’s what matters, yeah. And I know that’s what you’d be telling me, to listen to this thing in my chest here.”
Alfie paused, rubbing his temple with his free hand.
“That bein’ said, I am still properly conflicted on if tellin’ her is the right thing. If I do and she doesn’t feel the same, which is most likely, on account of me bein’ me, yeah it’ll all go to shit. I won’t ever see her or that beautiful fuckin’ face anymore, hear that laugh. Get to make her laugh.“
His voice went even quieter, speaking more to himself in earnest. "But there’re times I see her and she just gives me thislook, and I can’t fuckin’ read it but I can feel it, something there between me and her. And I keep comin’ back for it. If there’s even a chance …”
His brow furrowed, ring-clad fingers roaming through his beard.
“Look, I know I am destined to glide right to the front of the queue for the fiery pit of the damned, but I’m sure you’ve got some powerful holy mates up there. Ones who would let ya send some kind of sign down to your kid, tellin’ me what I should do about Annie.”
He gestured vaguely, and the sound of his bracelets clinking together echoed around the vast room.
“Things of love and goodness and all that are more your domain than mine, yeah, so I am asking you to take the reins here.”
He sat in silence for a few moments, a slight smile on his face as he nodded toward the picture.
“I think you and her would’ve got on well, yeah. Right. Спасибо, мама.”
Alfie extinguished the pipe, groaning slightly as he stretched up and walked down the hall to his bedroom. It’s quiet except for Cyril’s snores in the corner. He laid down with his hands under his head and stared at the ceiling, trying not to think about how he’d feel if Annie was next to him.
–
After a night of uneasy sleep, Alfie was in no mood for anyone’s shit at work. Ollie immediately sensed it and gave him a wide berth, placing a solid five feet of distance between them as he gently dropped some papers on Alfie’s desk–something to do with the latest of Tommy’s schemes.
Alfie grunted and went to wave him away, but stopped when Ollie stammered out:
"And there’s a woman here to see you, Mr. Solomons. It’s not Annie.”
Alfie dragged his hands down his face, resisting the urge to smack the younger man.
“I fuckin’ knew that, didn’t I, ya silly boy, since you would’ve otherwise just told me An was here.”
“Sorry.”
“You don’t need to fuckin’ apologize, mate, just try to use even a fraction of the brain ya got for a change.”
Ollie stood frozen until Alfie finally lost patience and smacked his hands on the desk, causing Ollie to jump.
“Well, go on then, send the mysterious lady in!”
Ollie nodded and scurried out the door as Alfie sighed, muttering under his breath as he took a sip of the Earl Grey on his desk.
“Fuckin too much to ask for a shred of intelligence these days, innit.”
He heard the sounds of heels clicking down the hall and his attention shifted, curiosity stirring inside him. And then he saw Annie’s older sister come through the door, and his curiosity was quickly replaced with dread.
“Fuckin’ hell, what does this ghastly woman want?”
Mutual dislike read plainly on both their faces, but Alfie adopted a cheerful tone anyways, raising his tea cup in a mock salute.
"Mags! You must be lost, sweetheart, payin’ us savages on this side of town a visit, eh?”
Mags shook her head, her cherry-red lips in a thin line as she surveyed the cluttered room with distaste.
“I’m not lost, Alfie.”
Alfie leaned back in his chair, bouncing slightly as he kicked his feet up on the desk.
“Hm. Well good, that’s good. Then I don’t feel bad tellin’ ya that I am, despite your many comments around the subject, a businessman, Mags. And a fuckin’ busy one at that. With very important things to do.”
To drive home his point, he grabbed the stack of papers off his desk and dropped them back down. He grinned as Mags clenched her jaw, clearly doing her best to hold back some smart remark.
“So tell us why you’re here or kindly get out of me office, yeah?”
Mags turned her gaze on him and when she spoke, she took the normally unflappable King of Camden Town by surprise:
"I need to talk to you about Annie.”
Alfie dropped his feet off the desk as his stomach dropped. His cocky demeanor was gone, immediately replaced with anxiety.
“What’s wrong, is she alright?”
Something in Mags’ cold glare lessened, and she sat down as Alfie stared back, unnerved.
“She’s fine,” she replied calmly. She fished around her purse and pulled out a cigarette container and match, offering the case toward Alfie, who shook his head. If Annie was alright, then what in the whole wide world of fuck was Mags here to talk about?
“Suit yourself.” Mags lit up, taking a grateful drag between her manicured nails. She sighed, pointing the cigarette toward him.
“I’m here because someone apparently needs to talk some sense into you. So,” she paused, exhaling a deliberate stream of smoke toward his face and grinning as his fist closed on reflex.
“Play nice, mate. She’s holdin’ the cards right now.”
Alfie grabbed his tea, doing his best to appear disinterested, even though he was dying to know what she wanted to say about Annie.
“I would like to know when you are planning to tell my sister that you’re in love with her.”
Alfie choked, his careful composure gone in an instant.
"Fuckin. Hell. The sign. MUM SENT A FUCKIN’ SIGN.”
He continued to cough as he reached for his handkerchief, very aware of Mags’ eyes trained on him. He took a deep breath, rearranging his features into one of (mostly) polite confusion.
“You what?”
Mags rolled her eyes.
“My sister. Annie.” She held up her hand. “About yay high, lovely green eyes, runs a little cafe across town.” She stared at Alfie and repeated, “When are you going to tell her you are in love with her?”
Alfie leaned back and interlaced his ringed fingers, his brain whirring. Had he really been that obvious?
“You are always hangin’ round Annie like a lost dog, mate, someone was bound to notice.”
Still, Mags loathed him. Had made that perfectly clear on any occasion they’d run into each other at Annie’s cafe. And while he could normally decipher anyone’s motives, he couldn’t piece together why the hell she’d be asking. So, he took his best guess.
“You tryin’ to prevent that from happenin,’ Mags?“
“On the contrary, Alfie.”
For the second time that day, Alfie was dumbfounded. It must’ve read clearly on his face, too, because Mags laughed.
"Surprised? That makes two of us.” She took another puff of her cigarette before ashing it in the tray on his desk.
“Look, I may not like you, Alfie, but I love my sister.” She leaned forward slightly, and Alfie was further shocked to see the ghost of a smile on her normally serious countenance.
“I’ve seen the way you look at Annie, how you just melt around her. Like she’s your own little piece of heaven.” She paused, seemingly waiting for an objection, and continuing when Alfie didn’t raise one, reeling internally from this unforeseen turn of events.
“I know you’d do anything to take care of her and make her happy. And she didn’t deserve to bury her husband, what she deserves is to be with a man who loves her just as much as Cal did. And as much at it physically pains me to say this, Alfie, I know that’s you.”
Her smile grew more pronounced as Alfie just sat there, rendered speechless for one of the few times in his life.
“My guess is that you didn’t want to tell her while she was married, and I have to give it to you, that was surprisingly honorable.”
Mag’s tone turns more businesslike, more like the Mags he’s come to expect.
“But Cal’s been gone for nearly 4 months now, and all the Irish mothers have started sending in their young, handsome sons now that she took her ring off. If you want to be with her, it’s now or never.”
She shook her finger toward him. “And don’t even try denying it, her entire kitchen has a betting pool going on about when you’ll finally ask her out.”
Well, she had him. Alfie drummed his fingers on the desk, weighing over his options. And he decided his best one was honesty.
“You don’t hear me contradicting you, do ya?” Alfie ran his hands through his hair. “But Mags, it is fuckin’ fanciful that she’d want to be with a bastard like me, innit. You and I both know that An is so far out of my realm, she should be,” he waved his hands toward the door, “in fuckin’ Wales, right.”
“True.”
Alfie threw his hands up.
“So what the fuck are you doin’ here tellin’ me to go after her?”
Mags shook her head, looking at him with something akin to pity.
“You really are daft. Do you think I’d be here in this shithole if she didn’t feel the same way about you that you feel about her?”
“Fuckkkkkkkkkin hell.”
If Alfie’s pulse wasn’t racing before, it sure was now. He wouldn’t put it past Mags to lie about this, but the way she spoke before … Alfie was good at reading people, and he knew she was sincere. But he needed more.
"Well, every man, he craves certainty, Mags, yeah,” he said slowly, hoping she’d give him enough to stop the doubts that had assailed him for months.
"Well, I am certain that my sister is in love with you.” Her tone softened again. “Tell her how you feel, and she’s yours.”
It would have to do. Alfie nodded, a grin breaking out across his face.
"You are actually not tryin to completely fuck me on this? Genuinely.”
Mags sighed.
“No, Alfie, I am not trying to fuck you on this. I’m looking out for my sister and her happiness.” She shrugged. “Even if it doesn’t make sense to me.”
“Huh. Well then, I will end this little chat of ours to pick up the pieces of brain that just blew out the back of me skull.” Alfie mimed his head exploding as Mags rolled her eyes.
"Always a pleasure.” She stood up, snapping her bag shut and shifting it onto her shoulder. “Now, you go on over there today so I can stop seeing you two dancing around your emotions like bloody teenagers. And don’t breathe a WORD of this interaction to her. She doesn’t need to know I had to intervene to get you to grow some balls.”
She turned to leave and was almost out the door when Alfie called her.
“Mags.”
She turned around and he raised his cup to her again, this time with sincerity.
“Thank you.”
She smiled back.
“Good luck, Alfie.”
He waited until he heard the echo of her heels fade before he stood up, pacing. He clapped the heels of his hands together, his bracelets jingling.
“Now or fuckin’ never, innit?”
He took a long exhale, chuckling to himself as he looked up at the ceiling.
"Always were direct, weren’t ya, mum?”
He grabbed his coat and hat from the corner and tipped it on before roaring out the door:
“OLLIE!”
He heard a door slam open and hurried footsteps along the corridor, Ollie peeking his head into the office like he was expecting a grenade to be tossed back at him.
“What do you need?”
“Relax, son,” Alfie clapped him on the shoulder, smiling at Ollie’s look of bemusement. “We’re just goin’ to Annie’s.”
And with that, he took another deep breath and the pair of them exited his office.
–
Alfie knew Annie would be closing up soon, which he was counting on to get some uninterrupted time to talk to her. It could be difficult to get her full concentration sometimes — she was always moving, always chatting, always daydreaming about something. And while he normally loved watching her whirl around, today, he couldn’t risk her missing a word he said.
Fortunately, the place was empty when he came in, except for Lily cleaning off tables.
She looked up as the doorbell jingled and smiled, continuing to wipe the tables down.
“She’s in the back.”
“Thanks, Lil.”
Heart pounding in his chest, he walked the familiar path back to the kitchen, letting his fingers hover for a moment on the swinging wooden door before he walked through.
And there she was. Her back was to him but he could picture the look of concentration on her face, biting the corner of her lip just slightly as she piped neat lines of frosting on a tray of pastries in front of her. As usual, her sleeves were rolled up, her dark hair twisted in a French braid over one shoulder. She hummed to herself, absorbed in her work, pausing only briefly as she turned at the sound of Alfie’s footsteps.
And there it was, that smile and that glow in her eyes that had Alfie hopelessly, relentlessly smitten.
“Hey, you.” She turned back to the tray, placing the last finishing touches. She set the piping bag down and wiped her hands on the front of her apron, motioning for Alfie to follow her.
And he would. Anywhere at all, to the ends of the earth to hell and back.
“This is perfect timing, I was gonna call tomorrow and tell you I needed my favorite authenticity judge to come down here.”
His heart swelled at the word favorite. She said he was her favorite. Fuck, he really was a goner.
“That so?” Alfie grinned, watching her cut off a piece of what looked like a freshly baked blintze, the inside teeming with bright berries “You playin’ round with more Jewish recipes?”
“Mhm.”
“Honestly, love, you might as well convert. I can just imagine the look of horror on the bubbes’ faces of being outbaked by a former Gentile.”
Annie laughed and Alfie melted, exactly as Mags described.
“How ‘bout I don’t ruin their lives, hm?” She placed the dessert on a plate and as she reached past Alfie for a fork, she brushed against him, the light contact setting his nerve endings on fire.
“Now shush and taste.” He nodded and took a bite, eyes closing as his taste buds took in the tart berries, the sweet cream, the familiar doughy but not too doughy roll.
“It’s good, yeah?,” Annie asked happily.
“Really fuckin’ good.” He pointed his fork at her. “A culinary magician you are, Annie Murphy.”
She beamed and took a mock bow.
“Thank you, thank you. So, what’s up?”
Alfie paused and took another bite of the blintze before he replied, doing his best to appear casual, even though he swore Annie could probably hear how loud his heart was beating.
“Just wanted to see if you had a minute to chat.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Just me and you.”
“Yeah, ‘course. Is everything ok?”
Alfie could’ve died at the concern in her voice, her desire to make sure he, this mad lone shepherd who had led 35 lambs to slaughter, was safe.
“Yeah, ‘m fine, love.”
Annie nodded, her look of concern turning to one of slight confusion. She hoisted herself onto the counter, legs swinging slightly.
“What’s goin’ on?”
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare back out now, mate.”
Alfie took a deep breath and started to speak, his tone much gentler than usual.
“Right. You probably don’t remember much ‘bout the day we met, ‘sides my storming’ in here wantin to kno-
“Know,” Annie cut him off and cleared her throat dramatically before giving a spot-on impression of him, “why the fuck a Jewish woman was working at an Irish fuckin bakery on this side of Camden?!” She grinned. “And then when you realized it was an Irish-Gypsy woman, how an Irish-Gypsy woman learned to make such proper 'fuckin’ challah.’ Hard to forget that, yeah?”
He chuckled, his nervous hands roaming to the chain on his vest as his tone softened.
“Right. But you know what stayed in my head the most? How you didn’t even flinch, ya just stood there and gave me that, that, smile right there, yeah. Too beautiful for words. Said if someone could braid hair, they could braid bread. You made this grumpy ol’ bastard laugh, and you kept doin’ it. So I came back. Kept comin’ back.”
He stopped and drank her in for a moment, this woman that stole his heart when he didn’t think it could be done. The way the stray, dark wisps of hair that escaped from her braid framed her face. How her apron hung tight against her hips. The exposed skin near her collarbones where her soft shirt tugged to the side. The lone streak of flour on her cheek. And of course, those stunning, jade-green eyes that were currently locked onto his, making him forget how to breathe.
“Fuck, she is a dream.”
Alfie’s tore his gaze away from Annie’s and started to pace, matching the rhythm of his heartbeat.
“And then I said to myself, “Alfie, what is this peculiar sensation you are now experiencing?” Like there was some type of drumming goin’ on,” he tapped his temple and chest, “right here and here. And I just thought, ‘Well, we all know you’re touched in the head, so it’s probably just another symptom of our inescapable and utter madness.’ Left it at that.”
“But then I discovered something most interesting over the next few months: that this thing, this feeling, right here, yeah, only happened whenever I saw you. A type of madness reserved solely for the inimitable Annie Murphy. So what could possibly be a diagnosis for something like that, eh?”
“Alfie.” Her voice was quiet, but he pressed on over the interjection. Now that his thoughts were finally tumbling out in earnest, he couldn’t stop them.
“I’m almost finished, love. Right, yeah, so once I realized that it only happened ‘round you, Miss Annie, I knew I was fuckin’ done for.” He laughed, his hand going to the back of his neck. Said, “Alfie, mate, you realize this feelin’ you are carryin’ for this exquisite creature, who is very happily married, mind you, is not going anywhere, it is now an eternal fixture permeating your entire being.
This was it. He paused, feeling his heart reverberating through his bones, and when he dared to look up, Annie was staring right back with a lookthattold him to keep going.
He stopped pacing and looked at her head on.
“What I am tryin’ to fuckin’ say is that whatever remains of this thing in my chest, yeah, it belongs to you. Because I have been in love with you for a very long time, An. Now, you do whatever you fancy with that bit of knowledge, right, but I just needed to finally say it. Out loud. To you.”
One second, two seconds, three seconds, pass and feel like an eternity of silence that Alfie physically can’t take, so he rambled on.
“The alternative of continuing to keep me mouth shut would mean I would have to shoot my balls off because I wouldn’t deserve to keep them. Especially if I ended up seein’ you with one of those fuckin’ handsome little Irish lads who’ve sprung up here like daisies since you took your ring off. So, yeah.” He rocked back and forth on his heels, desperate for some way to shake out how exposed, how vulnerable he felt. “That is that.”
Dread, brutal and blinding, was now coursing through him. Fuck, did she try to cut him off before to stop him from looking like a complete idiot? Her silence spoke volumes to him, this was clearly a colossal fucking misjudgment on his end. What the fuck had he expected, what did he deserve?
“Yeah, time to go, you daft fuckin’ cunt.”
“Right, I will take your silence as you bein’ too sweet to tell me to fuck off, so, I’ll get out of your hair then.”
Annie immediately jolted out of her reverie.
“No, no, no! Don’t go.” She slid herself off the counter, and Alfie was convinced he was going to have a heart attack from this continuing vacillation between fear and hope.
She smiled. “Sorry, I was just … processing. And I still have a hard time knowin’ when you’re done monologuing.”
Then, she was there by him in an instant, close enough for her to wind her hands in his. His eyes met hers with an unspoken plea, practically begging for validation, and he didn’t even care. Because he needed to hear her say it, would burn the world to ashes if it meant he could hear it.
And he did.
“Alfie, I love you too.” His fear finally fell away and he had to remember that he wasn’t dead and this was real — nothing would ever feel this good, this pure, in the afterlife he was destined for.
She was so, so close to him, and he just breathed her in like a drug, warm bread and sugar and something like wildflowers, unmistakably Annie. HisAnnie.
She loved him.
She smiled, a playful note at the edge of her murmur, echoing his own words back to him:
“Do whatever you’d like with that bit of knowledge.”
Pulse alight for all the best reasons, Alfie dropped her hands so he could cradle her face.
“Right, then.”
They crashed into each other, the months of tension palatable in every frantic and tender touch. His lips against hers and the feel of her grin from the soft moan he made when her hands knotted in his hair, tongue sliding past his teeth. He grabbed her hips and it was his turn to smirk at the pretty little gasp she made against him before kissing him even harder. Fuck, this was it, he was in a categorically underserved heaven on Earth.
Until Lily walked through the door.
“Annie, that nut Mrs. McGinnity is out front wantin’ to change her son’s cake again, do you want me to- oh shit, I am SO sorry!”
Annie reluctantly pulled away at the interruption and as Alfie rested his forehead on hers, he was pleased to see her breathing was as labored as his.
“It’s fine, Lil, I’ll be out in a few, yeah?”
“Course!” The door of the kitchen smacked shut, and the two of them dissolved into laughter at getting caught making out like a couple of kids.
“Fuckin’ hell, love.” Alfie traced Annie’s jaw with his thumb and she caught his hand, her eyes trained on his as she brushed her lips over his tattoo, sending goosebumps across his flesh. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wantin’ to do that.”
“Well, it’s a relief on my end too.” She pressed her lips back to his again, more gently this time. “I’ve been going fuckin’ mad over here, keepin’ this from you.”
Alfie nodded, still floating in the surreal, dizzy state that seemed suspiciously like happiness.
“Yeah, I know what that’s like, don’t I.”
But then, he noticed Annie’s gaze shift and his heart sank, because those startlingly green eyes were now brimming with tears.
“Hey, hey, An, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, really nothing,” she laughed and simultaneously made a noise of frustration, placing the heels of her hand against her eyes and bringing them down again. “I just. I know I’ve been all over the place since Cal died. And uh, it felt like things would never get better, but they have been. And you had a lot to do with that.”
The corner of her mouth lifted at the same time a solitary tear rolled down her cheek, which Alfie stroked away.
“I’m just really happy you wandered into my life, yellin’ your head off about bread.”
“Fuck, Annie, c’mere.”
He pulled her into his arms and she immediately burrowed into his chest, and they stayed like that for a few moments, tangled in each other’s warmth. He pressed his lips to her hair and felt her sigh in contentment, drawing a smile out of him.
“Well I’m glad you’re happy because you’re stuck with me now, ain’t ya?”
“I’m not complainin,” she replied, her voice muffled slightly against his shirt. He pulled back and gently lifted her onto the counter, relieved to see her smiling again.
“There she is.” His tone resumed its normal confidence and he grabbed Annie’s hands in his. “Right, now that we have settled this whole exchange of mutual feelings, yeah. I am takin’ you on a proper fuckin’ date. Wherever you want.”
“Oooh.” Annie drummed her fingers against her lips, thinking. “Let’s do Wilton’s. But fair warning, I’m planning to nick their toffee pudding recipe. Do you know how many people come in here askin’ if I make it like them?” Her eyes widened and she shook her head with a giggle, simply the most adorable thing Alfie had ever set his eyes on. “I’ve just been sayin “yeah,” but I haven’t the foggiest. It’s gonna ruin my street cred.”
“Nah, can’t have that, can we.” He swung her hands lightly. “You want to investigate tonight, then?”
“I can’t. I’m babysittin’ Mags’ kids.” Alfie grimaced and Annie smacked his shoulder lightly. “Come off it, you saw them on one bad day. But I’m free tomorrow.”
“Right, I’ll come get ya ‘round 7.”
“Sounds good,” Annie replied. She wrapped her hands around his neck as she pulled him in for another kiss, only stopping when the sound of rising female voices drifted in from the front of the cafe.
Annie sighed. “I gotta go take care of that.”
Alfie pulled out his watch, matching Annie’s reluctance.
“Yeah, I gotta head off and meet Tommy.” It was the last thing he wanted to do, to step away from the thrill of her touch, her adoration, this temporary respite from the jagged edges of his life. He hadn’t even left, and yet he couldn’t wait to get back to her again.
He grabbed her hand and kissed it, savoring the way her eyes lit up in response.
“See you tomorrow, then, yeah?”
“Mhm.”
Like any addict desperate for one last fix, he kissed her hungrily, letting her hands trace over his beard and the scarred flesh before he forced himself back, hands clasped against her shoulders.
“Fuck, I cannot get enough of you.” He moved toward the door. “Right, I’m leaving, actually leaving.”
He had one hand on the wooden fixture when Annie called out:
“Alfie.”
And he whipped around so fast he nearly fell over, catching himself on the edge of the wall as Annie tried and failed to hide a massive grin behind her hand.
“Yeah, pet?”
“I love you.”
And he knew in a thousand years or a thousand lifetimes, he would never get tired of hearing her say that, or saying it to her.
“Love you too, An.”
He walked through the doorway and practically skipped his way through the rest of the cafe, still humming as he breezed past an agitated Lily and the even more agitated Mrs. McGinnity.
He strode out into the sunlit street, smirking slightly as he saw Ollie immediately stand up straighter from where he was half-slumped against the car. And before Ollie could even open his mouth, Alfie walked straight up to him and kissed him on the head without a word.
He got into the driver’s seat and rested his head against the steering wheel, a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration coursing through his veins as snippets of his conversation with Annie bounced around his head.
He had done it. He had finally told her.
“I love you too, Alfie.”
He heard the passenger door open gingerly and Ollie slid in, and he could practically feel the apprehension radiating off him.
“Are you feeling ok, Mr. Solomons?”
Alfie sat straight up and Ollie started as he clapped him on the shoulder, putting the car in drive.
“Course I am, dear boy. Just a beautiful fuckin’ day, innit? Just lovely, simply lovely.”
Alfie grinned, one hand on the wheel and the other clutching the star pendant that dangled from his neck. Knowing Ollie wouldn’t hear him over the roar of the engine coming to life, he took a second to whisper two much-needed words of gratitude.
Summary: Alfie never expects things to go smoothly. He doesn’t expect his date with Annie to go so incredibly well, and he definitely doesn’t anticipate her wanting to go back to his place. But he’ll take it just the same.
A/N: Um this took forever but I’m pretty dang happy with the end result! *self five* Title from the song of the same name by The Used. “We could take our heads off, stay in bed and just make love, that’s all … And I’m melting in your eyes, like my first time that I caught fire. Just stay with me, lay with me. Let’s sleep ‘till the sun burns out.”
—
Alfie always had a back-up plan. Usually, at least 3. To succeed in his line of work, you had to not only accept that things would go awry, you needed to know how to pivot seamlessly when they did.
The downside to this constant state of vigilance was that it bled over into his life outside of the criminal underworld, forever waiting for the other shoe to drop when things felt too quiet. Too good.
So, it was only natural that as he knocked on the door of Annie’s flat to pick her up for their date, bouncing the sunflowers he brought against his thigh, he was steeling himself for one of the following worst-case scenarios.
A) There’s no response at her door. Plan: Pick the lock, go in, and see if she’s with another man. If so, tell him that if he hurts her, the Wandering Jew will cut his balls off and have him watch as he feeds them to stray dogs. Exit immediately. Go shoot something or someone. If Annie isn’t home and there are signs of a struggle, burn Camden to the ground until he finds her.
B) She answers the door BUT says she changed her mind. Plan: Say he understands, leave, and go shoot something or someone. Drink copious amounts of the rum he “never” touches. Cry?
C) She answers the door and has not changed her mind. Plan: Try to not have a goddamn nervous breakdown in front of her because holy fuck, when was the last time he went on a date, and would Annie actually have a good time, and did the blue vest Edna told him to get actually look ok or did he look like a cunt, and -
And then she opens the door, and he stops worrying about his head going to shit, because his whole body promptly stops working. Was this what people meant by lovesick? Dizzy and feverish and incapable of rational thought, incapable of focusing on anything other than her luminescence. There she is, beaming at him in a sparkling black and gold short-sleeved dress with matching bracelets and heels. It’s the first time he’s seen her with her hair untied, and all he wants to do is run his hands through those dark, silky waves.
By some miracle, he manages to pull himself together, breathing out the first words that come to mind:
“You are fuckin’ radiant, love.” He presses the flowers into her hands, and she inhales happily.
“You’re sweet.” She steps closer until she’s practically against him, her green eyes scanning, drinking him in. She smiles, running a hand down his chest, and Alfie feels like his veins are tangled up with power wires.
“And you clean up very, very well yourself, Mr. Solomons.” She kisses him and Alfie kisses her back, the tiniest part of him nudging, pleading to, for once, trust that things can stay this good. To trust her.
She puts the flowers in a vase and as she takes his hand in hers and leads him out the door, he finally feels like he can exhale. And he tells his doubt to politely fuck right off, if only temporarily.
Remarkably, it works. At dinner, he just gets lost in her, in how easily their conversation flows, in their game of imagining backstories for other patrons.
“That couple at the bar there lookin’ like they’re ‘bout to fuckin’ poison each others’ drinks, yeah, you have got to ask yourself, An: did he sleep with her sister or her best friend?”
“Nah, their maid. His wife fired her when she found out, is now without a cook and won’t do it herself, so he brought her here in a feeble attempt at reconciliation — and so he wouldn’t starve.”
“…. You are a fuckin’ genius, An.”
“Cheers, love.”
She’s as effervescent as her champagne, bubbling and brimming with life and laughter that fills up the dark and hollow spaces in his chest. And that buoyancy sustains him, nourishes him even more so than their lavish dinner.
Buckwheat blinis just like his mom used to make, vessels for the salty, sinful caviar that Alfie justifies to a thoroughly amused Annie: “If ya squint in this light, yeah, it’s just like scales on a little fish. Proper kosher, then, innit?” Succulent lamb with crisp potatoes and a vinegary cucumber salad, delicate lemon sole alongside fresh asparagus with creamy hollandaise.
And, of course, the fabled toffee pudding Annie is dying to investigate. “There’s fuckin’ whiskey in it, no wonder my drunken Irish brethren all fancy it!”
Alfie can’t remember the last time he felt so at ease, this peaceful. When they finally get up to leave, a quick look at his watch reveals that three hours have flown by, and he smiles. The King of Camden and his beloved queen, together in their own little realm. And he’s desperate for it to continue, to stay in this paradise just for a second, a minute longer with her.
His wish is granted as she tugs his hand, guiding him through the warm August air to walk alongside the winding Thames, where the glow of the street lamps reflect like golden sparks. They fall into a comfortable silence, lulled by the current, by the magnetic pull that keeps their hands, their bodies, close together.
And it’s a good thing he’s got one arm slung around her shoulders, because her heel catches on a crack in the stony path. He steadies her as she yelps and tilts toward the dark waters, shaking his head.
“Easy there, love. It’d be my fuckin’ luck, wouldn’t it, takin’ you out and you catchin’ your death in the bloody Thames.“
“Dunno why you’re worried, I’m incredibly graceful.” Her lofty tone doesn’t mask the grin in her voice.
“Pet, I watched you walk right into a fuckin’ door last week.”
"Only because you distracted me!”
"And I am not the least bit sorry, yeah, because it was one of the funniest fuckin’ things I have ever seen in my miserable life.” He kisses the top of her head as she huffs. “Kinda cute too, seein’ ya lose focus over me.”
Annie rolls her eyes, lightly checking him with her hip. “Shut it.”
“Why dontcha make me,” he replies, brushing his lips against her ear.
And she does, stopping abruptly and pulling at the front of his vest as she kisses him, deep and warm and intoxicating. She is the taste of toffee and champagne and home, and Alfie clings to her, letting her flood his senses.
Annie breaks the kiss and her eyes are embers.
“I don’t want to stop.”
“So … don’t,” Alfie replies, his brow furrowing slightly with confusion.
She shakes her head, framing Alfie’s face with her hand. “Let me be more clear.” Her voice is quiet yet confident, every syllable dripping with honey and molten fire. “I want you. Allof you. Yeah?”
Alfie’s eyes widen slightly, and Annie smirks, sending his hair on end as she traces his jawline lightly with her nails. He catches her hand in his and squeezes firmly.
“First order of business, love. I am categorically fuckin’ keen on the idea, make no mistake.” He exhales deeply. “But the tiny part of my soul not yet utterly consumed by complete fuckin’ darkness feels compelled to emphasize that there is absolutely no expectation of you rushin’ into anythin’ with me. That said, I am properly thrilled to devote myself wholeheartedly to studyin’ the noble fuckin’ art and science of bringin’ you pleasure.” His tone softens, brushing her hair behind her ear. “But there is no pressure, yeah?”
“I know. But I’m sure. Just like I’m sure how I feel about you.” She tilts her head slightly. “But categorically fuckin’ keen, huh?” A sly grin spreads across her face, and she punctuates her next sentences with slow, searing kisses that cause Alfie’s head to spin.
“So, you can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. About me. In bed. With you.”
“I could but I’d be a fuckin’ liar, then, wouldn’t I?,” he replies, his breath hitching slightly. He puts his hands on her shoulders. “Annie, you are absolutely sure-”
She cuts him off, rolling her eyes. “C’mon. Your place is closer.”
