Filthy Foreign Exchange Book 2 Page 5

  “Guess I have to be,” I tell him, looking the studio building over one final time. “London Eye now?”

  There’s no reason to broadcast our next destination, since it was already discussed and I’d even told Kingston earlier, but some part of me wants to be sure…in case he forgot. It’s the same part I need to bury down deeply, and as soon as possible.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Chad tells us, while Bridget says simultaneously, “I need to eat.”

  “Sounds like a plan. You guys go eat, we’ll go to the Eye.” Patton claps in a “That’s a wrap” kind of way before slinging an arm over the shoulders of both Nat and myself. “Ladies, Chad—let’s go.”

  I glance back instinctively, and there they are—two smoldering eyes, the color of gunmetal, honed in on me.

  I give him a tiny smile and wave, hoping he sees that it’s sincere.

  ~~~~~

  Maybe I’m only adventurous in my head, because the London Eye—while incredible and absolutely stunning—looks way less terrifying in photos than it does up close.

  But damn it, I could get hit by a bus tomorrow, so I’m not about to let a little fear dampen this experience for me. Besides, I’m an aerial dancer, for Pete’s sake—I can do heights!

  “Okay, switching hands,” Nat growls while moving to my other side, reclaiming my right hand with her left one. “I’m right-handed. Kinda need to salvage whatever bones you didn’t already break.” She laughs sweetly.

  “You afraid of heights, Echo?” Chad asks.

  “Actually, no, not at all.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” He chuckles as we board our…contraption? Compartment? Glass Box of Death? Any of those terms would be applicable.

  “N-no problem,” I reply, but my voice is shaky and fooling no one.

  And just as I’m about to change my mind and disembark, a calmness blankets me and I turn, not at all surprised at what—or rather, whom—I find behind me.

  Kingston is slipping into capsule number twelve at the last possible second.

  “H-how did you—”

  “I’ve told you, Love,” he says, giving me his signature wink. “I have my ways.”

  He comes to stand right in front of me and lays both hands on my shoulders, which is my cue to release Nat’s hand. He turns me to face outward, bending his head so his mouth is right at my ear and setting out to put me at further ease.

  “Despite the fact that we’ll be rotating at a warp speed of six miles per hour, I’ve got you,” he assures me, husky and warm. “Now relax, and let me show you my world.”

  And he does, pointing out everything in our view. He tells me about each wonder, from Big Ben, to the Tower of London, and even the Queen’s backyard!

  And when we reach the highest point and I’m right up against the glass, I only feel exhilarated and safe…because Kingston is pressed against my back, his deep baritone murmuring in my ear.

  When the ride is over and our feet are back on the ground, we all decide to return to the hotel. I smile as Nat walks ahead, between Patton and Chad.

  I hang back, noticing Kingston is waiting for the group he’s in charge of to disembark from their glass chamber that was about five after ours. His hand brushes mine—something it’s done more than once in the last thirty minutes.

  I’d be kidding myself if I denied that every single, simple touch reignites the spark between us, but I refuse to give up my resolve to resist.

  “That was incredible.” Jackie is talking more to herself, but loud enough for all to hear the moment their door is opened.

  “Hotel,” Kingston tells them, then places his hand on the small of my back to lead me in that direction.

  I allow it, not speaking or removing his hand, but thankful the hotel is close by. I’m even more thankful when he moves his hand away, still walking beside me but no longer touching me, occasionally glancing my way as if something is on his mind.

  “Have dinner with me tonight,” he states more than asks the moment we step inside the hotel lobby.

  “Kingston.” I sigh. “I can’t. I already have plans.”

  It’s not a complete lie. I do have plans…to avoid any intimate setting where I’ll once again be placed under his spell.

  He opens his mouth, but I cut off his chance to reply.

  “But I had a wonderful time today. Thank you.”

  There’s a long pause, and his gaze clouds before he speaks.

  “The pleasure was all mine, and there’s plenty more where that came from. There’s so much I want to show you—in fact, after your plans this evening, say you’ll join my group at Piccadilly Circus.”

