Vantage Point (The Point Series Book 2)

  Dedicated To Everyone Who Ever Had a Dream

  Acknowledgements

  To the amazing Amy Johnson who has not only been a phenomenal assistant but she has also been my support system. Taking care of all my social media as well as promotional material, I would be lost without her.

  To my team who have kicked my arse with deadlines, made me push my writing to another level, my BETA readers who were relentless with their thoughts

  To Keidi who has been my support from day one and the person who has encouraged me to follow this dream.

  To my family for putting up with me and my moods whilst trying to bring this baby to life.

  My sister Rachael who is still my harshest critic but is my biggest fan. Thank you for being honest, critical and supportive.

  To my fellow Authors that I have met since I started on this journey – everyone from Manchester author event gig who have welcomed me into the family – especially Scarlett and Toya.

  To my friends who went out and brought the book, read the book and have pre ordered this book. Rachael, Rachel, Jacky, Faye and Vicky you have been mini cheerleaders publicly and privately which means the world to me.

  My Parents and My Uncle who tell everyone to buy it, glad I have made you proud.

  Andrea who is responsible for a few of the lines in this book. Leilani definitely gets her laugh from you!

  And finally, to everyone who took the time to buy and read my first baby – Turning Point forever grateful that you took that chance on me.

  Enjoy Vantage Point I love these two and hope you do too. XOXO

  Leilani

  It feels so good to finally be free.

  No more lies

  No more deceit

  No more keeping things from my best friend

  Rayne and I have been best friends for 17 years. We tell each other everything. Having to keep her in the dark was horrible, but now, everything is out in the open and why the hell is my bed dipping next to me. No. Nooooo. Damn It!

  “I thought we agreed this wouldn’t happen again”

  My voice is indignant. I am disgusted with him, why would he go back on his word, why would he come back into my bed. WHY?

  He leans over me, and as quiet as a mouse says

  “I didn’t agree to shit! You said it wouldn’t happen again, but if I recall correctly, you had just pulled the sweetest nut out of me, so I put it down to being drunk on my DNA and ignored you.”

  “You cocky motherfu…”

  He puts his hand over my mouth to prevent me finishing my sentence. My blood is boiling, why am I allowing him to control me. I am usually in control. I usually hold all the cards.

  I bite the end of his finger. Take that!

  “It will take more than that to keep me quiet. Dick!”

  “Happy to stuff it with mine, all you have to do is ask Leilani, it’s yours whenever you want it”

  As if to prove his point, he rubs himself through his trousers, I have to think about how to swallow my mouth is so dry.

  “Haven’t you got somewhere else to be?”

  He pushes himself to upright, grabbing his keys from the bedside table.

  I can’t help but admire the view. On paper he is the complete opposite to what I call my usual type. He drives a stupidly expensive sports car, he is a complete know it all in his field, his dark blonde hair is always ‘immaculately messy’, his clothes are tailored – even his ‘casual’ trousers, he wears loafers and brogues – sometimes without socks, he always has a tan – I thought it was out of a bottle it’s so even and his teeth are perfect and white.

  Not my type, well until you peel back the layers. His hair is actually one of my favourite things about him. Yes, it’s always styled to within an inch of its life, but I love running it through my hands, messing it up – making it fall over onto his forehead. His clothes hide his sinful body – he’s ripped.

  His shoulders are broad, thick and strong. His rock hard abs make me weep, literally.

  His thighs are like marble they are ridiculously smooth and firm. Being honest. Even if he had the worlds smallest penis, I would still probably be interested, the fact that he’s hung like a donkey is a bonus – a massive bonus. Emphasis on massive. His smile, the smile that I believe is all for me, whether it’s at something I have said or something that I am doing, is everything.

  All those things make me keep coming back for more. Damnit.

  “Unfortunately, yes I do. As much as I want to stay here and ravish you, I have to meet my father. You should come?”

