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I dismounted without grace, backing away until I clattered into my own desk. I caught my breath with my eyes on his, and slowly the world came back. I dug out the keys from the case and set him free. He shot to his feet like a bullet, rubbing sore wrists and making a big old deal of it.
He tried to look back over his shoulder, twisting to see the damage. “I’m not going to be able to sit down for a fucking week, you crazy bitch.”
“Good,” I said. “Might have taught you a lesson.”
“Don’t count on it,” he said, but this time there was no edge to it, no spite. The tension had cracked and dissipated, leaving just us and a club to run. He brushed past me, standing close as he slipped back into his shirt. He grimaced as he pulled up his boxers, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the expletives as he pulled his trousers up after them.
He recovered his composure as he fixed his tie, then shot me the same old Andy Morgan scowl. “What now? Am I going to have to walk you through that bastard marketing plan?”
I smiled, knowing the perfect answer to his question.
“No,” I said. “You’re going to work the bastard bar.”
***
Faye
I filled in my card details and pressed confirm on my online order. One sweet parcel winging its way in my direction. I smiled to myself. My week was sure going to go out with a bang. I wasn’t sure which excited me more, my own deviant plans for the weekend, or the promise of retribution to follow. All dependent on the will of the coin, of course.
I’d heard not a peep from Andy since he disappeared off to the bar. It could only be a good sign.
With a few minutes to closing I shut down my laptop, invoices processed and filed, and a fresh doorman job advert posted online. Taking the reins felt mighty fine, in all aspects.
The playrooms were pretty quiet as I made my way past, a blonde-haired Missy and the artist boyfriend they called Savage just about wrapping up a bondage session. A couple of regulars chatted innocuously in one of the booths, and Mistress Raven and her sweet submissive Cara were propped up by the bar.
My stomach fluttered as I caught sight of him. He was actually smiling, whipping up a couple of Screaming Orgasms like he’d been doing them his whole life. I smiled as I arrived, taking a seat next to Raven.
“Well, I never thought we’d be having Mr Head Honcho serve our orgasms this evening,” she cackled. “What did you do to him, Faye? What’s your dirty secret?”
Andy’s eyes met mine for just a second, a dark sizzle of knowing passing silently between us.
“As if I could get him to do anything,” I grinned. “He’s far too much of a control freak to take orders from the likes of me.”
He smiled a sly smile. “I’ve fixed you many a Screaming Orgasm in my time, Raven,” he said. “It’s just been awhile.”
She took the glass from his hand. “Cheers,” she said. “Here’s to many more.”
Cara and Raven didn’t dawdle, they necked their drinks in one as soon as Missy and Savage appeared, and the four of them trooped out like a cosy little foursome. Topaz presented me with her truth or dare cards as we waited for the last of the regulars to leave. They were sweet. Sweet and hot. Like her.
How I’d love to give her the action her sweet little body craved.
“They’re great,” I said. “Just what we need for the birthday bash.”
“The birthday bash?” Andy raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you even remembered.”
“Two weeks this coming Saturday,” I said. “I’d never forget our baby’s birthday.”
“I guess your card must have got lost in the mail these past few years,” he sniped, before his expression softened. Just a fraction, but it was progress. “Maybe Explicit will consider forgiving you if you give it a good one this time.”
“I’m planning on it,” I said. “Explicit will have the best birthday party the world has ever seen.”
He pulled a card from my hand. “And this is its big birthday bonanza, is it?One, two, three, four, I declare a tonguing war. Grab your opponent and wet your smackers, this little game is like thumb wars but wetter. Pin your partner’s tongue to the count of ten or until one of you bails out. No nipping, let’s keep it a clean fight.”
“It’s good,” I smiled. “Our little games master has quite a way with words.”
“Quite,” he said. “Shame her artistic flair doesn’t quite match up.”
Topaz’s face dropped a little and her cheeks burned, and I felt it in my heart. “They’re beautiful,” I said. “Don’t listen to grumpy guts, he’d have them printed on ivory, in neat charcoal lettering.”