  I laugh. “So you’re actually going to stick with your group?”

  “I was with them at Abbey Road, was I not?”

  My eyes roll back as I smile.

  “You were. Okay, tell me about this circus.” I toss him a clever smirk, the conversation we once had on the topic replaying in my mind and tugging at my heartstrings.

  “Much like the last time we spoke of one,” he says with a wink, having read my thoughts, “There are no tigers or bearded women, but it’s quite the experience. You’ll love it. Say yes.”

  I bite my lip, but quickly release it. “Okay. Yes.”

  “Brilliant.” His gray eyes dance with pleased victory. “But promise me you won’t venture out alone. I’ll escort you. Meet me right here at nine tonight. Agreed?”

  I have no desire to navigate my way through the streets of an unknown city after dark, so I concede easily.

  “Agreed.”

  Chapter 6

  Do as I say, not as I do is the motto for tonight’s preparations. Nat and I order room service, and I take bites in between tasks to help doll up my roommate to the nines.

  I help curl her hair—something I learned from my mom—and give “smoky eyes” my best effort, then provide my renowned rating on each outfit she tries on. How the hell had she managed to bring so many choices? I’d literally brought one backpack, on account of that fact that this was supposed to be a backpacking trip.

  So while I may be helping gussy Nat up, I’ll be spending the evening in a fitted tee, jean shorts, and sneakers.

  Once she’s finally agreed she’s ready, we head down to the hotel lobby at nine sharp. And I instantly feel like the spectacle, my own skin no longer fitting. Everyone, even the guys, are dressed in their best.

  And Kingston? Well, it’s all I can do not to gawk openly at his debonair gorgeousness. His dark hair is perfectly imperfect. He’s dressed in tight, dark jeans, and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks like he’s on his way to a photoshoot—and every other girl on this trip is fixed up glamorously enough to be extras in the shots.

  And here I am, country-bumpkin Echo, dressed for chores or a camping trip. Fabulous.

  I begin to take slow, hopefully unnoticeable steps backward up the stairs, eager to run back to my room. But I see Kingston shake his head slowly, crooking his finger at me.

  I return a head shake of my own, embarrassment spiraling out of control through my nervous system.

  But before I can bolt, he finds his way right in front of me with just a few brisk strides.

  “You looking smashing, Love.” He takes my hand and gives it a light, comforting squeeze. “Your beauty is effortless, and every girl here envies it.”

  “I look like a homeless person compared to them!” I yank my hand free, feeling ashamed. “I brought one bag. How the hell did they pack dresses and heels?”

  “Echo, I can go change,” Nat offers kindly, her forehead creased in empathy.

  “The hell you will. You look amazing.” I almost add, “And we worked too hard,” but the way Patton and Chad are both eyeing her up and down makes me think it best for them to assume she pulled it together effortlessly. “I’ll just sit this one out. No big deal.”

  “Natalie, would you excuse us a moment?” Kingston asks her.

  Nat complies immediately, shooting m
e an ornery smile over Kingston’s shoulder as he takes my elbow and leads me around the corner.

  “Echo, you outshine everyone here, and I swear to you not everyone you see tonight will be dressed so extravagantly. And if I may be honest?”

  I nod.

  “I rather adore the fact that you don’t try to draw attention to yourself. Fewer men whose arses I’ll have to kick.” He winks and lifts my hand to kiss the underside of my wrist. “You’re stunning. Now let’s go, shall we?”

  “Thank you.” I smile, and before too serious of a moment builds between us, I punch him lightly in the forearm and add, “Helluva pep talk, buddy.”

  I walk away, feeling like a complete moron but needing to put a whole lot of distance between me and the guy who says all the right things at the exact right moment. Damn him.

  We’re not five steps down the sidewalk—with Nat giving me pleading looks for information on what went down with Kingston during the whopping fifteen seconds we shared—when Jackie’s complaining. Shocking.

  “I know we’re not headed for the Underground! I have on five-inch heels!”

  Kingston turns to her slowly, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Of course. I’ll call for a car.”