  I don’t know if he is being serious or not, I suddenly get butterflies and for nothing short of a nano second, I think about it

  “As tempting as that sounds, I think I will pass” I add some sass, by inspecting my nails.

  He laughs and gives me a firm kiss on my mouth

  “You’re too much Leilani – I will call you in the morning to go through the press releases. We’re agreed to having Rayne back on board? “

  My heart sinks at hearing her name. Guilt. I meekly nod to show my agreement and he kisses me again.

  I breathe him in as he stands up – GAHHH that damn blasted scent of his is unreal. He smells like sex. Well not literally like sex because that’s not the best. Well it is the best when you’ve just had sex, which clearly, we have but – for god sake, I am rambling like Rayne now.

  “Good. I’ll let you break the news to her” he winks and walks out of my bedroom, now I know I should be a good host and see him out, but he knows the way.

  Fuck My Life. I bash my head against my pillow. This is not good. One-night stand Leilani! Not twenty-one-night stand!

  OK, so let me explain.

  My name is Leilani Barros. By day I am one of the leading sports agents in the UK, my friend Rayne is a PR agent and we have worked and played together for the last 17 years. A few weeks ago, we found out that we had a conflict with a mutual client, and I had to drop her from the client case. Our client, a leading footballer for both his club and country was being blackmailed. At first, the only conflict was that her step father, the notorious lawyer, Trent Fitzgerald seemed to be tied up in the case, we thought initially that he was working against us, but it turns out he was protecting Rayne. A video had surfaced of our client Malachi Harris indulging in a sex act with a known reality star. She claimed he impregnated her and was demanding money. Another footballer also involved is the nation’s sweetheart. The England Captain, Johan Terrence. Yes, I know! Anyway, long story short. Rayne’s biological father (although I still debate if that’s even true) is also Malachi’s dad. Trent knew and was trying to keep Rayne and Malachi protected. He represented Johan only because he needed to try and keep it all a secret. It didn’t work out at all well. This afternoon it’s all over the news. I have been working with Guy Pearce Morgan, a partner at Trent’s practice trying to get to the bottom of this whole mess. Why am I telling you this? Good question. Might have something to do with the fact that for the last 3 weeks, I have not only been working the case with Guy, but I have also been working his shaft. Every, divine inch of his glorious shaft. I know, right? Shaft? Yes! Shaft! It is a long, thick, very attractive shaft.

  It has been keeping me entertained, energised and satisfied every night for the last 3 weeks and I can’t get enough of it, worse still, I can’t get enough of him. I desperately want to tell Rayne, I tell her everything. But I am scared. She knows Guy, of course she does, but she also knows me. She will know that I don’t do repeats. Ever. I have never had a boyfriend, not really. I change my mind faster than I change my underwear (twice a day sometimes thrice) Nobody has ever kept me entertained long enough to go back again and again. She
will ask me questions that I don’t want to answer. What is it about Guy Pearce- Morgan? I don’t know for sure, but I do know I am completely dickmatised

  Guy

  I hand my car over to the valet and make my way inside to meet my father. He is such a chore. William Pearce Morgan ex barrister and ex-husband extraordinaire is a force to be reckoned with. Life for him is about keeping his wife in designer clothes and jewellery, keeping her relevant, thus allowing him to get his dick wet whenever he wants. My mother died when my sister Kelsey was 2 years old, desperate to not have to raise her alone, he married the first woman who got on her knees, not the other way around. Esther Knightley was the lucky winner. She is now 45 so only 15 years older than me, she was 23 when dad married her. My older brother Gareth used to have a crush on her as a teenager spent many a night wanking over her. Poor sod. Esther’s parents were instrumental in her replacing my mother in my fathers’ bed. Gives you an idea of the social circles we turn in. Old Willie has been desperately trying to set me up with every socialite daughter of everyone he knows. Dinners at our house are like something from Made in Chelsea. Everyone has screwed everyone. It’s like elite incest.

