Starr Fated Read online

  “Well, I might just about be able to run to that,” I smiled happily in relief, making a mental note to get a contract signed so there would be no going back on these figures once I’d moved in. Jamie seemed a nice, genuine guy, but I preferred it all to be signed and sealed.

  This arrangement seemed as if it was actually going to be possible, I thought to myself. This year, perhaps I was going to be living somewhere half decent for a change. All because I’d left my handbag behind on the train. What a serendipitous piece of luck that had turned out to be.

  Chapter 4

  Liam

  I was not best pleased when I discovered that Kimberley had not yet got out of the bed in my guest room, when I returned from my usual morning workout and swim.

  “Come on. You know I need you out of here by ten at the latest,” I told her, as I pulled back the duvet and delivered a nice firm smack on her naked behind.

  “Don’t worry, Liam, there’s plenty of time. Come here so we can more fun and games like last night,” Kim purred at me, as she rolled over to give me a better view of her voluptuous, naked body.

  She smiled, as she slowly opened her legs and raised her knees, then let one hand wander down between her legs to start stroking herself, while the other teased the nipple of one of her large breasts.

  “No, that’s not our arrangement, as you well know, Kim. Now come on,” I insisted as I stood next to the bed. I found it irritating that she thought she could call the shots and order me around. I knew she was a highly educated and intelligent woman, but when we’d started our arrangement she’d agreed she liked to be dominated and let the man take control.

  Not one to give up easily, Kimberley pouted as she kneeled up, and then reached over to take hold of the waist band of my jeans to pull me towards her.

  “I’m sure you’d enjoy one of my special good morning kisses, wouldn’t you?” she whispered, as she looked up at me through her lashes. The trouble was, in the harsh light of day, all I could see as I looked down at her was the smudged mascara, the dark roots of her bleached blonde hair, and the orange tinge of her fake tan. If I was honest, I felt slightly repulsed by her.

  Last night, the big, busty, curvaceous blonde had seemed the perfect embodiment of the type of woman I always select for a fuck buddy, especially as it had been a while since I’d had a decent lay, having been away on business in New York. I’d been seeing Kimberley for just over a month now, and as usual, at first she’d seemed perfect. She willingly agreed that she was more than happy to have a no strings, no personal involvement, purely sexual arrangement between us, on Friday or Saturday nights, sometimes midweek as well if I felt like it. She said she liked a dominant man, which was perfect for me, as I like control in all matters. I like my own space, so she agreed there would be no sleeping together, we’d have separate bedrooms once we’d finished having whatever type of sex I felt like that week. Then she’d be long gone before my kid brother came over to my place for Sunday lunch, as he usually did whenever I wasn’t out of town on business.

  But of course it hadn’t lasted. Women just can’t help themselves, it seems. They always want to complicate things, get more involved, however clear I make it from the outset that it’s not an option as far as I’m concerned. Even though I was always totally honest about the fact that all I was interested in was lots of great uncomplicated sex, women seemed to look on me as a challenge, a man they could tame and domesticate. I’d known the writing was on the wall for Kimberley when she’d suggested that my apartment needed something to make it more homely – some cushions maybe.

  For fuck’s sake – do I look like the kind of man who’d want cushions dotted around the place?

  My modern Butler’s Wharf riverside penthouse apartment is just how I like it. Uncluttered, no mess, totally organised, just like the rest of my life. The colour scheme is mostly white, with light wood furniture, the same as my office. No glaring colours to annoy or distract me.

  Although still in my early thirties, I have several very successful businesses that have made me a wealthy man. I’d had to grow up very quickly and make some tough decisions when my father suddenly keeled over and died from a massive stroke when I was just nineteen. Either we had to sell the ailing family financial management business which had been left in crisis, or I could drop out of university to take it over and attempt to turn it around. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, but I decided on the latter, preferring to put into practise in real life what I would have been studying at university. I worked extremely hard and managed to turn the business around by diversifying into more profitable sectors, while ruthlessly divesting the company of anything that was losing money, however hard that decision was. There’s no room for sentiment in business.

