“And so I told her that I was a grown man and I could come home whatever time I liked…”
You smiled politely, downing the last of your drink, trying to think of a way to escape without seeming rude.
This date had been nothing if not a complete and utter fucking failure. The man sat beside you at the bar; Billy… or was it Bobby? You couldn’t remember and to be quite honest, you didn’t really care. A girl from work had set you up with him, declaring that he was a sweet man. But what she had failed to mention was that by sweet she actually meant dull as dish water. The man was thirty five and still lived at home with his mother, for crying out loud. His voice was nasally and irritating, and there was a piece of his slicked back hair that kept falling over onto his face, and you were resisting the urge to whip out the tiny sewing scissors you kept in your hand bag and cut that annoying little strand away.
Pretending that you were listening to the seemingly never ending babble of words coming out of his thin lips, your eyes flickered around the room looking for something to pique your interest. That was when your gaze fell upon him.
Nestled in a quiet corner, nursing a bottle of whisky alone, his azure eyes met yours over the crowded bar and you swore you felt like you had been punched in the gut. It should be illegal for someone to look that good. His hair was cropped at the back and sides, leaving it longer and sweeping on top. For a second you allowed yourself to imagine running your fingers through those dark locks as his full, pouting lips brought you to an orgasm.
The man smirked and you blushed, convinced that he had been able to read your filthy thoughts. He lifted his glass and tilted it towards you before tipping his head back to down the amber liquid. Your suddenly trembling hands reached for your own tumbler and you managed to knock it over, spilling gin all down the front of Brian’s (?) trousers.
“I’m so sorry,” you apologised, pulling a handkerchief out of your bed and holding it out to him.
Your inital reaction had been to wipe at the stain but then you didn’t want your date to get the wrong idea given how close it was to his no doubt smaller than average sized dick. So instead you had sat awkwardly as he bumbled nervously, wiping at himself. The truth though was that there was no way to make it look like he hadn’t pissed himself. But you were certain his Mummy would happily clean them for her darling boy.
“I really am sorry again,” you muttered insincerely.
“Oh don’t worry about it,” he smiled, those thin lips pulled back over slightly yellowing teeth. “Mum always says there’s no use crying over spilled milk, so I’m sure the same applies for gin. I’m just going to nip to the little boys’ room and see if I can’t clean this up. I’ll only be a minute.”
As your date, whose name you still couldn’t remember for the life of you, hurried off to the lavatories, you look across the room only to find yourself disappointed by the disappearance of the man with cheekbones that could literally cut open your thighs as he buried his head in between them.
“I’d say he’s gone off to the little boys’ room to do something else. But I doubt he knows what to do with that pitiful excuse of a manhood,” a low brum murmured into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
You spun around on your stool and gasped as you came face to face with him. He smirked and rubbed a cigarette along his lips before finding a comfortable place for it to rest. He lit it and his face was enveloped in a puff of smoke.
“I’d say you’ve got about another ninety seconds before he comes back out and you can resume this tedious date,” he spoke quietly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Or you can come with me and have a good time.”
“I don’t know you,” you raised an eyebrow. “And my mother always taught me never to go anywhere with strangers.”
He grinned knowingly, leaning closer until his elbow touched your arm. “I own this city which means I can’t be a stranger to anyone in it, can I?”
You bit your bottom lip, glancing at the lavatory door and then back at the man.
“Oh what the fuck,” you sighed to yourself with a giggle and jumped down from your stool. “Come on then, self-proclaimed owner of Birmingham. But I warn you, if you don’t turn out to be as much fun as you look, I’m going to be sorely disappointed.”
You followed the nameless man blindly through the dark and deserted streets until you reached his car.
“I won’t bite,” he promised, noticing your hesitation when he opened the passenger door for you.
You knew that what you were doing was absolutely reckless but since moving here a few weeks ago, you had made yourself a promise to be more outgoing. Although at the time, your idea of outgoing had been to join a dance class or a language group, not to jump into cars with random men in the late hours of the night. Oh well, you only lived once, right? Or maybe you wouldn’t live to see the end of the night? Either way one more look at his god like face and you were willing to take the risk. Anyway, for some completely inexplicable reason you didn’t think he wanted to hurt you. Sure, that was probably what all naïve women told themselves, but there was just something in his eyes that made you believe him, despite that dangerous aura that surrounded him. You got the impression that if he wanted to hurt you, he wouldn’t lead you away to do it. He looked like a man who did what he wanted when he wanted, and no one would question it.
