Read The Face (Harry Tyler Book 1) for Free Online

fashionable.” There was a twinkle in his eye. Geraldine decided she didn’t mind if that was the truth or not.
    For his part, Johnny Too was quite taken by her. She was tall, about five-foot-eight, with shoulder-length black hair and magnificent breasts. She was posh, too, and a lot brighter than his usual bits of stray. Christ, she even got his jokes.
    Geraldine sipped a glass of champagne. “After we’ve eaten, I’m going to take you up the back passage,” Johnny said quietly. She almost choked on her drink. John grinned. “It’s a little drinking club I know in Streatham,” he said. “Very upmarket.” Geraldine felt herself blush again and buried her head in the menu.
    “See anything you want?” Johnny asked.
    “Not on the menu …” She couldn’t believe she’d said that.
    John laughed.
    Geraldine made small talk to cover her embarrassment. “Funny how when you first look at a menu, you fancy everything ,” she said. “Starters, main, side dishes, cocktails, the lot. Then the starter comes and that fills you up on its own.”
    “There are defin’t’ly two states of mind when it comes to restaurants,” John said. “Pre-order and post-bill. Pre-order you want the works, but then the bill comes and wallop! Everyone has a steward’s into it. ‘Oo ordered the rum baba’ and all that caper.” He paused. “But you’ve got no worries with me, Geri darling. Order what you like. I had a right result last month, I got 10 grand from the big South London summer raffle draw.”
    “You won the raffle?”
    “No, love, I organised it.”
    That twinkle again. Geraldine wanted to stroke his hand, but one of the bouncers came up and whispered something in John’s ear. Johnny Too looked grim. “Tell him to keep on the other side of the club,” he said angrily. “I don’t want him coming over and shaking my hand, making small talk, chopping out Charlie or anything, all right? The bloke is a mug.”
    The bouncer nodded and walked off to an elderly well-coiffured man in an expensive suit who was gawping at a table dancer.
    “Who …?’ Geraldine started to ask.
    “Plastic gangster,” Johnny Too spat. “The place is crawling with ’em. That fella once wrote a book about how he was a getaway driver for the Krays and I know full well he was the fucking tea-boy, excuse my French. You get it all the time, old geezers over the East End who reckon they used to run with the Krays. Yeah, right, maybe on school sports days but that’s it. I don’t have mugs like that wrapped around me.” Then he smiled again. Geraldine looked at him. Johnny Baker was obviously a dangerous man to know.
    “You know what, Johnny,” she said. “I’ve lost my appetite. Would you walk me to Charing Cross station, please?”
    He looked puzzled. “What did I do wrong?” he asked.
    “Nothing,” she said. “Yet…”
    They both smiled.
    As they strolled down St Martin’s Lane, Geraldine shivered. Johnny put an arm around her. God, she thought, he feels so strong.
    “Where have you got to get to?” he asked.
    “Bickley.” She hesitated then said, “Would you like to come back for coffee?”
    He stopped dead and turned her to face him. They kissed. He pulled her body into his. Geraldine felt him harden and knew that she had to have this man. Johnny Too hailed a taxi to take them the quarter of a mile to Charing Cross station. In the back, he slipped a hand down the inside of her stockinged legs and met no resistance. He thought his cock was going to burst out of his suit trousers. At Charing Cross he slung the driver a tenner. “You know what,” he said as he helped her out. “I can’t wait for Bickley.” John glanced towards the Charing Cross Hotel. Geraldine nodded OK.
    They were barely inside the hotel room when they were on each other, probing with tongues and fingers. Geraldine unzipped his fly, released his swollen cock and cupped it in her hands. It felt good, seven, maybe eight inches long with a nice