“Right.”
He grins and grabs her hand once more, but this time, instead of a slow stroll, they hustle across the busy cobblestone streets together.
–
Alfie unlocks his door and is immediately met by Cyril, who quickly pushes his owner aside to greet Annie.
“Cyril! I missed you, my sweet boy.” Annie’s laugh echoes throughout the house as the massive dog jumps on her, pinning her against the wall with a barrage of slobbery kisses.
With great effort, Alfie heaves Cyril off Annie, grumbling.
“Come off it, you daft dog.” He gets down at eye level with the bull mastiff, who is unmistakably pouting. “Sorry, mate, my woman, not yours.” Cyril continues to stare and Alfie sighs, reaching into a massive bin in the corner to pull out a well-chewed bone, and Cyril decides that all is forgiven. “There ya go, that’s a good lad, getcha treat and trot on.”
Once Cyril lumbers away, Alfie stands up and strides over to Annie. “C’mere, you.” He picks her up easily and she locks her arms and legs around him, dipping down for an off-kilter kiss.
He carries her down the hall to his bedroom, his heart thrumming in his ears as she untangles herself from him and slides onto his bed. He plops down right next to her, bracelets clinking as he cups her face with his hands.
“Fuck, you are beautiful,” he murmurs, placing his forehead on hers. He kisses her deeply and their bodies connect, his hands sliding down to hold her waist as her tongue meets his own. He’s so alive and so in love, so completely dumbfounded as to why God decided to offer a man like him a woman, a goddess, really, like her.
He starts tugging the bottom of Annie’s dress up and she shifts to her knees, helping him guide it off and over her head. Alfie’s breath catches at the sight of her, swathed in scraps of dark silk and lace. His eyes dance across her, transfixed.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he exhales. “You really are a vision, An.”
His rough hands trace across her arms, smattered with burn marks and taut from the labor of kneading and carrying, from transmuting stress and grief to the boxing bag in her basement. But the rest of her is so, so soft, and his hands linger on the curves of her breasts, her hips, her ass. Every part of her he’s privileged to caress sends blazing heat straight to his gut, his cock. He is reverent in this new religion he’s discovered, worshipping at the altar of her sacred form.
His awe-struck reverie is suddenly broken when, her eyes smoldering into his, Annie unfastens both clasps of her garter belt. It’s a simple, subtle motion, and Alfie can’t explain why it sets something off in him, but he doesn’t care. Because now he’s tackling her flat against the mattress, and she’s crashing back into him, and the fire tethering them to each other is the only thing in the world that matters.
It’s frantic and slow all at once as his brain tries to keep up with all the separate sensations. His tongue dancing with hers and her teeth sinking into his neck, his hands ripping the delicate lace off her chest, watching her nipples harden as he grabs at her breasts, sucks hungry kisses along their curves.
All the while, Annie’s fingers fly through undoing the buttons on his clothes, tearing them off him. And when she glides her hand across the tip of his cock, gathering his precum before she starts pumping him, he can’t stop the groan and obscenities that fall off his tongue, utterly powerless under her touch. Fuck, does this woman, his woman, know what she’s doing.
“I can’t wait to feel you in me,” she says beneath him, using her free hand to massage his balls. It takes all his concentration to just not cum right there on her pretty tits, knowing full well he’s nowhere near being finished with her.
“I want a taste of you first.“ He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband of her panties, and she lifts her hips, letting him strip her bare.
"Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs, sliding his ring-laden fingers through Annie’s pooling arousal, relishing the elated gasps she gives when he draws circles on her clit, pushes two fingers into her and pulses.
"This all for me, love?”
“Uh huh.” She nods fervently, biting the corner of her lip.
He stares hungrily at her as he fucks her with his hand, adding a third finger and feeling his cock grow even harder at the way Annie’s walls clench around his digits. He’s entranced by how desire physically transforms her. The color rising to her cheeks, her half-parted lips, the little moans and mewls she gives as she grinds against him. Fluttering emerald irises that give way to a greater expanse of black as her pupils blossom with lust and pressing need. For him.
He suddenly stops and he chuckles at her groan of frustration. He sucks his fingers clean and trails a line of kisses down her inner thigh, wrapping his well-muscled arms around her legs to hold her in place as he begins devouring her. She whines with pleasure as his tongue deftly licks and swirls through her folds, and she grips his hair in her fist.
She isn’t shy and Alfie loves it, her hips bucking against his mouth: “Fuck, Alfie, yes, oh my God, right there.” It just turns him on more. He’s got her spread apart with his fingers, sucking directly on her clit, when she abruptly tugs his head up, her tone alight with wildfire.
“Get in me. Now.”
For once, Alfie doesn’t have a smart reply. He just works his lips back up her body, watching the goosebumps rise on her flesh.
"You want this, love?” he murmurs in her ear, drawing the head of his throbbing dick through the wetness between her thighs, lining himself up at her entrance.
“God, yes, I want you.”
Lust and love burn through him as he enters Annie slowly, eyes rolling back with a groan as he sinks deeper and deeper into her, her nails clawing into his biceps when he bottoms out. He stays still for a moment, giving her a second to adjust to his length and giving himself time to savor the unparalleled feeling of her enveloping every last inch of his hardness. It’s indescribable how good she feels and being able to be fully one with her.
He blinks open and there she is, her gaze burning right through him, and he pulls back and starts thrusting into her steadily. Their hips and moans and praise come together in a delicious rhythm, a sinful cacophony that Alfie wants on full-blast repeat until the end of his days.
“Alfie, fuck, you’re amazing.”
“You are perfect,” he pants, fucking Annie’s tight, soaked core with increasing ferocity. “Fuckin’ made for me.”
He stays on top, drilling her intro the mattress, until she murmurs beneath him, pleading.
“Let me be on top.”
He acquiesces immediately, shifting her into his lap, and they both moan in pleasure as she starts riding him.
“You feel so good. So good to me.“
“That’s right, love. Look how fuckin’ gorgeous you are, takin’ my cock like that.”
“Please keep talking.” She is unashamedly begging, and fuck, is it hot. He smirks, lowers his husky tone and starts playing with her nipples, absorbed in watching her come undone.
“You just love bein’ filled up with my big cock, don’t ya, An? Stretchin’ out that perfect, wet lil’ cunt of yours. Now, be a good girl and tell me who you belong to.”
“You, Alfie. ‘M yours.”
"Fuckin’ right you are,” he growls back, hands smacking against her ass, causing her to gasp with pleasure as she continues gliding up and down his cock. Her nails dig into his shoulders, back arching as he shifts one hand to her clit, and Alfie grunts as he feels her tight walls clench around him further.
“Oh my fuck, Alfie, you’re gonna make me cum,” she whimpers.
“That’s right, that’s my fuckin’ girl, show us how much you need us, An.” His fingers grip her hips as she rides him desperately. “Let me feel you cum all over my cock, love.”
“Oh, oh, Alfie, fuck, Alfie!” She cries out and she all but collapses into him as her orgasm rip through her entire body, spasming around his dick in release.
She slowly pulls back to face him with a lazy smirk, cheeks pink and her voice breathless with satisfaction, but still managing to purr.
“Your turn.”
He’s already lasted way longer than he thought would be possible, and now, all Alfie wants is to take his woman like a fucking animal. So, that’s what he does.
He shoves Annie down onto the mattress, pistoning in and out of her with an absolutely brutal pace. It’s a completely obscene soundtrack, his balls slapping against her, the sucking sound of her dripping cunt taking every last inch of his thick, rock-hard length, frenzied grunts and moans and profanities.
He hikes her legs around his waist and she instinctively locks her ankles on his lower back, letting him use the angle to drive down even deeper, harder, faster into her. His fingers seek out her own as he pounds into her core, and he knows this duality between carnal and tender, of being utterly consumed in every last hidden corner of each other, is going to send him over the edge.
That, and Annie’s crooning voice in his ear, her nails marking up the muscles of his broad back.
“Take what’s yours, Alfie. I love your cock inside me, you make me so fuckin’ wet, I love you so fuckin’ much-“
“FuckinhellchristfuckAn!”
Amid his stream of tangled curses and Annie’s name, Alfie pulls out just in time to finish on her stomach, chest heaving as he watches the warm, milky rivulets trail down her body.
Still catching his breath, he grabs Annie’s face with both hands and kisses her, pulling back with a grin.
“Fuckin’ hell, you are incredible, woman.”
“Likewise. I’m very, very much lookin’ forward to doing that again.”
“I do like the sound of that.”
He rolls off the bed with a slight groan, haphazardly pulling drawers open to find a clean handkerchief. He lays down next to Annie and gently cleans her off, tossing the soiled scrap of fabric to the side.
He brings her into his arms and as she nestles into his chest, he chuckles softly.
“What’s so funny?” she asks.
“Nothin’. Just properly fuckin’ delighted, ain’t I, by the fact that my sweet little Annie, Camden’s beloved baker, is also a filthy, dazzlin’ little minx.”
She grins, lifting herself up slightly to plant a kiss against his jaw before snuggling back into him. “What can I say? I’m versatile.”
He hums and kisses the top of her head, fingers tracing lightly across her back. He just lays there intertwined with her, the room in complete stillness save for the rise and fall of their breath. And it’s sweet and serene and safe, the complete opposite of what Alfie Solomons has come to expect out of the wicked world, out of himself.
“What’re you thinking? I can practically hear the gears turning ‘round in your head.”
He’s surprised that she doesn’t even need to look at him to sense something’s up, but decides it’s just part of the dual blessing and curse of being known so intimately.
He replies slowly, continuing to draw patterns against her skin.
“Honestly, An, I still cannot fuckin’ believe you are here with me, in my arms, in my bed, because you are a fuckin’ angel that I categorically do not deserve to be in the presence of. Let alone inside of.” His dry laugh morphs into a sigh, speaking more to himself than her. “Gotta be some kinda dream, innit?”
Suddenly, he feels a pinch on his arm, and he looks down to see Annie looking back at him expectantly.
“Anythin’ change?”
The corner of his mouth twitches and he shakes his head.
“Well, that’s settled., then. Not dreaming.” Her gaze is both soft and piercing, seeing straight through all of him, the light and dark. And yet, she stays.
Alfie feels himself melting, falling even further than he thought was possible. She taps the center of his hair-covered chest softly, then taps her fingers against her own. “Trust this, trust us, yeah?”
This time, his sigh is contented.
“I love you, Annie.”
“I love you too.”
They both fall back into the quiet, limbs tangling, and Alfie feels himself starting to drift into sleep, soothed by the warmth of Annie’s body against his. A warmth that transfers straight to his heart.
He shuts his eyes and finds his mind wandering back to just a few nights ago when he lay in this exact bed, unsure and alone, wondering what he’d feel like if Annie was next to him. Now, he has his answer.
Warning:Strong Language, Graphic Depictions Of Violence & Smut
Words: 3k
[A/N]: i’m baaack! Sorry about the lack of activity. Uni was a bitch and so were my exams but thankfully I am all done for this semester and I’m ready to continue this hot mess Tho in the meantime I became quite a hoe for Henry Cavill…so I might post a lil something about him
The icy crisp British air did wonders for Isabelle’s lack of enthusiasm and will-power. In the last couple of hours, all she did was sleep and control her temper enough to prevent herself from ripping Gina’s head off. All that while trying to keep the scheme ongoing and not allow Thomas to find out about their little secret that would surely escalate in the upcoming days which she would spend in the Shelby manor. To believe that only a few weeks ago she was despising the man she now does not want to let go…and has to most likely kill? To any outsider the whole idea of Gina’s would seem ridiculous, but Isabelle knew her well enough to know that crazy bitch was not messing around.
“You alright there, love?” Thomas’ raspy voice popped Isabelle’s daydream. It appeared she has spent the car ride from the airport to the Thomas’ home staring out of the window and thinking of a way to get out of that situation alive. Thomas however, did not wish to break her away from the window, thinking she was enjoying the view, considering it was her first time in this part of the UK.
She looked at him speechless for longer than necessary, causing a slight frown to appear between his eyebrows: “Yeah yeah, was just thinking.” she managed to let out while stepping out of the car.
“About what?” he questioned, closing the door behind her.
Once out of the car Isabelle’s eyes caught onto the glorious building in front of her. A large mansion, expanding on three floors with a Georgian exterior instantly caught the eye of the American girl. She was more than impressed. The recognisable clean elegance and swooping lines of the building mixed with the perfection of the garden left her bewildered. Despite the cold season, the garden is bright with colour, with beds of yellow aconites beneath Persian Ironwood trees that produce blood-red buds: “this.” she breathed out, her mouth partly opened. Her reaction earned her a chuckle from Thomas, who was soon there to pull her out of the trance and bring her back to reality.
“Come on love, there’s a lot to see.” he wrapped his arm around her lower back, guiding her towards the grand entrance of the mansion, which was mind you a double door over 5 meters tall.
“A double door? Really Thomas?” she looked at him with wide eyes, yet her expression showed a bit of sarcasm as to how much of cliché the house was.
With every step, she discovered things she only knew from movies and prude documentaries: from gilded eagles over the drawing-room windows to Chinese wallpaper and imposing Italian marble fireplaces in almost every room. There’s a large black and white hall that holds historic armour and weapons. The dining room is big enough to sit over 20 comfortably and around the table sits 22 Empire hand-embroidered chairs that were apparently gifted to the Thomas’ family by the Congress of Vienna.
“Oh you’re rich rich.” she pure shock and horror caused by the realisation of the true measure of Thomas’ wealth led her to have to lean against a wall for a moment.
“You could say so…” he smiled leaning closer to his girlfriend.
“Thomas, I feel like a peasant in front of the royal court.” her groans echoed against the high ceiling.
“Oh stop it,” he pressed his lips against her forehead, trying his best to remove the pout from her lips, “come on, there’s one more room I want to show you.”
After walking up the wide staircase made out of pure oak, they soon reached a door made out of the same massive wooden material like all the other doors in that hallway, yet Thomas only focused on that one room. The room appeared so big that in Isabelle’s eyes it could practically take over a whole floor of the house. A luxurious God-knows-how-many-square-feet-big-room featuring a large and fragrant bed, covered in various blankets and pillows, all made out of the finest materials. All the furniture made out of old oak wood or something similar to it, everything in darker tones of brown. Yet it was peculiarly characterless, no family pictures or any decoration that would make it look like someone lives there. It looked like a rather large spare room. The musk that usually followed Thomas wherever he went, the mix of cigarettes and whiskey, was opulent and sensual in that room. Despite the heating and the actual temperature being pleasant in it, it felt cold, bare.
Standing by the entrance of the room, Isabelle looked around, in hope to find something that would make the room stick out to her, but all she found was a turned picture frame, laying on his desk on the other side of the room. It looked heartlessly plain and it hurt her to think that he would shut down his feelings even in his own bedroom. She chose to change that.
While Thomas was already inside, looking around his luggage, Isabelle closed the door behind her and placed her own luggage aside. She made her way across the room to where her boyfriend was unpacking and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him upwards until he was around the same height as she was in her heels.
“Wha-” Thomas confusing question was cut off by her lips crashing against his in a hungry sensual kiss. Thomas’ eyes stayed open for a bit, unsure about the reason for her kiss, yet had no plans on pulling away from it. His hands let go of any clothes he was holding and were about to grab onto her hips, but she was quicker. She ceased the kiss and pushed him on top of the bed, against all the soft white sheets.
Isabelle climbed on top of him, straddling his hips: “What’s gotten into you woman?” his hands roamed down her sides and to her ass, squeezing it over her jeans.
“This peasant might as well become a mistress and splurge in all this wealth,” she smirked as she was undoing the buttons of his shirt but leaving the tie to hang loosely around his neck. The joke was corny and earned her an eye-roll.
Thomas’ eyebrows raised upwards, uncertain on how she came up with that idea, but he was never one to deny her sex. She sat up straight on top of his hips and circled her pelvis over his most sensitive area, over his jeans, making him groan out loud. Leaning down with a seductive smile on her face, she cupped his face with her right hand. Her left hand was trailing up and down his lower chest as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the kiss. Isabelle rested her fingers on his jaw, under his ear, as her thumb was placed under his lower lip, opening his mouth up a bit more. Their tongues collided in a battle for dominance which Thomas used to flip them around with him being on top.
“Been here for less than an hour and you couldn’t wait to jump on my bones.” commenting, he ripped the flimsy material of her shirt onto the floor. The dark locks of his hair from the top of his head already fell onto his forehead as he moved his body up to her lips. He kissed her rough and passionate, biting and sucking on her lips as the kiss got hotter. However, Isabelle was impatient and could not handle being the submissive type. Therefore, her body moved up till her elbows touched the big and fluffy white pillows, fighting for somewhat of a type of control. Thomas wanted none of that however and grabbed the lower part of her waist, dragging her back onto the bed while her hands were around his head, pulling his head into the.
She tugged onto the wooden rods of the headboard as he kissed down her chest, between her breasts which were covered with a black lacy bra. The muscles in her arms tense as he sucked down her stomach. Similar to her nakedness Thomas upper body became naked once he parted from her body to take off his shirt and threw it to the rest of the clothes. He looked back at her, sliding his body up to her face again before he kissed her passionately. Removing one of his hands, which were placed in her luscious brown curls, he placed them down her waist onto her butt. He squeezed it aggressively to which she smiled into the kiss. Such behaviour was uncommon to her a while ago, but since Thomas with time became more trustworthy to her, she could give in to anything he did to her.
Their lips parted just so he could kiss down her jaw, to her jawline and neck. He licked from her collarbone to her jaw, up her neck. Isabelle moaned sensually, dragging her head back against the pillows when she felt his hot tongue on her cold neck. While he was tasting her neck with his tongue, Isabelle was too busy undoing the button of his trousers. Her other hand slid over his stomach, making him shiver under her touch. To get a hold of some dominance in the situation, she slowly moved her hand over his already semi-hard member, rubbing softly up and down it. He was grinding against her, making it slightly difficult to deal with those trousers, but once she got them to open up and pulled the zipper down and reached inside, finally being able to take his semi-hard in her hand. Slowly her fingers began to run up and down his considerable length feeling it harden as she did. Thomas growled and broke away from her neck to look into her eyes. Her smirk was proof that she took over.
“Vixen,” he hissed under his breath, his hands moving away from her hot skin to get on with unbuttoning her tight ripped jeans and pulling them off her desirable body.
While he was busy getting rid of any clothing from both of their bodies, Isabelle used it to switch positions. She pushed him onto the bed once more, before he could reach for her bra. A groan was heard coming out of his lungs. Her body hovered over his with a naughty smirk on her face. Her hair was pushed aside, over one shoulder. She slid a finger down his chest, enjoying the warmth of his skin, the feeling of the scars and marks sorted all over his chest, each one of them another dark story he never wanted to tell, to the tattoo on his chest and to his stomach, down to the hem of his boxers. Removing her upper body away from his, she looked at him with fierce eyes. Giving in to one short peck on the lips, Isabelle went back to business by pushing his head back on top the pillow, giving herself better access to his neck.
Thomas closed his eyes, a relaxed grin pasted on his lips, while his hands were comfortably placed over her juicy ass, his fingertips playing with the hem of her panties, while she was busy kissing down his neck, searching for spots that would make him moan. The smile on her face never vanished as she kept sucking on his neck.
“Bloody hell, Izzy.” he sighed, his hands squeezing the soft skin of her ass. His patience was tested with every second in which he could not have her. The teasing, the foreplay, it was frustrating. Grabbing onto her waist, he spun them around in one swift movement and immediately he unclasped her bra, throwing that God annoying piece of clothing onto the floor. His mouth focused then on her breasts, licking the right breast, while he squeezed the other with his hand. He kissed all over the breast except the nipple which he ignored on purpose, driving her crazy. When he finally came to the nipple, he licked it. He repeated that to the other breast before both were hard and wet. Her hands busy playing his dark hair, tugging on it whenever he touched any of her sensitive places. She moved her hands down his neck, to his shoulders and to his deltoids and upper back. Thomas hunger continued to take over, he slid his finger straight into her panties and ripped them off her body. He then carried on down her body. Without any resistance, he parted her legs with his strong hands. Moving downwards until he was finally in the area he desired most at that time, he kissed up her legs, licking up to her inner thigh, playfully biting in it. As she placed her hands back into his hair, she moaned out loud, a bit too loud for his liking, considering his whole family was downstairs. He licked one last time at her thigh before looking at her wet mound a shiver ran through him.
“Bloody hell…” he moaned, using his long cold fingers to open her wet lips. She jerked in surprise and pleasure as his long tongue entered her and his thumb and forefinger began rubbing her clit. His tongue was exploring her pussy like it was the tastiest thing in the world. She could hear a low moan begin at the back of his throat, she placed her legs over his shoulders and placed her hands in his soft hair pushing his head closer onto her, his tongue was probing deeper now, and she felt like in a state of pure bliss. With every movement of his tongue, she felt like she was a step closer to heaven. Her lips parted, her eyes closed, head rested against the pillows. Gentle sighs escaped her plump lips, his name being mixed with various curse words. He would have playfully scolded her for using such language, but at that moment it was the sexiest thing ever. His eyes looked at her from time to time. The bare image of her falling apart by his touch made him even harder than he already was.
“Oh Tommy, fuck yes!” she screamed, suddenly he pulled his tongue out of her pussy and replaced it with three of his fingers and still rubbing her clit with his thumb, he bit down on her thigh. It was no aggressive bite, but it was enough to bring her to her climax. His tongue went back to her pussy just to lick up the cum that was now running out of her.
Her chest was rising and falling, breath hard and deep. The speed of her heartbeat almost scared her. Looking down at her lover, she noticed the wetness around his mouth, a small whine left her lips just caused by the image in front of her. Cupping his chin, she ordered him to come back on top of her. And as soon as he did that, she collected all of her strength and pushed him down on his back: “My turn.”
She had one hand in his hair the other slowly ran down his perfect chest down his perfect stomach, to his cock and then began running her hand up and down his incredible length. It was now Isabelle’s turn to make the man under her into a hot mess. And that began as soon as she rubbed up and down his length while running her tongue over the tip. She felt him shiver and looked up at him to make sure he was watching this time
Isabelle plunged her head forward taking his whole member in her mouth. He moaned, slowly at first as she began to move up and down his hard dick pushing her tongue against the tip every time, she reached the top. She picked up pace and while she was using her mouth to pleasure his dick, she used her hand to squeeze his balls just enough to make him gasp in ecstasy. He laced his fingers with her hair, pushing her head down to take more of him in. His kissable lips parted, deep breaths escaping them. The heat his body felt, was visible on his cheeks. A pink shade covering his usually pale skin. His eyelids were closed, yet all he wanted was to look at the angel taking him to heaven. British curse words ran out of his mouth, some familiar to her, some completely unknown to her American ass. He was close, she could feel his cock throbbing in her mouth and with a shudder, he came filling her mouth with his sweet essence. She swallowed down all he had given her and pulled her mouth back licking his cock as she went. She came again to face and kiss him, making himself taste his cum.
Her body collapsed on top of his, too tired to move any longer: “For fuck’s sake if I was married, I’d make you my mistress right away. That was fucking brilliant, love.” he chuckled, reaching towards the nightstand to grab himself a cigarette. She prompted her naked body on top of his, not bothering to cover them. While he lit himself a cigarette, Isabelle’s fingers moved over his chest, drawing unidentifiable objects.
She leaned her chin against her hands which were resting against his chest. Her lips placing a short peck onto his chin: “but you’re not married.”
“Not yet.” he chuckled, taking a long drag of his smoke, before blowing it above him. Isabelle stared at him in the meantime, biting her lip as her eyes focused on the lines of his face and for some reason even him smoking looked fucking irresistible, “you’re giving me that look again.” he commented, to which she frowned obviously confused by his remark, “the look in which you want to rip my clothes off, even if they’re already off.”
“Can’t help it when my boyfriend is fucking tempting.” she pouted, throwing him a doe-eyed look.
Thomas stared at her for a moment, a sigh leaving his lips. The next thing he did was to place the remains of his cigarette onto the ashtray near the bed. His fingers then reached down to grab onto the rim of the sheets, pulling them upwards, until it covered their whole bodies, including their heads. While he was doing so Isabelle grinned widely, rolling onto her side before wrapping her arms around Thomas. The two of them isolated themselves from the world and vanished underneath the smooth sheets into an exploration of their bodies.
Thomas ran his cold hand over his face, rubbing his temple with the tips of his fingers, trying to calm his nerves. His whiskey glass almost empty after such a short amount of time since he filled it. The desk was covered with paperwork but all he could think of is how Finn pissed him off and used his trust, just to get under some skirts of random American college girls. His brother did not prevent him in any way, yet Thomas was not angry at Arthur, just at Finn. He did not know if he could ever become a father, knowing he could react like that.
Finn was caught spending his college days smoking weed and fucking girls instead of attending his classes and focusing on his education. Thomas being the closest Finn could have to a father figure reacted like a father figure. He dragged his ass out of his dorms and grounded the hell out of him. However, Thomas feared it would be pointless and nothing could change that lazy ass of a brother.
Cursing under his breath, he chugged down everything that was left of the drink and tried his best to focus on his work, but he was soon cut off by a knock on his door. Not giving a fuck who it could be, he did not bother looking up. Much to Isabelle’s bad luck since she was the one who knocked. Carrying a take-out bag with food that was supposed to be Thomas’ lunch.
She knew that he probably overthought everything too much to have any time or will to remember to eat. Therefore, being the lovely girlfriend, she is, she decided to end his suffering or at least the suffering of his stomach and get him something warm. However, once she saw the state of his desk, she knew that food would not be enough to calm him down.
“The cute one’s here.” she chuckled, closing the door behind her and making her way to his desk.
Thomas’ eyes moved away from a contract, up to his girlfriend. She looked sensational in the matching blazer and skirt, her long legs completely nude, almost perfectly matching her nude heels. He pushed his chair away from his desk, and leaned back, staring at, checking her out from head to toe as she walked up to him.
Prompting herself on his lap, with her legs hanging on one of his sides, she rested the food on her lap. Isabelle removed the glass from his hand and placed it aside, before she leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips: “hey there, grumpy cat.” she spoke against his lips, earning a groan out of him as he kissed her once more.
“I guess you’ve heard.” she nodded her head and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Ada, I presume.” she nodded once more and eared an eye-roll.
“Oh don’t be like that, someone had to tell me, since my boyfriend would rather sulk with whiskey in his hand than tell me.” she could smell the alcohol on him, and she knew that the glass she removed from him was surely not his first, “That explains also why you did not reply to any of my calls yesterday.”
“I don’t know how my mother managed that boy,” he sighed, running his hand over his eyes, “wonder what she would do in this situation…”
“Do you miss her?” Isabelle asked, her fingers running softly over the back of his neck.
“Sometimes, whenever I have to take care of my siblings…whenever I see a child…” he stared straight ahead and not at Isabelle.
“How was she?”
“Comforting. She always knew what to say to cheer you up. But also a drunk head that never knew when to stop. She ended up going mad, probably because my father was a piece of shit that beat her.” Thomas scoffed, “if it wasn’t for him…”
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Isabelle stared at him with a worried look, genuinely curious about his history. She wanted him to open up to her.
He looked at her for a moment, searching for a hint of potential betrayal in them, but all he found was a bit fear and honest desire to know more. However, he was not ready to share such things yet and quickly changed the subject: “Fucking teenagers. He is so tedious, almost like you are.” Isabelle gasped and slapped his chest.
“I am not.” she kept her mouth open in shock. Instead of apologising he just laughed, and she raised her hand, ready to slap him once more.
“Yeah, more like bad-tempered, snappy and arrogant.”
Her mouth was widely opened as she heard him say that with a grin on his face: “well then, your arrogant EX-girlfriend got you some lunch so you don’t die from being such a dick, but she and the food will go find someone who will honour her favours.” she let out an insulted breath and got up, taking the food with her. But Thomas just rolled his eyes and grinned, pulling the brown-haired goddess back onto his lap, together with the food.
“Since I am apparently single now, my ex surely won’t mind I do this.” he cupped her jaw and pressed a long passionate kiss on her nude lips.
Raising her eyebrow as soon as he pulled away, she scoffed and rated his kiss: “Yeah, eh…I had better.” she looked away acting as if she was unimpressed.
“Oh, yeah?” Thomas raised his eyebrows playfully
“Yep.” she popped the letter p.
Thomas chuckled, pulling her into another kiss, this one much more sensual. His fingers slid between her locks, head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss. But as soon as she let out a small moan, he pulled away: “How’s that for better?”
Isabelle bit her lower lip, tugging on it slightly until it snapped back to its original position: “Much.”
“What did my not arrogant girlfriend get me for lunch?” he slid his hand down her back to her ass, fitting perfectly on the mound of her butt. He looked at her lap and at the bag on her lap.
Isabelle pouted at his teasing. He knew how to easily ruin any sexual mood they had going on, but only once he turned her on to the point where it frustrated her. Sighing, she gave up on any fun they could have and focused on feeding her boyfriend: “Hopefully the best thing you will have eaten in New York.”
Thomas was frankly interested in what magic she had in that bag. But as soon as she opened it, he could not hold back and let out a laugh. She bought him Cottage pie with a side of vegetables.
“Why are you laughing?” she whined, slapping his chest again, “we haven’t been dating for long and I actually do not know what foods you like or dislike…so I couldn’t really go out and get you your favourite. But since you’re British, I thought you’d like something British.” she took the container out of the bag, together with the cutlery, “the woman said it’s basically made up of minced beef with vegetables and gravy topped with mashed potatoes.”
“Cottage pie, love.” he adored staring at her face when she was confused, her nose frowning up together with the skin between her eyebrows, her lips pouting and her eyes focusing on the thing she did not understand.
“Yes! That’s it. Some kind of pie.” she nodded quickly, “though I am used to having pie as dessert, not as the main course.”
“Don’t worry, love. Once you come to Birmingham, you can try all the savoury pies you can imagine.” Even if it was probably just a joke, to even hear him considering taking her to the UK, caught her off-guard. Despite its comedic elements, the surprise in her face was clear only for a second, before returning back to its natural position. Thomas placed the container on top of his desk, once he moved all his paperwork aside. He took the fork and knife from her hands and tried the food. It was almost as good as the ones they made back home, yet it tasted better than any he had before, but not because of its flavour, but because the person who got it was Isabelle.
“Sorry if you don’t like it. I can bring you something else if you’d like. My lunch break is not over yet.” she looked at him while he was eating. But her statement made him return to his previous position.
