Luke Bradbury

Undercover: The Adventures of a Real Life Gigolo


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      Tower Bridge was edged in lights, and through it you could see the glint of the river and the city’s lights beyond the water’s edge. I set Chloe down, and she leaned against the wall beside me and together we peered upstream. I looked over the balcony. God, it was a long way down.

      Sasha hovered by the door with her glass in her hand.

      I nestled closer to Chloe and put an arm around her. She turned her head and kissed my shoulder, and I ran my fingers through her hair and we embraced. The pair of us shifted away from the full glare of the bedroom to the subdued corner of the balcony closest to the bridge. It loomed before me as I entered her. Nothing but the two of us in its shadow. And as I kissed the curved length of Chloe’s neck I watched beyond the strands of her hair, the bridge’s pair of pale stone towers, each topped by a hard gold tip that glinted in the night.

      My focus shifted with my quickening rhythm to the guns jutting out of HMS Belfast’s shadowed hulk in the waters just beyond the bridge. They had the range of London’s suburbs. I gave Chloe my full force. My cartridge spent, I collapsed against her.

       And farewell Uxbridge.

      We buried ourselves in each other, holding on until each had regained their breath. The chill air was balm on our hot skin. Sasha had already wrapped up, and handed us each a warmed bathrobe.

      ‘God, you look like two boxers after a round. Get those on and come in.’

      I put mine on, and helped Chloe on with hers. She looked up at me with a Cheshire Cat grin as I gave her myself as an extra layer. As we stepped back inside, I took one last look along the river as far as the eye could see. Far to the east in what for me were uncharted waters, there was a slither of red.

      ‘Hey, the sun’s coming up. Is it really that late?’ I shook my head. ‘Or early? Or whatever?’

      Sasha closed the window behind us and drew the curtain.

      ‘I’m going to take a shower, and then I’ve got to go home. I’ve got work today,’ she explained.

      Sasha had sealed the session’s end. Chloe slipped out of my arms and began to tidy up. That was it then. A wave of tiredness swept over me. It had been a fantastic night but I yearned for my own bed. I picked up my shirt from the arm of the chair.

      I was putting on my jacket when Sasha put her head around the bedroom door. She’d showered and had slipped on a dress and heels and touched up her makeup. Our night together really did feel over. The end of a ravishingly hot dream.

      ‘Look, I’m going in a minute…’

      I was as ready to go as she was. I took the bait.

      ‘We can share a cab if you like,’ I suggested.

      ‘That makes sense. Make yourself at home in the lounge, and I’ll call them.’

      I came out into the corridor and followed her towards the living room. As I passed the kitchen, I looked in. It was chrome and dark marbled slabs and curved edges.

      ‘It’s been lovely to meet you, Chloe.’

      It was code, the business part. She hung up the tea towel.

      ‘Ah yes, I’ll get you your coat. You just take a seat.’

      I sat back down on the sofa and put on my shoes. Everything had a different gloss on it. It still looked like it was out of a colour supplement, but I could see Chloe in it too.

      Chloe returned to the room and Sasha was steps behind her, already in her coat. We’d come full circle. Chloe handed me my own coat and slipped me a padded envelope as she did. I put on the coat and put the money in my pocket without looking at it.

      ‘Thanks, for everything.’ I smiled at Chloe.

      She patted my arm. ‘No, thank you.’

      ‘Hey, love, I’ll call.’ Sasha wrapped an arm around her lover and they kissed goodbye.

      We took the lift back down, and walked out into the early morning light. Everything had a crisp glow. I opened the cab door for Sasha and climbed in after her.

      ‘Notting Hill, please,’ she instructed.

      We said nothing. London’s streets filed past in a blur. I was dog-tired, spent. I put my brain into cruise control.

      Her words broke the silence.

      ‘Luke, do you want to come back and stay at my house for a while?’

       Aw, man.

      I was torn. God knew I needed some sleep. And I was desperate to get home and tell my mates about tonight.

      Sasha crossed her leg. Her mule hung off her foot like a hand beckoning me. My eye was drawn up her leg to the hint of floral cotton peeping out from beneath the thick navy wool of her winter coat. Not like last time.

       I know exactly what’s beneath all that.

      ‘I’ll go back with you,’ I nodded.

      I looked out of the window. We passed rows of white Georgian terraces that reminded me of wedding cakes.

      ‘I’ll pay you a thousand pounds for coming over,’ she announced quietly.

      Hang on. How many hours is this going to go on? A couple at most, surely?

      I’d already been paid for my time, and I sure as hell knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep up that same level of service. For one thing, I was exhausted by the stress of giving the impression I knew exactly what I was doing.

      ‘That’s not right. I don’t want that much money.’

      We looked at each other, neither of us quite sure where to go from there. I decided to take things into my own hands.

      ‘Look, you pay for my taxi home afterwards and I’m happy.’

      We were somewhere behind Portobello Road. The cab edged along two sides of a fenced-off garden square and stopped outside one of the doors of a tall flat-fronted house. Sasha paid the driver and I watched her as she did and felt bad about how I’d dismissed her money and, what’s more, sold myself short.

      Get with the programme, Luke. That was damn unprofessional. You’re not giving it away. And neither is she.

      Sasha let us in and led me into a small lounge off the hallway. The room felt more relaxed than Chloe’s place with a couple of comfy armchairs facing another massive flat-screen telly above a square fireplace.

      We’d barely got through the door before Sasha had stripped me of my coat and I of hers. I tore her dress over her head and raced to unbutton my shirt as quickly as she was tugging it off me. She gripped me by my waistband and flung herself into one of the chairs and pulled me on top of her.

      The armchair was made for cramped, hard fucking.

      Afterwards, we curled up together, she on my lap with her legs over the chair’s arm, and I held her hand and played with her fingers. I fiddled with her ring.

      ‘You’re married?’

       In for a penny…

      She looked into my eyes and nodded.

      ‘As good as. In March,’ she smiled.

       Ah, letting off steam before he puts the lid on it.

      The index finger of her other hand traced an ever-decreasing circle above my right nipple.

      ‘We’re having the wedding in Jamaica—on the beach—and we’re flying out all my family and friends too.’

      ‘Wow.’

      She gazed up at the ceiling. ‘He gave me all this. This house. I’m doing it up. I’ve got the workmen coming in this afternoon. That’s why I had to get back. It’s something to do, you