  Of course I was no fool; I was well aware that my very comfortable lifestyle was the main reason women like Kimberley fell over themselves to be my friend with benefits. If I’d been a road sweeper, or a dustman, I doubt many women would have put up with my increasingly kinky demands. The trouble was that I was finding I got bored so easily; I had to strive harder and harder to find new imaginative ways to keep myself sexually satisfied.

  Women seem to find me physically attractive, although I’m not what anyone would describe as typically handsome, unlike my very good looking younger brother. Some wild teenage years have left me with a couple of scars on my face from assorted fights and motorbike accidents. My dark blond hair is cropped short and left naturally spiky - I don’t have the time or inclination to mess about with it, unlike Jamie who spends hours in the bathroom achieving that casual and supposedly effortless look. He was really rather vain, to be honest, but I assumed he’d grow out of it in time.

  “I said no, Kim. Now leave it, just go and have your shower,” I insisted, as I gripped her hand with its long red talons to remove it before she got any further in her endeavours to undo my jeans. I really wasn’t tempted, even though I had to admit she usually gave great head.

  Kim finally got the hint, and flounced off towards the shower. But she hadn’t totally given up her efforts to prolong her stay, as I discovered when she came and found me in the kitchen afterwards.

  “I don't see what your problem is with your little brother meeting me. I could stay and help prepare lunch for both of you,” she suggested. Now that she was fully groomed and made up again, she looked a lot better, although it had taken her ages, I realised as I checked the time. She was dressed in a very clingy black wrap dress, and no one could deny that she looked like a proper woman with curves in all the right places, just as a woman should. I don't go for these skinny model types who have no tits. That’s not feminine or sexy, in my opinion.

  “No. It would only complicate things. And it’s getting late, he’ll be here soon. You’d better leave now.” Could I make it any clearer? No, it was definitely time to move on from Kimberley, and find myself a new less clingy partner before things got out of hand.

  “Okay, okay, just let me have a cup of coffee first, then I’ll be on my way and out of your hair,” Kim said as she made her way over to the espresso machine.

  I sighed in frustration at the obvious delaying tactic. Good manners held me back from suggesting she simply got herself a coffee from Starbucks on her way home, but I decided that this was the last time she would be staying in my apartment.

  ~*~

  Of course, Jamie arrived just in time to see Kimberley leaving, and of course that led to all sorts of questions I would have preferred to avoid.

  “So that’s your latest lady friend? Why didn't you introduce us?” Jamie smirked, having practically drooled over Kim’s cleavage as she’d made a point of leaning over him to get her handbag.

  My brother knew all about my lifestyle, because I’d made it clear to him over the years that although I very much enjoyed having sex with women, I was not in the least interested in forming any kind of a lasting commitment with any of them. I’d never been into the whole married with 2.4 kids, living out in the suburbs type of thin
g, it wasn’t for me. I was very happy in my own company, I just had my sexual needs to satisfy. A fuck buddy provided the perfect solution.

  “No point. You won’t be meeting her again,” I stated firmly.

  “Oh, I see. Bored with that one are you? How long has it been this time? A month? Six weeks would be an all-time record I think.”

  “None of your business.”

  “And was she okay with all that bondage shit you like? Did she like being spanked?” Jamie asked with a cocky smirk, having discovered my sex toy collection in the spare bedroom when I’d foolishly forgotten to lock the door one time.

  “Like I said. None of your business.”

  “Seriously, I'm interested. I mean, it’s useful research for future reference.”

  I looked over at my younger brother, as he leaned against the kitchen worktop and watched while I prepared our lunch. Chicken Caesar salad was easy enough to throw together. Agnieszka, my housekeeper who came every weekday while I was out at work, always ensured my fridge was well stocked with meals for the weekend when she finished on a Friday.

