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A blonde patted the seat next to her. “C’mon over,” she purred.
I squeezed between the hips of two of the beauties. I had no idea how I would choose. They were all stunners.
“I’ve seen you here before. I know that mask,” the third said. “What’s your name?”
“G. What are yours?”
“X.”
“Y.”
“And—“
“Don’t tell me,” I interrupted. I pointed at the brunette.
“Your name is Z.”
She threw her head back with a lovely laugh. “Somebody knows his alphabet. We got a smart one here, ladies”
If she only knew.
I smiled under my mask, not that they could see it. Damn thing was making me hot, one of the hazards of wearing it. I had to remove my suit jacket and roll up the sleeves of my starched, cotton shirt. This covered the initials embroidered on my cuff: VG. They knew the G. They didn’t need to know the V.
“You’re funny, Miss Z. Why don’t you do a little dance for me?”
“Yeah, Z,” X said. “Show us your stuff.”
“I can do that.” She stood, taking a position in front of us, and commenced to gyrating, wearing only fuck me high heels and a lacy thong panty.
My dick strained against my trousers. The compression was beginning to get painful.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Z, you know that?”
I reached to place my hands on her lovely hips, but she stepped back, just beyond my reach.
It was all good. I was ready to move on, anyway.
I stood. “I’ll be in the playroom on the third floor. Just letting you know.”
I left behind a flurry of protests and headed for my favorite part of the club.
Chapter 2
Saffi
“Yo, Saff.”
God, I loved Tom’s nickname for me. Actually, I loved a lot of things about him.
If he only knew.
“Hey, how’s your day going?” I poked my head in his office door. Was he going to ask me to lunch? Finally? Or insist I join him in co-authoring a piece he was doing for the newspaper, which would be sure to win us both a Pulitzer prize.
“Saff, on your way back to your cube, would you mind running this stuff down to the mailroom for me?”
What. The. Fuck.
Without waiting for an answer, he turned back to his computer where he was most likely working on that Pulitzer prize winner, without me.