He cupped her face once more and placed a sweet, gravy-flavoured kiss on her lips: “I love Cottage pie, almost as much as I like Sheppard’s pie. It’s the same thing just with lamb instead of beef.”
Isabelle grinned once she realised, he liked it: “Good to know.”
After a few more bites he leaned back and stared at her without saying a word. “What? Don’t stop on my account, I had my lunch already.” That was all it took, and his lips melted over hers, slowly moving in rhythm and thumbs rubbing circles on her thighs. It caught Isabelle off guard. When it comes to Thomas it’s often hard to tell what he is thinking at the moment. Sometimes she wondered what was going on in that genius head of his. How he jumped from Cottage pie to making out with her. Who knows, maybe Cottage pie turns him on?
Their lips moved in unison and she swept her tongue over his lips, asking for entrance when he obliged and smirked, she only slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. After some heated moments with their tongues fighting for dominance, they had to pull away to catch their breath. Isabelle wanted to go straight in for another kiss but was stopped by Thomas’ words: “Thank you.”
“If this is the thanks I get whenever I buy you food, I might come more often.” she gave him a half-suppressed laugh.
“No. Thank you for giving this a chance.” the back of his fingers softly slid over her cheek and she leaned into his touch right away. Now it was her turn to initiate a kiss. Grabbing onto the collar of his blazer, she pulled him in, pressing her lips against him but also using him for the balance so she could raise her lower body and straddle him. He groaned. His hands were sliding up her thigh, under her skirt, as well as under her shirt at her lower back. Isabelle moaned against his lips, grinding her clothed core over his own. Her fingers threaded through his soft, dark locks of hair and tugged, breath becoming more ragged by the second. His hand reached her underwear, squeeze her covered butt. She gasped, fingers tangling themselves deeper within his locks before finally releasing them to tug on the buttons of his shirt. Her nimble fingers toyed with the buttons, struggling to get them undone. As she was so close to undoing all of them, they heard a knock on the door and without any other warning, Finn came walking inside.
“Tommy, I came to-” he stopped in the middle of his track as he realised in what he just walked into. Thomas had no wish to fix himself or pretend like it did not happen. Instead, he just kept his hands where they were, leaned back against his seat and stared at his brother, while Isabelle hid in his chest. Unlike Thomas, she normally was not a fan of being caught doing something inappropriate. Once again, a Shelby brother walked in on them.
“-apologise, but it seems like you’re busy right now…so…I…will just come by later…” and with that Finn left as quickly as he came.
“Should have locked the door, love.” he pulled his hand out of her skirt and slapped her ass playfully.
“Mmm…not my fault your brothers always bust in like that.” she sat up straight on his lap, teasingly rolling her hips against him, as payback for putting her in such a situation. However, once she heard a groan escaping his lips, she began fixing his buttons.
“Guess no hot office sex today.”
Isabelle chuckled as she got up and fixed herself, to look presentable. “Maybe next time, when I bring Sheppard’s pie.” she leaned in and pecked his lips, before taking her bag and winking at him, “eat up grumpy cat.”
And with that, she left him by himself in his office, with a growing problem in his pants and an empty stomach, yet he did not feel like eating pie anymore. The thing he wanted to eat just walked out on him.
Warning:Strong Language, Graphic Depictions Of Violence & Smut
Words: 3.5 k
[A/N]:Merry Christmaaaas peeeeps~ it’s literally midnight where I live so it’s officially xmas. I promised to post like a lil xmas thingy, cause I got a request to do so. This is like the opening to the xmas thingy and I will elaborate and deepen it in the next chapter
A gentle smile appeared on his face and he asked: “come celebrate Christmas with me and my family in Birmingham.”
“Woah woah woah,” Isabelle pulled away from his gentle hold just enough so there was space between their heads on the pillows. Her eyes were searching for the joking core of his statement in his eyes, but all they found was genuineness, “you can’t be serious.”
“Am I laughing?” his gruff after sex voice replied to her statement.
Isabelle let out a shaky breath: “Thomas, I know the sex was great, but I surely did not fuck your common sense out.”
Thomas breathed deeply out of his nose and grabbed onto her waist again, dragging her chest back to his. He rolled onto his back and rolled her with him, allowing her to rest on top of his chest. Her hands were pressed against his naked chest, making sure her face still hovered over his with an intrigued frown between her eyes.
“You didn’t fuck my common sense out, love, maybe some other time. My mind’s clearer than ever right now. And I know I want you this Christmas with me.” his hands gently drew circles over her waist.
“Thomas, we’ve been together for only a few days. Don’t you think it’s too early for family visits and celebrating holidays together?”
“I know your relationship with Gina and her family isn’t the best and you clearly do not plan on spending time with them longer than necessary. I don’t want you to spend the holidays by yourself, drowning your sorrows in booze.”
“Let me get this straight, you want me to celebrate Christmas with you…in Birmingham?” her doubt was clear.
“I don’t want to stay abroad for weeks without having you by my side. Besides, that might damage this young romance if we do not see each other for so long.” the last part surely was a joke but due to Tommy’s orotund voice, it made it appear like he was deadly serious.
“Thomas, the holidays are still weeks away, we might break up until then.” she joked.
“We won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?” she leaned her chin on her hands resting on his chest.
“Because you wouldn’t risk not spending Christmas in Birmingham. A lot of pies for you to try.” she suddenly busted into laughter, Thomas following her by letting out a chuckle. Her hands moved up to his jaw, feeling the short stubble.
“Mr Shelby you’re overly cocky again.” her nose tenderly poked against his.
“Not cocky, just confident.” he corrected her, “now that we cleared that. Let’s get back to business.” Isabelle tilted her head but her wondering soon ended as Thomas rolled himself on top of her again, hands pinning hers above her head. She broke into giggles as Thomas groaned, his lips attached to her neck.
Their night continued as a steamy mess of flesh clashing, lips melting against each other and a mixture of moans and grunts. That could also describe their time with one another in general. Even weeks after they started dating Isabelle and Thomas were still head over heels for each other. Whenever their schedule allowed it they were together. They were desperate for one another, needy, touchy, but most of all horny like teenagers. Steamy office sex, lustful fucking on every possible surface of their apartments, risky sex in public. They felt like unripe kids, just needy for some relief. But the talks they had afterwards were about things no one else knew about them. She learnt more about Thomas in bed than he could ever tell her in public. His paranoia got the best of him. He never shared facts about his life or his past. Anyone could hear them and use it against him, and by telling Isabelle about it, he not only risked her getting hurt but also getting himself hurt. If she ever turned against him, he would be doomed. It disturbed him that he had to hide so much about himself, but his openness towards Isabelle made chills run down his spine.
But he did not care.
With every passing day, with every conversation he shared with her, Thomas fell more and more for that browned hair woman. She wrapped him around her finger. He would give her anything she wished for. However, she needed none of it. Having money and power for herself meant she needed no expensive gifts or luxurious trips. Her independence, her stubbornness and occasional arrogance intrigued him, pulled him further into her.
Isabelle had to admit that she loved every moment she spent with that mysterious man. She still heard little about his illegal business, anything that had to do with the dangerous parts of his past in Birmingham was a secret. But that was exactly what she needed to find out, due to the unfortunate circumstances in which she found herself.
She somehow hoped Gina would forget about the task she gave Isabelle and just move on with her life once she calmed down. But Gina did not calm down. Instead, she became more radical. Her wish to destroy and end Thomas grew bigger with every day. She was fixated on the idea that Isabelle kills Thomas, to the point that she demanded updates after every date with Thomas.
There was no sense in denying it. Isabelle was scared. On the one hand, scared of Gina and her infatuated mind, and on the other hand, that she would have to kill the person she actually cared about.
And with every day, Christmas came closer. The offices were filled with every possibly Christmas decoration, whereas the number of people working grew lesser and lesser. The weather grew colder outside, and the insides grew warmer, cosier.
Isabelle would not mind spending the holidays with Thomas curled up in some blankets with a cup of warm chocolate…or tea for Thomas. And the more she thought about the idea of leaving for Europe to spend some days away from work, New York and most of Gina. Despite the probable awkwardness of the family visit, being away from the toxic relationship would do Isabelle good.
The time flew and before she knew it, it was time to leave for the UK. It was the day before Christmas Eve and Thomas, together with his cousin Michael, were to leave. Arthur and Ada and everyone else left days ago, in need for a longer resting time and some time to spend with their partners before they would have to handle their whole family. Thomas picked Isabelle up with his SUV and decided they needed no driver anymore. Her excitement could not be contained. Even on their way to the private jet, Isabelle’s smile was never restrained.
That is…until she found out exactly what Gina saw in Thomas’ death.
As they stepped hand in hand out of the SUV, Thomas was greeted by his cousin Michael, whose arm was locked with someone Isabelle knew too well. The dishonest and ignorant face of Gina Claiborne. That wicked wench had a glued smile on her face, her body language giving out positive bubble gum blonde vibes, but her eyes showed her true face. A face Isabelle wished to punch and kill instead. The grip Isabelle had on Thomas’ hand tightened and she felt like she wanted to throw up. Thomas looked at her from the corner of his light blue eyes, noticing straight away something was up with her. After being with her for so long he could see right away if something was not going as planned for her.
She was never a huge fan of aeroplanes, but not to the point where she would die before stepping into one. However, that one time, she wanted to die before having to be in the same aeroplane as Gina and Thomas at the same time. She was more scared of what she would do to him, than what she could ever do to her.
“You alright, love?” Thomas’ deep, raspy voice halted Isabelle’s thoughts. She blinked quickly a few times, before turning her head towards him. His for the most part expressionless face stared at her back, but she knew that inside of those blue eyes was genuine concern.
“Y-yeah, just not the biggest fan of flying.” she threw him an awkward smile, her hands wrapping half-tightly around the strap of her handbag.
Thomas searched for any type of different answer in her eyes, but as soon as he got nothing, he just took her hand away from her purse strap and guided her towards the plane: “don’t worry, I’m here.”
Those words hit her slowly, as he guided her behind him towards the plane entrance. She stared at his back. They were enough to make her forget about the shit she got herself into and made her only focus on him, for at least a few moments.
Once inside the private plane, she sat on an empty seat next to the hallway, so she could, in case of an emergency run into the bathroom, or out of the door, depending on the emergency. With the phone in her hands, she tried to concentrate on other things, such as her business. However, that would be quite the task, considering that her best friend Gina decided to sit on the opposite of Isabelle, only a table parting them from one another.
Gina threw her a smile that perhaps seemed genuine to others, but Isabelle knew that it was fake just like she was. Isabelle stared at her with a stern look, her eyes probably shooting arrows at her. Though that fierce appearance did not last for long, because the Shelby men decided to join the two by sitting across from one another on the window seats.
Unlike Gina, Isabelle did not immediately throw herself around her man, but instead kept her cruel glare pointed at Gina. However, her flight fear still showed in the form of nail clicking and a jumpy leg. Thomas leaned his head against the palm whose elbow was resting against the window frame. He was not interested in the view outside, but rather kept looking at his girlfriend from the corner of his eyes. Not only did he notice the harsh looks, but also the symptoms of her anxiety.
He reached out and gently took her hand, causing her to cease her glares and look at him: “Come here.” he simply ordered and pulled her out of her seat, pointing her to sit on his lap. She threw him a confused look, but he did not give in. Instead, he pointed with his head for her to move. Rolling her eyes, she sat down, her back leaning pointing at the window, while her legs rested on the other side, towards the hallway.
She wanted to throw him a comment about their age and the ridiculousness of sitting on his lap but kept it for herself as soon as he heard him ask: “You ok?” he rested an arm on her waist for support.
Her face was only a few inches away from him and by the tone of his question she knew it was supposed to be a private conversation between them. Isabelle gently placed a hand on his jaw, cupping his face. Throwing him a small smile, she nodded quietly, before leaning her head against his shoulder, inhaling his natural scent, which seemed to calm her down.
Thomas’ other hand rested on her thighs as the one of her back gently stroke over her shirt. After a few moments, she threw a look at Gina who was leaning her head on Michael’s shoulder. Both of them were busy staring at their phones, yet Gina seemed to have noticed Isabelle’s stare and looked at him, throwing her a smirk.
Isabelle frowned at that and turned her head around, hiding completely in Thomas’ shoulder and neck, her hands wrapping around his chest, “I just wanna stay like this.” she whispered against his skin and he got the memo. Holding her close to him, he pointed out that she was safe in his arms and even if he by that probably meant the flight fear, at that moment she felt as if she was same from Gina and her schemes.
Soon enough, Isabelle fell asleep in her boyfriend’s arms. Not only exhausted physically but also mentally. But being wrapped in Thomas’ arms made it all go away. So, for the next few hours, she felt warm and protected from everything and everyone, even if that would not last for much longer.
After a very necessary nap, Isabelle slowly opened her eyes. Everything around her was much darker than she remembered, just a few lights on the floor and the ceiling gave any type of illumination. She looked around, noticing that both Michael and Gina were missing, and the stewardesses were gone as well. It probably meant that everyone went to bed and that it was already late at night.
Isabelle stretched out her limbs, trying to regain any feeling in her muscles. Even if it was comfortable sleeping in her man’s arms, she would still feel it soon enough. Thinking of her man she remembered that she fell asleep sitting on top of him. He probably did not feel his legs since she fell asleep. She spun her head to the side and noticed his resting face, leaning against his seat.
A soft smile appeared on her face as she realized that he did not wake up even if he wanted to sleep, but instead stayed with her, comforting her. She reached out and lightly touched his cheek with the back of her hand, her eyes still looking at him with a mix of guilt and something deeper, something she would have never thought she would feel – love.
“Has no one ever taught you it’s rude to stare?” his husky voice sounded even deeper after being asleep. His eyes still closed, but the corners of his lips pulled up in a small smile as soon as he felt her moving her hand away from his face. He quickly grabbed the escaping hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. He knew how to be so romantic with the smallest things, mostly when they were alone.
“Sorry for waking you,” she whispered as she straightened her back.
“It’s fine, couldn’t really sleep in this position anyway.” he groaned trying to straighten his own back and keeping his hold on Isabelle at the same time.
“Sorry about that as well…” Isabelle apologised again, her eyes turning away from his gaze, feeling even guiltier.
Thomas frowned. It was not a common thing for her to feel any type of regret or to show such weakness, even if it was with him. It could either mean she is slowly letting her guard down or she is not feeling her best.
He removed his hand from her thighs and cupped her chin instead. Turning her head back to him he stared at her for a bit longer, hoping she would say something, but she just kept avoiding him, until he pressed his lips against hers in the most delicate manner: “you sure you’re ok?”
“I guess the flight is making feel all kinds of ways…” she sighed, her hand reaching out once more to touch his face, over his jaw and his cheeks up to his cheekbones. Her thumb gently grazed over his lower lip, before she leaned in and pressed her lips against his, “can we go to bed, please?”
“Sure, love.” they slowly pulled away from each other and got up from their seat, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Everyone, besides the pilot and co-pilot, was probably asleep or at least napping.
Even if he thought she was avoiding him by wanting to go to bed, she proved him otherwise once she took his hand as soon as they got up. Intertwining their fingers, she looked over her shoulder and threw him a smile, leading him to a bed. Behind the seats on which they were sitting was a barrier and door that led to the bedrooms and bathroom. To no one’s surprise, Gina and Michael took the double bed, to which Isabelle could only roll her eyes. She could not care less though, because all she wanted was to be with Thomas.
Continuing their walk, they moved to the other bed, which was a single bed, probably meant for one person and not a couple, yet they did not mind it. Taking off their shoes they slid under the duvet. Thomas was first and opened his arms for Isabelle to sneak into. She let out a small giggle as she slipped into and he returned it in the form of a smile. Both of them were pretty worn out yet they could not fall asleep so quickly.
“You gonna tell me what is really bothering you?” he asked her, his hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her close enough.
Instead of answering she placed a finger against his lips, to identify that he should not talk. For her answer, she just pointed towards the other bedroom with her eyes and shook her head. Thomas tilted his head a bit and tried to understand why, but the look in her eyes, filled with anger and a hint of fear told him enough.
“Just kiss me,” she whispered as her lips touched his lightly in passing. Her hand held onto his neck, leaning in and pressing her lips fully against his. Closing her eyes, she tried to keep all of her mind filled with Thomas. The kiss was not hungry or horny, but it was needy and sensual. She just needed to feel him. Thomas’ hand moved down her waist to her butt, groping it as he pulled her closer. The hand under his pillow came out of its hiding and nudged her by the shoulder to move on top of him. Her hands moved up to his jaw and cupped it on both sides.
After what felt like minutes, they pulled away, foreheads resting against one another, as small pants left their lips, clearly out of breath: “tell me you’re with me.”
“I’m with you.” his hand slid to cup her cheek as her hands rested on his chest, “always.”
Isabelle smiled at him, pressing her lips once more against his, before finally laying her body completely down. Her head rested on his chest, arms wrapped around him. His fingers combed through her hair, staring at her and the ceiling, until both of them were too tired and finally gave in, falling asleep in each other’s arms.
Approximately an hour away from Birmingham airport, Isabelle slowly awakened from her slumber. Thomas’ back was pressed against her chest, she was spooning him. Instead of being the small spoon she was the big one. Thomas was still asleep and sound, his hand resting underneath his pillow as Isabelle’s hand was wrapped around his torso. She enjoyed seeing him sleeping so effortlessly. She knew about his night terrors, and the lack of sleep he got because of his family and his work. Therefore, she let him sleep as long as he could. Considering how stressful the holiday season is for normal people, it would mean it is going to be ten times worse for Thomas. He needed all the sleep he could get.
For a moment longer she did not pull away from him, instead just stared at his back, wondering if she was making a mistake, coming to the UK with him, opening up to him, if attempting to talk to him that night he arrived in New York. She was contemplating her decisions. If it would be possible to tell him the truth without him killing her or even worse, hating her.
“Aww what a beautiful sentiment.” a soft voice was heard from the entrance of the suite. Isabelle quickly turned around, but gentle enough not to bother Thomas.
Isabelle’s calm facial expressions darkened immediately. Seeing that woman in her bubble gum pink outfit made her blood boil. She stood up straight right away, ignoring the fact that her boyfriend was only a meter away from her, she was so close to snapping her neck.
“What the fuck are you doing here Gina?”
“Izzy, sis-”
“No actually, I know the answer to that question. You have a thing going on with Thomas’ cousin. And I guess he is the main reason for my task. Somehow in your fucked-up mind, you built this fantasy of you ruling the world with the help of your boy toy.” Isabelle tried her best to keep her voice down.
“Good for you sis, two plus two.” Gina leaned against the entrance. Their boyfriends were sound asleep and most of the flight attendants were on their break. Therefore, leaving the two sisters alone, “but your job is not done just because you know my reasons. He will still die by your hand. If not…you know what will happen next.”
“Why drag me into this bullshit?! Why are you here Gina?”
“Mickey told me you plan on visiting Birmingham, so I convinced him to take me as well. Christmas wouldn’t be the same without my sis.”
“What are you planning Gina?” she didn’t believe a word that came out of her mouth. She knew something was off about it.
“I just wanted to spend the holidays with you, sis.”
Warning:Strong Language, Graphic Depictions Of Violence&Smut
Words: 7.1 k
[A/N]:it’s holiday time bishessss, I will try my best to post some Christmas specials before Christmas…we shall see if I can manage, between all the baking and cooking I have to do
After a long sleepless night, the two lovers were woken by their alarm clocks that strangely enough echoed throughout the room at the exact same time. Their tangled bodies then pulled away from one another to reach the two nightstands next to her bed and turn the alarms off, before moving back to one another. The first rays of sunshine shot through the curtains covering the ceiling tall windows and hitting random spots of their half-covered bodies.
Soft tracing of skin, sleepless sighs and the smell made out of smoke and sex woke them up from their half-sleep. Isabelle’s face was tucked between Thomas’ shoulder and neck, her fingers tracing his chest tattoo as her legs gently slid up and down his legs. Thomas on the other hand already lit a cigarette on and replied to text messages and e-mails while he ran his other hand over Isabelle’s hair.
“Straight to business, I see,” Isabelle commented as she peaked at Thomas from the corner of her eyes. Her body then raised up with a groan leaving her lips and moved then to comfortably on top of his lower stomach, a position that appeared to be quite the charmer on more than one occasion the night before.
Thomas kept his eyes on his screen for a few more seconds before placing it next to him on the bed and then removing the cigarette from his lips. A thick cloud of smoke hovered in front of his face before fading away into the air, allowing Isabelle to look at his gorgeous poker face. His face did not give out any information except his obvious cheeriness caused by the view in front of him. Isabelle’s naked body covered with love bites and bruises was a sight for sore eyes.
“Nhmm…business never sleeps love, and apparently neither do you. You’ve proven me so last night.” the small smirk on the corner of his lips was the proof of his pleasure.
“As if. You’re the reason I didn’t have any time to sleep. Whenever I was about to close my eyes you had some mysterious new outbreak of energy and ravished me once again.” she scoffed at him, smacking his stomach playfully.
Thomas let out a breath, moving his body into a sitting position, his arms wrapping around her lower back, resting on top of her butt. The tops of his hair fell over his forehead, giving it an appearance that he owned bangs, which he sadly did not but it was quite a nice image for Isabelle. His lips pressed against her collarbone, right on top of a hickey. Isabelle rolled her eyes and snatched his cigarette from his fingers and placed it between her lips, letting out a drag of smoke into her lungs and then letting the poison escape through her mouth. He slowly pulled away from her skin and looked at her, so delicately holding his cigarette, yet the look in her eyes was never clear. Something dangerous and vicious was hidden behind those hazel eyes. Something he could not decode and only made him want her more. All the things he felt last night made him want her by his side, at all time. But he could not allow that to himself, besides after that night it could have been his dick talking to him and wanting more of her body and not more of her.
It would take time to know what he actually wanted.
“I should head out to work,” he informed her, his hands still gently chilling on top of her butt.
Isabelle frowned at his statement and looked at the clock hanging at her wall: “at 6am?”
“I have to handle some things before I get to work,” he explained himself, running his hand through his bed hair.
“Can’t you stay with me and we can consider ravishing in the kitchen?” she suggestively offered and slid her fingers down his upper arm.
A small smile appeared on his lips, followed by a shake of his head: “as much as I’d love to claim you on every surface of this apartment, I have to get going, love.” with that he grabbed Isabelle by her waist and raised her into the air, the cold air causing goosebumps over her skin, before placing her gently back on top of the warm sheets. Yet that did not feel as warm as sitting on top of Thomas did. He on the other hand, stepped out of the bed and grabbed some of his clothing, anything that found itself on his way to the bathroom, where he did his usual morning routine, leaving Isabelle naked by herself on the bed, “You’re not even gonna tell me what business you have to tend to?” she never got a reply to her question.
She did not bother putting on any clothing, somehow still in a bit of a desperate mood to bring him back to bed. However, nothing would come out of that as proven by Thomas once he came back out of the bathroom. Dressed to 80% he came into her bedroom and saw her resting on her knees with the blanket nowhere near her body. She just sat there in her full glory, stopping him in his tracks to grab the rest of his stuff. Thomas just pursed his lips and tilted his head, wishing he took a picture of the beauty drooling for him. Despite him wanting to ruin her even more, the business he had to attend was more urgent. And he could not take her anywhere near that kind of business. But he somehow had a feeling she could not be able to keep her nose out of things like that.
“I promise I’ll pick you up for lunch later on,” he redeemed himself, in some way, walking up to her and placing a gentle kiss on top of her head, “I’ll see you later, love.” and with that, she was alone in her apartment, yet again, feeling like a hooker in her own home. She sat down and groaned, running a hand through her hair.
She could not remember the last time she was so thirsty about a man, not to mention a man that had the audacity to walk out on her, twice. She would have been fuming if it wasn’t for the curiosity that got the best of her. It could have been just any regular job that needed seeing, but not with Thomas Shelby.
After the research that had to be done due to Gina’s request, Isabelle knew very well that Thomas is a secretive man and would not tell just anyone about his work and businesses. And most likely Isabelle did not step out of that “just anyone” part of Thomas’ acquaintances.
She could have just run after him and follow him to his business, but she was naked, and he was already out of her flat. There was no way she could get ready and catch up with him. Therefore, she just gave up on the idea, at least until she would see another opportunity and take it. Until then she would have plenty of work just covering the bruises and love bites, she noticed once she looked at herself in her mirror.
Later at work, she was going through some contracts as no other than Gina burst into her office like a bomb that just exploded. Isabelle’s oval face rose up from the paperwork in front of her and just threw a disapproving look at Gina who just acted like her office is her living room. “oh yes, please Gina, just come inside.” Isabelle broke the silence as Gina made her way to Isabelle’s desk.
Gina’s usual ecstatic yet fake smile was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Isabelle faced a dark, taunting glare coming from her friend: “I want you to kill Thomas.”
Unsure if she heard her properly, Isabelle asked: “excuse me, what?”
“I want you to kill Thomas Shelby.” Gina made herself comfortable on the seat across of Isabelle and lit herself a cigarette.
“No no no, the deal was that I seduce Thomas and bring him to you. You and your people would deal with the rest.” Isabelle quickly sat up from her seat and made her way to the other side of the desk.
“No, Izzy.” Gina looked at her with unholy, almost diabolic look in her eyes, “the deal was that you do as I say, or we will make sure we kill anything that is left of your family. You might think my family is like your own, but it isn’t. You should be thankful we raised your filthy gipsy ass.”
“Gina-”
“Shut up.” Gina stood up and stood only a few inches away from Isabelle. Despite Isabelle being taller, Gina had something wrathful inside of her that scared even the foul side of Isabelle, “the planned changed. Tommy made a deal with Alfie Solomons this morning, which means he has that fucking Jew on his side. Do you know how much power that bread baking piece of shit has in Europe? If you combine Thomas’ and his empires, nothing could ever compete with them!”
“What does that even have to do with you? What do you need Thomas dead for anyway?”
“That’s none of your business, little sister. Your job is to just shoot his brain out when you get the chance.”
“And how the fuck will I just causally get the chance to point a gun at Thomas Shelby’s head?! That man could kill me in less than a second when he realizes I’m planning a move against him.” Isabelle walked after Gina who was casually pacing around her office.
“When he’s weak.” Gina suddenly stopped and looked at Isabelle.
“Why would he ever be weak around me? I don’t even know him.”
“Oh you know him very well, sis. And by the activities in which you two participated in the distillery, I wouldn’t be surprised if he already is weak just with you being around him.” Gina tilted her head, explaining to Isabelle what she knew.
“H-how did you know?” fear appeared on Isabelle’s face, despite her trying to cover it up as good as she could, there are some surprises not even she could pretend never happened.
“You think I wouldn’t find out? You mingling with our enemy? You making out with him in front of your apartment building? After which you two headed inside? Guess you did more than just making out?” Gina took a step closer to Isabelle and whispered, “I’m always one step ahead of you, Izzy.”
“We-”
“But fortunately for you, since our plans changed, your connection with Thomas can be of favour.” Gina played with a long strand of Isabelle’s dark hair.
“This is your plan, Gina, not mine,” Isabelle spoke through her teeth.
“Oh no no, sis. It’s our plan. You’re part of my family as well, right?” the contradiction coming out of her mouth only confused Isabelle more. She was a sly bitch ready to get anything she wanted, as always, “so I suggest you wrap Thomas around your little finger and then drive a knife right through his heart, and then we might not kill all of your gypsy family.” Gina’s words stung like a wasp sting. Isabelle stood there, allowing the blonde to attack her verbally. Because she knew, she could never attack her back despite the high chance of Isabelle’s win. She was not allowed to wound Gina or not only the possibly alive family members but Isabelle herself could die.
Gina was a petty woman, arrogant, spoiled but most of all-powerful due to her parent’s power. She had the best guard, whose jobs sounded more like guard dogs than normal people. If Gina was to be even touched in a negative way, the person doing so would be attacked and killed right away. No one had the power to mess with her family. Yet it seemed like there were some families around the world who were simply stronger, richer, more powerful.
Even if she never got a reason behind Gina’s hatred towards Thomas, she could probably guess it was jealous and hunger for power. But even if she could kill him, there would be other Shelbys ready to take over his position, so she did not understand what Gina would gain out of that. There were so many blank spots inside of her Isabelle’s brain that had to be filled.
As soon as Gina left Isabelle’s office, Isabelle needed a drink, a strong one. The early afternoon hours did not prevent her from reaching towards her alcohol stack and pouring herself the strongest she got. As the strong liquor slid down her throat, burning it in the process, she just stared out of the window, contemplating on whether this plan could work out and whether she would ever come live out of this or was her undoing part of “our” plan as well.
Minutes passed and she did not move, but the glass got emptier and she came to the conclusion that she would probably die as well, and she could at least have another drink before that. So she decided to make herself another drink. But halfway through she heard a voice coming from her door: “I knew you hid the good stuff.”
Thomas stepped into her office and closed the door behind him, a hand in his pocket and the other holding a cigarette.
“Ah yes please, just walk straight inside. Seems like that’s a common thing nowadays.” she murmured to herself as she just walked back to her desk, ignoring Thomas’ presence.
A settle confusion settled into him as he listened to her. He was unsure about the reasoning to her displeasure with him walking inside without knocking. Thomas proceeded to step closer to his girlfriend and spin her chair around until she face facing him: “what made you so grumpy, love?” he asked, kneeling in front of her and cupped her jaw.
The whole thought process was deleted once he touched her skin. There was something so electrifying about that him that made all common sense vanish. The mission she had, the job she had to finish and the danger she was putting herself into just by being with him did not matter. The fact that being with him was a danger to her from both his side and Gina’s side did not matter. All she wanted was just to be held by him.
A sigh left her lips once she felt the warmth of his skin on hears: “just some shitty employee fucking with my nerves.” a lie, but not really. However, knowing Thomas would overthink everything and proceed to look into that “shitty employee”, Isabelle quickly put the matter aside and asked about him, “but forget that, how was your business meeting this morning?”
Thomas stared at her for a few moments, before taking a drag of his cigarette and simply replying: “tolerable.”
An odd description for a meeting for anyone who did not know about Alfie Solomons, but considering Isabelle knew who the meeting was with, she could just nod in understanding, as she would probably feel the same having to listen to that man for too long.
“Can we go grab something to eat, I just wanna be away from this building for a bit…” Isabelle uttered in a quiet voice, just low enough for him to hear. A gentle chuckle left his lips as he got up, taking her up with him by grabbing her hand, “anything you want, love.”
On their way towards his car, Isabelle broke their comfortable silence by asking something she was curious about but somehow had a feeling would be rejected by him: “Thomas?”
