Phil's single episode of The Vice has pretty much gone down in legend, at least with fans of the gorgeous Mr G. If you haven't seen it, I can wholeheartedly recommend it, and trust me, you'll never look at a fridge the same way again! ;)

The full ep is still available on YT , just search for 'The Vice: Lust'. The title itself should be enough to get you champing at the bit, I suspect. Hopefully this fic will make sense even if you haven't seen it – but why would you not want to?!

A note of caution, though. The first chapter is not only M-rated for all the usual reasons, but very angsty. If that's not your thing, fine. Although I can promise it will get better as the story progresses. Anyway, I hope I've whetted your appetite so without further ado …

xxxxx

If Loving You Is Wrong …

Chapter 1

The unexpected chime of the doorbell broke Lorraine's intense concentration, disrupting her train of thought and leaving her disorientated for a moment. Mumbling expletives under her breath, she dropped the paperwork she'd been looking through and checked her watch, irritated at the ill-timed interruption. It was definitely too late for the postman and Faye, her flatmate and business partner, wasn't due back for a couple of hours, even if she had forgotten her key again. Huffing in frustration, she stretched to relieve the tension in her shoulders before heading in the direction of the narrow hallway. In all likelihood it was just a cold caller and she'd be able to get rid of them in no time and head straight back to work.

Deciding not to bother with the chain in the middle of the day she unlocked the door with a sharp dismissal already on her lips, but every coherent thought left her head as she gazed at her unexpected visitor open-mouthed.

"Hello, Dirty Girl."

Eighteen months in prison had left him leaner but otherwise unchanged. As she lost herself once more in the brilliant blue of his eyes she was hurled straight back to that dreadful day when she'd had to endure him being led away in cuffs, the shock and hurt at her betrayal written clear on his face. Something inside her had shrivelled and died that night, even though she knew it was his own choices which had inevitably led to his downfall and with her career hanging by a thread she'd had no other option. And now here he was on her doorstep, larger than life and just as devastatingly handsome. She cleared her throat and finally found her voice.

"J … Jason. What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, holding her gaze, his expression unreadable.

"Would've thought that was obvious. I'd say we have some unfinished business, wouldn't you?"

Her heart began to pound even faster, her throat tightening with nerves. Surely he'd never harm her, even after what she'd done? He must have read her thoughts because he dug his hands deeper into his pockets and she saw the flash of hurt in his eyes.

"I just want to talk, that's all. You going to invite me in, or not?"

She made a snap decision, stepping back to allow him access, and as he brushed past her she got a whiff of his subtle cologne and closed her eyes as a wave of desire washed over her.

xxxxx

Funny, she'd forgotten the way he was able to dominate a room simply with his presence. She watched him covertly as he wandered about, picking things up and putting them down again as if to familiarise himself with her environment. His height and those rugged good looks were undoubtedly a contributing factor, but the effect was more to do with his confident swagger and the general air of authority he cultivated. He'd existed in a 'dog-eat-dog' world through most of his childhood and all of his adult life, learned young that macho posturing and a fearsome reputation were all important if you wanted to survive.

Very few people were allowed close enough to acquire his trust, to find out what really made him tick, and she'd been one of them. She hung her head, hating herself all over again for what she'd been forced to do to him. Granted, she could never approve of the line of business he'd chosen but at least he'd been one of the good guys: by their own admission he treated his girls well and provided them with a safe and secure environment in which to ply their trade. In her heart of hearts she knew that prostitution would always continue to flourish even if it was against the law, and it played on her conscience that in all likelihood Jason had been replaced by much seedier individuals with far less scruples. In the end she hadn't been able to square the demands of the job with her conscience, and the regret about what she'd done had led her to quit and set up as a private investigator in partnership with Faye.

"So. How've you been?"

His gruff tones interrupted her reverie, and she looked up to find him watching her with the guarded expression she knew so well. It had taken him a while to decide to trust her, and she'd betrayed that trust in the worst kind of way. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"OK. Fine. How about you?"

She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth but he gave her a mirthless smile, patting his trim abdomen.

"Oh, you know. Eighteen months at Her Majesty's Pleasure does wonders for the waistline, if nothing else."

Lorraine sucked in a deep shuddering breath before speaking again, afraid the words might tumble out of her mouth in a senseless torrent.

"I'm sorry, Jase. If only I could make you understand how much … " She swallowed. "How it broke me to stand by and watch you cuffed and helpless, knowing it was down to me …"

She bit her lip to stop the tears that threatened, but his expression remained guarded.

"Didn't stop you though, did it?"

"What else could I do? Once they found out I was seeing you I had no other option, they made sure of that. My future was on the line, everything I'd worked so hard for."

Her voice shook with repressed emotion and he sighed, looking down at his feet.

"I didn't come here to lay a guilt trip on you, Lorraine. I just wanted to see how you were."

A tiny flicker of hope flared somewhere inside. Maybe he didn't totally hate her after all.

"I'm alright, thanks. Better since I quit Vice and Faye and I moved into private investigation. It was slow going at first but we're finally beginning to see some results from all our efforts."

He was suddenly very still and she held her breath, waiting for his response.

"So. After everything … the arrest … seeing me go down … you packed it all in."

There was an odd note in his voice as he turned away from her and an obvious tension in his shoulders. Suddenly nothing mattered but letting him know how she felt.

"I've missed you, Jason. Every single day …"

There was a pregnant pause before he spoke again, his voice gruff.

"Is this you trying to tell me you still want me?"

"I never stopped wanting you ..."