  Over the years since Jamie had been old enough to fuck, I’d tried my best to guide him to make sure he enjoyed a satisfying but safe sex life. As he was a good looking young guy with an easy going and friendly way about him, it was always obvious he was going to sleep with a fair number of women. I felt it made sense to give him the benefit of my experience wherever I thought it was appropriate, rather than ignore the situation as an embarrassed parent might.

  “Women respect a man who takes control; they like it, even if they say they don't. I only give them what they secretly crave, but I never push things further than they’re willing to let me.”

  “But how do you know how far that is?”

  “Experience, mostly. And of course, picking the right woman in the first place. One who knows exactly what’s she’s letting herself in for with me. One who’s up for a good hard fuck. I’m always totally upfront. I never offer them any of this soppy romance crap. In return, I guarantee great sex for them. They know they’ll leave totally satisfied, because I ensure they experience the best orgasms they’ve ever had. And that’s what keeps them coming back for more. These women just have to understand that there is nothing personal in all this: it’s simply a mutually beneficial sexual arrangement that works equally well for both parties.”

  “But haven’t you ever felt anything more for any woman at all? Haven’t you ever fallen in love?”

  “Love? What is love? Does it even exist? Or is it just a consumerist myth perpetuated in order to sell more flowers and chocolates?” I scoffed.

  I noticed the rather strange, sheepish expression on Jamie’s face, as he stared down at his hands.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, don't tell me you think you’re in love? Who is she? Come on, you might as well spit it out,” I said, exasperated at him acting as if he were thirteen or fourteen rather than in his twenties.

  Jamie looked over at me.

  “I don’t know if I’m in love. All I know is I’ve met this girl, and I can't stop thinking about her,” he confessed.

  “Well, I wouldn’t worry. Just like all the previous girls you’ve managed to charm, I'm sure once you’ve fucked her senseless a few times, you’ll get her out of your system and then you’ll feel a whole lot better,” I laughed, as I clapped him on the back.

  “This is different. She is different. She’s very pretty, and a really lovely person. She’s amazing, actually, but the thing is, she’s not interested in me. Not in that way. She’s friendly, but she’s knocked me back every time I've asked her out, or tried to get anywhere with her. She makes excuses, says she’s working, that she hasn’t got time for that kind of thing.”

  “Oh, then this girl is clever, very clever. She knows most men want what they can't have. The thrill of the chase. That’s all this is. If I were you, I’d back right off. Sounds like she’s far too much trouble. There are plenty more gorgeous, sexy women out there to choose from. Just as long as you remember to always practice safe sex, there’s no harm in playing the field. So why go after a high maintenance difficult bitch who expects you to chase after her? No, if you take my advice you won't bother to see this one anymore,” I told him.

  “Well, that’s kind of difficult,” Jamie murmured, as he squirmed in his seat uncomfortably.

  I stared hard at my little brother. Something was going on, something must have happened that Jamie hadn’t told me about while I’d been away on business. I fucking hate not being kept in the picture, and I fucking hate surprises being sprung on me.

  “Why, what’s going on?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Well, you know how ever since Ollie dropped out of uni, and his room’s been empty and not bringing in any kind of rent, you’ve been nagging me to do something about it?”

  “Yes…?” I had the distinct feeling I wasn’t going to like what I was going to hear next.

  “I’ve got a new tenant in now.”

  “I see. And would you mind filling me in about exactly who this new tenant is?”

  “It’s Seraphina. The girl that I like. And she’s a really good tenant, no trouble at all. But now you see why I can't really avoid seeing her.”

  I could feel my temper rising. Perhaps I’d spoilt my younger brother, because I’d been determined that he shouldn’t miss out on his youth in the way that I’d had to. Since both our parents were dead, I’d stepped up to become the parent figure.