A husky groan was his only response, but it was enough for her to understand that he was listening to her: “what do you think about that rum Jew from London?”
“You mean Mr Solomons?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said, rum Jew,” she confirmed his question and made him laugh but only for a moment, before his face turned back into its natural state of emotionlessness.
“What makes you so curious about him?”
“Well since he’s the nemesis of my boyfriend, might as well know more about him.” she smirked, leaning against her seat in his SUV.
“Nemesis, huh?” he repeated that term more for himself then for her, but nodded and started speaking: “I’ve known him for quite some time now, our parents were rivals as well, so obviously we became rivals too. But we do not fight directly anymore, we keep on collecting partners and business deals. I guess the winner will be the one who gets the most.” he shrugged unsure what exactly she asked about.
“And how about you settle for a truce?”
“A truce you say?” he turned his gaze towards her for a moment, before returning back to the road, leading them towards their lunch destination, “tell me Isabelle, would you settle for less if you could have it all?”
“If it meant surviving and living safely? Yes.” the answer surprised him, but his facial expression never exposed him.
“Hn.” he never replied to her, but instead kept on driving in silence until they reached their luxurious looking restaurant destination, where they would have their lunch before returning to their work.
During the lunch, Thomas bragged with his skill of ordering foreign dishes in the mother tongue of the dishes without showing any signs of a British accent. Isabelle was less impressed than Thomas hoped for, probably because she was used to hearing such flexing by other men. Instead she just silently ate her food, her mind still occupied with the merciless task she was given by her so-called sister.
Throughout the whole lunch, Thomas was busier looking at his phone and texting away than to actually keep an ongoing conversation with her. Isabelle tried to peak onto his phone to catch a glimpse of the texts he was having: “Thomas?” she asked once she realised it was pointless to stalk his phone.
“Hn.” he replied unbothered, keeping his eyes to his phone.
“The food’s quite delicious, don’t you think?” she poked some of the meat with her fork.
“Hn.” was all she got.
To test whether he even listened to her she took a turn: “Tommy I have no underwear on.”
“Hn.”
She opened her mouth in shock and disbelief and just continued to eat her food. That was the most boring lunch she ever had. Listening to those fat businessmen trying to make a deal with her was more fun then listening to Thomas text on his phone.
Suddenly even that silence ended when Thomas got up, leaving Isabelle surprised with a fork topped with food halfway to her mouth, “Sorry, love, but I have an urgent business meeting to attend. I promise I will make it up to you.” she looked at him with confusion but had no chance to ask anything as he threw some bills onto the table before leaning down at her to kiss her cheek, before whispering into his ear: “and I have to check later to make sure you really have no underwear on.” a chased kiss was placed on her ear, leaving her blushing on her seat as Thomas vanished. And with that, her lunch date ended much sooner than hoped.
But leaving her only made her think about her chance to finally find out what he was doing. Any regular business meeting would not begin in the middle of his lunch break and surely wouldn’t be planned via texts. This was something similar to what happened that morning. Isabelle had to find out what he was doing. She probably did not have to, but her curiosity got the best of her.
Isabelle knew that she should just walk away from it. Running after him would mean danger, danger in which she did not wish to be involved in. But the curiosity was getting the best of her. As soon as she was out of Thomas sight, the look on his face became colder, almost dangerous. Despite only being able to spot the profile of his face, Isabelle could feel a shiver down her spine. And the adrenaline rushed through her blood as soon as she called a taxi. Giving the man the task to follow Thomas’ car, but within a safe distance. Thomas would know right away if someone followed him and God knows how that would end.
Instead the taxi kept at least two cars between itself and Thomas’ car. The taxi driver did not mind following the car, he would get paid either way. And Isabelle just sat in the back, her eyes trying to keep track with Thomas car, figuring where he was heading to. After what felt like hours, they finally noticed Thomas pulling down shorter and narrower streets. Until he finally reached his destination. It was a restricted one-way alley somewhere in Chinatown. And despite it being late in the afternoon, no one seemed to live around that area nor did someone seem to work or walk by that place. Perhaps it was known for some dangerous business going on around there and everyone just tried to avoid it. That assumption only made Isabelle want to turn away and go back to work. Yet that possibility of being caught, of ending up in a dangerous, hazardous situation made her heartbeat go faster. She felt like she was high on adrenaline.
Once Thomas stepped out of his car, Isabelle quickly paid her taxi driver and let him drive away, leaving her only a few meters away from Thomas’ car. She tried her best to hide, but the clicking of her heels did not help her. Instead, she just tried to be as slow as possible, hiding behind every possible wall or store.
She planned on staying hidden at least for a while until she could evaluate the situation. Thomas vanished within the walls of the alleyway, his hand holding tightly onto the inside of his jacket, something he usually never did. But Isabelle was not stupid, she could have guessed what he was holding onto. And soon enough she knew exactly way he was holding so desperately because once she heard gunshots echoing throughout the alleyway, her hiding spot was useless and her perfect plan was destroyed.
Loud groans and inarticulate conveys of pain could have been heard right after the gunshots rang throughout the street. Isabelle was surprised no one came out or called the cops, instead anyone that was anywhere near escaped inside of the buildings. The guns continued to be heard after a few seconds of weeping in between. And Isabelle could not hide any longer, those whimpers could have been Thomas’. She was no weak woman, despite her feminine appearance she knew how to protect herself, but no matter how strong she is physically, none of her attacks could match a bullet.
Nevertheless, she ran towards the unsafe scene and was met with a bloody view. Bloodstained floor covered with dozens of bodies half dead and half still alive. Their bodies were covered in a crimson mess made from blood and probably other bodily fluids. Isabelle restrained her gag reflex and stopped herself from vomiting at the scene. Her eyes were looking for Thomas, hoping he was not one of the men on the floor. The story behind the attack did not matter to her at that moment, all she wanted was to make sure Thomas was safe.
He was not dead. However, he was far from being safe. Thomas was struggling on his legs, a wire wrapped around his neck from behind him, being held by a tall ginger-haired man with a matching beard. He himself was also covered with blood, most likely not his own, as he tightly pulled the wire closer to Thomas skin. She could already see the bruises and wounds forming from the pressure. Thomas held onto the wire, trying to pull it further away from his skin, but the taller man appeared to be stronger than Thomas.
Isabelle did not think twice but ran towards the man hitting him with a leg kick with all strength she had. Her attack succeeded as she kicked right under the sides of his ribcage, catching the man off guard. He yelped in pain, easing the grip on the wire, and therefore allowing Tommy to turn around and quickly shoot the man straight through his head. Blood splattered all over him, reaching both Thomas and Isabelle, covering them also with blood.
The woman gasped, more in shock that her outfit was ruined than actual fear. Thomas looked at her for a moment, eyes shocked but thankful. He stared at the beauty covered in blood for a second before throwing her a gun and just threw her a look that told her everything. She never used a gun before in her life, but she has seen enough movies to know what to do. But the backlash of a bullet leaving the barrel.
Thomas paid no attention to the woman next to him that appeared out of nowhere, he was too occupied with the enemies attacking them from every side. The moment Isabelle turned around to look for Thomas a gunshot was heard. One of the men attempted to shoot her, however only to collide with the wall next to her. Isabelle gasped turning towards the man laying on the floor, but still having enough energy to attack her. She raised her eyebrows and stepped towards him shooting a few bullets through the muzzle of the gun, hitting various different parts of the man, ending both him and her outfit.
The destructive scene became gorier with every moment. A barbarous, warlike scenario that would be tattooed into Isabelle’s mind. Soon afterwards, everything was quiet again. The dozens of men were splattered around the floor, covered in blood, a true homicidal picture. And standing above all of it was Thomas, breathing deeply. The animalistic expression on this face was highlighted by the blood covering most of his skin and clothing. His hand was shaking, holding the gun with everything in him. He could taste the metallic flavour of blood that dripped into his mouth. He had to check a few time to make sure everyone was dead, but then he realized he was not alone in this.
His back quickly turned around, hoping to see Isabelle still alive. And thankfully she was. She was standing above the man she just shot and killed. He would have probably died from his previous wounds caused by Thomas, but she was the one who finished him. And it suddenly hit her, she killed a man. Despite the adrenaline she slowly came back to earth and realized in what she just got herself. Thomas rushed to her by long gallops, still holding the gun tightly in his hands.
As soon as he touched Isabelle’s shoulder, she spun around, pointing her gun with both hands against Thomas’ forehead. It was just a reflex caused by fear, but once she looked at him, she knew she could finish her task right away and be done with it. Thomas however, was calm enough to know that she was scared. He did not know about her task and simply grabbed onto the barrel of her gun, slowly moving it downwards until he could casually take the gun out of her hand and throw it aside, far from the men.
Her eyes were looking for him, she was frightened, alarmed and panic-stricken. Thomas was shaky as well but he was no stranger to gunfights and shootings and bloody aftermaths. Despite all that he knew he had to calm Isabelle down before she broke down. His arms wrapped around her body, holding her tightly. The blood spread over his clothes mixed with the blood covering her own. They were a mess, but she never felt safer in someone’s arms than him.
Her breath slowly calmed down as he hugged her. His eyes still wandered around the scene caused by them, no moment did he have to relax. But she did. And soon enough her panic lingered slowly away. She was still petrified but calm enough to know they had to leave this scene before either the police or more of those men arrived.
“Thomas-” she clearly shaken looked at him, her eyes told him everything.
“I know,” he spoke, the pain obvious but his pride would not allow him to show it. He slowly let go of Isabelle and pointed at the car, “get inside and wait for me.” she just nodded her head and slowly walked towards his nearby car, after every few steps she threw a look at him just to make sure he was still there, still alive. Thomas quickly grabbed any gun that had their fingerprints on them and took a couple of pictures of the men. His eyes wandered around the buildings hoping no one has seen what happened, but that was highly unlikely.
On his way towards his car, his eyes kept looking around, scanning and analysing everything and everyone. His march was stopped, however, once he saw Isabelle just sitting in his car, covered with blood. Tears finally left her eyes, the shock clearly ceasing, yet the realization hit her stronger now. Looking at her bloody hands she knew that she fucked up, really badly. Even when Thomas stepped into his car, she did not stop crying, her eyes still focused on the foreign blood ruining her skin and clothing.
Thomas grabbed her hands and placed a kiss on top of them. Isabelle’s watery eyes then stared at Thomas with an opened mouth. Sobs left her lips, her arms suddenly wrapping around Thomas again holding onto him tighter than before. Not much could be understood from all the sobs leaving her, but Thomas did recognize one sentence that affected him more than he thought: “I thought you would die.”
“Isabelle look at me,” he cupped her face and raised her face until she looked at him, “we have to leave. Right now. I will explain later.” she just nodded her head and allowed him to drive away as quickly as he could. He took the easiest road he could think off and quickly drove towards the apartment in which he lived for the time being until he could decide whether he would stay in the States or head back to the UK.
Isabelle has never been to that place, but she knew she wanted to be with Thomas. She was upset, overwhelmed and unprepared. During the whole ride, she kept on holding onto his arm or hand, wishing for contact. Thomas understood and did not even think of pushing her away. In fact, he enjoyed it, the neediness of hers. However, they did not speak a lot. They just drove, making sure they avoided any attention from people. The windows of his SUV was darkened so no one could look aside into the car, but the front window was not. The darkness of the late autumn days helped them be hidden. They made their way towards his building without any stops. All they wanted was to quickly leave the public, just because of their red appearance.
The couple drove into the underground garage of the apartment building where Thomas lived. Locking up his car he looked around once more, before quickly grabbing onto Isabelle’s waist and leading her to the elevator that would lead them straight to his floor.
She did not care about the appearance of his apartment building, the elevator or even his flat. All she wanted was to wash the shit from her body and to calm down, there would hopefully be other times when she would have all the time of the world to inspect the appearance of his home. Isabelle held onto his arm as he unlocked his door and led her inside. All the time he made sure no one followed them, and he locked the door with more than just one lock. He became somewhat paranoid after what happened.
Thomas crimson fingers wrapped around hers, leading her towards his bathroom. He turned on the shower and allowed the warm steam to cover the whole room, while he slowly undressed. Isabelle took the hint and slowly removed every article of her clothing, together with her shoes, kicking everything aside, knowing she would most likely throw all of it away, due to the fact that such stains could not be removed.
Thomas body was covered in bruises, making Isabelle regret not rushing sooner to the scene and preventing more damage. She looked down at the floor, as Thomas stepped into the shower, letting the warm water run down his body, dyeing the floor into the deep red shade. He turned around taking a look at her frozen state. Regret and shame covering her expression, leading her to almost break down into tears again. He had to prevent that. And he did so by taking her hand and pulling her inside the shower, closing the door behind her. He wrapped his hands around her naked body and kept her under the showerhead. Her head leaned against his shoulder, the blood staining her body slowly sliding away, allowing her natural skin colour to show.
Thomas slid his hand through her hair, undoing random small knots. The silence was comforting but so many questions were to be asked: “Thomas…”
“Why were you there?” his stern voice broke her quiet words, “you could have died you bloody idiot.” he groaned against her hair, holding tighter onto her.
“I wanted to know what kind of business you and the rum Jew had to go on…” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear it.
He cursed under his breath, some of which could not be understood by Isabelle. She just hid more. She was not scared of him or the consequences of her actions she just wanted to feel safe again. Which would hardly be possibly considering the mess under their feet.
“I’m sorry Tommy. I just-”
“Thank you.” his words were unfamiliar to her. She never heard those coming from him, “fuck knows what would have happened to me if you didn’t punt that fucker away from me.” he chuckled before pulling away from her just enough to see the mess on her face.
His rough hand gently removed the stains on her face, as her fingers ran over his hair, washing the semi-dry blood from the tips of his locks.
“I’m glad I kicked that bastard away from you. Only I should be allowed to leave marks on your neck.” her fingertips slowly touched the red mark around his neck. It would not leave any scar but it sure will bruise.
Thomas response was just a low chuckle. His hands trailed over her hot naked skin. Touching all the parts that were covered with blood, washing them away under the pressure of the hot water. Their eyes met once more, however, this time, after calming down they realised in what situation they were. Naked underneath the showerhead, barely survived just an hour ago. Something else besides adrenaline started pumping through their veins. They started craving more than just a gentle touch from one another.
His nails dug into his waist, surely leaving red bruises wherever he touched. A deep breath left her lips as her hands wrapped around his neck, their lips meeting in a hungry kiss. There was still some blood running down their bodies mixing with the water and hitting the slightly lighter red water on the floor of the shower.
“I need to feel more of you.” Thomas breathed against her lips as Isabelle held on top of his head, tugging on his hair as she deepened the kiss. Neither one of them cared about foreplay, about taking it slow and enjoying the moments. She knew it would hurt much more but she could not care less. Thomas let go of her waist with one hand and started pumping his member, making sure to get it at least semi-hard before he would make his next move. He lined himself up quickly, the bulging tip grazing her narrow opening. His fingers spread her lips, and she let out a long whine as he slowly sunk into her. His hands went to her ass, lifting her up until she was waist and pressed with her back against the steamed-up wall, and she could only yelp at the feeling of his fingers and dick against her wet welts.
He stroked over her folds gently and she moaned out loud, taking more of his cock inside her. Finally, she felt his muscular thighs brushing her ass next to where his hands were resting, and she took a few quick breaths. “Fucking hell, love, you feel so fucking good!” Thomas murmured with a lustful voice.
“Feels so fucking good, Tommy. So fucking tight,” she whimpered.
“Fuck I should take you raw more often.” he cursed, leaning forward and tilting her head back, kissing her jaw before crushing his mouth against hers. Isabelle moaned as he slid his tongue over hers, nipped at her bottom lip. Instinctively, she rolled her hips as he devoured her mouth and sucked at her lips, the motion sending bolts of pleasure out from her pussy and into her legs and stomach.
She whimpered as he moved quicker, the pull of his turgid flesh against her inner walls causing instant heat. His hands slid up her back, and she hissed. He started slowly at first, moving out only a few inches and sinking back down, his grunts and soft gasps of her name urged him to move faster. Soon, her hands grabbed onto his shoulders, bracing herself as he pulled out until only his tip was inside her, before slamming back inside. As he pounded into her in a rapid speed, his arms slide around her, one hand holding onto her waist, the other on her ass, teasing the bruises there, making her cry out.
God, he felt so huge around her. Every time he entered her, she felt him stretch her wider. She got wetter with every thrust. Her breasts swayed and jiggled with her movement, and she knew Thomas noticed that when he growled, his mouth dropping to the untouched skin of her chest. She moaned as his tongue licked the line between her breasts. As he sucked gently, his fingers still teasing her sensitive spots, she felt her pussy squeeze tight around his shaft. Warmth built in her belly, and she took a stunted breath: “Tommy, fuck I’m gonna come,” she gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders.
Thomas’ forehead pressed against her shoulder, curses coming out of his mouth. She was on the edge of an orgasm when he moved harder. Isabelle was aching to come. She needed his big dick to come inside of her. His hands worked between them again, squeezing his head up between her lips. As soon as she felt it, she sank down, moaning desperately, “Go faster,” she pleaded. “Tommy, please.”
He bent his knees and started thrusting up into her convulsing core as she grabbed onto his arms for support. He grunted into her ear, and her breathing got shallow. They were so close, they could tell from the acute throbbing between her legs, “Come, Izzy, come love,” he growls. “I need you to come.”
“I’m close,” she whined. “so fucking-” His mouth dipped down to her neck again, and she whimpered. His teeth scraped lightly over her, barely at all, but it was enough for her. A wail tears out of her throat as her orgasm ripped her apart. Her pussy clenched desperately at him as he continued to drive into her. Her head fell back against the wall, as she dug her fingers into his skin, her lungs struggling to breathe through it.
Suddenly, he yanked her hips down at the same time he powered his up, ramming his cock in so deep she could feel his balls against her. She looked down to see his face twist with a roar as he came. The feeling of his cock jerking and spilling inside of her sent a sharp surge through her core, extending her orgasm. Her forehead dropped to his shoulder as he grunted into her ear, “fucking hell Izzy that was fucking amazing.”
After slowly putting her down, his arms still holding onto her to make sure she would not crash onto the floor, their breaths slowed down: “are we bad people…for fucking while their blood washes down the drain?”
“Might be kinkier than my usual preferences, but if you’re into it…” Thomas joked with her and she just slapped his shoulder
“I’m serious, Tommy.” she whined, as he chuckled at her, “those people are dead…we killed them.” she commented, her hands sliding down his shoulders to his upper arms.
“They would have killed us if we didn’t kill them Izzy.” he opened the shower door and stepped out, grabbing some towels for them to dry with.
Taking a towel from him, she slowly rubbed her body dry, removing any cum between her legs: “who were these people Tom?”
“I’m not sure…but they weren’t Alfie’s men, that’s for sure.” he frowned at the floor, a towel on top of his head, drying his short locks.
“Why did you even go there, Tommy?” Thomas walked up to her, a towel wrapped around his waist. His hands grabbed an unused towel and gently wrapped it around her hair, helping her dry her long dark brown locks.
“I got texts. Allegedly they were from Alfie about some changes to the deal. I guess those changes include my death.” he shrugged before grabbing onto Isabelle’s ass and raising her into the air, her legs wrapping around his waist as he started walking with her towards his bedroom, “those texts weren’t from Alfie, Izzy. He wouldn’t send such texts.”
“Then why did you go there if you knew they weren’t from him?” Isabelle frowned, her fingers holding onto his shoulders as they walked.
“I wanted to confirm a suspicion.”
“What suspicion?” she asked as he placed her on top of her bed and under his covers. She never got a reply to her question and took it with ease, knowing he had his reasons for keeping quiet, “can you at least tell me whether you can confirm that suspicion or not?”
“It’s confirmed.” Thomas wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. The way she looked at him made him melt away. The look made him feel adored, needed, wanted, “Izzy?”
“Hn.” she even started copying his usual emotionless reply.
A gentle smile appeared on his face and he asked: “come celebrate Christmas with me and my family in Birmingham.”
Warning:Strong Language, Graphic Depictions Of Violence & Smut
Words: 4.6 k
[A/N]:ah yes, another late updated. College be a bitch, I guess. Just another week and Christmas holidays begin…just another week….but until then have some long ass and awful smut
Thomas inhaled another breath of nicotine, while Isabelle tried a sip of the Ale she received. “So, Izzy, how about to finally tell me what you’re and Gina up to?” hearing that question made Isabelle choke on the alcohol that was just about to go down her throat. She let out a few coughs before looking at him. The serious expression on his face did not mean anything good and she knew that she was screwed.
“W-what do you mean?” a slight stutter left her lips, almost exposing her straight away. Her hands were fidgeting around underneath the table.
“You two seem chummy.” his head jerked back just an inch while his eyebrows frowned downwards towards his eyes. Those piercing blue eyes dug into her soul, “were you planning on ever telling me you’ve known her for years?”
For a second there Isabelle wanted to let out a sigh of relief because apparently, all he was referring to was her friendship with Gina and not the whole plot going on about it. He however never broke eye contact with her, just excepting a reply coming from her: “yeah…that’s a long story.”
“I have time.” he immediately commented taking a sip of his drink.
Lying would only make things more complicated later and she knew it was already complicated enough. Therefore, she decided to come clean, at least with the part for which she would not end up on Thomas’ hitlist: “Not sure what your family told you about my family, and don’t try to convince me you have clue what I’m talking about, ‘cause we both know that’s a lie.” she rose her eyebrows, pointing her index finger towards him.
Thomas just put his hands up as a sign of innocence and surrender, closing his eyes and not saying a word, allowing her to continue, “We are all aware that my family is probably extinct, besides myself of course.” her finger slowly glided around the rim of her glass, eyes slowly wandering away from Thomas, “I do not remember much of it, probably because I was a toddler back then. But I do know that my family was killed, each one of them, slaughtered like pigs.” her eyes jerked towards Thomas as she finished that sentence before ending the tension with a scoff leaving her lips.
“However, I was not killed. I never found out why. All I know is that someone sent me to the States soon afterwards, subsequently deleting every connection I had with the UK. Once I arrived in New York I was taken into the custody of the Claiborne family.” Thomas just quietly continued to listen to her, “You may recognize that name, if not I will help freshen up your memory, Gina’s maiden name is Claiborne. Does that ring a bell?”
“I had no say in all that, besides, how could I? I was a kid. I was never allowed to ask them any questions about my family or how I ended up living with them. All they ever said was that Gina’s mother Theresa was my father’s cousin and therefore the closest relative. But I never believed any of that bullshit, so I hired some private detectives to dig up some dirt about them and my history, once I was old enough and earned enough money. However, none of my efforts worked.” her voice trailed away from him, slowly turning her simple story into a deep depressing history lesson for which their relationship, if you could call it like that, was too fresh and too young to handle. So she had to quickly go back to the main topic of his question, “so to answer your question, we are somewhat like cousins, but I consider her more of a friend…I had to endure her bratty attitude my whole life and I learnt to handle her, so yeah….we’re friends if that answers your question.”
Thomas saw the look in her eyes, the drop of sadness and realization that she had no real family and in fact, could have lost her life just like the rest of her family did. He was never someone to publicly comfort anyone, heck, he would rarely do that in private either. However, some instinct inside of him just made him move without thinking. He reached out and grabbed her hand, as gently as he could: “come here.” he whispered, just barely recognisable above the sound of the music and football game playing in the background of the pub. Isabelle just looked at him, not knowing what to do or say, so he took things in his own hands, literally. Thomas pulled her body closer to him until she was close enough for him to wrap his arms around her, hugging her in his warmth.
Isabelle gasped at the sudden hug, not expecting a reaction like this coming from a usually brutal man. After a few hesitant moments, she wrapped her hands around his torso and back, hiding her face in the crook of his neck, before whispering: “sorry about that sappy story.”
“It’s quite alright, love. I don’t mind knowing more about you.” his hands slid over the tips of her hair, not letting her go, but instead allowed her to control the duration of the hug. To prevent any awkwardness in a silent hug he kept on talking, “to agree with you, yes, my family told me about your family. Not much, but enough to find it fascinating.”
Isabelle suddenly pulled away from his neck and looked at his face: “what do you know?”
The sudden burst of interest made him chuckle: “my mother spoke about your family as an influential family during her childhood. Your grandfather owned a huge part of the racing tracks. His brother was a big name in the insurance business, yet they were not getting along very much. They were jealous of one another and wanted everything for themselves, hence leading to a literal war between the two parts of the family. I was not much older than you when the murdering happened, so I can’t tell you much. But from what I’ve heard, some members of the family itself were the killers.”
“Great, my family is made out of lunatics like you.” she scoffed and pursed her lips, rolling her eyes.
“Oi, who are you calling lunatic?” he grabbed onto her hips a bit tighter, “I’m being a caring boyfriend by sharing my knowledge with you and you insult me?”
“Oh, boyfriend?” she rose her eyebrows in surprise and amusement, “since when are we on boyfriend and girlfriend terms?”
Thomas smirked at her teasing, before leaning in and whispering in her ear: “since you were so close to ripping my clothes off in the distillery.”
“What makes you think I don’t wanna do that now as well?” her fingers slowly slid over the collar of his suit.
“As much as I would hope that’s true, you’re only saying that to escape your punishment for insulting me.”
“Punishment? What am I? Four?” she laughed pulling away from him, “well then Mr Shelby, how would you punish me for saying the truth? Or should I call you daddy, just to get those daddy issues onto the table?” the doe eyes hid the spitfire that she actually was.
“Oh, love, you’re playing a dangerous game here.” Thomas added, taking a drag from his cigarette.
She simply smirked at him and returned back to her drink, crossing her legs, leading to her dress being pushed upwards, revealing more of her milky thighs, yet she did not add anything to the conversation.
Thomas’ eyes wandered over her body, at least the parts which were visible to him. He thought he had enough will power to ignore her teasing and go back to his beer, but with every second the tension only grew and with that other parts of his body as well. To the point where he could not stand it anymore. He put his cigarette away and grabbed onto her sides, raising her with his arms, only to place her down on his lap, legs on resting on either side of him: “mind telling me what you’re doing Mr Shelby?”
Isabelle was amused staring at the frustrated expression on his face, cheeks just barely blushed but the eyes dark and hungry. His hands roamed down her back to her plump ass, holding roughly on it, “Punishment.” he whispered before slapping her ass over the fabric of her dress. Thankfully the sound of the football game was loud enough to cover the echoing of the slap.
She opened her mouth in a mix of shock and lust, her eyes looked at Thomas with disbelief: “Did you just slap my ass, Mr Shelby?”
Thomas just kept quiet, a grin growing on his face as he repeated the thing once again on the other butt cheek. Isabelle just returned the grin: “don’t you think this is something for the bedroom and not a pub?”
“We both know that would not be a punishment for you then, you vixen.” his hands groped over the sensitive flesh of her butt.
Her hands wrapped around his neck, her lips placing sensual kisses and pecks over his chin and the corner of his mouth: “take me home, Tommy and I will show you what a punishment would be.”
“Don’t you think our dates end too quickly in bed?” he joked as her lips trailed down his jaw until they finally found their way to his ear where she whispered a reply; “who said anything about the bed?” She heard a groan escape his lips and with that she was off his lap and on her feet, fixing the length of her dress before she was harshly dragged away from the table by Thomas’ hand. He was hasty and apparently, the lack of bed caused a great wish to head home.
Throwing some dollar bills onto the main bar, he nodded his head to the bartender and headed out with Isabelle. His car was parked not too far from the pub, but the harsh autumn wind resulted in shivers and goosebumps all over her half-exposed body. Thomas was soon to notice that and as a proper boyfriend cliché, he wrapped his jacket over her shoulders, covering at least some parts of her naked skin. Hand still holding hers, he led her to his car, where he opened the door for her, what earned him a peck on the lips. An eye-roll and an enjoying smile was his reply to that before he finally stepped into his car and made his way back to her apartment.
Once they arrived back into her building, Thomas felt like he was already somewhat at home in that place. He knew exactly which way to go, what floor to choose in the elevator and what door was hers. Yet there was something exciting about coming to her apartment, like two horny teenagers, wanting nothing else but some release. As soon as she unlocked the door Thomas pushed her inside, slamming the door closed behind him and pressing her chest against his, her lips finding his right away, her nails gently dragging over his scalp, while he was busy deepening the kiss and making his way to the living room with her, to the couch to be exact. There was something so appealing about not going straight to the bedroom. Either that on the horniness was simply too big to wait any longer.
Without breaking the kiss, he sat down on her couch and pulled with him, allowing her to sit on his lap: “The record for the shortest dates go to…” He whispered against her lips, she grinned in return and finished his sentence for him: “to the couple with the longest fuck.” his hands held her face the next second; his lips on hers.
His lips moulded on hers so well she felt herself trying to get closer to him; her hand holding his jacket, feeling his tongue slowly slipping into her mouth making her open it. His tongue exploring her mouth, his hands letting go of her face so he could hold her hips and make her rub against him again. This time her moan was swallowed by him, and he was getting hard again. The air in the room was hot. Once she opened her eyes, he broke the kiss and instead started to kiss and bite her neck, definitely leaving red marks on it. Isabelle’s fingers pulled on his hair again and he moaned on her neck making her push herself down on him harder.
He lifted his head to face her, his already plump looking mouth swollen and red making her almost salivate. Her lips were starting to get numb when he stopped kissing her again, just to remove unzip her dress. His rough fingers slowly dragged the zipper down her back, allowing the sleeves to slide down her arms. Taking advantage of the small distance between the, she began undressing him as well, throwing his jacket somewhere in the living room.
His eyes grew once he realized what she was wearing underneath the dress: “God I knew I had to rip that dress off your body as soon as I saw it.” Her breasts were covered in a red bra, apparently his favourite colour. His hands holding her breasts, squeezing them lightly, almost making them come out of her bra.
“You look so fucking hot in red,” he commented, without letting go of her breasts. His fingers played with the rim of her bra, sliding his digits underneath it. She bit her lip, while he teased her sensitive skin. However, as much as he enjoyed the bra, he enjoyed what was under it, even more, therefore, the bra was soon also lost somewhere in the living room. His eyes stared at her naked chest for a few seconds before his mouth went against one of them a short time later, and Isabelle’s head was thrown back as she felt his tongue pass around her nipple; one of his hands holding the other breast. Her hands were holding onto his shoulders gripping tightly onto him, yet her body movements had stopped for some time, and she only noticed when his other hand came back to her waist forcing her to move against his crotch once again. The moan that escaped through her mouth was way higher than the others, and the bastard smirked against her flesh as soon as he heard it. His lips soon shifted, paying attention to her other breast. She decided to do something by guiding her hands down his abdomen, unbuttoning his shirt. The skin of his belly shivered under her fingers, and his eyes opened and looked at her
As he was looking at her with those light blue eyes that turned darker just filled with lust, he threw his shirt off his body, while the dress she was wearing was still handing over her hips. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, love.” Isabelle stared down at him, her hand gently tugging on his short hair, her mouth opened after hearing him. “I know how dirty you are, love, just like me. Punishing you would be a pleasure to you, such a fucking vixen.” He finished, biting his lip still looking at her with those dark eyes. At that point, she could confirm that her panties were ruined and wet.