The car was fancy with plush leather seats that you sank into. It smelt of cigarette smoke and musk. It smelt like him. The engine rumbled to a start and then you were gone; the gloomy streets whizzing by and the cool air hitting your face as you drove along.
You pulled up outside another pub a short while later. You had no idea where in the hell you were, and from what you could see the area looked a little run down. You frowned as you stepped out of the car, your black high heels narrowly missing a pile of horse manure. What on earth did a man who dressed like him have to do with a place like this?
“Are you going to stand there all night?” he questioned, walking towards the pub doors, stopping to wait for you.
With a grin you followed him inside.
This pub was nothing like the one you had been in less than an hour before. It was shabby and run down, yet there was a somewhat homely quality to it. You noticed that the patrons immediately sat up a little straighter as you both walked in, and many tipped their caps politely to your companion who acknowledged them back with a slight nod of his head.
“Is anyone in there, Harry?” your companion asked the tall man behind the bar, motioning to the room in the corner of the pub. The bartender who, you realised, had hurriedly abandoned the customer he was already serving in place of the suited man beside you.
“No, Mr Shelby,” the bartender shook his head.
“Good,” the man nodded. “My friend and I will be sitting in there, so I trust you’ll keep anyone else away.”
“Of course, Mr Shelby,” the bartender nodded. “What will you be drinking?”
“Whisky,” he answered quickly before looking at you with a hint of a smile. “And we’ll have some gin for the lady.”
As the man set about pouring your drinks, the man who you now knew to be called Mr Shelby led you into the quiet room, shutting the door behind you both. You frowned as the name rolled around your head. Shelby. Why did that name ring so familiar? Where had you heard it before?
Shelby. Shelby. Shelby. You chanted it internally as though the very act would suddenly bring you to a recollection. Even as you sat and the drinks were pushed through the little window in the room, you thought of nothing else but that name.
The man sat down beside you, resting one of his arms behind yours on the cushioned couch and he pulled off his hat, dropping it onto the table in front of you. You saw a tiny glint of metal in the peak of his grey cap and suddenly you felt as though you had been doused with freezing cold water.
You felt like an absolute idiot. This man was a Shelby. A fucking Shelby. That’s why you knew the name. Everyone in Birmingham knew the name. And if this man proclaimed to own the city then there was only one Shelby he could be.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he murmured, watching the various emotions you tried desperately to control as they flickered across your face.
“I’m fine,” you replied tightly, taking your gin and downing almost all of it in one gulp. I’m fine. Completely fine. I’m just sat alone in a room with Thomas fucking Shelby, leader of the Peaky Blinders. I have no idea where I am and this man could do anything to me and not a soul here would stop him.
“You don’t have any ties to Billy Kimber do you?” he asked quietly. “Or perhaps any Irish connections?”
“No,” you stammered nervously. “What would make you think that?”
“Just checking,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink as his eyes followed the way your tongue darted out nervously to moisten your lips.
“Are you trying to purposely make me nervous, Mr Shelby?” you asked, swallowing.
“Depends,” he smirked, leaning closer. “Is it working?”
The hand behind you moved slightly to brush against your neck covering your entire body in goose bumps at such an innocent action. You didn’t look away from him as his hand moved to the front of your neck, enveloping it, and you realised that with just one movement this man could strangle the life out of you if he wished. Your breath caught in your throat as your heart began to race erratically.
He placed his other hand on your bare knee, smirking when he realised you wore no stockings, and slowly skimmed his way up your thigh. He could feel the heat between your legs and if he were to move just an inch or two higher, he would feel how wet you were just from the knowledge that you were completely at his mercy.
“There are people right outside that door,” you whispered, as though he wasn’t completely aware of the fact.
“And?” he leaned in even closer until his mouth was mere millimetres away from your own.