  I made sure Jamie did a decent degree at a decent university, here in London where I could keep a close eye on him. I bought a reasonable house rather than let him live in disgusting student accommodation, and given him a healthy allowance to enable him to have a reasonable standard of living without having to compromise his studies by working. I provided him with a car once he’d finally passed his driving test at the third attempt– not the sporty model he wanted maybe, but still a brand new VW Golf. I’d lectured him extensively about the perils of being a boy racer, even as I’d paid the extortionate insurance cover and all the maintenance costs of his car. I’d also promised that as long as he got at least a decent 2:1 for his degree, I would fund a year off for him to go travelling, before expecting him to settle down in a position in the family business. But it seemed that Jamie was turning out to be a soft touch, sadly lacking in any kind of hardnosed business sense.

  “So what checks did you run on this girl, to make sure she’s solvent, before her name was linked to your address? You could end up with all sorts of debt collection agencies pouncing on you otherwise. Did you get her deposit and three months’ rent in advance as security? Did you take up any references for her? Did it even occur to you that having a female in the house would upset the status quo? Why do you think I insisted on interviewing potential tenants in the first place to make sure they were compatible, even though you were all studying for the same degree?”

  “Jeez, Liam, lighten up a bit will you? I know how you like to micro manage everything, but isn’t the fact that I believe she’s a decent person good enough? The poor girl’s got it really hard , she’s all on her own, no family to support her at all. And some rent money coming in is better than none at all, as has been the case since Ollie left. That room is really hard to let out to guys because it’s such an awkward shape with the low ceiling as well, but she loves it. So I didn't insist on the deposit and rent up front, especially as Sera has to support herself through uni; she’s working all hours God sends to get enough money to live on, as well as studying.”

  “My heart bleeds. The bitch has really done a number on you, hasn’t she? She’s got you thinking with your dick, not your brain. You're not a fucking charity, last time I checked.” Trying to keep my temper in check meant that the tone of my voice was icy cold.

  “It’s not like that at all. Why do you have to be so cynical?” Jamie bleated.

  “Because that’s the way of the world, little brother, as you will find out soon enough. I take it you met her at uni, that
she’s a student at LSE like you?”

  “No, she’s an Art’s student actually, and I met her by chance on the tube, as it happens.”

  “Give me strength.” I looked up to the heavens in exasperation. “She’s not even doing a decent degree. She’s doing an airy fairy, waste of space arts course that will lead precisely nowhere. No doubt she’ll end up working in a supermarket checkout, that’s if she’s lucky enough to get a job at all.”

  “She’s doing Graphic Design actually, which is commercially useful and should lead to a good job. I’ve seen some of her work, and she’s very talented,” Jamie stubbornly insisted.

  “Well, because you’ve already let her move in, it’s a fait accompli, so on your head be it. You can take full responsibility for any shit that develops; it will be your problem to sort out, not mine. Maybe this will help to open your eyes to the reality of things,” I told him.

  Maybe this would prove to be a valuable learning curve for Jamie. Maybe he needed to learn the hard way about falling for sob stories, and dealing with this girl would give him the wakeup call it seemed he was in severe need of.

  “Well, as it happens, I wanted to ask you about a couple of problems, because the thing is, I’d forgotten the radiator in that attic room doesn’t really work, the side window is broken, and the water for the shower never really gets hot. So do you think you could get Andrew to sort these things out, please?”

  Andrew is my facilitator – my go-to man, who always sorts out any maintenance issues I have with any of the properties I own. For a fee, he will make all the arrangements for a reliable and trustworthy tradesman to come and fix whatever the issue is, and then ensure the job is completed satisfactorily.

  “I’ll certainly give you Andrew’s number, and you can call him yourself. You can also pay his fee, as well that of whoever actually comes out to fix the problem.”

  “But that could run into hundreds of pounds! I can't afford that on my allowance, and you’re a fucking millionaire, for Christ's sake!” Jamie protested.