“Why did you stop moving, love? Dirty talk is your kryptonite?” Thomas put both of his hands on her butt, rocking her body over his covered crotch while squeezing her ass with so much will that her head fell forward, and she placed her face in the crook of his neck. Her mouth opening again to let the air out, his mouth close to her ear again. “By that wetness, love, I guess I was right. I bet I could make you cum just from doing this, hm?” His words and the friction making hard to think.
“Fuck, look at you, Izzy. So fucking hot, getting yourself off on my trousers. You ruined them, love. I’m trying so hard to not just fuck the shit out of you right now.” He let go of her hips, putting his hands by his sides, but she simply could not stop moving. Her mouth is still open on his neck, letting out gentle moans while pressing sloppy kisses over his hot skin. “I think I should just let you come for me, would you like that baby?” she just nodded moaning his name. “Yeah, you want that? God you’re so sexy like this” he rested his head against the back of the couch, a smirk growing on his face, just enjoying the goddess getting herself off just by rocking over his crotch. “I’m going to fuck you so well after this, gonna bury my cock deep inside of your tight little pussy.”
“Fuck Thomas! You kiss your mother with that mouth.” despite being a literal mess, Isabelle could not help herself but to throw in some jokes. But they were cut off really quick as she felt the knot in her stomach getting tighter.
“No. I kiss you with that mouth.” He held her chin forcing her head up, pressing a hot, hungry kiss onto her lips. His mouth opens just a little letting some low moans escape The hand holding her jaw dropped, and two of his fingers came to her lips, slowly sliding inside of her mouth. Isabelle felt so turned on by it, automatically wrapping her lips around them, “Such a dirty girl, wrapping perfectly around my fingers. Makes me wanna put something else between those sexy lips.”
Isabelle’s eyes stared at him, dark and needy. Her hips kept on moving in a steady rhythm, yet she could not get enough of his dirty whispers and naughty thoughts. She was almost there. Her body was burning, and she couldn’t stop moaning even with his fingers in my mouth. Thomas was completely hard against her, her panties were not even a barrier anymore since they were so wet, but as soon as he pushed his lower body upwards, she let go.
She grabbed onto his neck with much force, a load groan leaving her lips as she finally felt her release running down her body: “Tommy, oh fuck, Thomas!”
“That’s it, love, fucking come for me” His voice was low and rough, her whole body throbbing without her control. Thomas hugged her body, preventing her from falling back and hitting the floor. His name coming out a few more times through her mouth, almost just like a prayer, “That was so hot, love.” Thomas chuckled softly and she sighed, a soft laugh left her lips as she realised what they had just done. It was desperate, literally feeling like horny teenagers, but it felt so fucking hot, but she wanted more. And Thomas wanted it as well. He put her down on the floor, allowing her to slowly stand on her feet, which subsequently caused the dress to fall down the floor, revealing the matching red panties, which were dripping wet at that point. Thomas stared at her for a moment. The tightness of his pants became evident. Isabelle soon noticed his stare and placed a hand on her hip: “you wanna take a picture or you wanna rather rip my panties off and fuck me, Tommy?” she laughed at his surprised reaction.
“Actually, I’d like to do both, but fucking you is my priority.” he commented before finally sliding the tight trousers down his legs, together with his shoes and socks, “I’m hard for too long, love. I don’t think I can’t hold it for much longer.” He slid his underwear down and Isabelle swallowed hard, her teeth already gripping onto her lower lips, preventing her from letting out an erotic moan. Isabelle sat down onto the couch, now free from her panties. Her legs slowly opened up for him, giving him the perfect view of her soaked core, as she leaned her head where he was leaning only a moment ago, hand grabbing onto her breast, playing with herself. Thomas cursed under his breath, moving his body so he was staying between her legs, his hands going up her thighs and she could already feel the heat coming back into her core.
“We never had dinner tonight, I might need to devour you instead.” her eyes widened and soon he leaned down, placing a sloppy kiss on her swollen lips. She could feel his member lean against her stomach, one of her hands moving towards it. She wrapped her hand around his hard member, causing them both to let out a moan at the same time. Her steady but slow movement made him break apart from her lips. The wet on the tip helping my movements, starting slow but getting at a fast pace kind of quickly, “You vixen!”
“You don’t want me to wrap my pretty little lips around your cock, Tommy?” Isabelle purred, her hand still pumping his hard shaft.
“Trust me, love, you can bet your sexy ass I’d love to see those lips around my cock, but that can wait for the next round, right now I want to be inside you.” His face was inches from hers. “Inside that pretty little pussy again” His hands released her, and he leaned on one of them so he could leave the other slowly pass by her breasts to her lower abdomen, making her shiver from head to toe. Despite his hand being rough, the warmth of his skin made her melt away. His hand touched her core and the malicious smile was back on his face.
“You think you can handle another orgasm before my cock, love?” Just the thought of the question made her moan loudly again. His fingers making quick and hard circular movements over her clit. Then two of his fingers got inside her without warning and she opened my eyes staring at Thomas, who was still smirking. He leaned on his knees, letting his other hand hold her onto the couch, forcing her back to be pressed down onto the soft furniture. “Yes, that’s right, love!” her vision was blurred, and she felt pleasure splash out of her. She could not hold it much longer as she was still raw and sensitive from her previous orgasm. She felt her body shake. This orgasm stronger and more intense than before. As she opened her eyes, Thomas was occupied by licking his fingers, a low groan escaping his throat as soon as he felt the hot liquid coating his mouth.
Isabelle bit her lip, staring at the man kneeling between her legs. However, the pining ended sooner than expected as he wrapped his arms around her lower back and pulled her from the couch, laying there instead of her. His back was now against the couch, a hand guiding Isabelle to sit on top of him. An eyebrow perked up as she tried to connect the dots on what he wanted. He laid on his back, his hand on his member moving slowly "You can’t expect me to do the work, now can you love?”
“Is that so? You want me to ride you, Tommy?” she challenged him, as she positioned herself on top of him, her wet core, pressing against his lower stomach. A groan left his lips as he kept on pumping his member. The vixen on top of him slid her finger up his chin to his lips, where he immediately bit her fingertip as soon as she touched his lips, “Want me to ride you, baby?” she slowly rose her hips, moving them downwards until she was hovering above his cock. He took this into his own hands, literally as his hand guided him inside of her. Once he was halfway inside of her she felt him stretching her without mercy. Her head pushed back, an erotic moan escaping her lungs. His hand stopped at her hips, pulling her down; a groan coming out of his mouth.
Her body started to move and had to lean her hands on the couch, just above Thomas’ head. As she was occupied with finding a steady rhythm and not falling apart too quickly, Thomas seemed to enjoy the sight he was having. Her hot sweaty skin, glistening in front of his eyes, breasts bouncing together with her hips. Therefore, it came as no surprise as his hands dropped to her waist and rising to her breasts. His lower lip pinned between his teeth and Isabelle could not not stare down at him, “Oh Thomas!” she whined, feeling his hands groping her sensitive breasts. Throwing her body back, Thomas held on to her waist again, lifting her and thrusting his hips back to hers.
Her hands closed tightly holding his hair and pulling him up. Sitting up he wrapped his arms around her back and ass, pressing their chests against one another. Their lips met in a desperate, sweaty kiss. Teeth crashing, lips smacking. Their moans and pants filled the room, her hips moving in a quicker pace. His nose brushing against hers and her eyes closed tightly as she felt his movements slow down, but still getting harder: “Look at me, Izzy, look at me, love” Thomas whispered hoarsely, and she forced myself to open her eyes. “I want you to come for me again, and I want to feel you come undone for me.” Her body was so sensitive, yet so needy of more, it should have been illegal to feel that good. Her lips pressed against his once more, hands resting on his neck to support herself.
“Tommy! God, Thomas!” she almost screamed his name, his hands on her waist wouldn’t let her stop and she could feel him throbbing inside her.
“Fuck I’m so close!” Thomas groaned huskily. The knot in her stomach getting so tight that she was clenching against him. He let a real growl out of his throat as her walls pressed against him, making it hard for him to get out of her.
“Tommy, fuck, I’m so close, fuck” she could no longer control her orgasm as one of his hands moved over her clit, rubbing quick small circles over the nerve. Her body pushing forward, making him hit just the right spot inside of her. Her body fell completely over his, and she could feel him spilling inside her. She raised her head to see his complexion of complete pleasure in his face, his mouth open and sweat running down his forehead. Their breaths were soon returning to normal, and we were still sitting on the bed until we calmed down.
He helped her part from him, placing her exhausted body onto the couch next to him. She felt empty as soon as he came out from inside of her. Despite their heartbeat slowly returning to its normal speed, they were still somewhat out of breath. She looked at him as he reached into his trousers and pulled out a cigarette, before sitting down next to her, an arm placed behind her head, resting against the couch.
Thomas looked at her from the corner of his eyes. Without saying a word, she climbed onto his lap again and took the cigarette from his fingers and took a drag herself. She was not much of a smoker, but something about nicotine after a hot round of sex did something to her. The dark cloud escaped her lips, her head leaning back, eyes closed. And that image made something click in Thomas’ brain, and so he cupped her chin and pulled her into another hungry kiss as if he did not just spend hours fucking her brain out: “Bloody hell woman, you will be the death of me.” he breathed out against her lips.
She chuckled wrapping her hands around his neck, her fingers still holding the cigarette: “what a lovely way of dying.”
“Fuck it.” she uttered, the hands resting on his shoulders slid to the collar of his expensive suit and gripped onto its fine material, causing him to crash his chest against hers. Their faced stood inches apart from one another for just a moment, Thomas searching her eyes to be sure of her implications, yet she only focused on his lips which she devoured in the next moment. Her lips were the indicator that she, in fact, ceased the fight and finally gave in to him.
Her eyes closed the second she felt his lips move against hers. Once she was deeply focused onto the kiss and knew that Thomas did not plan on moving away, she switched up the position of her hands to his head, sliding them over the sides of his head to his cheeks and jaw, where she left them, as the couple focused on deepening the kiss.
Thomas could not contain the tiniest smile that grew on his lips as she for once did not try to end the kiss or pull away. Their noses smashed against one another’s as their tilted their heads, intensifying the kiss. His hands held onto her sides, keeping her pressed against the barrel and against him. He did not care if anyone would see them, at that moment he felt something he rarely does – genuine happiness.
Air was not a necessity for either one of them. All they needed was to feel one another, and that would have succeeded if it was not for Thomas’ phone that started vibrating in his pocket. He wanted to ignore it, however, Isabelle had to make a remark while keeping her lips against his: “I hope that’s your phone I feel vibrating.” she chuckled against his lips, leaving one last peck on his already plump pink lips, before leaning back against the barrel, allowing him to attend to his phone call.
Thomas cursed through his teeth as he kept his body close to hers, a hand still holding onto her side while the other reached inside of his pocket and fished out his cell phone that was plastered by his brother’s name on it. He answered the call that seemed to have been in the waiting for a moment: “Arthur.” Thomas cold way of answering would throw most people off their guard, but not his brother.
“Where the bloody hell are you? You have a meeting that was supposed to start 20 minutes ago.” as Arthur was speaking in his usual loud manner, Thomas kept his eyes on Isabelle, who was momentarily biting her lip, while Thomas’ thumb circled against the part of her waist he was holding. The way his eyes searched her body only caused her to raise her eyebrows at him, to which he returned with the same gesture.
Pushing her body off the barrel, Isabelle’s hand cupped one side of his neck, while her lips pressed against the other side, leaving sensual and slow kisses over his hot skin. Her lips brushed over his pulse, feeling how its pace quickened. “Just tell them I am running late.” Thomas answers were even shorter than usual, due to the lack of concentration.
“Just get your ass over here and stop fucking around!” Arthur shouted, which ended up quite ironic considering Thomas wished he was fucking around in that moment. Thomas just ended up the call and shoved his phone back inside his pocket before pulling Isabelle away from his neck and pressing his lips against hers once again.
A moan escaped her lips, vibrating over to him. She pressed her body against his, grinding against him in ways he knew very well would lead to something they should not be doing in such a place, at least not when they were not alone.
“Love, as much as I would enjoy ripping that tight little dress of your body, we can’t be doing that here.” he commented slowly pulling away from her lips, “besides I have to get back to the office, my lunch break ended an hour ago.”
“You spent your lunch break sending me tons of roses and trying to get me to be with you?” she summarized with a questioning tone in her voice.
“Gotta spend that hour wisely.” he confessed and received a laugh from her, following by another kiss, “but seriously, love. We should be heading back to work now. Don’t worry, I don’t think this will be our last trip to this little place.”
As soon as he went back to the topic of the distillery, she felt something kick her in the guts, but she covered it all with a wide smile. She took his hand and walked outside with him, nodding to Oliver who hopefully did not catch any of the things happening in the back of his distillery.
It seemed like the time they have spent in the distillery made Thomas extra polite, as he not only held her hand as they were back to the car, but he also insisted on opening the door for her and helping her to get inside. Isabelle had to admit that she rather enjoyed the attention he was giving her, despite Gina’s plan being always in the back of her head.
Once they headed back towards Isabelle’s office, Thomas cupped her chin, pressing yet another kiss onto her lips: “you want some water?” she asked with an amused look on her face.
“No, why?” he frowned at her question.
“You seem very thirsty, Thomas.” she laughed, referring to all of the attention she was getting, including the big number of kisses she received in the last couple of minutes. As a reply to her teasing, Thomas grabbed her by her waist and pulled her to him, causing her to let out a small squeak that was soon shut off by his lips and the comment, “I will show you thirsty.”
The whole ride back to the office was composed of kisses, touching and the occasional small talk that led to consensual teasing, which lead back to the kissing part.
However, just before she headed out of the car to get back to her job, Thomas stopped her by holding onto her wrist: “I’ll pick you up from home at 8, be ready.” he ordered before placing one last peck on her lips and letting her step out of the car. Once she was outside, the car drove away, and she was left there standing bewildered of how one ride to the distillery changed her whole relationship status.
After an actually quite productive day in the office Isabelle, despite having inhaled at least a ton of rose scent, was feeling very joyful. Even if she should probably prepare for the death sentence Gina will give her once she finds out about the little fling going on between her and Tommy, all she felt was delight and excitement. The sensation of doing something forbidden but enjoying every second of it made her ecstatic. Besides, unless Gina spots them together there is nothing she would have to fear.
Therefore, she did not hesitate once she heard someone knocking on her door an hour after she arrived home from work. She could have ignored it and pretended that the make-out session in the distillery never happened, but she could not delete that memory from her head. In fact, she would prefer to repeat and recreate such memories a lot more often.
“Bloody hell…” Thomas’ curse was the first thing that echoed inside of her apartment once she opened the door for him, greeting him in the outfit, she carefully picked for their first – well actually the second date. A tight, probably too tight, long-sleeved, black off the shoulder mini body con dress, made out of the softest velvety material. Her olive-toned chest and cleavage peaked out of the dress, her shoulders shining due to a mix of body lotion and highlighter. Her legs going on for ages until finally ending in a pair of black high heels. She smelled like she wanted to be devoured and Thomas was not far from that.
“Hello to you too, Mr Shelby.” she chuckled, grabbing onto his tie and pulling him inside of her apartment while closing the door being him. Her fingers wrapped around his neck, dragging him in until her lips finally met his, melting in a hungry kiss. She felt as if she wanted to skip the date and get to the fun part.
Thomas’ hands roughly held onto her hips, pressing her body against his. His strong hands felt weak against the velvety material of her outfit and wished nothing but to rip it off her body. But he knew that they would not come far if he did that: “God, love. You will be the death of me.”
“Mmm how about I show you some pleasure before you die, Tommy?” she whispered, her tongue teasingly licking over his upper lip.
“Even if all I want is to ravish you, love, we have a date to get to.” his fingers held onto her dress, thereby pulling it higher, exposing more of her delicate skin.
Leaning back, Isabelle frowned at the man, a sapped pout on her lips: “can’t we skip it?”
“No can’t do, love.” he gave her a faint smile, before cupping her chin and pulling her into a gentle yet short kiss, “maybe next time.” and with that, he grabbed onto her hand and made his way out of her apartment, not even allowing her to grab a jacket.
“What makes you so sure there will be a third date?” she tried to keep up with his speed, but her heels did not make it any less difficult.
Suddenly he stopped his tracks and she crashed into his back, letting out a tiny whimper. Once she looked at him, he met her eyes. The look in his eyes was so confident, yet so mysterious, making her only want him more. Difficult to understand. Seemingly secretive. “I just know.” then he turned around and walked once again. Isabelle looked at him with a frown in between her eyes and a slightly opened mouth, before quickly walking after him.
As they stepped into the front of his SUV she realized that whenever they went on dates, he would be the one driving them and not his driver. To him it was a sign of power and masculinity, to be the one driving his date around and not someone else. Most likely a dumb reason, but Isabelle did not mind. In fact, she enjoyed staring at his face as he tried not to show his confusion due to driving on the other side of the road. Because unlike in his home country, in America they drive on the right side of the road.
Her eyes kept staring at his profile, admiring his chiselled and prominently outlined cheekbones and jawline. The faintly pale skin, plump kissable lips, long dark eyelashes. Unconsciously, she began biting and sucking on her lower lip, her legs pressed against one another, thighs rubbing against each other, to the point that even Thomas noticed it. Yet his face did not show any traits of the enjoyment he felt inside. Instead, he allowed his hand to move from the gear lever to the inside of her thigh, cupping one. A breath stuck in her throat as she felt the warmth of his hands so close to her core.
“Love?” he called out.
“Yeah?” she looked at him, with lust in her eyes.
“You need some water? You seem thirsty.” he chuckled, and she looked at him with shock and disbelief. His hand pulled away from her thigh after giving it a few pats, moving back to the gearstick.
She turned her head to the window and ignored him and his perfect face for a bit until they finally arrived at their destination, which happened to be a bar in the Upper West Side of the town. Not a fancy bar, which would be appropriate for the outfit she was wearing, but instead a real British pub in the middle of the Big Apple. Somehow, she felt bad for being surprised at his choice of date location, considering this was a big part of his life back in the UK. These places would be the most comfortable for him.
Therefore, she forgot his teasing and instead waited for him to step out of the car so she could take his hand and allow him to lead her inside the pub. But before they even stepped inside, he brought the hand he was holding up to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles, throwing her a smile. Then she was hit with a strong smell of cigarettes and beer, coming out of the just-opened main entrance to the pub. It was mostly filled with men watching a football game and some youngsters drinking and laughing about random things.
Thomas however, did not plan on sitting with her in the middle of the pub, at the bar. One he ordered them some pints, he led her straight to a small booth at the other side of the pub, where they were at least partly separated from the rest of the costumers, allowing them to enjoy the vibe but still have some privacy.
“A Brummie taking me to a pub, revolutionary,” she smirked, sliding into the booth, with Thomas following her, his hand resting behind her shoulders.
“Had to introduce you to my world,” he commented before lighting a cigarette.
“I’ve been to pubs before, you know?” she replied, leaning a side of her face onto the palm of her hand, while resting her elbow against the table.
“But not with a Brummie, Izzy.”
“Izzy? I see we’re giving nicknames now.” she noticed, a mocking grin spreading on her lips.
“You’re the one who started calling me Tommy.”
“Because everyone calls you Tommy.”
“Only the people I care about,” he whispered, but she understood, and she eyes looked for his, searching for hints of jokes, but found none.
A waiter brought their drinks and vanished just as quickly as he arrived. “I don’t mind.” she leaned in and pressed a peck against his lips, “I like Izzy.”
Thomas inhaled another breath of nicotine, while Isabelle tried a sip of the Ale she received. “So, Izzy, how about to finally tell me what you’re and Gina up to?” hearing that question made Isabelle choke on the alcohol that was just about to go down her throat. She let out a few coughs before looking at him. The serious expression on his face did not mean anything good and she knew that she was screwed.
Her normally perfectly decorated and nice neat room was covered with half-used tissues, which covered random spots around the floor, mostly next to her bed. The cupboard next to her bed, which was usually half-empty was not filled with cough medicine, unused tissues and a cup of hot earl grey tea. Her bed was now made out of more pillows and blankets than usually, all due to her wrecking in the form of a common cold. Her body felt like shit, her porcelain skin was now pinkish and feverish. Her nose every now and then stuffed or runny, missing those days when she could easily breathe through it. Her body felt weak, unable to move any longer than a few minutes, which were just enough to run into the bathroom from time to time to either barf or pee, sometimes both. She felt disgusting, she did not wish to be seen by anyone, let alone Thomas. To her bad luck, she had planned to go on a date with him exactly on the day where she felt invalid and unwell. She texted him hours ago saying she was feeling a bit under the weather and could not attend their date. Laid up on her bed was everything she could do for at least a few days. However, it was not so bad that she had to be hospitalised. All she needed was a few days of solid rest.
But Thomas being Thomas would not simply accept her rejection. At that point, he knew her better than that. He knew she would not just refuse a date with him, unless she a really good reason behind it. After a few calls, including one to her and his own office, he not only found out that she was ill and did not come to work for a few days already, but also cancelled all his meetings for the rest of the day so he could attend to his sick girlfriend.
On his way to her apartment, he did a few stops to her favourite restaurant, to the pharmacy and the supermarket, to get her everything she could possibly need in such times. He did not have much experience when it comes to taking care of someone unless it were his brothers. But Isabelle was special, she was one of his rare loves and he wanted to take care of her as much as possible. And since he did not know what she could possibly need, he just bought everything and then drove straight to her home.
As he already knew the password to enter her flat, he did so by observing her as they visited it a few times for some scandalous times, he simply stepped inside together with all the things she needed. All he heard was the TV playing in her bedroom. To which he hoped she was focused on, so he could place all the things like juices and fruit in the fridge, before placing a hot chicken soup from the take-out box onto a deep plate. Next to it a few of her favourite macarons from her favourite restaurant and a chocolate mousse. He was not sure if she would even eat anything, but she had to at least finish the soup.
Making his way to her bedroom he heard her blowing her nose into a tissue and cursing right afterwards. He chuckled knowing she was still well enough to complain about herself being sick. Stepping into her room with a tray of food he looked at his girlfriend, laying half-dead under what seems to be fifteen blankets: “you feeling warm enough, love?”
Isabelle looked up at him with a surprised look on her face before opening her mouth in disbelief: “oh no, not you,” she quickly covered her face with one of the blankets.
“Not the welcoming I expected, but alright.” his eyebrows rose in disbelief, but he still brought the food onto her cupboard, before settling down next to her dead-sick body.
“You don’t wanna see me, love?”
“No, go away.” she coughed up a few times right after sending him away.
“And why is that?”
“I look disgusting. I don’t wanna be seen like this.”
Thomas looked at her blankets with sympathy, a tiny smile climbing on his lips. His fingers gently tugged onto the edge of her blanket, pulling it downwards until he finally saw her makeup-less face. Her hair was uncombed and all over the place, her nose pinkish from all the blowing, while the bags under her eyes showed a darkish colour, a sign of the lack of sleep she must have gotten in the last few days.
“Why didn’t you call me when you got sick? I had to hear it from your secretary that you’ve been absent for half the week.” he threw her a bit of an irritated look, but as soon as he heard her sniff her nose once more he sighed, “I’m your boyfriend, am I not supposed to take care of you?”
“I am a programming expert, speak four languages and can even survive your family dinners and yet I am crushed by the fucking common cold. I don’t wanna be seen in this state by anyone.” she groaned and threw a pillow onto her face.
Thomas rolled his eyes before gently removing the pillow, moving some strands of hair away from her face: “I don’t care how bad you look, I just want you to get better. Therefore, I got you some chicken noodle soup and your favourite desserts. How about that?”
“You did that for me?” she slowly moved her tottering body into a sitting position and looked at the food on her cupboard.
“The juice and fruits are in your fridge and I’ve got you some pain reliefs and cough drops.”
Isabelle looked at him for a moment, trying to grip onto the feeling she just felt. Besides the illness she was going through, something else was sneaking its way into her heart. Immediately she collected all the strength she had left and hugged him, hiding her hot face into his neck, “I’m sorry for hugging you, you’ll probably get sick now too.” she whispered in his neck.
“It’s ok, love. I don’t mind,” he replied, gently stroking her hair with one hand while holding her close with the other, “but you should eat something.”
She whined against him, not wanting to let go. All she wanted was to be held by him and make the sickness go away. At the one hand, she did not wish to be been by anyone, let alone Thomas, but on the other hand, she did want to be taken care of, and that’s exactly what Thomas did. She was not used to that thought. None of her so-called boyfriends ever took care of her, Thomas was the first who would do something like that for her and so it took her a bit to get used to it.
“I will. Later. But can you just hold me for a bit, I really feel off right now.” she was using her delicate voice to get him to give in.
“Anything for you, love.” he slowly let go of her, letting her move back to under her fortress of blankets, while he undid his shoes and jacket, before slowly climbing under her blankets and wrapping his strong arms around her, her face resting on his chest. As he was running the tips of his fingers over her scalp, she was finally able to rest enough to fall asleep on him. He could most likely get infected as well, and get himself sick, but he did not give a fuck at that moment. All he wanted was to make her feel better and if that meant getting ill as well, he would take the risk. The heat that radiated from her blankets and their bodies made him fall asleep soon after her and so the couple was knocked out for hours with some random TV show playing in the background.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Isabelle breathed out with a sigh.
“Hello to you too, love.” the raspy voice of her favourite, yet also least favourite gangster echoed from the other side of the room. She wondered how she did not realise someone else was in her office, her senses could have been fogged with the smell of the roses still harshly lingering, due to their great amount.
“How the fuck do you always find your way in here?” she groaned raising her arms upwards, her fingers cramping from the anger she tried to sustain in herself. Just when she thought she got rid of him, he once again found his way inside.
“Considering your receptionist still think I’m your husband, it was not hard. Besides I’ve been calling you for weeks.”
“Odd, that’s exactly how long I’ve been ignoring you.” her eyes moved to the corners of her eyeballs, a gentle frown appearing between her eyebrows as she sarcastically let out that sentence.
Thomas scoffed at her replied and nodded his head, his fingers already reaching for his cigarette box, pulling out one of to light it on. Meanwhile, Isabelle was trying her best to remove all the vases of red roses from her desk so she could get back to her work.
As she was busy with that task, Thomas made his way behind her, letting out a breath filled with nicotine, wrapping her rose-filled sense with a new smell. While one hand was holding the cigarette, the other reached out to get a hold of Isabelle’s hand: “You owe me a tour of my new business.”
“I don’t owe you shit. You can easily get the address and visit it by yourself.” she groaned, yet did not make any attempt to move away from him, despite him clearly invading her personal space.
“I don’t think so, love. I’d much rather you show it to me.” his lips leaned closer to her ear, his deep voice pulling her into him, “and while we’re there, maybe we can christen it as well.” the dark chuckle leaving his lips caused a sickening expression form on her face.
“You’re disgusting and I hate you.” she spat out, refusing to turn around and face the smug son of a bitch.
“Mmm then why are you still holding my hand?” his lips pressed against her other ear, making her realise that she has been holding his hand for the whole time. And not only did she hold it, her fingers almost intertwined with his, not that he would complain about that.
Abruptly she pulled away from him and moved a few feet to his right, just enough so he could not approach her anymore: “Fine. Fine! I will fucking show you that fucking place, Mr Shelby. But then this will have to stop, the flowers,” she pointed at all the vases around her office and then continued, ”the calls, the disgustingly perverted messages. And just because I never reply does not mean I have not read the shit you have been sending me. You have no shame, Shelby.”
“Yet you never blocked my number, never changed your number and never told your receptionist I am not your husband.” his calm voice corrected each and every one of her reasons to complain.
She opened her mouth, trying to think of any smart remark or come back, yet she knew it was useless and just closed her mouth, shooting him a glare: “Fine! Get out and wait for me downstairs, I will take you to the fucking brewery.”
His eyes analysed her and everything she said, but no expression on his face would tell anyone anything. “As you wish, love.” he respected her, most likely because he won that argument and she finally gave in, after weeks of him trying to contact and reach her. It might have not been as excessive as she makes it appear, because both of them had lives and jobs to take care of, but he did indeed try a lot of ways to reach her, but he would never go to those lengths to stalk her or threaten her. Teasing was a different category though, that he could not deny he did.
Once he was outside of her office she snapped out of the cold attitude and panicked like a prisoner before his death sentence. Not only did she never own a brewery, nor did she know how any of those work, nor did she know a brewery is a business that makes and sells beer and not spirits. She had no clue about the process of making liquor. It was all Gina’s fault for pulling her into all this shit and she would be the one who would pull her out of there.
Immediately she dialled her number and hoped she would for once pick up her phone at the first ring and not keep her suffering with her panic all alone: “pick up, pick up, pick up you, stick up little-”
“Hello hun!” to her surprise, in the middle of her cursing she might have summoned the witch herself
“-Gina! We have a problem. Ignoring his calls did not work. Thomas is waiting for me downstairs. He demands I show him the brewery and I don’t own a fucking brewery Gina! What the fuck do I do now?!” Isabelle was pacing around her office, her hand running through her hair as she let out annoyed groans from time to time.
“Calm your tits Izzy, I will send you the address of the place my friend owns. And it’s not a brewery, it’s a fucking distillery, you moron.”
“Does it look like I give a fuck about that?! My business with alcohol is to drink it, not to fucking make it!”
“Oh shut up. Go to that address, I will tell Tyler to keep it open for you and pretend like he works for you. Just don’t touch anything or he will know you have no clue what you’re doing. Don’t fuck this up Isabelle, or-”
“I know, I know, I fucking know. Don’t be all over my neck with that. I know what I have to do. Just send me the address and find a way to end this sick game of yours.” Isabelle hung up straight after saying that because she did not wish to listen to Gina attacking her or defending herself.
