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The silence permeating their line was almost deafening.Is she angry?Women didn’t like being told they didn’t understand something. Monique had a feeling that Helen couldn’t even begin to comprehend what Jacqueline had done over the years… it didn’t matter how much she tried. There were some things she couldn’t…
“I’m sorry,” Monique said, both elbows leaning against her desk. “What I meant was…”
“That you’re a guarded woman who has been through some… times.”
“You could say that.”
Helen sighed into her phone, and Monique heard the creak of her chair as she sat at her presumably messy desk. “I hope that I haven’t done anything to lose your trust.”
“Of course not. You’ve been an absolute angel.”
“Minus the part where I spank your ass raw and fuck you against public walls.”
Monique smiled. “Who said an angel doesn’t do that?”
“Nobody, but I’m not deluded into thinking I’ll make all your problems go away.”
“You could help me. Maybe not get overherbut move on. Learn to love all those things again. Trust somebody.”Don’t put too much pressure on her.Etta had warned about that as well.
“What things, Monique?”
The way she said it… purred Monique’s name right into the receiver… sent shivers of ecstatic hope through every neuron in one woman’s body. Monique’s phone rattled against a curler. “You know what things.”
“I’m sure our imaginations are veering in different directions. I can’t read your mind. Look out your window and see your prince bumbling on a thin string of rope, and that’s me. Either throw me a thicker rope or start heaving me in with your brute strength. Go on. Either method works for me.”
Monique wanted to laugh at the image. “Not here on the phone. Besides, you’ve already made me waste some of this paper. I’ll write you a list of the things I want to do with you.”
“Christmas isn’t for another few months yet. Santa Claus can only do so much now.”
“I don’t want Santa Claus.” Monique cleared her throat. “I want you, Helen.”
Her, her body, her kindness, her dry wit, and the rough and easy way she made love. Even before she spoke again, Monique was already writing something down on her paper to mail to Helen the next day.
“You want more than me. You want what I do to you, Monique.”
“Yes. I want your domination.” Her mouth was dry. “Because I’m a sub, Helen. I want to serve you. And I want to know that I can trust you with my life and world.”
“Of course. Well, get that list to me, and I look forward to seeing you on Friday.”
She said it so easily. So casually. It was moments like those that made Monique wonder if she was really that self-assured.
“I also look forward to it.” The words were caught in Monique’s throat. “I’m quite fond of you.”
“And I’m quite fond of you.”
They hung up.
Monique stared at the paper in front of her. Just as she picked up her pen again, there was a knock at the door.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am.” It was Sybil, helping herself into Monique’s office without invitation.Well, then. “I really need to talk to you.”
Monique flipped over her paper and sat back. “Sure. Have a seat.” Poor Sybil had been begging for an audience for a while now, but their schedules had yet to sync. The young woman looked like she was about to burst if she didn’t get out whatever was eating her up inside.
“Sorry, again.”
“Yes?”
Even with the curlers stuck in her hair, and her silk bathrobe not covering much of anything, Monique attempted to look like the boss she was meant to be. Not that she wanted to look intimidating… but Sybil was someone who responded best to a firmer hand. Or mouth, in Monique’s case.