You were desperate for him to kiss you. You were on the verge of panting and he had hardly touched you. He could sense your need and it fed him. The hand around your throat squeezed ever so slightly as the hand up your dress stroked at your knickers.
“You say stop and I’ll stop,” he murmured. “Otherwise, you do exactly as I want.”
You couldn’t have said no even if you wanted to. When a finger slipped underneath your underwear and teased along your wet slit, you moaned. And that was all the answer he needed.
Keeping a hold of you around your neck, he slid a finger inside you, grinning as you threw your head back in delight. His thumb found your clit and rubbed against it while he finally allowed his soft lips to touch yours. You moaned into his mouth as his thumb continued to manipulate as the same as he added another finger inside you and curled them slightly, before moving them in and out in an agonisingly delicious motion.
“Tommy,” you groaned as he licked and nibble the side of your neck, close to where his hand held you there.
“Clever girl aren’t you?” you felt him smile when he realised you had deduced who he was. “But are you a good girl? That’s the real question, isn’t it?”
Suddenly those glorious fingers moving about inside of you pulled out abruptly and your eyes flew open in a panic. You were so close to coming that you could have screamed in sheer frustration.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Tommy took in your wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “You’re going to take everything off for me before we go anything further.”
You nodded and made a move to unbutton his waistcoat but his firm hand stopped you.
“Uh uh,” he shook his head. “I didn’t mean take off my clothes. I meant take off your own.”
With shaking hands you did as you were told, pausing only once you were clad in nothing more than your peach slip.
“And the rest,” Tommy sat back from his seat to watch you. When your eyes flickered with trepidation towards the door and the countless patrons just outside in the bustling bar, Tommy smirked. “I said take it all off. Now.”
Swallowing, you allowed your silk shift to pool at your feet, and you watched Tommy’s eyes darken with hunger when you pulled off your bra and slid your knickers down your legs, leaving you completely bare before him.
Knowing that the door could open revealing your naked form to those on the other side filled you with dread but also made a frisson of excitement run through you.
Tommy’s eyes raked leisurely from your head to your toes before coming back up to look at your face. He stood slowly and you could see his erection straining to be freed from the confines of his charcoal trousers. He noticed where your gaze was and with a twitch of his lips he grabbed you roughly by the hair and pushed you to your knees.
“Unlike whatever his name was back there in that other pub, I take it you actually know what to do with this?” he surmised, pulling down his trousers and allowing his erecting to spring free, almost hitting you in in the face with its length.
You nodded and didn’t wait for any further instructions. The second you put the tip of his cock in your mouth, he hissed and you felt him thread his fingers through your hair. You could feel him dripping with want and you swirled your tongue, tasting it before taking as much of him in your mouth as you could. You wrapped your hand around the base as you began to move up and down on him, taking immense pleasure in the way he breathed sharply and clutched desperately at your hair.
He was close. You could feel it in the way his cock twitched in your mouth. You could hear it in the way he struggled to catch his breath. Suddenly he dragged you up from the floor and dumped you unceremoniously on the table and without giving you even the slightest warning, he thrust inside you so hard that your teeth rattled.
He pushed you to lay back on the sticky wood so he could lift your legs up over his shoulders. You groaned loudly as he pushed even deeper inside you.
“Not too loud love,” he whispered, his own eyes closed in pleasure. “Make a sound and they’ll hear it out there.”
You nodded, biting your lip and trying your hardest to keep quiet. But the pressure inside you was building already and you covered your mouth with your hand in desperation. Tommy pounded into you mercilessly, his hands digging into your thighs as he gripped onto them, and you knew he was going to leave bruises.
One of his hands moved to your clit, teasing and circling until your orgasm hit you faster than the speed of lightening. With a grunt Tommy followed suit, pulling out so his hot cum spurted across your stomach and breasts.
Afterwards, when you were both cleaned and tidied up, Tommy opened the hatch and called out for another drink for you both. You sat in comfortable silence, sipping and talking like two old friends.
At the end of the night, when the pub had finally fallen silent, Tommy led you back to his car and drove you home.
You kissed his cheek before you climbed out and for a second his hand lingered against your face.
It was uncertain if the two of you would ever meet again but if not you couldn’t say you were upset.
This has certainly been a night you would never forget.