Isabelle let out a long sigh, closing her eyes and trying to contain herself, to not appear frustrated or caught off guard. She had to seem perfectly cool and collected. Placing her phone into her bag, she headed down to the reception where the handsome gangster stood, waiting for her in his crisp suit and tie, like he just came out of a business meeting, which may as well be true, considering he came in the middle of the day.
“Ready, love?” he looked at her with his usual empty expression, however, there was something in his eyes that was different than when he spoke to other people. Something that pulled him closer and closer to her.
In spite of that Isabelle never noticed that spark, nor did she understand that he was acting somewhat differently when he was with her and when he was with others. To her, he was still a sex-driven gangster, who just wanted money and a quick fuck. And also Gina’s object of hatred, which automatically made him Isabelle’s object of hatred as well: “Let’s get this over with.” she rolled her eyes, making her way to the exit of the building with giving in to Thomas’ smooth words and that irritating nickname.
To avoid getting lost or having to convert to GPS and give herself away, Isabelle decided to drive with Thomas’ drive and just give him the address to the place. That way if the driver gets lost it would not be her fault and it would not be too obvious that she has no clue where they were going. At the same time that meant she would have to sit in the back seat together with Thomas, who would surely not keep his hands from her.
Once she settled in the back seat and gave the driver the address, they were already on their way. Thomas lit another cigarette and leaned against the other side of the back seat, keeping an eye on her from the corner of his eyes. As she was staring out of the window trying to figure where they were driving, Thomas analysed her expressions, her movements, every inch his eyes could spot. It has been a while since he was so intrigued by something or better yet by someone.
“Has no one ever taught you it’s rude to stare?” the sentence he once used on her was not used on him, as Isabelle finally turned her face towards him and caught him in his act.
“Trying not to ravish you right here in the back of the car.” he bluntly exposed his desires while taking a drag of his cigarette.
Isabelle opened her mouth in a mixture of disgust and surprise, she did not think he would say something in front of the driver, who seemed to not be bothered though: “would you shut the fuck up, we’re not alone, you pervert.”
“Means if we were alone you wouldn’t mind?” Thomas chuckled, moving his body closer to her, sliding towards the other side of the back seat.
“Oh no no no, you can’t pull that bullshit with me. I am not some British floozy that will fall for your face or your money.” she straightened her arm in front of herself, stopping him from coming closer.
“I know.” he simply replied, taking her hand between his fingers and placing a kiss on the back of her palm, “that’s why I like you, Isabelle.”
Her eyes looked for his, moving quickly and uncomfortably. She swallowed any saliva that was inside of her mouth and tried to think of anything to reply but feeling her hand in his rough, yet warm hand made her weak.
Thankfully the driver cut off the beautiful sentiment by opening the door for Isabelle as they have arrived at their destination. An old warehouse somewhere in Brooklyn, not a neighbourhood Isabelle often went to. The building was not massive, it was clearly a smaller distillery, nothing that could produce any amount even close to what Thomas’ companies produce. Yet knowing it belonged to Isabelle made him want it more than any of his own distilleries.
She fixed her dress once she stepped outside and cleared her thought, mentally thanking the driver that saved her from that burning car. Thomas on the other hand mentally cursed his driver, yet he did not say anything and kept his serious facade.
By the time they arrived there, Gina already informed her friend Oliver of the little lie he would have to keep up with and Izzy could not help but wonder how much she promised to pay him for that. From just looking at the man next to the big iron slide door, which seemed to be the entrance, Isabelle could have guessed that he must have been Oliver. And immediately Isabelle put on a wide grin, despite dying inside from shame, before she headed towards the man.
“Hello, Olly, how are you doing today?” the look in her eyes could have been read by Oliver who seemed to somewhat take pity on the woman who had to keep up with Gina’s bullshit.
“Fine, boss, I see you brought company today?” he responded to his alleged boss before looking towards the British man who stood right next to Isabelle.
“Oliver this is Mr. Shelby, from now on we will do business with him.” Isabelle pointed at Thomas before heading in while the two men shook hands really quickly, as Thomas wanted nothing more but to look at that biggest secret of Isabelle’s.
To not only his but also her surprise the distillery looked in very good shape, pretty modern interior, very robust and distinct equipment. Even someone as oblivious as Isabelle could have guessed that was a place where distillation takes place, especially the distillation of alcoholic spirits – and in her case, that would have been brandy.
“Brandy, huh? Why brandy?” Thomas made himself at home and walked in front of Isabelle, inspecting all of the machines and stages of distillation.
“Why not? I do not fancy vodka or rum, and whiskey is obviously outdone.” she clearly called him out at that point, and he knew that but let it slide with a chuckle. Oliver, on the other hand, did not come any closer to them. He still stood by the entrance, leaving the couple all alone. And that was what Isabelle feared. He was supposed to be by her side and help her with answering anything Thomas would like to know. And she knew he always wants to know something.
Gina was supposed to tell him that he was to help her, but obviously, he forgot about that part. Isabelle seemed anxious and tense, her timid posture and angsty look in her eyes did not help her at all.
“Which style of Brandy do you produce?” Thomas asked as he was sniffing some of the samples, standing next to a barrel of brandy.
“Styles?”
“Cognac, Armagnac, Spanish Brandy, Pisco, American Brandy, Grappa…there list goes on and on.” Thomas named some of the different types of brandy as she walked deeper into the distillery.
“Ah various styles, I don’t like to commit to just one, I like to have my options opened.” she avoided any clear answer and hoped that would satisfy him enough.
“And in what type of wood do you age it?”
“…cherry?” her voice was somehow broken at that point, not knowing any of the basic information any distillery owner would know.
As she was backing away from him, her body finally came in contact with one of the massive barrels where Oliver keeps his brandy, “that’s random, usually it would be in oak. But I guess cherry will do.” Thomas stepped in front of her, looking down at the gorgeous woman, who was clearly unsettled at that moment.
Isabelle nodded her head at his reply and sighed from the inside, relieved he did not suspect anything or did he? “You seem nervous.” he pointed out, his eyes checking her out.
“I’m not nervous, I just don’t like you.” and just like that, she snapped back to her bratty, hussy self. That bad-tempered, assertive characteristic made her so playfully to him because she reminded him of himself. His hand reached forward and cupped her cheek, gently stroking her warm skin with his thumb. Her heartbeat like crazy. Whenever he touched her, she did not know if she could hold up with her lies and schemes. With every curse word and groan that left her lips whenever she saw him, she felt more and more like an evil, scheming woman, yet shameless at the same time, because she was slowly falling for the man she was supposed to destroy together with Gina.
But whenever she felt him enter her personal bubble, whenever he touched her, whenever he called her love, she felt a tiny part of her wall chip and break away.
“When will you just stop this?” Isabelle looked him in the eyes unsure where that question came from and what he expected of her as an answer, “when will you stop pretending you don’t feel what I feel?”
“I have no idea what you mean.” she tried so hard to keep the same stern eye contact that he kept with her.
“You honestly want me to believe you do not feel any connection between us? No bloody electric shocks whenever we touch, no fucking strings pulling us closer?” he hissed through his teeth, obviously angry for being rejected so often with the same stupid lies.
She knew very well that he felt just as attracted to her as she felt attracted to him, but there would always be a but with her, “It’s been fucking weeks since I fucked you and all I can think about is you, you stubborn woman.” he hit the barrel next to her head with his fist, the anger slowly showing.
“Thomas-”
“Don’t give me excuses, you know God damn well you want me just as much as I want you.” he left her chin and grabbed her waist, crushing her chest against his. her hair moved graciously with the same kind of speed as she was pulled into him. Her hands found their spots on his shoulders, while she leaned a lot of her weight against him. He did not budge, still holding his footing without any problems.
“Thomas, we-”
“Give it a try Isabelle. You have nothing to fucking lose.”
“Expect my standards.” that was the last bratty comment that left her lips, one that was in the back of her mind for a while now, but she did not have the chance to let it out. Thomas looked sterned at her, so close to taking her right there against the barrel with Oliver standing just a hundred feet away, “yeah sorry, that one had to get out…”
“Bloody hell, you will drive me crazy.” he groaned, unsure how he will ever get the bratty part out of her, but one the other hand, he enjoyed that part as well.
His fingers slowly slid over her jaw, to her chin. His thumb pressed against her lower lip, while his eyes were focused to move from her lips to her eyes and back. “Give in, you stubborn vixen.”
Warning:Strong Language, Graphic Depictions Of Violence & Smut
Words: 4.3k
[A/N]: I’m thinking of randomly posting little snippets of Isabelle’s and Thomas’ relationship, which don’t directly have much to do with the plot but will give us more of a deeper look into their behaviour around one another. (aka wrote lot of smexy scenes and they don’t fit into the main plot but I still wanna post them hehe) So if you have anything you wanna see feel free to request :3
The morning sun peaked through the wide windows covering most of the walls of the grand room. The rays of sun moved from the empty space in the room to the bed in the middle of it, covering two bodies, tangled in one another with the sheets covering their bodies only partly. Thomas was laying on his back, his hair covering his forehead like bangs. His hand was wrapped around her shoulders like an inborn pattern of tendency. Isabelle was laying on her chest, her body resting against his chest, hair spread around her and the sheets like a fan. By the looks of their hair and bodies, which were covered with love bits and marks in various shades of pink, red and purple, it was obvious they were in for a long sleepless night. Despite all that, they looked very peaceful, as if it was just another morning for them.
Although they would have probably needed much more sleep to catch up with what they missed last night, they were business people, who were used to waking up early in the morning. The first one to do that was Thomas. Sleeping in was not a term known to him. His morning routine started early in the morning, so he could catch up with all the news. That morning was no different, or at least that’s what he thought.
As soon as he opened his eyes, all he wanted was a cigarette. But once his eyes caught the mess of brown hair laying on top of him, he forgot about the cigarette immediately. Most people would be uninterested in a woman that looked like her that morning: make up smudged all over her eyes and lips, hair resembling more of a birds nest than actual hair and the little bit of droll peaking at the corners of her lips. Unlike them, Thomas could not stop staring at the woman who caused him so many problems yet caught his interested like no one before.
His fingertips gently moved a loose strand of hair from her eyes, catching a peek at her peaceful face. His face expression would not expose any of his feelings, yet his heart beat a bit faster than usual when he was around her.
He just laid there for a few more moments, enjoying the silence and the view, before he had finally had to get up and probably head out home to change. Yet something held him back, and instead of leaving with his clothes, he decided to just skip that and take a shower at her place.
Gently lifting her upper body, he slid out of her grip and got up just after he placed her gently on top of some pillows, covering her naked back with her sheets. He wanted to stay with her, but he knew he had work to do. Lighting up a cigarette he took her in one last time before heading out to find her bathroom in her apartment. On his way there he realized the extent of the mess they left behind them from undressing last night. Panties hanging on lampshades, shoes chilling in the middle of the living room. It looked like they had quite a blast last night.
While Thomas was busy with his shower, Isabelle slowly woke up. Probably because of the lack of warmth in the bed or because she heard the water running. But her body denied her enough energy to get up. So, she just slowly opened her eyes and looked around herself. She was at home, yet naked and with a messy bedroom. After she rubbed her eyes and realized she slept with her makeup on she let out an annoyed groan, knowing she would have to change all her sheets because the makeup was most likely all over them. Yet the main reason why she would have to change them is the other stuff that was all over them.
She did not wake up with amnesia, she knew very well what happened last night, but she would have wished for nothing else but to forget that accident and move on with her life. Despite it is most likely the best sexual experience, she has ever received, she wanted to forget about it. Her being with him was a bad idea, it would cause her even more problems than it did when she first saw him.
Isabelle slowly sat up on her knees, the sheets falling down her naked body on a pool in front of her. She looked around herself and ran a hand over her messy hair. It was still too early and she was not late so there was enough time to send Thomas off and home that he would wish to forget about everything like she wished.
“What a view from up here.” the male voice made her gasp. She quickly pulled up the sheets and covered her naked chest as she looked at the man that just walked out of her bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist, “oh don’t cover on my account, it’s nothing I haven’t seen already.”
“What are you still doing here?” she glared at the gorgeous man, still wet from his shower, which was made obvious by the water drops glistening on his skin.
“Showered, figured it was quicker to do that here than to go home and then to work.” he shrugged and picked up his boxers and pants. His towel dropped soon afterwards, and Isabelle gasped once more, quickly covering her eyes with her hand: “nothing you haven’t seen already, love.”
“Something I wish I could forget.” she peeked through her fingers to check if he was decent or not. And while he was already in his pants, she could not stop staring at his still naked chest.
In the meantime, Thomas frowned at her statement: “you’d forget about it? If I remember correctly you were screaming my name last night, on more than one occasion, so I don’t see the reason why you’d want to forget that.” with every word he came closer to her until one knee rested on her bed and his fingers found the sheets.
“Thomas-”
“See? Doesn’t that sound much better than Mr Shelby?” he chuckled and tugged on the sheets.
“Thomas, this never happened. You caught me by surprise once, I won’t let it happen again.”
“You think this is a onetime thing?”
“Yes. This was a mistake. We were drunk and tipsy.” she held tightly onto the sheets, trying to cover some decency she has left.
Thomas chuckled and got up: “think whatever you want, love, but we both know the truth. This was the best night of your life and you knew very well that you could not resist me.” he put on his shirt and jacket.
“Oh, we’ll see about that.” she spat, sitting up straight.
“We will, indeed.” Thomas finally finished getting all his stuff and was about to head out when he stepped back to have a last look at her, “really, a view to die for.” he winked at her before he vanished behind the corner, leaving a hot mess behind him, ready to either kill him or kiss him.
Once he was out of her sight, Isabelle crashed her whole body back onto the bed and let out a loud groan. Running her hand over her face, she closed her eyes and wished she could forget about the night. Though that would be rather hard considering the little token he had left her on her nightstand: his cell phone.
As soon as she spotted it from the corner of her eyes, once she opened them again, she shook her head and glared at it: “mother fucker.”
Despite the wish to run downstairs and throw it in his face, she could not afford to make a scene so early in the morning. And besides, she had to get ready for work herself, which would take a while, considering the mess she was left in.
After an excruciatingly long shower and even a long period where she fixed her hair and make-up, Isabelle was finally ready to head out to work. That ended up being almost an hour late, but as the boss of her own company, she could probably afford to come in a bit late here and there. As she made her way to work inside of her car, she was surprised when an unfamiliar ring tone buzzed. Reaching out into her bag, she pulled out Thomas’ phone. On the screen appeared to be a name: Arthur. A side of her thought it would not be the best idea to get involved with even more Shelbys, but the other side of her wanted to know if all of them were such assholes, like the one she fucked the night before.
Answering the call, she put it on speakers and switched her focus back onto the road: “Hello?”
“Would you believe it? I happen to forget my phone at your place.” instead of an unfamiliar voice, she was greeted by the one she heard one too many times.
“Thomas. What a surprise.” she did not even try to make it sound like she was genuine with what she said.
“My mind must have been focused on other things.” she could hear the smirk from the other side of the call, and she wished she could punch it out of his gorgeous face.
“Don’t worry, I will send it to you, safe and sound.” she rolled her eyes, throwing a fake smile onto the road.
“How about you come and bring it to me, love?”
“What am I? Your fetch dog? I will get it delivered.”
“Oh, well since you don’t want to bring it, I can get it myself. You wouldn’t mind me coming back to your office, right? I mean I already know where it is and your receptionist knows I’m your husband, so it’s pretty easy. Or better yet, how about you and I grab some lunch once I come over?” the bastard was casually sitting in his seat in his office, enjoying the view of the city skyline and knowing damn well how annoyed Isabelle was in that moment, yet he could not help himself but continue the teasing.
“Fine. I will bring it to you. And no lunch and no receptionist lies.” she sighed, “I will just bring it to you and that’s it.” with that, she ended the call and threw the phone back into her bag.
“That son of a Shelby.” she hissed and turned the wheel around, having to make a detour instead of heading straight to her office. She would probably be more than fashionably late that day.
The minute she stepped foot into the building she knew she was in deep shit. Not only will she have to face Thomas again, but she will also risk being seen by someone else she knew too well and that was the last thing she needed. Though she had to admit that the walk-in process was quite easy. Before she could even pronounce her name, she was already let through by the security guards. It seems like Thomas did not wait a moment to announce her to her whole staff. She went immediately up to his floor, without having to hand out her belongings to the receptionist or needing a guest pass. That asshole was quick and witted and knew exactly what he wanted. And unfortunately for her, she was what he wanted.
Her heels clicked over the wooden floor as she stepped out of the elevator and made her way to the double door that was most likely his office, only because it was the only office with a double door. For a moment she just stood by at his door and questioned her decisions, but she had no other option at that time. Fixing her dress, she cleared her throat and stood straight.
Without knocking, she opened the door and walked confidently in. She did not announce herself nor did she greet him as she walked inside. All she did was walk straight to his desk, while feeling a bit intimidated by the size of the office and his choice of furniture inside, yet she could not let it show.
“Here.” she threw the phone onto his desk, not even waiting for him to turn around from looking out of the window to look at her, “bye,” she added and turned around, heading to the door, to leave just as quickly as she walked inside.
Thomas chuckled at her entry and quickly got up, chasing after her and catching up on her before she could reach the door. He wrapped his cold hand around her wrist and pulled her back so swiftly that she lost her balance and slipped forwards, right into his chest.
She steadied herself by placing her hands onto his shoulders and he took that opportunity to wrap his hands around her waist, holding securely onto her waist. The moment Isabelle realised in what situation she was literally pulled into she slapped his chest and pulled away: “Oh my God, stop that. You can’t keep on doing that!”
“Excuse me, love, but you’re the one with the weak balance.” he smirked at her, keeping a small distance between their bodies.
“You have your phone, now fuck off!” she hissed through her teeth and threw a deadly glare at him.
“Is that what you want, love?” he leaned in, cupped her jaw in his palm.
She slapped his hand away as soon as she felt it on her skin: “yes!” she knew very well that once he touched her, she would become weak again and fall into his trap, and unfortunately for her, he apparently knew that as well.
“I must disagree with you, love.” Thomas’ moves were sudden and unexpected, he grabbed onto her hips and pressed her one of the double doors. Her back firmly pressed against the hardwood, a load noise pointing out that she was now trapped between the wood and him. She swallowed hard as she felt him being inches away from her. One of his hands moved down her hip to the hill of her butt, while the other cupped her chin, making her look at him. A smirk was glued on his lips, while she kept a serious expressionless face. She did not show him any weakness. As soon as she would do that, she would lose once again.
“Thomas let me go. I will scream.” the stern look in her eyes would scare most men, but Thomas is not like most men.
“Out of pleasure I presume.” he leaned in, his nose pressed against her jaw, taking in that intoxicating smell of her perfume. His lips soon pressed against her delicate pale skin, exactly against a spot that he learned from last night was her most sensitive spot. Her lips opened just slightly, eyes closing slowly, as she was once again dragged into oblivion with him. Her hands were pressed against his chest, still somehow hoping that by pushing strong enough he would let go, but he would not.
“Thomas, I saw you literally hours ago. You got what you wanted last night. What the fuck else could you want?” Isabelle’s head rested against the door, waiting for Thomas’ reply, but he was busy pressing gentle kisses down her neck, that is, until he could not resist anymore and bit into her neck, creating a little pink mark. Isabelle gasped at it, jumping out of her trance, “okay that’s it.” she grabbed onto the top of his head and pulled at his hair, pulling his face from her neck, “what the fuck do you want Thomas?” she asked him once his face was at the same height as hers, her fingers still holding onto his hair.
“Mmm I like it when you’re rough.” he chuckled at her, both of his hands holding onto her ass.
“Thomas, you got my fucking business. Sadly, we kissed. Unfortunately, we fucked as well. What else could you want?” she snapped at him and studied his face, trying to find reasoning in his eyes. But the usual icy blue eyes did not give out any secrets. He just bored holes into her soul.
“You. I want you, Isabelle,” he spoke up, leaving her off guard. She just stayed there, not moving, yet still holding onto his hair, but not tugging harshly on it anymore.
They just kept staring at it each other for a few moments, until someone busted into the office even harsher than Isabelle did: “Oi Tommy! You done with my phone? I need to call-” he stopped and stared as he realised in what position Thomas was and with who, “…Linda…”
“Hello, Arthur.” Thomas greeted his brother while still being held by his hair by Isabelle.
The woman quickly let go and escaped Thomas’ grip. She stood a few steps away from the brothers and felt her cheeks growing a dark shade of red.
“My my brother, I did not expect you to be into such rough shit reminds me a bit of John.”
Thomas just raised his eyebrows waiting for the point of Arthur’s comparison.
“I would have never guessed brunettes were your type. I always thought you were more of a blonde chicks dude.” he laughed before walking up to Isabelle and taking her hand, shaking it quickly and roughly, making almost half of her body shake with her hand: “hello there, love. I am Arthur, Tommy’s older brother.”
“Isabelle.” she simply replied.
“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”
“The party last week.” Thomas lit himself a cigarette and replied instead of Isabelle.
“Ah yes! I knew I don’t forget such a pretty face. You know I have quite the memory, dad always said I was quite the brain, like a bloody database.” now it was Isabelle’s turn to raise her eyebrows and wait for the point of Arthur’s talking. At some point, she even looked at Thomas with a questioning look on her face, wondering if he knew how to make him shut up.
Coming to her rescue, Thomas stepped in: “Arthur your phone’s on the table.”
Looking at his brother, Arthur grinned widely and ceased his storytelling: “Ah yes, my phone!” he moved swiftly with long steps towards the desk and picked up his phone, before looking back at the not-really-couple that was staring at one another uncomfortably, most of the uncomfortable part was done by Isabelle. Thomas was not one to show many emotions with his facial expressions, besides anger or annoyance.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your business then.” he slid his phone into the back pocket of his pants and headed to the door, but before he left, he looked back at Isabelle and added, “how about you join us for dinner tonight? Ada is making us a little family feast before me and my wife head back home tomorrow. I mean she isn’t really making the food, she just ordered some catering but it’s the closest we will come to home-cooked meals in this family.”
Instead of looking at Arthur, Isabelle’s eyes focused on Thomas: “I think I had enough Shelby dinners.”
“Oh, come on love, I’d love to hear how you capture the attention of this grumpy head over there.” he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder towards his brother who just rolled his eyes and looked aside, focusing on his cigarette, “everyone will be there, Ada, Finn, Michael, Gina…oh I hope Ada will get some American food, don’t you people deep fry butter? Such crazy bastards, you Americans.”
Isabelle’s eyes widened for a moment and ended their focus on Arthur for a moment, her breath stuck in her throat for a second. That by itself was suspicious enough, therefore, she had to quickly cough it out: “Yeah…I don’t think so”
“Oh, come on love, Thomas can pick you up, he knows where Ada’s place is.”
“I’d rather poke my eyeballs out, but thanks.” she threw him irritated smile, yet not fake enough for Arthur to get it.
“Too bad, maybe we will see each other when I come back to the States. Cheers, love!” he waved quickly before vanishing behind the door.
Isabelle’s eyes met Thomas’, somehow hoping he would explain to her what just happened. Yet all he did is shrug, raise his eyebrows and close his eyes in uncertainty. Isabelle opened her mouth, thinking of some reply to all that, but once she realised, she had none, she just nodded her head at Thomas, pressing her lips into a tight line with the corners of her mouths pointing downwards, another evidence of her oblivion. And with that, she left his office. The situation was awkward enough even without Arthur bursting in like that.
Work has not been kind on her. Throughout the day she was faced with various problems that she would have managed with ease if it was not for the whole Shelby thing constantly happening in the back of her mind. As any tech company, it was a necessity to be sufficiently good in using a laptop or computer, which she was, however, that day whatever could go wrong, went wrong. Her lack of concentration mixed with the tapping of her feet against the floor and the chewing of her knuckles and fingers ruined all the work she was working on.
She was not someone that had any boy trouble. Isabelle was undoubtedly a gorgeous and seductive woman that could cause distress to any man standing in her way, yet Thomas Shelby seemed to have hit a nerve in her, no one else hit before him. Men to her were easily played with and used for her own win, but Thomas was smarter than that, he was smarter than anyone.
To that comes the fact that he was the target of her best friend. Or so-called best friend. Gina.
Isabelle’s connection to the Shelby family was a complicated one. One she does not like to look back. Too deep were the wounds. Still, Thomas had no direct involvement in that. However, Isabelle would have preferred if she did not have to spend time with the son of a woman that caused her pain.
Thankfully, she declined Arthur’s offer and therefore could avoid Thomas as long as possible. And despite her needing a few days to return to her previous work ethic and speed, she was as happy as she could be with every day, she could live her life without having Shelbys always around her. Her office hours were back to normal, filled with the usual activities, including meetings, business lunches and lots and lots of programming, just as she liked it. Yet, despite all the things she loved on her work, she was somehow missing Thomas, his fingers over her skin, his lips on hers. Maybe it was just a feeling, a temporary feeling that will pass away…or at least that was what she hoped it was.
But as soon as she stepped inside her office after a too long business lunch with an obese elderly corporation owner, who wished to interact more with her than he wished to interact with her company, she was left speechless. Those types of meetings were sadly from time to time the case with such men. But Isabelle learnt to control those types of situations and politely turn them down, together with their whole business proposal, even if she wished she could just slap them across their face in front of the whole restaurant, but simply ordering the most expensive drinks and meals was revenge enough.
Once she returned from one of those lunches, there was an unusual yet lovely situation happening in her office. Since the door of her office was wide opened and her secretary nowhere to be seen, she just walked inside and there she saw that particular secretary helping two men carrying bouquets and even more bouquets of red roses around her office, looking for any free space to put them.
“What’s going on here?” Isabelle left her coat and bag on the coat rack next to the entrance of her office.
“There’s been a delivery for you Miss Datcu.” her secretary giggled as she poked her head out from behind a massive bundle of roses.
“I see that,” she commented as she walked around her room, admiring all those flowers. Until she finally spotted the one bouquet with a white note sticking on top of it. Her fingers wrapped around the little piece of paper and read it out loud: “Couldn’t get you nor that night out of my mind. For each hour I’ve been thinking about you a red rose.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” she read the note with a disgusted look on her face. She tried so hard not to cringe at something so cheesy, yet she felt a warm sensation happening around her stomach, making it spin around. However, as she turned the card around she noticed another text, “P:S: this was Ada’s idea. I just wanted to send you whiskey.” she scoffed at the part that seemed to be the real Thomas writing and shook her head.
Her secretary left her in peace once the men left the room. “That bastard wanted to get me with booze,” she whispered to herself as she grabbed a random rose in between her fingers, placing it in front of her nose and inhaling it.
To her unknowledge, there was someone else as well in her office. At this point her office was more like an opened field than a private working area: “Calling me a bastard isn’t the politest thing, now is it?” the man hiding inside her chair finally turned around from the view through her windows and looked at the woman standing next to her desk with the rose in her hand. The day just could not get any better, now could it?
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Isabelle breathed out with a sigh.
“Call me Mr Shelby one more time and I will kiss you so hard you will forget your own bloody name.” he hissed at her in a low manner. Her mouth opened up just slightly. Her brain was too focused on holding back the hunger she felt for him, to focus on anything else. Unconsciously her face leaned in towards him, nose faintly grazing over his as a breath stuck in her throat. His hands moved slowly from the sink to her sides. The moment she felt his hands against her waist she felt a tingle up her spine. A pleased smirk glued on his face, he felt her body giving in. Her hands climbed upwards to his chest, pressing against the strong muscles. He inhaled the captivating smell of her perfume as she was just about to press her lips against his.
Suddenly the fairy tale moment ended as an elderly lady stepped inside the bathroom, obviously in need to use it. Isabelle quickly pushed Thomas away, whereas he would have not minded continuing whatever they were doing, despite the glares the grandmother shot at them. Isabelle looked at Thomas once more before heading out of the bathroom. In fact, heading out of the restaurant altogether.
Thomas threw the elderly lady a wink before walking out of the door and leaving the lady in shock. As soon as he realized that Isabelle headed out and not back to their table, Thomas quickly paid more than enough for the meal and followed her outside.
To his surprise she did not wait for him but instead walked towards the street, a foot already onto the trench, her hand raised upwards, hollowing for a taxi. From Thomas’ lips escaped a cuss word as his feet quickened their pace as he realized that she was about to leave. Once he reached, it was almost too late. A taxi already pulled up and she opened the back door.
“Oi love,” he grabbed onto her upper arm and she threw him a frown for a moment, then her eyes looked down at her arm in disbelieve. She pulled her arm out of his grip and pointed the taxi driver to wait a moment, as she stood in between the opened door and the entrance of the car, “where are you going? You didn’t even finish your food.”
“I think I’ve had enough, Mr Shelby.” despite his attempts to stop her from calling him by his surname, she was persistent.
“At least let me drive you home then.” he politely pointed towards his car that was driven to the front entrance of the restaurant by the valet service.
“I think I’ll find my way home easily, thank you very much.” she turned around ready to get in.
“Come on, love.” she threw him one last glance, seeing the honesty they gave out.
“Ah for fuck’s sake…” she whispered to herself before stepping out of the car and slamming the door close. Thomas grinned at her capitulation. She rolled her eyes once she noticed the grin and just walked past him to the car, where she let herself in without waiting for him.
She turned away from him as he stepped inside and started the engine: “834 Fifth Ave.” without turning towards him, she pronounced her address but soon realized that a Brit would probably not know where that was, so she rolled over and groaningly typed it into his GPS before turned back where she was sitting. Thomas could not help but chuckle at her childishness and just shook his head, before driving towards her most likely highly luxurious home.
Once he pulled by her apartment building, she let herself out, without saying a word. He followed her example and got out of his car, leaning against the roof of it, as he watched her stroll towards the door, swinging her hips in a controversial way, without even saying goodbye to him: “I regret it, you know?”
Isabelle stopped just before the doorkeeper had the chance to open the door for her. She looked straight ahead, her back still turned towards him. She knew she would regret asking but something inside of her just did not let her way away from him: “Regret what?” she looked at him from her shoulder.
“Not kissing you when I had the chance,” he uttered louder than he probably should have. Everyone walking by could have heard him.
Snapping her body around she quickly made her way to him, her eyes already opened widely, a fire burning inside of them. Noticing her coming back, Thomas walked onto the other side of his car and leaned his back against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. Isabelle stumbled for a moment before shushing him: “Would you mind keeping it down!? I do not need anyone getting the wrong idea!”
“Oh? And what would that be?” he smiled smugly at the irritated brunette.
“That we were really about to kiss, you asshole.”