  I see Willie and Esther sitting to the rear on the left-hand side. Close enough to the action to be noticed, far away enough to not be disturbed. I make my way through the throng of tables. Saxon’s is an old school restaurant/ bar in Fulham. It’s not quite members only but the same faces are here every week. White starched cotton cover the tables, opulent fabrics adored the walls in lieu of paintings, heavy leather high-backed chairs are arranged for each diner. Low instrumental music is delicately wafting through the dining area. The maître d is just in front of me, as if I need a guide. I pass two or three families we know. The fathers nod, the sons nod, the mothers smile, the daughters blush. I’ve fucked at least three of them that I have passed. None of them memorable. Never understood these girls who expect you to do all the work. I’d go to the gym and wank in shower if I wanted to do all the hard graft. I guess that’s why I’m addicted to Leilani. She’s no nonsense in the office, well respected in her industry, dominant in most parts of her life, tall, sexy, funny, flirty and most of all, she is phenomenal in bed. And we have been in bed and out of bed. Every day for the last few weeks.

  My heart kicks up a step when I think about her. I would be happy to have sex with her every damn day for the foreseeable future. She’s got tricks I have never seen before, she does this thing with her throat, gets me every time. I need to stop replaying her in my mind otherwise I will be back there before you can say check please

  “Ahh Guy you made it”

  Esther is up on her feet, greeting me with a kiss. I turn to Willie “Dad” and shake his hand.

  “Good to see you son, have you eaten?”

  I nearly say only Leilani but refrain. Not that I am ashamed. I walked in on Willie hanging out the back of Esther one Sunday morning. They had only been married a few months, and I hadn’t worked out yet at the tender age of 8 that you should knock on the door before entering. Willie sat Gareth and I down shortly after to discuss what happens between a man and his wife – I repeat. I was 8.

  “No, I haven’t had dinner yet” see nice, safe answer.

  Willie gives Esther a sly look. One that I know so well. Can you say set up?

  “Wonderful. Thomas and Madeline are going to be joining us, they should be here any minute”

  I glance around the table and see 3 empty chairs. Madeline and Thomas O’Sullivan, high on the food chain, they breed horses, their prize mare is their daughter Millicent. Oh no.

  “Please tell me Millicent is not going to be with them? I wish you two would stop trying to force us together, it was embarrassing at Trent’s party, I am not interested”

  Willie pops his elbows on the table. “The only embarrassment at that party was you throwing yourself over than Letitia woman”

  I grind my teeth “I think you mean Leilani, and I was not throwing myself at her, we were at a party it’s called dancing”

  Esther grunts and Willie gives chuckles

  “Whatever her name is, she looks like the only dancing she does should be on a table”

  The noise of my chair grinding against the hardwood floor as I push it back, draws the attention of the table next to us. I ‘m standing before I know it. Anger is boiling inside me, how dare they!

  “For your information Leilani Barros has more class in her little finger than that little slut Millicent. Did I tell you Millicent offered to blow me in your utility at the last dinner we had?”

  Now, this is where you’ll get an idea into the mind of Willie. He actually replies with

  “She’d do anything to carry your name Guy, you should have at least tried her out for form”

  I go to leave, I won’t sit here and be subjected to this. I am a pawn in my father’s game, he has something to gain from this and I won’t be a part of it.

  My exit is thwarted by an eager Millicent who is trotting towards the seat next to me. She’s closely followed by her parents. I was not joking when I said she was horsey. Her face and nose are the longer than should be natural. Her straw like blonde hair is pulled into a tight plait down her back. She’s in a pair of beige trousers that look too short for her legs, even though they are stumpy as hell, with a cream lace top that her arms are pleading to be released from.

  “So sorry we are late, Daddy was talking to some people out front, apparently they won big at Ascot when they backed Millie’s Mint”

  Her voice grates on me, I genuinely cannot stand her, the thought of her gnashers getting anywhere near my dick makes me wince.