  I may not be able to out-dress her, but I can certainly out-adult her.

  “Well, my sneakers that I brought for a backpacking program will do just fine on the Underground. Enjoy your car!”

  Nat walks past them to join me. Kingston is already on his cell, watching us, a subtle shake of his head reminding me of my promise. He wants me to stay with him—which, in turn, means safety.

  So I slow down and wait, giving Nat time to quietly ask, “Did you slap him, or just tell him off?”

  “What?” I gasp. “No! Neither. Why would you think that?”

  She shrugs a shoulder. “He looked a little frustrated when you guys came back to the group. Not the appearance of a man that got a little nookie.”

  I roll my eyes and can’t help but laugh. “There was no violence, physical or verbal. And definitely no nookie, whatever the hell that is!”

  “Whatever the hell what is?” asks Patton, who’s suddenly beside us.

  I close my eyes and inhale the night air, searching for something to respond with.

  “Nat here was just telling me about some new kissing techniques she knows.”

  It’s a half-truth; she told me about some earlier in the room, and that was the first thing that came to mind. Plus, if that doesn’t get him thinking about her, he’s crazy. She knows more about making out, thanks to hours of watching YouTube, than I do about Aerialism.

  “Is that so?” Patton asks, intrigue written in his grin—one that isn’t as gentlemanly as I’d like to see.

  “A girl needs her secrets, though,” I say, pulling Nat back toward the group.

  Just then, a black town car pulls up to the curb. And like a responsible tour guide, Kingston makes sure Jackie, Bridget, and a few others whose names I still don’t know are safe in the car. Patton jogs over and climbs in as well, but Chad is still hanging back.

  Kingston then heads in our direction with a local friend of his, whose name I learned was Burke only minutes ago.

  We all stick together, crossing the street toward the giant red circle sign. I can’t say I’m anxious to once again delve into the puzzle of the Underground, but I’m a fan of this smaller group. Yet my mood is skewed, since Patton went with the others and I notice a melancholy shift in Nat’s.

  The railway system is much different at night—and by “different,” I mean it scares the hell out of me more than I thought possible. Several of the people on board appear to be drunk and lacking personal boundaries, so I smash myself as close as I can get against Kingston. I don’t care if it sends a mixed signal, as long as it sends a “Protect me” one, too.

  The speedy commute jostles people around like rag dolls, but not me. Kingston’s strong and sturdy on his feet and wraps one large arm around my waist, holding me tight.

  I lift my head up and back while he leans his down. “Thank you.”

  I smile. In response, his eyes and mouth do crazy, wicked things that cause several parts of me to begin tingling.

  “My pleasure, Love.”

  And it is—I can feel it, hard against my backside, which is pressed into his crotch. Travel hazard.

  Oh well. Not overthinking anything else tonight.

  I glance over at Nat, worried for her safety. I quickly see that not only need I not be concerned, but that her mood has definitely lightened, because she’s got a British gentleman taking care of her as well: Burke.

  She catches my gaze, waggling her eyebrows before mouthing, Huge fan of the Underground.

  I laugh out loud, pleased her night has seemingly improved.

  “What’s so funny?” Kingston murmurs in my ear.

  I wave my hand. “Nothing.”

  “Hmm.” His chest vibrates with that curious hum. “This is us. Don’t let go of my hand.”

  Not that I would, but he ensures it with a firm grip as we depart at our stop. And the minute I take in the fresh air, I feel it, my flesh pricking with its intensity.

  Electricity. This little piece of London comes to life at night.

  “This is it, Piccadilly Circus. What do you think?” Kingston asks.

  “It’s unbelievable,” I exhale. And it is, a huge circle of vibrantly colored, bustling nightlife.

  “Nat!” I yell, not taking my eyes off all the fascinating lights.

  “Right here.” She walks up beside me. “Pretty damn cool, huh?”

  “Um, yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”

  Kingston laughs at my simple response.

  It’s like you can’t look, or comprehend, fast enough. There’s so much to see; the different types of people, outfits, and music are each as bewitching as the last.