“But we were, Miss Datcu. And if I recall probably, I told you I would kiss you so hard you would forget your own name if you referred to me by my surname one more time.” as soon as he said that she took a step back, knowing well that she indeed called him by his surname afterwards.
“What makes you think I’d let you kiss me?” she tilted her head, propping her weight onto one side, one hip more prominent than the other.
Thomas just rolled his eyes, sighing away from her before swiftly pushing himself off the car, just to wrap an arm around her waist and pulling her with him back to the car. She gasped at his unexpected movement, her hands pressed against his shoulders, holding onto him for support as he jawed: “Just shut up already.” Before she was able to attack back, he cupped her cheek with his other hand and pulled her face up towards his. In one hasty movement, he pressed his slightly chapped lips against her soft dark red lips.
She whined against his lips, smacking against his shoulders and stomped with her feet, trying to release herself from him. Unsuccessfully. His strong grip held onto her waist, pulling her against his chest with all he had. Unlike his rough grip, the kiss was rather sensual, slow and desirous. Isabelle’s thoughts ran a hundred miles per hour as she was processing the situation.
Thomas tried to deepen the kiss, yet that appeared to be difficult with a stubborn woman like that in his arms. So, he did the only thing a man can do in that situation: he went for the butt. Sliding his hand south, he grabbed onto her ass and squeezed it just enough for her to gasp once more, which was the perfect opportunity for him to deepen the kiss.
Despite what she made herself believe, she did not despise the man nor the way he kissed her. The warmth he made her feel scared her. Yet her stubbornness slowly surrendered. Isabelle was fighting long enough. The grip on his shoulders loosened once she completely lost herself in him. Her eyes slowly closed while she slowly began to kiss him back. Much to his liking. Her fingers carefully slid up his collar, to the back of his neck, wrapping around him, to lean in, if that was even possible. His fingers dug into her thick dark locks and tilted his head to the other side, allowing their tongues to slide against one another, fighting for dominance.
People walked by them, but no one paid much attention to the couple making out in the late evening. And even if they were, neither one of the two could care less at that moment. They enjoyed what felt like the best kiss they have ever experienced in their life. Their lips melted against each other. Her nails ran over the back of his neck, touching the short hair on his head. Their lips just could not pull away from each other, even if they really needed to catch their breath.
Soon enough they broke apart, but just inches, just enough for them to catch their breaths and look at one another. They did not say a word for a bit. Just breathing, staring at each other’s lips and eyes, switching every now and then, whilst their hands were still wrapped around the other.
Isabelle had the chance to just escape right now, but her senses were fogged and all she could think of was him. Biting into her lower lip she stared at the man. Thomas felt his trousers getting tighter just because of the lip biting. His hand cupped her jaw again, his thumb gently pulling her lip out from between her teeth and stroke over the painted lower lip. His eyes were still focused on her, as she admired his strong features.
Before he could pull her into another kiss, she pulled out of his grip and took his hand, rushing inside the building. Isabelle took the keys out of his hand and threw it at the doorkeeper as he opened the door for them with a clever smile. Thomas was taken by surprise as he was dragged inside.
For once even he did not know how to react to such a plot twist. She became so needy after one kiss that expressed all the frustration she felt since the moment she met him.
Pushing him inside the elevator, she clicked at her floor number and turned her attention back to him. He raised his brows at her as she pressed him against a wall of the elevator and cupped his cheeks, pulling him into another kiss. This time much hungrier as they did not have to wait for her to finally give in. Thomas did not hesitate and kissed her right back. Teeth clashing against each other, hands roaming over their bodies as they rode up to the highest floor in the building.
As the elevator pointed out to them that they have arrived, Isabelle pulled away from the British man’s lips and allowed her thumb to wipe a bit of her red lipstick from the corner of his lips. Thomas’ hands slipped under her skirt and gripped onto her ass. She bit her lip once again, trying to hold back a moan. She slapped his shoulder half warningly as she did not wish to be seen doing the nasty in a semi-public place. Thomas just smirked at her, whilst she could only roll her eyes at his comeback.
Taking his hand once again, Isabelle walked to her apartment door. Once they arrived Isabelle stopped right in front of it and reached for her bag, to find her keys. While she was busy roaming through her bag, Thomas found other ways to occupy his time. His hand gently moved her hair from one shoulder and leaned in, pressing hungry kisses over her delicate skin, while enjoying the scent of her perfume.
Isabelle struggled with pushing the key into the lock because all she wanted was to lean against him and let him kiss her all over her body. But to do that she had to open the door. Thomas smirked against her skin. He kept on kissing her as she let out a small moan. He got a hold on her hand and helped her unlock the door, before allowing them to finally get in.
Then it all quickened up. She threw her purse onto the table next to the door and tried her best to pull herself out of the black thigh-high boots. Bending forward, she tried to unzip them as quickly as possible, whereas Thomas just enjoyed the sneak peek of her underwear as he was standing behind her. Unlike her, he was taking it slowly, he placed his shoes at the door and just chuckled at her struggle.
“You wouldn’t laugh if it was you that was wearing these suckers.” she groaned as she threw a boot onto the floor.
He stepped closer, watching her pull on the other one and enjoying the view of the one naked skin and the length of her leg that seemed endless: “You were the one who decided to wear that skimpy outfit.”
“Excuse you, those are 500-dollar boots.” she replied as soon as she threw the other one away.
“And they look divine on you,” he smirked. Rolling her eyes, she threw her jacket onto the couch.
She stood in front of the taller man and caught a glimpse of the business going on in his trousers. Letting out a small giggle she added: “I need a drink.” she made her way to her kitchen. All the thirst for that man-made her thirsty for alcohol and a cool down.
“After all that you’re going for a drink?” Thomas stated in disbelief before heading out towards her.
She shrugged as she leaned against her counter, pouring herself a whisky. Groaning Thomas placed his face in the crook of her neck and placed a wet passionate kiss on her already exposed skin. He had pulled her flush against him, in which she responded by repeatedly grounding her butt against his groin. Thomas began planting deep kisses against her shoulder, working all the way along her neck. It earned him a few delighted sounds from her. A quiet curse escaped his lips, upon having felt himself harden against his trousers. Isabelle’s grip on the glass just tightened, just like his arm around her waist.
“Thomas-”
He quickly pulled away from her neck and took a deep breath of her perfume. His lips moved to her ear while whispering: “You just said my name for the first time.” he pressed a kiss in the spot just under her ear and she moaned once more, “I like when you moan my name, love.”
“Mmm maybe I should go back to Mr Shelby.” she leaned her head against his shoulder, rolling her bottom against his trousers once more.
Thomas bit onto her earlobe, snapping the drink out of her hand and bringing it to his lips: “Mr Shelby will spank the attitude out of you if you continue like this.”
Turning around to face him she pursed her lips and grabbed her drink back, taking a sip herself: “Not used to a woman not letting herself being dominated?”
“Not used to a woman denying she wants me just as much as I want her.” his lips suddenly captured hers, at the same time he pulled her once more, close to him. Isabelle could feel herself melt into the kiss, sending her mind into a frenzy. Moans and gasps were shared between the two, as the heated kiss intensified, with their tongues clashing aggressively against one another. In the midst of their lip-lock, her fingers made their way to his shoulders, pushing the sides of his suit away from one another, pushing it simulations down his shoulders, until Thomas finally got the memo and pulled the jacket off, throwing it onto one of the kitchen counters. Breaking away from the kiss she made quick work on his crisp white shirt, in the same way as she did with the jacket. Thomas shrugged off the shirt that he was wearing. Isabelle leaned back against the counter and was silently astonished at how well-built he was. Under the suit was a well-toned body and she wanted nothing else but to slide her hands over every inch of his skin.
Thomas noticed the hungry look in her eyes, her legs already pressing against one another. He was once swifter in his actions and pressed his body against hers, pulling her into another passionate kiss. Isabelle’s hands wrapped around his neck, replying to the kiss just as lustful. His hands cupped her ass cheeks, lifting her up and earning a gasp from her. Her legs wrapped themselves around his naked back, as her hands wrapped around his neck. She did not break the kiss but instead deepened it by allowing her tongue to slide over his lips, asking for entrance. However, she knew that by lifting her up he wanted to take this somewhere else.
“Down the hall, the last door on the right,” she whispered between the kisses. He let her lead the kiss as he had to focus on not crashing into furniture on his way to her bedroom.
Once inside, he slammed the door closed by pressing her back against it. That gave him enough flexibility to drag her shirt over her head and revealing the black lace bra covering her breasts. His usual expressionless eyes focused on her breasts until Isabelle grabbed onto his chin and kissed him once more: “Bed. Now.”
Turning her around, he made his way to her bed, where he threw her on. Laying onto the soft cotton sheets she let out a contented sigh. He dark locks were spread around her head against the pillows.
“Strip.” Thomas ordered her as he stood at the end of the bed and stared down at her half-naked body.
Isabelle raised her eyebrow and arched her back. “And what if I refuse?” Instead of stripping she turned around, pressing her chest onto the bed. She arched her ass up in the air, just to tease him even more.
“So spoilt.” Thomas threw out as he kneeled behind her on the bed, grabbing onto her hips and pressing her ass against his crotch, “stop fucking teasing me.” she felt the hardness that was obvious in his pants and let out a moan, before she slowly rolled her ass over his problem.
Thomas let out a throaty groan. He then preceded to undo her bra and flip her around, so she was laying on her back. Quickly he discharged her breasts from the bra and threw it aside. She tried to cover herself, but Thomas was quicker and pinned her hand above her head as he kissed her fiercely. Pulling away from her face, as fast as he took her lips, he moved down to plant a deep kiss on her neck, underneath her chin. Isabelle’s hands moved up his back and on the nape of his neck, before running down his toned shoulders, over the warm skin of his chest. Then she took the opportunity when he was too focused kissing her neck and pushed him down onto his back, hovering over him.
Isabelle flipped her hair over one shoulder and smirked down at him, her finger running from his throat to his chin. Thomas’ hips thrust upwards, in need of physical contact: “fuck you’re so sexy.” he purred as one of his hands wrapped around her throat, gently placing some pressure, just enough for her to feel it. And as soon as she closed her eyes, enjoying in that moment of bliss, he flipped her over once more, finally winning the battle for dominance. He smirked when he heard the gasping cry from her before he continued to plant more kisses down her body.
“Ah-fuck!” she moaned, her hands holding onto Thomas’ as he was still holding her still. Thomas placed a few deep kisses around her mounds. Stopping for a moment he pulled away, just to slide her leader skirt down her legs and throwing her next to her other clothes. He left a trail of kisses down her abdomen before his eyes finally stopped at the area between her legs. The lustfulness in his eyes became even worse when he inspected that intimate area of her closely. Her black, lacy panties which were matching her bra perfectly were already dampened from her arousal.
“So much for not liking me.” he chuckled, his finger sliding over the rim of her panties.
“Liking has nothing to do with this.” she defended herself but that backfired once Thomas touched her over her panties, “is that so? From the cute sounds coming out of your mouth, I’d say otherwise.”
“Fuck you.” she groaned pushing her head back.
“Oh, you will soon enough, love.” Hooking his fingers on the hem of her panties, from the sides, Thomas slowly tugged them away. Sliding them past her knees, he shifted his focus towards her face, her expression filled with great anticipation of what was going to come next, despite her hard tries of covering it. Slipping the undergarment through her feet and out Thomas threw them over his shoulder, his grin of content signifying his desire. He parted her shapely legs outward, exposing her completely to him. Hands-on her thighs as support, Thomas began kissing around her inner thighs, leaving dark bruises on them. Isabelle reacted with airy mewls, tossing her head left and right, while he continued with his teasing touches.
His face moved upwards, finding its way to her entrance, licking away her wetness that gathered on the inner-most areas of her thighs, savouring its sweet flavour. “Tom-,” Isabelle whimpered, her head lifted a bit to look down at him. “God, you’re such a tease-”
His lips stretched to a wide, naughty smile at her plea, Thomas proceeded to sweep the blade of his tongue against her sopping clit. A short, but loud cry was wrested from her, as she arched her back slightly, in response. Turning her head side to side, delighted moans spilt through her gape, while her hands flew over to her the top of his head, where his hair was at its longest.
Thomas grunted quietly, having felt her fingers around his hair, tugging on it. He continued to pleasure her, licking away at her clit, tracing the tip of his tongue all over her most sensitive areas: “Thomas, more!”
“What’s the magic word?” he smirked at her, enjoying how flushed and bothered she looked like.
“Fuck you!” she cursed
“Wrong. Try again.” he stopped all his movement, leaving her in a state of frustration.
“Ah fucking hell, please Thomas, I just fucking need more!” Granting her request proudly, Thomas furthered her pleasure, sneaking his tongue into her opening. It earned him another loud moan from her, and a tightened hold on his hair, as he slid his tongue all over her inner folds. Arching her back, even more, Isabelle kept her grip on his hair, as she threw her head back in bliss.
Now holding her by her outer thighs, Thomas shoved more of his tongue into her inner folds, licking at them more intensely. He then quickly pulled his tongue out of them, before covering over her entrance with his mouth: “Jesus fuck!” Isabelle cried out, again.
She could pressure in her lower abdomen. “Thomas! I’m g-gonna-” her fingers held tightly against his dark hair, her nails scratching at his scalp. The sensation only made him quicken his face, holding more firmly against her thighs. Her head shot back against the pillows as the final sensual moan escaped her swollen lips. She felt her orgasm running over her whole body, lifting her almost into unconsciousness.
Though that did not prevent Thomas from continuing his movements until she rode out her ecstasy and her breathing finally started to come back to normal.
Thomas slowly lightened his grip on her thighs, his tongue still occupied with fixing the mess he caused, as Isabelle ran a hand through her hair, while the other hand did the same to his hair, “fuck Thomas, what was that?”
“An orgasm I’d say.” he licked the corner of his lips before retrieving from between her legs.
“Fuck yes it was.” she grabbed onto his neck and pulled herself up to meet him in a passionate kiss. She was so intrigued by him, pulled under his spell with every touch and kiss she received from him.
His fingers grabbed onto his ass, groping his with his rough hands. His erection was even clearer than before, poking her stomach with every kiss that they shared, to the point where Isabelle could not help but notice. Pulling away from the kiss, she moved to his chin and jaw, kissing down the hot skin of his throat, down to his neck. Meanwhile, her hand slid down his toned chest and stomach, until she finally reached her destination and wrapped her hand around the base of his member. A groan escaped his lips as he felt her hand around him. She smirked against his neck, continuing to ravish it while her hand was busy slowly moving her hand over his cock.
“Bloody tease.” he hissed under his breath, “I will fuck you so hard.”
Isabelle removed her lips from his neck and made eye contact with the man. Her hand was still pumping him at a slow pace as she smirked at him: “What are you waiting for big bad gangster? Have at me.“
As she whispered sinfully, she enticed the demon to take what he wanted from her. Thomas’ hand suddenly wrapped around her throat. He expected her to gasp or have some kind of fear in her expression, but instead, she kept her cool and just smirked at him.
"On your knees.” He commanded the girl in front of him to move. Despite her cool façade Isabelle felt her heart pounding in her chest. Turning around she pressed her fingers against the soft sheets under her and perked her ass towards Thomas, what earned her just another groan from him. Next time he would surely take his time with her, however after all the teasing and having to listen to her moans, Thomas could not hold back any longer or he would have just come right there.
He enjoyed the view of her naked body ready for him, just for another moment, before he wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and coated the tip of his cock with her cum, moving his tip over her opening. Isabelle pushed her head back just slightly; a satisfied moan escaped her gorgeous plump lips. And then, without warning, Thomas buried his dick deep into her convulsing pussy.
Isabelle cried out lewdly as the tip tickled her cervix and stretched her walls deliciously. “Fuck Thomas-” She moaned as he began to move inside of her. She panted hotly as he immediately bucked into her, his savage grunts mixing in with her dirty moans. Now it was Thomas’ turn to grab a handful of her hair and jerked her head backwards as he bruised her squishy cunt. Deep hungry groans left his lips as her tight walls squeezed around his manhood. She maintained her grip on the strands of fur, as she reigned in the fuzzy, ecstatic sensations that whirled around in her head.
“Fuck,” he hissed, pounding away from behind. “You feel so fucking good!” His gaze panning down, Thomas took a full view of her sleek back, curvy sides, and her round bottom. In addition, her long, feathered locks rose and fell in ripples and waves.
“Thomas, harder,” she panted, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Fuck yes!” Skin slapping against skin reverberated throughout the interior when Thomas picked up his pace. Noises of pure ecstasy escaped the two, who could not just get enough of each other. Sheen layers of sweat coated their bodies, as they continued their carnal, lustful act.
Isabelle felt a sudden lack of contact and yelped as Thomas abruptly pulled out of her and flung her onto her back. The brown-haired man fully sheathed himself again, much to her delight, kissing her passionately as he thrust into her roughly. He clenched her breast heartily, as he kept on hitting just the right spot with every thrust. Isabelle’s body became overstimulated; no one had ever given her such attention. She felt like she was rising into a state of oblivion. She felt as she was absent in her mind. The only thing she could perceive was Thomas. His cock twitched wildly in her, their hips meeting evenly with each passing moment. Her climax peaked again as she dug her fingernails into his back, his drive never faltering. Thomas groaned along with Isabelle as she unwound in his hold, milking his cock.
They let out animalistic moans as they both finally found their release. Thomas’ body collapsed on top of her sweaty one, but at that moment none of them could care less. They needed a few moments to catch their breath and regain enough strength to move away from one another.
Once that was achieved Thomas moved away from her, reaching out to grab some kind of a cloth to clean himself up and her as well. But once he returned he found her on her side, preparing to go to bed.
As soon as he saw that he grabbed onto her upper arm and pushed her onto her back, before climbing on top of her: “What’s wrong, feeling tired already?”
“Just thought you had enough already, old man.” she snorted back at him, clearly enjoying that he was up for another round.
“Trust me, love. I am far from being done with you.” and with that, he pulled her into another lustful kiss that led to a very long night that had not much to do with sleeping.
As soon as the man vanished out of her sight and the lift signalled its movement downwards a different voice escaped from the adjoining bathroom: “well, he left quickly. I expected you to go for it right on your table.”
“Oh, fuck off, I had to somehow seem surprised by his visit.” Isabelle rolled her eyes and moved back to the seat, in which she was comfortably sitting prior to the unexpected visit.
“Sure you were. You were playing hard to get.” the other female in the room made her way to the desk and stood in front of it while crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“It has to look like I am not into him. I expected that would turn him off and make him leave me alone. But no, that moron had to come looking for me.”
“You have to admit, it made our work a lot quicker now that we did not have to go looking for him.” the blonde woman chuckled, “though you’d have to calm down with the hard-to-get act. He would have left if you did not throw yourself on him like a floozy. If he would have informed the cops-”
“I had no other choice but to react so unprofessionally. He would have gone to the police. Probably not personally, he’d send some of his minions. But yes, I would end up on page 6 for something that’s not even true.”
“So, let me get this clear: instead of listening to our plan and sticking in the dark for a bit longer, you decided to go to that fucking party, talk to the man we are planning on killing and made him fucking fall for you. Then he tracked you down in, if I may say, no time and now you two will go on a fucking date!?” Isabelle could literally see the vein pop up on her friend’s forehead.
“I’ll just make him dislike me by the end of the date.” Isabelle shrugged.
“You know damn well that Shelbys don’t just give up. If he wants you, he will get you.”
“But I am not just anybody, for fuck’s sake. Trust me, he will hate me by the end of the night.”
The younger woman sighed and just nodded her head slightly: “Do you want me to borrow you something red to wear?”
“Who says I’ll be wearing red?” Isabelle chuckled and turned around in her chair. She stood up from it and stepped right in front of the glass wall, parting her from the open New York air, “I promise you, Gina, Thomas will regret ever walking up to me on that rooftop.” she whispered the last sentence before smirking devilishly.
The following day was rather uneventful for bother Thomas and Isabelle. Both of them were occupied with their usual business and working hours, leaving not much time to think about the upcoming date. Yet, whenever Tommy had two seconds between his meetings, he could not help himself but to allow a small grin to appear in the corners of his lips, usually cut off by his secretary, who announced the next meeting or appointment. It has been quite some time since Thomas willingly admitted that he was somewhat excited to see a woman. Not since he has lost his first wife.
Isabelle on the other hand, was clearly not as amused by the thought of having to go out with her (or rather her friend’s) enemy. While she was occupied by her as usual packed schedule, her mind would still slide in some images of the man that so straightforwardly blackmailed her and showed his interested in her, all in less then five minutes.
If the circumstances were any different, she would have probably taken a liking in him. However, due to the shit she got herself into, a long time ago, there was no way she could let her feelings take over her common sense. Protecting herself was always going to be her priority.
Therefore, and probably for the thrill in messing with people, she decided to make this date one Thomas would never forget.
While she was working on some paperwork, Isabelle’s secretary walked inside: “Miss Datcu, your 6 o’clock says he is running late. Should I reschedule him for some other time?”
Isabelle looked up at her secretary and smiled in a polite manner: “No need, Pam, tell them they do not need to hurry, I’ll see them when they arrive.” Her secretary just nodded her head at the unusual answer and left her office be.
She knew very well that spontaneous change in her schedule would lead to her tardiness and most likely to Thomas’ fury, as he did not enjoy being left hanging. That is why she chose to do it.
Unlike Isabelle, Thomas was more than ready to head out for the date and hour before the scheduled time. He even cancelled his last meeting, unsure about its time of closure. But all of that ended up being pointless, because in the end, Isabelle was most certainly right in her assumption that she would be late for the date. Sadly, not the degree she hoped. The 6 o’clock came in at 7, therefore she was already done by half-past 8 and had no choice but to leave the office and head downstairs to a rather irritated Thomas, who was leaning against his SUV.
However, unlike the usual times when he would have his driver with him, Thomas decided that he would drive by himself that night. Thomas made sure to dress for the occasion. It was certainly no tuxedo, but one of his finer suits would do the date justice enough. In short, he was looking like his usual self.
As Isabelle finally stepped out of the building, she spotted the man in front of his car, leaning against it with his back, his head bent down looking at the ground as he played with the cigarette in between his fingers. She stopped her tracks for a moment, standing twenty feet away from him. Unfortunately, he looked dashing, just standing there waiting for her. Biting the inside of her cheek, she could not help herself but to check him out. Just for a second. It would not hurt anyone, now would it?
She noticed the fancy attire and quickly took a glance at her, which made it clear to everyone that she was the underdressed one in that situation. Her eyes glanced to the side, before letting out a sigh. She did not think he would dress up so fancily for their date. Then again, he is Thomas Shelby after all. Compared to him, she looked like she was ready to go clubbing.
While she was busy avoiding the situation and overthinking all the possibilities for her escape, she did not realize Thomas spotted her from afar.
He clicked his tongue as he looked at the woman standing not far from him and yet refused coming closer and to apologise for making him wait so long. Usually, he would have left the moment she made him wait longer than a minute, but she was different. She caught his interest.
Thomas took long footsteps towards the woman and snapped her out of her thoughts: “You’ve got some explaining to do. You made me wait for over 30 minutes.”
Isabelle turned her head towards the taller man and regained her usual bitchy face expression: “Is it already that late? Oops, I must have lost track of time. You know the deal: meetings, appointments, the usual agenda.”
“And what the fuck are you wearing? Didn’t I tell you to wear red?” he looked down at her. Instead of wearing red, she decided to go for an all-black look. A black Iron Maiden T-shirt, tucked into a tight short black leader skirt, combined with black thigh-high boots and a black leather jacket to complete the look. Even though she looked irresistible and almost tantalising, that outfit was not fitting for the occasion and location of their date.
“What do you mean? I think I look like quite the catch, besides I am wearing red. See?” she pointed at her red lipstick, covering her luscious lips. Her brown eyes looked at him viciously. She was testing him with every word that came out of her mouth.
Thomas just stared at her for a second, with his standard emotionless expression, before clicking his tongue and grabbing onto her wrist before she could put her hand back down next to her body: “Let’s go.”
Isabelle was surprised at how cool he took it. She expected an outburst, but all she got was him holding onto her wrist as he made his way back to his car. Once she was finally on his passenger seat, he could sigh and light another cigarette, placing it between his lips, before stepping into his car and making his way.
Isabelle tried her best not to make any small talk. She wanted to make it obvious to him that she had no interested in him. And since her fashion choice did not help her, she tried to cease any contact with him, until they were on the date location. But staring out of the window and looking at the same old New York she has seen so many times before, bored her. So, she could not resist, but to catch a glance at the man who was driving. She analysed his expression, the fine lines around his eyes and forehead, obviously showing that frowning for a longer period of time is not good for the fight against wrinkles. Yet he looked very handsome. Clean shaved face, hair styled in a somewhat messy manner, shorter on the sides and longer on top of his head, long eyelashes that accentuated his light blue eyes.
“Has no one ever taught you it’s rude to stare?” Thomas broke the silence while keeping his eyes on the road. Even if he tried to look confident while driving by himself, he tried his best to focus on the road and not to cause any accidents.
“I wasn’t staring. I was analysing.” Isabelle leaned back against her seat and crossed her arms over her chest.
“And what have you been analysing, Miss Datcu?”
“How can a man turn into such an asshole.”
“Ouch. Do you speak to all of your dates like that?”
“Only to the ones that I can’t stand.” her reply made him chuckle.
He was quiet for the next few moments before he pulled in front of one of the fanciest restaurants in New York City. “Let’s change that, shall we?” he looked at her for a second. She returned the look and swallowed hard, holding harshly onto her bag. Then she broke the eye contact and opened the door of the car, stepping out and quickly tugging her skirt a bit lower. Usually, she would not give a damn whether someone would see her dressed like that or not. Her style was not a reflexion of her work ethics and competences. However, being seen in such a place dressed like that would make her stand out even more, and that’s the last she needed that night. But instead of encouraging her decision, Thomas just placed a hand onto her lower back, pulled her closer to his side and whispered in her ear: “I don’t mind the outfit, love.”, before he threw the keys to the valet and made his way inside the restaurant with Isabelle by his side, staring at him speechlessly.
“You went all out I see, Mr Shelby,” Isabelle whispered more to herself than to him, as her eyes wandered around the room.
“Still on with that Mr Shelby shit?”
The two of them were seated in one of the best seats in the restaurant, despite being late for their dinner. By the amount of money Thomas paid them to book a place in such short notice, they would not mind saving the seat for a bit longer.
As soon as Isabelle sat down at her place, she crossed her legs and tilted her head, “I don’t refer to strangers by their first name.”
“So, we are strangers?” Thomas leaned back against his chair and stared at the woman sitting across from him.
“Aren’t we? I would even go as far to say we are more than strangers, we are enemies.”
“Enemies? Would enemies go out for dinner?” he wondered as the waiter brought them the menu, yet neither one of them cared enough to look at their waiter. It was more satisfying throwing one another looks with different meanings.
“Looks to me more like a truce, Mr. Shelby.” she added before pulling the waiter right back by his apron, “vodka martini, make it strong.”
The clearly surprised waiter just quickly nodded his head before throwing a glance at Thomas, who was still staring at the woman with curiosity, “Irish whisky.”
Immediately, the waiter vanished towards the bar, undeniably afraid of the couple sitting in the middle of the dining area.
“Truce, huh? You think I’d be considering an agreement with the woman who bashed my family the moment she met me?”
“Was I lying though?” she leaned her elbows against the dining table, on each side of the plates and silverware, “aren’t your brother and your wife dead? Isn’t your family known for being part of the notorious Brummie gang?”
“That might be true. However, for someone that supposedly despises me, you were pretty close to me yesterday.” He leaned closer to her and continued, “I’ve seen the way you looked at me, love. You-”
“You’re delusional. I was just caught off guard. I wouldn’t even want to be seen dead next to you.” she scoffed.
Pursing his lips, he nodded his head and accepted that insult: “But I am surprised that in all the criticism and admonition, you did not bother to slur my descent.” he kept on staring at the woman, who was taken back by that comment.
She quickly leaned back against the chair and replied: “we do not have an influence on our origin.” Isabelle knew right away that he knew more about her heredity than she would have liked it.
“As a gypsy girl yourself it would be uncalled for that you diss your bloodline, now wouldn’t it?” Thomas smirked at the change of her expression.
Her eyes suddenly met his and she could feel the ticking in her eye. She was very close to snapping, but she had to control herself in such an environment. Thankfully the stern eye contact was broken once the waiter came with their drinks.
“Are you ready to order?” the waiter threw them a polite yet somewhat fearful smile.
“I lost my appetite.” Isabelle rolled her eyes and turned her head the other way, while Thomas smirked casually at her before looking at the waiter, “we’ll have the oysters with bacon mignonette for starters. For the main course I’ll have the Ris de veau with mélilot scented red kuri squash purée and the lady will have the grilled swordfish with butternut squash shallot marmalade. We will see later what we’ll have for dessert.” he looked at her and she raised her eyebrow at him, surprised that he dared to order instead of her.
“I said I am not hungry.” she glared at him
“Come on, love. The date has just begun.” he sipped on his drink while keeping his eyes at her.
“I’m here against my will, love.” she threw him a fake smile, “I don’t feel like eating.”
“You’re here because you don’t want me to inform the coppers about your little business. You know the consequences of opposing me, yet you come here dressed like that, make me wait for you for half an hour. You are really something else.”
“I am here because I have to be, no one mentioned anything about me having to enjoy it.”
“By your body’s reaction on my touch, I’d say otherwise.” he chuckled.
She opened her mouth, ready to throw another comeback, but nothing came out of her mouth, so she closed it again.
“Thought so.” he added while she quickly drowned her whole drink, before pointing the waiter that she wanted another one.
“Why the deal?” she changed the topic right away again.
“What do you mean?”
“You could have blackmailed me to the date right away. Having a business contract with my company is of no use for you. You have enough of your own alcohol production, you do not need mine.”
“Competition, love.” he sipped on his drink just before the first course of food came in, to which Isabelle stayed unbothered and just kept on listening to him, “Have you ever heard of Alfie Solomons?”
“The rum Jew?” she raised her cheeks, curled her upper lip and drew the lip corners down and back as a form of confusion and disgust.
“Precisely.”
“And what does he have to do with any of this?”
“Our friendly neighbourhood rum-making Jew has been making contacts around the world with different production companies, assuring his profit from their makings. He gives them a straight entrance into the European market and takes care of the safety of their goods on their way to Europe. From all the shit Alfie did, this one might be his best investment.”
“To which you could not just stand by and do nothing. The poor Thomas Shelby had to go and do the same thing.”
“I knew you were smart, another reason why I found liking in you.” he chuckled before placing a forkful of food inside his mouth.