He still hadn't turned around so she moved in behind him, slipping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his rigid back. He didn't flinch or move away, but she could feel the tension radiating throughout his body.

"Prove it."

The low growl vibrated through his chest and her body responded with a shiver of arousal.

"What?"

Her heart was racing, the rapid pulse pounding in her ears. Did he mean …? Finally he turned and stepped out of her embrace, his expression unreadable. The fire in his eyes was enough to damn near melt her underwear though, and she couldn't miss the healthy bulge straining his jeans. She drew in a ragged breath as a powerful wave of desire washed over her leaving her weak-kneed and helpless. Seemed her feelings were entirely reciprocated.

"You heard. You still want me? Well, down on your knees and prove it then, Dirty Girl."

He fixed her with a smouldering gaze, raising an eyebrow in challenge, and suddenly she couldn't breathe. She'd never particularly enjoyed going down on a man before they met but from the very start everything had been different with Jason. She was crazy in lust with him, would've done just about anything to please him, and he knew it. This was both a test and a lesson of sorts: act the submissive, surrender the power, subjugate herself to him and then maybe, just maybe, they could move forwards. Together. Without breaking eye-contact, she reached behind her for a cushion from the sofa and placed it on the floor at his feet.

xxxxx

She'd forgotten just how well-endowed he was, licking her lips in anticipation as she ran her fingers teasingly up and down his rock hard length. Leaning in closer, she swirled her tongue around the tip before closing her full lips around him and drawing him into her mouth. He growled his approval, tangling his fingers in her hair as she slid him in deeper, cupping his balls and squeezing gently as she worked him with practised expertise. God, it felt so good to taste him again, to experience the shudder of pleasure that ran through him as she sucked harder, knowing exactly how he liked it. He began to throb along her tongue and she groaned around his shaft, preparing herself for the inevitable conclusion, until without warning he pulled out of her mouth.

"Jase?"

Confused, she tilted her head back, her gaze locking with his. She shivered with a mix of desire and anticipation at the hungry look on his face.

"Need to be inside you."

She nodded, getting to her feet willingly, the pulse between her thighs even more insistent as she waited to see what he would do next. He deliberated for a second and then nodded in the direction of the dining table.

"Knickers off, and bend over …"

It wasn't so much a request as a command and she was more than happy to comply, tugging her underwear down her legs with shaking hands and almost indecent haste, all pride forgotten. As she positioned herself, cheek resting on the smooth wood, he bunched her skirt up around her waist and caressed her naked bottom, drawing a low moan of appreciation from her. She heard the familiar crackle of a condom packet being ripped open and then he was kicking her legs further apart and thrusting into her so unexpectedly that the exquisite mix of pain and pleasure almost stole the breath from her lungs.

"Jason! Ohhhh … "

He took her hard and fast without any pretence at finesse and she clung to the edge of the table, welcoming the sensual assault, her hips rising to meet each powerful stroke. Jesus, it felt so good to have him buried deep inside her again and she closed her eyes as the delicious tension began to build low in her belly. And then, just when she was hovering on the brink of climax, it was all over, his fingers digging almost painfully into her flesh as he thrust one last time, emptying himself into her with a groan of satisfaction. As he withdrew from her body she whimpered at the loss but remained where she was, confident he wouldn't leave her high and dry, certain he'd be back to finish what he'd started.

"So. Can't say I'm entirely sure of the going rate nowadays, but let's call it forty for the blow job, shall we? And another eighty for the shag."

He laid down a pile of notes on the table next to her, and she blinked at it in bewilderment.

"Thanks, I needed that. Been a while, after all. I'll see myself out, shall I?"

A few seconds later she heard the front door close behind him and still she didn't move, her lust-addled brain refusing to acknowledge what had just happened. Then slowly, almost painfully, she sat up, a sudden tightness squeezing her chest, her lip quivering as she gazed down at the money in disbelief. Then the reality of the situation hit her like a slap in the face.

"Jason Grant, you complete and utter bastard …"

He'd treated her like a cheap whore, taking his own selfish pleasure and leaving her broken, humiliated and used. Digging her nails into her palms, she felt the sob rising in her throat as she slid to the floor and wrapped her arms tightly around herself like a defensive shield.

xxxxx

Outside the door, Jason leant his head back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Christ knows he hadn't intended to treat her like a tart, he'd just seen red when he found out she'd chucked in the bloody job. If it meant so little to her, why the hell had she chosen it over him in the first place? He cursed himself roundly for the callous way he'd behaved, considered whether to go back in and try and make things right, all the time knowing he'd completely blown it. After what he'd done she'd never want to see his ugly mug ever again, and the irony was that as soon as he'd set eyes on her again that afternoon he'd realised he was still crazy about her despite everything. With a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart he turned on his heel and strode off down the street, shoulders hunched in defeat …

xxxxx

I know, I know … blame the muse, she dictates and I just write the thing down! Still, it was never going to be easy for 'em, was it? Hope you found something to enjoy, anyway. If so, let me know. :)

A/N. I plan to try and update this fic reasonably regularly, but life may get in the way occasionally. If you've visited my profile page recently, you'll know I'm attempting to make a living with the scribbling nowadays. I think 'Seriously Impoverished' would cover my progress to date, but you gotta start somewhere, right?

At the moment I'm concentrating on short 'sexy' historical romance (mainly because I've got three pretty much written and a fourth in the pipeline!) but I'd really like to do some contemporary stuff too, more in the vein of most of my fic writing. I'd welcome any and all comments/ feedback/ encouragement as ever!