  After about an hour of nonstop stimuli, Chad stops in front of a club called The Box.

  “No,” Kingston snaps, the hold he’s had on my hand all night tightening.

  “The others are already in there,” Chad says. “Patton texted me.”

  “Come on, mate.” Burke slaps Kingston on the shoulder. “If they managed to get in, it’s our duty to go see to them, I’d say.”

  ‘Managed to get in’? ‘See to them’? The ominous comments and Kingston’s almost-painful clutch on my hand are starting to worry me.

  “This isn’t the place for Echo,” Kingston growls. “If you insist on going in, we’ll find our own entertainment.”

  “I’m not leaving Natalie,” I insert immediately. Especially now that warning bells are going off in surround sound.

  “Ah, thanks girl.” Nat grins at me. “Then you’re going in, ’cause only death could keep me outta The Box now!”

  Kingston’s sigh is defeated and loud. “Echo, a moment?”

  He pulls me to the side, then bends his knees to look me dead in the eyes.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? The Box isn’t just a club. You’re going to see things in here that will shock you, and very well may offend you. I’d much prefer if we didn’t go in.”

  I gulp. “Am I in danger?”

  “Never, when you’re with me.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” I rest my hands on my hips, determined to see what all the fuss is about. “Is it, like, a strip club?”

  “Something like that.” He rubs his hand over his face.

  “Let’s go!” Nat yells.

  “Kingston, I’ll be fine.”

  I have a feeling I’ll be anything but fine, but I smile reassuringly, feeling my excitement and nerves winding together.

  The moment we step inside, it’s very clear The Box is...different. I can’t decide if “cabaret,” “burlesque,” or “pit of nudity and sin” is the right description. Maybe all three?

  Case in point—the first thing I notice is a naked woman hanging from ropes above me. I appreciate her artistry, of course—just not so much the clear shot of her bare
vagina.

  Not that I’m judging her, or anyone there—to each their own. It’s just not my thing.

  But everyone else is having a blast, so I plaster on a smile to camouflage my prudishness and try to keep my eyes from bulging out of my head. To help with that mission, I decide to stop looking around so much and focus solely on Nat.

  She’s dancing—if that’s what they call it here—her tail off with Chad and Burke while keeping her gaze fixed on Patton, who’s dancing with Jackie and Bridget.

  “Do you want to leave?” Kingston asks me for the umpteenth time, having not left my side, as promised.

  I shake my head adamantly, determined to relax. I hate the way he’s looking at me, sympathy and worry in his eyes as though he’s “tainted” the innocent little girl he thinks I am.

  But the truth is, I’ll be fine. I’m eighteen now, and still on the first leg of my journey toward the new, free Echo. So I jut my chin out, giving him a look of steely determination.

  “No, I want to stay,” I say, arching a brow. “And a real gentleman would’ve offered to buy me a drink by now.”

  “On it!” Chad offers more than enthusiastically, choosing that exact moment to return to our table. “You look like a Cosmo girl. Coming right up!”

  Chapter 7

  Our waitress’ name is Clover, which I’m almost certain used to be “Grover”...when she was a man. Still, she’s gorgeous—and after I told her so sincerely, as well as loudly enough for all to hear, my Cosmos starting coming free.

  Which is why I’m currently halfway through number three.

  “Last one, Echo,” Kingston snarls, glaring at me.

  “Dude, lay off,” Chad gibes. “You’re not her dad.”

  “No, and she’s bloody lucky I’m not,” Kingston snaps. “Her father would’ve stopped her arse at the door. Isn’t that right, Echo?”

  I bite my lip, avoiding eye contact.

  “Good thing I don’t see him anywhere around, then,” Chad actually has the balls to say with a laugh. “Come on, gorgeous, we’re dancing!”

  Chad has me pulled from the table and into the crowd before I can protest. Not that I really want to.

  “Hey!” Nat yells as we dance up beside her and Burke; their bodies nearly connected. “’Bout time you gave that chair a rest! Show me whatcha got!”