“You haven’t even seen my business and you want to invest in it, isn’t that rather stupid?”
“Just another reason to see you again, Isabelle.”
She did not expect him to say that. It took her by surprise. A shaky slow smile built in her as the surprise sank in, but she covered it with the rim of her glass. Thomas however, clearly saw what influence he had on her and smiled as well.
“Now it’s my turn to ask questions. If you were so against my family, why did you come to the party?” after a few moments of silence, Tommy changed up the topic.
Isabelle looked at him and blinked a few times before pouting her lips and lowering the corners of her lips downwards while she was thinking of an answer: “Hmm..let’s see. You became the talk of the town since you put the Changrettas out of business, which was quite the stunt you’ve pulled there, if I may add. Everyone wanted to do business with you, rather than fear you as competition since we all know that you do not play fair. And it seems that matches perfectly well with your plan of massive expansion.”
“Everyone fears us, besides you.” Thomas corrected her.
“My sector has hardly anything to do with you and unless you plan on expanding in the tech business, I have nothing to fear.”
“Correct, love, but that still doesn’t explain why you came to the party.”
“I had to find out if all the fuss about you was justified. All the rumours, all the stories about the wild British savages, coming to the land of endless possibilities. Had to see if you are as special as everyone said.” she finished while taking a sip of her second drink.
“And? Are we?” Thomas leaned in.
He was clearly flirting with her, and she clearly could not resist to throw one back at him: “Annoying, tactless, frank, rude…”
“But?”
“Intriguing.” she added in a form of a low whisper.
They looked at each other for a few moments. Meanwhile the waiters took their mostly empty plates and replaced them with the main course. The two of them, however, did not directly notice any of that because they were too focused on the tension that grew between them.
Isabelle cursed herself, knowing damn well she fucked up at that moment. They were staring at each other for too long. So long that she had to think of a way to cease it. Having not much time to think, she did the most irrational thing she could think of at that moment and ‘accidentally’ flipped over her glass and subsequently spilling most of a martini over herself.
“Oh fuck,” she quickly stood. Thomas looked up at her with raised eyebrows, “I’ll fix this in the bathroom. Be right back.” she gave him a fake grin, her eyes narrowing in a supposedly polite way, before she quickly rushed to the bathroom.
Once inside she sighed and leaned against the sink, completely ignoring the alcohol that stained her clothing and is going to most likely leave an alcoholic smell to it. But now she could finally try to end the suggestive thoughts about the man she is supposed to dislike. Unfortunately for her, all she could think of is how his lips would feel against hers.
“Fucking hell woman. Keep your urges to yourself.” she hissed at herself in the mirror before lightly slapping her cheek.
In the next moment someone else stepped inside the bathroom and she quickly pretended like she did not speak to herself right now but instead was trying to fix the mess on her shirt. Her head looked at the mirror to catch a glimpse of who stepped inside. As soon as she realised that it was actually Thomas who got inside and gasped and turned around, pressing her butt against the sink.
“Thom- Mr Shelby what are you doing in the women’s bathroom?” she pressed a little hand towel against the wet spot of her shirt. Meanwhile, Thomas just swiftly paced towards her, pressing his hands on either side of her, resting against the sink edges. His body was so close to her and she looked away, trying her best to seem uninterested and cold. But the soft pink colour on her cheeks exposed her.
“Do you honestly think I do not know what you’re doing here, missy?” Thomas whispered in his usual low voice.
“Drying my clothes?” a sudden the onset of sass and a hint of frustration grew on her as she looked down at the cloth on her shirt.
Thomas cupped her chin between his thumb and index finger, gently pinching it to make her face him. His eyes wandered from her eyes to her lips and back: “Mmm let’s not pretend you don’t feel the tension between us. Since the moment you saw me, you desired to get closer to me, yet you convince yourself that you hate me. How come?”
“You’re delusional. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” she tried to escape from him and walk away from this, but he pulled her back between his arms and trapped her against the sink and his body.
“All I know is that right now I rip your clothes off, right here in this bathroom and make you scream my fucking name.”
“Mr Shelby, this is highly unprofessio-”
“Call me Mr Shelby one more time and I will kiss you so hard you will forget your own bloody name.” he hissed at her in a low manner. Her mouth opened up just slightly. Her brain was too focused on holding back the hunger she felt for him, to focus on anything else. Unconsciously her face leaned in towards him, nose faintly grazing over his as a breath stuck in her throat. His hands moved slowly from the sink to her sides. The moment she felt his hands against her waist she felt a tingle up her spine. A pleased smirk glued on his face, he felt her body giving in. Her hands climbed upwards to his chest, pressing against the strong muscles. He inhaled the captivating smell of her perfume as she was just about to press her lips against his.
Thomas made his way downstairs through the masses and out of the building. Most of the photographers were already gone, yet some were still persistent and waited for some kind of scandalous picture. Therefore, they were still taking pictures of Thomas as he stepped into the back of his car. While he was doing so, Polly could not help herself but to look after her nephew, who seemingly vanished in the middle of the celebration and just so quickly vanished out of the building, as if he was escaping it.
Without a word Thomas gave his driver the address to which he should take him and without a word the driver followed suit and did as shown. Pleased with himself Thomas leaned back and studied the information given to him by Michael. From all of the information, the lack of family history was the most annoying. There were no legal records of Isabelle’s family in the States, therefore making it quite difficult to track them down. But if it was really true and she was all by herself, it would only mean his mother was right and all of the Datcu’s are dead.
His usual frown spread over his face as he tried to build a strategy on how to deal with her. Her potentially dangerous ambition could be of a problem for him, unless he kills her or brings her onto his side. Still deep in thoughts, Thomas did not realize that the driver already pulled up in front of the rather tall building a few blocks away from the Shelby Tower.
“Sir,” the driver waited for a second, before repeating himself once Thomas did not reply, “sir, we arrived.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you.” Tommy replied soon after shaking his head, to wake himself up, “Wait up for me, I won’t be long.” he added before stepping out of the vehicle and bottoming his suit, before looking up at the building apparently owned by the vicious brunette.
Running a hand through the upper part of his brown hair, Thomas made his way inside of the office building. However, unless he had an appointment with the CEO, there was no way he would pass thought the guards.
However, Thomas would not be Thomas unless he had a plan B in his sleeve. Immediately he put a fairly fake, yet charming smile on top of his lips and made his way to the receptionist in the middle of the entrance area, “Hi there. I came to see my wife, I believe she informed you of my arrival.” despite him being used to people commenting on his British accent in the USA, he made sure to intensify it, giving an even bigger impression of a friendly foreigner in New York.
“Oh, h-hello sir.” the receptionist undeniably flustered by his accent and that handsome look on his face stuttered, “I am not sure. Do you mind telling me who your wife is?”
“Isabelle Datcu.” he simply replied with a smile on his face while the receptionist looked through the given appointments. The frown on her face only made him roll his eyes while she was not looking. Quickly he went back to his simulated friendly self, “is there a problem Miss?”
“It appears you do not have a scheduled appointment with Miss Datcu…”
“Mrs Datcu.” Thomas corrected the young woman but then sighed, “ah that woman. I love her but she is sometimes really forgetful. I guess I have to call her and tell her that the receptionist has no info about our date.” Thomas’ face was regretful, yet to someone who knew him very clearly staged.
Going in for his pocket he was about to snatch his phone out of it, he was stopped by the receptionist who feared of the worst – that her boss would fire her for messing up the appointments, despite there never being an appointment for Mister Shelby: “No no, there is no need for that, sir. It is probably my mistake. I apologize. Here is your guest card, please feel free to use the VIP lift right there on the right.” the polite woman handed him his pass before smiling at him.
“Oh, how sweet of you. Thank you. I will tell my wife how nice her receptionist is.” he grinned before making his way to the lift, a slight smirk growing on his face, clearly amused by how easily he could manipulate people.
He had to admit, the building was a fine specimen of architectural art. One of the newer building in the New Yorker skyline, yet not as big as some of the most popular buildings. However, with its fine, classy lines and elegant interior design, it could compete with all of them. As he stepped into the what seemed like pure chrome VIP lift that went straight up to the highest floor, the CEO’s floor, Thomas questioned firstly why he had no lift that led directly to his office and secondly did her business do so well that she could afford to have such a luxurious building. And if that was the case, why would she be having an illegal rum production going on, if she could with all that many easily turn it into a legal hit.
Once the lift dinged and pointed out to him that he reached the top floor, Thomas went back to his usual cold self. Serious and self-centred. As soon as Isabelle saw his body moving out of the lift, she wanted to kick herself in the gut, just to wake up from that nightmare. The expression on her face was just justifying how she felt inside. A pure reflection of the disgust she felt. Yet she was somehow impressed how quickly he was able to hunt her down.
“Good day, Miss Datcu. Lovely to see you here.” Thomas greeted her with a smirk hanging on his lips while he walked closer to her desk, but not before he locked the door of her office. You can never know what could happen…
For a moment there she just stared at him, her lips parted just slightly as her eyes focused on the man closing the door. Her head slightly tilted, until she was finally able to pronounce something: “I have to admit, I did not think you’d be looking for me after what happened last night.” she placed the paperwork she was working on aside and leaned her elbows against her desk, while leaning her chin against the backs of her palms, “to what do I owe the displeasure, Mr Shelby?”
“Your receptionist is quite the doll, Isabelle. She believed that I am your husband who just came here to have a lovely lunch date with my wife.” he allowed himself to sit on the chair on the opposite side of Isabelle.
She closed her eyes for a second, cursing her naïve receptionist. But she would handle her later, right now she had to keep her poker face and do not let him see her weaknesses: “I see you’ve found out my name.” she quickly changed the subject.
“It was harder than I thought. No family records, no history in America, no police records, nothing. As if you suddenly appeared here out of nowhere. Weird, isn’t it?” he leaned back, “might if I smoke in here?” even if he was a ruthless man, he was still polite enough to ask for permission before lighting a cigarette in a stranger’s office.
“Do as you please.” she snapped before moving back to the topic, “I don’t like my ends loose. I prefer them tied up. I do not intend to give you, a complete stranger, any information regarding me or my family. Besides, that is none of your business.”
“But it is, Isabelle. Or should I say wife, now that we are married.”
“Call me wife one more time and I will tear up your liver.” she grunted before stepping up from her seat. The pale pink coat that was hanging over her shoulders fell onto her chair as she snapped her hands against the wooden desk, “Why are you here, Shelby? Didn’t I make my lack of interest clear enough last night?”
“Isabelle, as a new member of the New Yorker high society it is my duty to make sure that the high standards are not damaged by illegal businesses in our lovely city. And it seems you, out of all those bastards, one of those little businesses.”
“Are you seriously accusing me of owning an illegal business? While sitting in my office? In my fucking building?” she raised her voice while making her way around the desk to stand in front of the bastard who was clearly trying to blackmail her.
There she stood, a meter away from his sitting form, wearing a tight white shirt with the matching skirt that reached down to her knees, but left a small gap between the shirt and the skirt, but still leaving much to the imagination. Her pink heels matched her coat perfectly, yet he preferred the darker colours on her. The white seemed like she was just trying to hide her true self. She was a sight for sore eyes. “Oh, I have to apologize. It seems I did not express myself properly. Let me paraphrase what I just said.”
Thomas got up from his seat, cigarette between his fingers as he stepped towards the woman who apparently had the temper of a chihuahua, “I am here to offer you a deal, Miss Datcu.”
“Excuse me?” she looked up at the taller man, with a serious expression on her face.
His cologne hit her nose, combining it with the constant cigarette smell that followed him suit. That warmth his body let out invited her in, pulling her senses into a delirium. Thomas removed his cigarette from his lips, holding it between his fingers that pointed towards her: “I know all about your little booze business happening behind the curtains. But rather than exposing you in front of the whole city and simultaneously ruining your legal business, that’s quite charming, if I say so myself, I am offering you a deal that could bring profit to both of us.”
Knowing that a Shelby is capable of everything he wraps his head around, she had to, even if it was with a heavy heart, ask: “What do you want, Shelby?”
“I want you to work for me.” he stepped closer to her, while she back off until her butt met her desk. His hand fell on the wood right next to her frame, “I mean your illegal side. I don’t care much about software development. I have plenty of other sectors I focus my business on.”
“Yeah. Weapons and drugs.” Isabella hissed.
“Among others.” he chuckled and leaned his face closer to hers. The smell of smoke and cologne kept on fogging her brain. Her eyes looked into his, trying her best not to lose herself in his ocean blue eyes.
“What do you want from me and my business?” she sounded defeated.
“I will help you bring your products onto the European market. As you probably know, and I am sure you do, love,” he cupped her chin and jaw and pulled her face upwards, letting her meet his eyes, “I own most of the ships that transport alcohol from the UK to Europe and the USA, therefore the building here in New York. So, I could easily make your little company global, if I wanted to.” he leaned in a bit closer, their lips probably just an inch from each other, the tips of their noses touching from time to time as Isabelle tried to move away from him, but he kept on pulling her back to him.
“What will you gain out of it? You want all of the profit, right?”
“No, love. I couldn’t give a fuck about money. As you can imagine I am rather jolly with what I have.” he tilted his head before moving his lips to her ear, “I want you to go out with me.”
The close almost intimate proximity between them made her cheeks turn into a darker shade of pink. She hated herself and her easily compellable nature. “Excuse me?” she groaned, trying to push him away from her, but his stronger body just placed itself back to her.
“Go out with me and I won’t inform the law enforcement about your little hobby.”
“And what if I refuse?” she whispered, her nails digging into her desk.
“Think about it, gorgeous. You would earn a lot of money from this.”
“I have plenty of money, as you could have probably guessed.” her overly confident self made an appearance again and Thomas could not help himself but to chuckle. He liked how proud she was, how she would not give in without a fight. It only made him want her more.
“Then I guess the police it is.” he stepped back and reached for his phone. She acted quickly, her eyes turning towards the door on the other side of her office before colliding her body with his and grabbing onto his tie, as he was ready to head out. That quickly pulled his attention quickly back to her, “No!” she simply reacted as her chest pressed against his.
It took them a moment to realize just how close they were to each other. Thomas’ eyes were glued on the woman’s face as she breathed hard, her breath stuck in her throat. She was still holding tightly onto him but avoided eye contact no matter what. Isabelle was clearly embarrassed on her unthoughtful reaction. His hand slowly reached up to her and cupped her cheek ever so gently, allowing him to finally make eye contact again, “go out with me, love. Think about all the money you can earn.”
“Makes it sound like I’m a hooker.” she rolled her eyes and he just chuckled.
“Trust me, love. I would never make such a fuss for a hooker.”
All she could do is hide her inner anxiety.
“I will pick you up tomorrow in front of your building at 8pm. Wear something red.” he whispered against her ear, before he pulled away from her and walked out of the office, just as professionally as he stepped into it, leaving a hot and bothered brunette flustered on her table.
The next morning, after a too short night, filled with booze and cigarettes, Thomas made his way to the Shelby Tower. Today was supposed to be the official opening of the Shelby Tower and the Shelby business in the USA as a stand-alone company. However, instead of spending the night with some good rest or with some interesting company in form of beautiful American girls, Tommy spent his night focused on the potential Datcu girl.
Just like every other morning Thomas prepared himself for his day in office. A crisp white dress shirt combined with a tailored suit with the matching tie and dress shoes. His consistent companion: a cigarette and a drink. The man knew how to dress professionally but rarely wore any casual outwear, unless it was specially requested by some of his family members, usually Ada or Polly.
The man was a heartthrob. The way he walked, the way he stood, the way he held his cigarette, it all screamed power and expertise. His face was always marked by the dull look in his eyes, mixed with a frown or a harsh glare from time to time. Despite his age of 33, he was still quite desirable. To some extent he enjoyed it, but most of the time he did not give a damn about that. If he wanted something, he would get it, if he did not, he would not.
As he made his way towards his car, he called his cousin Michael, to check on the building, but most of all to check on the assignment Thomas gave him. To everyone’s surprise, Thomas did not drive the SUV in New York. He was not a fan of neither their driving skill nor their direction of driving. Therefore, not to embarrass himself, he decided it would be for the best if someone drove him around, at least until he is fully assimilated in the American lifestyle.
While in the back of the black SUV, Thomas dialled Michael and leaned against the backseat, his gaze focused on the road, trying to remember all the details of it. After waiting for what felt like hours Michael finally picked up and answered his cousin in the most hungover tone Thomas has heard since Arthur the morning after his wedding: “Tom I’m sorry I-”
“-got too drunk to find anything out.” Thomas finished the sentence for him while pressing the side of his thumb over the peak of his brow with the hand he held his cigarette. Annoyance spread over his face as he sighed. “Fine then. Get yourself ready boy, we have an opening in two hours. I want you fit and ready.” and with that, he just hung up.
“Plan B it is…” he whispered to himself before turning his face to the driver, “change of plans. Drive me to Ada’s place.” the chauffeur nodded his head and listened unquestionably.
It was 6 in the morning, which was certainly too early for a grungy Ada to be awake, even if she was supposed to be in the office in less than two hours. That combined with the heavy banging on her front door did not leave anything good about her morning. Still, in her nightgown and robe Ada opened her front door just to see her brother: “Thomas? What do you want so early from me? I told you the opening-”
“I want you to tell me something about a guest from the party.” Thomas stepped inside, without bothering to close the door behind him or let Ada to allow him to walk inside.
“Please come inside, Thomas.” Ada sarcastically commented while standing next to the door, “Good morning to you, my dear sister.”
“Stop being cute Ada and come here.” Thomas was already sitting on her couch, lighting himself another cigarette, “You are the one who created that guest list, right?”
“Yep.” she yawned as she sat across of him on the other couch, pressing her thighs against her chest and hugging her legs closed as she rested her chin on top of her knees.
“And you know all the people you invited, right?”
“Yep.” she nodded her sleepy head.
“Who was the brown-haired woman, wearing a dark green gown?”
“Tom, there were many women with brown hair and green dresses, there was Mrs Humpton, Mrs Buren, Miss Tipen-”
“Young women, Ada. Under the age of fucking 80. I don’t give a fuck about the old hags. One-shoulder dark green gown and long wavy brown hair. Think Ada.” Thomas grew notably more irritated the longer he had to wait for information.
“Well, that could have been Isabelle, but I’m not sure if-”
“What’s her last name?”
“Datcu, but what does that-”
“Thank you, Ada, you’ve been a great help. See you in the office in a few hours.” Thomas got up, ruffled Ada’s hair and quickly made his way to the exit, “oh and you should probably do something about that hair. It looks like a bird’s nest.” he added with a small grin hiding in the corners of his mouth.
“Fuck off, Thomas!” Ada snapped, throwing a pillow at him as he was closing the door. She quickly turned around and looked at her phone screen, while running her fingers over the length of her hair. “it’s not that awful…or is it?”
Thomas was somewhat hoping that the mysterious lady was simply seeking attention and therefore lied about her heritage, but apparently, she was the real deal, which apparently means she is a possible threat to the Shelby empire. Although Thomas would have preferred going straight up into research about that mysterious Miss Isabelle Datcu, his opening was the main priority. The lady in green would have to wait until he was done faking smiles for the reporters.
To his surprise, the main ceremony lasted less than expected. From the formal arrival of Tommy and the rest of his family to the collaborative drinking and toasting to the opening of the new headquarters, to all of the staff members joining the Shelby family and the reporters for the official reveal of the building. Obviously, the building was under high-security check, with guards on every possible exit. Despite it being a pretty casual affair, it would have still been stupid of Thomas and the rest to ignore the dangers of possible intruders. It would have not been the first time something of such sorts happened in one of their buildings. It was always better to be safe than sorry.
His brain was focused on an official reveal and on answering all the questions the reporters asked him, regarding the leading of the building, the family members who would keep on running that place and regarding the ones who would return back home. In spite of Thomas’ wish to return to his beloved Birmingham, he had to make sure the place is running smoothly for the first few months, before deciding whom of his family members would run it while he goes back home.
As the storm calmed down and the reporters stopped taking pictures and asking questions, Thomas ceased to associate in any social undertakings, stepping back from the crowd. He made his way to his office without anyone noticing, at least for now. Needing a moment of silence so his brain could go back into its own pace, he sat down in his, now new chair behind his desk and leaned against it, inhaling a long breath of smoke that not only fogged his lungs but also his mind. But that is exactly what he needed. Fogginess…and her.
Suddenly a knock interrupted his meditation. The person stepped inside without waiting for Thomas’ permission to enter, which would usually end up in a scolding or unemployment. However, the person coming in was none other than Michael Gray with information regarding the precious green lady: “I’m sorry Tom, I just now managed to check the details about that surname of yours. The opening was very hectic and-”
“Cut to the chase, Michael.” Thomas breathed out as he leaned his elbows against his desk.
“Well, there is in fact a record of a Datcu in New York. Her name is Isabelle-”
“I know. What else do you know about her besides her name?”
“It seems she runs a company on the Upper East Side.” Michael looked down at the paper in his hand, containing all the information he could collect in such a small amount of time, “The company’s called Infore and bases itself on software development, mostly used by accounting companies and finance headquarters such as banks and shit like that.”
“So, she’s a tech freak. Didn’t expect that…” Tommy whispered into his hands as he listened to his cousin.
“However, that’s not all. My men found out that she has some secret offshore businesses, inter alia a start-up in the alcohol production field. To be more precise: the chick’s been making rum and selling it.”
Thomas looked up at the man and raised his brows: “Is that so? So that little vixen isn’t playing by the rules.”
“Here the address of her legal headquarter. I could not find much information about the illegal part. That girls really knows how to erase her own footprints. No records of any brewery being bought in that name, no distillation business is owned in that name. All I could find out was from one of her former employees who was so kind to tell me about the things he accidentally overheard while working there, obviously for a price. Oh, and don’t worry I paid him well enough for him to keep his mouth shut.” Michael placed the paper on top of Thomas’ desk and stepped back. During Michael’s elaboration, Thomas was already thinking of a way to use that to his advantage and combine business with pleasure.
“Thank you, Michael” Thomas replied without looking at the man, but rather focusing on the address he just received.
“I assume you won’t tell me what you need that information for?”
“Correct.” Thomas agreed as he got up and walked towards the exit of his office, “oh and Michael?” the younger man turned towards his boss with a questioning look on his face, “stay away from my chair.”
a/n:elo, elo. back at it again with a new chapter. I wanted to post once per week because I thought I wouldn’t be able to write it any quicker. But then I started writing it yesterday and I already have like 16 pages soooo…might as well post some…
All he could think of was getting off from that fucking stage and finding that woman.
All he could think of was her.
Thomas stayed put, not moving from the position on the middle of the stage, unlike the rest of his family, who were already half way off the stage, ready to continue their chats with the guests who have moved on from the toast.
“Hey Tommy, let’s go,” Arthur called after Tommy, a bit louder than he probably should have. That was made obvious to him by his wife who slapped him across the upper arm and threw him a look, having him realise that was not the proper way of communicating during such an event.
It still snapped Tommy back into reality and he quickly stepped from the stage, making his way through the crowd and completely ignoring his family or anyone that attempted to talk to him. At that moment he was simply too intrigued by the brown-haired woman that caught his eye.
He tried to calm his nerves together with his thoughts with a drink, but since the waiters just carried around champagne, he had go to the bar, located next to the opening to the balcony and order himself a whisky. Not the most prestigious drink but it was an old-time favourite and he did not plan on letting go of a habit just because he became rich.
While he was leaning against the bar, a drink in his hand he kept an eye out for the woman that caught his interest. However, that turned out to be a waste of time, as he soon realized that she was not even in the venue anymore. It appears it was too busy for her as well and she stepped aside, moving her to stay onto the balcony. Despite it being New York, it was still summer, therefore not cold at all. Still something inside of Tommy made him want to go off and put his jacket on top of her shoulders, probably ruining her whole aesthetic with it, but it would just seem proper. However, he decided against that option and opted for a smoother first impression, by simply joining her onto the balcony.
As soon as he closed the balcony door the world seemed a bit quieter, even if the city that never sleeps actually never sleeps. Ambulances, taxi horns, people yelling… all of them sounding much calmer than the music and chatter coming from inside.
“The one minute.” that low hoarse voice that could captivate hearts by storm broke the silence of the woman and caught her attention. She turned towards the man that now leaned against the railing next to her.
“Excuse me?” she raised her eyebrow, looking at him with a confused expression plastered against her face. But Tommy could not focus on her annoyance at that moment, because he got lost in the sound of her voice. Appealing yet orotund at the same time.
It took him a second to connect his thoughts before he turned towards the skyline again, breaking away from her gaze, just to place a cigarette between his lips light it and. With every second that he postponed his story, she seemed more and more annoyed: “The soldier’s minute. In a battle, that’s all you get. One minute of everything at once. And anything before is nothing. Everything after, nothing. Nothing in comparison to that one minute.”
“Well, soldier, you wasted your minute with silence.” she turned her head a bit to the side, away from him.
“I’d have to disagree.” he corrected her, looking down on her face structure from the corner of his eyes. Turning his gaze back towards him utterly, she finally made eye contact with the foreigner. Her fine cheekbones, the make-up that accentuated all her features, that soft skin and those red lips, so plump and kissable. But the one feature that captivated him for the longest were her eyes, the almond-shaped pools of brown gold, staring at him with a hint of curiosity, however, hidden underneath a whole lot of irritation.
The fine arrangement of colours in various tones of brown and black accentuated her eyes even more, elongating them, turning them into a mysterious pit in which Thomas would not mind diving in. It was in that second that she felt speechless, even if it was just a second, it meant a lot coming from someone who always had a snappy remark and a bitchy attitude.
Those ocean blue eyes seemed to have hit her, just like her almond eyes seemed to have left an impression on him. They just stayed silent, lost in the moment, before Tommy added in a much quieter and lower voice: “it appears we’ve had quite the minute.”
“I’d beg to differ, Mr. Shelby.” she smirked before sipping on her champagne, “to me it seems to be a minute wasted.”
“Since you already know who I am, how about you tell me who you are?” he tilted his head, slowly inching towards her with every sentence that leaves his mouth.
“I know who you are because this is your party. Your name was on the invitation. And since it is your party, you should probably know who your guests are. Me introducing myself would be unnecessary.”
“It is actually my sister’s party. I, myself, am not big on parties and such sorts. I prefer more intimate gatherings.” his fingers unconsciously moved towards her long hair, touching the softness and smoothness of her wavy lock, while gazing down at her face. His face kept on inching towards her, popping her personal space bubble ever so slightly. For a second there he would have sworn that she was also leaning in, wanting him.
“Good, Mr. Shelby. It’s good to want things,” wanting to appear uninterested, the woman rolled her eyes and stepped away. She would never admit it, but as soon as he touched her hair, despite it being not completely on purpose, she has lost it and her heart possibly skipped a beat.
He raised his eyebrows, fascinated by how unimpressed he left her: “did my family ever do something to you Miss…?”
“Nice try, Mr. Shelby. But I-” he cut her off just as she addressed him by his surname again.
“Thomas.”
“As I said, Mr. Shelby, I know a lot about your family and your company and trust me I would not want your family to have anything to do with me.” she glared at the man, still stubbornly denying calling him by his first name.
He was attracted to that woman. Nevertheless, her attitude towards his family made him suspicious. Thomas kept his gaze on her, not showing any emotions, just keeping a straight poker face. Taking his silence as a gesture for her to continue her speech, she moved on: “Just because you’re from the UK doesn’t mean rumours don’t spread across the pond. I’m not sure you realize, but we have internet here as well, Mr. Shelby.”
She placed her champagne on top of the fence and turned her body facing him: “You’re one of the richest families in the UK, yet you seemed to be the most fucked up one.” the grip on his glass just tightened with every word she said, “first your brother dies in what seems like a car accident, or at least that’s what you told the press before paying them to keep their mouths shut.
“But we all know it was from a shooting between your people and some Italian gang, I assume. Not that I cared enough to know which one. Though something tells me that such sufficient men would come from our Big Apple.” she held up one finger, before adding another one and continuing: “then we have your little group of business associates who you presumably call the “Peaky Blinders”, if I’m not incorrect, very creative by the way” the woman even put the name in quotation marks with her fingers, “and not to mention the third and final thing that could be a personal attack just to you, but still counts: how come all your brothers seem to have someone, but only you are all alone? Is it cause your wife died?”
“Poor thing. Heard she was a beauty. Thought I can see how she would fall for someone like you. Was her death also an accident? Or are we just gonna quit lying all together?”
The way he looked at her in that instance was something reserved only for his enemies, but the way she spoke about his family, even if it were only assumptions, made his insides boil. He knew very well he could not make a scene in front of the whole high society of New York, not here and not now.
As she did not get an answer from him, she took that as a win on her side and took off, turning away. However, she did not get far, before Tommy grabbed harshly onto her upper arm and stopped her from taking another step: “Know this, love: do not mess with the Peaky fucking Blinders.” he hissed against her ear, causing her to take a deep breath and keep a steady face. Making a scene would not be positive for either side.
However, she would never let a man embarrass her or order her around in public, so she kept her cool and faced the furious man: “Know this, love,” she mocked his accent, “do not mess with me. I am not scared of you, no matter how rich and powerful you are. This isn’t fucking Birmingham. This is New York and you don’t rule here.” she pulled out of his grip and stepped away, walking towards the door of the venue, but not before stopping and turning back to him one last time: “and for your information, the name’s Datcu.”
“As in-” Tommy’s anger apparently faded for just a second, in a mix of pure shock and surprise.
“Good night, Mr. Shelby.” and with that she vanished inside the crown and made her way home, into the dark of the night.
Thomas on the other hand, was left alone on the balcony. Fucking mad and fucking excited. He did not have such a feeling of want in a long time. He needed to know that woman before he could decide if she was his enemy or not. And knowing her name was Datcu only made him want her more. He blew one last smoke into the sky above him, before Michael came looking for him, wanting him to meet some businessmen.
“Michael, I want you to find something out for me.” Thomas walked a step faster than Michael, not bothering to turn around as the young man turned his attention towards his cousin, “I want you to find out about Datcu relatives in the USA, to be more specific in New York.”
“But-I mean…aren’t they-” Michael stopped his steps for a second, bewildered by the sudden and unexpected request of his older cousin.
“All dead? That’s what I thought as well…guess we’re in for a treat here.” Thomas’ eyes wandered carefully around the room as they made their way towards the people that wished to speak with Thomas. He wondered if she was still in the building or if she was already on the other side of the town.
No matter who he would meet afterwards, no one would catch his interest so much as the brown-haired spitfire.