  Her parents are greeting Esther and Willie, Thomas looking at Esther’s rack for longer than is polite. I slump back into my chair. I am 30 for Christ sake, yet I feel like a teenager again.

  I dig in my trousers pocket to find my phone, I need an excuse to get out of here. I feel around for it and remember just in time that I swiped Leilani’s knickers when I picked up my phone.

  Don’t go looking at me like that, my phone was underneath them and they are sinfully sexy. A shocking pink lace that barely covered anything. I couldn’t help myself.

  My mind flicks quickly to images of her laid out on her huge bed in nothing but the shocking pink scrap. I feel everything tighten. She is sinful that woman.

  My thoughts are interrupted by Thomas, telling me he saw me on the television today with Malachi. I politely tell him that the case is ongoing in order to shut him up.

  “I still can’t believe Trent Fitzgerald got himself mixed up in all that, good job he’s retired now though, eh son? Every cloud and all that”

  I am desperate to know what he means by that, but I was raised with a certain amount of decorum. I nod politely and settle back in the chair. It is going to be a long night.

  Dinner was long, and boring. I had to remove Millicent’s hand from my leg on more than one occasion, I didn’t want her to get too close, god forbid she might think my erection was for her benefit. I wonder if it is too weird to go back to Leilani’s? I want to bury myself in her familiarity, get rid of the vile taste dinner has left in my mouth.

  The second the bill was settled, I was up and out of my chair darting for the valet station.

  As we approach the doors, there’s a loud noise and I am blinded by the lights flashing in my face. Paparazzi. I thought they had rules about this?

  “Guy, Guy, can you tell us anymore on Malachi Harris?”

  “Has he got any plans on visiting his father”

  “Will you be representing them too?”

  “Guy!”

  “Guy!”

  I hear Millicent gasp as I try to find my way through the throng, I am still a gentleman at heart, I hold her next to me as we make our way to the waiting vehicle. I don’t even look to see which door is being held open, I help her into the back seat and jump in slamming the door behind me. Keeping the vultures at bay.

  “Just take us around the block please, I need t
o go back and get my car”

  Millicent is pouting next to me, “I thought you might want to come home with me”

  I know my frown is deep as I can feel my eyes closing under its force.

  “No, Millicent. You will take this car wherever the hell you need to go, but it will not be with me”

  I call the restaurant and they arrange for my car to be waiting for me at the back. I have never been so pleased to be in an alley before. I pay the driver and tell him to take Millicent wherever she needs to go and escape into my own car. I grab the keys from the valet, throw him a £20 note and speed away. Thank God that’s over.

  Leilani

  Part of my daily routine is going through the tabloids, online, in print and making sure all of my clients are behaving. I called Rayne last night to tell her that she is back on the Malachi case and damage limitation is needed asap.

  She’s due any minute that should please me. But it doesn’t. It’s not that I don’t want to see her, it’s because Guy will be coming with her.

  I skim the pages, passing all the low-grade celebs who are not on my books, thank god. When my PA lets me know Guy and Rayne are here.

  I tell her to send them in and go back to my computer. As I scroll through, there in front of me is a picture of Guy, with his hands around some blonde chick climbing into a black cab outside of Saxon’s last night. It shouldn’t bother me. It doesn’t bother me. We’re just shagging right?

  Rayne bursts through my door like a whirlwind. She look amazing. Her tan from Portugal is highlighted by her white dress, she’s got on a pair of my fave Sophia Webster shoes, bright print with butterflies protruding from the back of the heel. Love really suit’s her.

  “Sugar Tit’s” she bellows and comes around my desk for a kiss

  “That’s my line! Bitch face” I retort as I smack her with a welcome kiss that leaves a bright mark on her cheek.

  “Miss Barros” Guy baritones at me. I feel my pussy clench, like a greedy little cow, she’s ready to swallow him whole.