Sexy as Hell Box Set (9 page)

“Everything all right?” I asked, going for the normal, breezy approach.

“Um, yeah. I was just…” He lowered his hand to his lap and gave a barely there smile.

I knew what he ‘was just’ doing all right. He was just thinking about what the hell he’d got himself into since he’d met me. He was just thinking about Julie, me and Carlos, although I wouldn’t be telling him that the man who was in charge of keeping an eye on his car had, in fact, been having a butt plug shoved up his arse while said car owner was staining his trousers with hopefully the best ejaculation he’d ever had. He’d find that out shortly.

“Never mind,” he said, standing and putting on a smile as fake as mine.

He walked around the desk and joined me, and without saying another word I opened the front door and went out into the cold of Eden Street. He followed and stood beside me, glancing up and down.

“Uh, where’s Carlos?” he asked, looking worried.

“He’ll be here in a minute, don’t get your pants in a wad. And they are in a wad, aren’t they? You know, taken off, bunched into a soggy ball, now sitting in your jeans pocket if that bulge is anything to go by.”

“You’re disgusting,” he said, then chewed the inside of his cheek.

Was he trying not to laugh?

“Yeah, but you enjoyed it, didn’t you?” I cocked my head and raised my eyebrows.

He stopped glancing about and looked at me. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” I asked, feigning innocence.

“That. The job you do.”

I shrugged. “It’s a job like any other. Why, how do you do yours?”

“Point taken.”

“Curiosity getting to you?” I asked, stamping my feet to ward off the chill that was already seeping through my boots and into my toes.

“A bit.”

“Thought it might. I mean, it’s difficult not to be intrigued, isn’t it?”

He nodded, and we stood there for a few moments without speaking, the only sounds the faint swoosh of traffic and the incessant tapping of my boots on the cobbles.

“Ah, here’s my beautiful Spanish friend, look.” I nodded to our left.

The Porsche pulled up at the kerb and Carlos climbed out, taking just an extra second to unfurl his body from the sporty car. He wore jeans that sat low on his hips, but no top. He was just acres of muscle coated in flesh. Flesh that held some very distinct flogger marks.

Victor’s mouth dropped open, and he appeared as if he had something to say but didn’t know how to say it.

“There you go, no harm done,” Carlos said, straightening. “She’s all yours again.” He grinned and brushed past Victor, their arms touching, before he rapped smartly on the club door.

“Come on then,” I said brightly, scooting around the front of the car to the passenger side. “Better be quick. Before someone tries to steal your midlife-crisis carriage.”

“Don’t joke about it,” he said, giving me what he must have thought was a stern glare. “And who says I’m going through a midlife crisis?”

“I do,” I said over the top of the car.

“I’m bloody well not,” he said, dropping into the driver’s seat.

I climbed in. “You bloody well are. Otherwise, why on earth are you driving something as obscenely pussy-pulling as this, and why do you pick up strange women in coffee shops?”

“You said it,” he muttered, slamming his door and revving the engine to life.

“I said what?”

He stared at me through the darkness. “
Strange
women. You. I picked you up.”

No, I picked
you
up.

“I think you’d better take me home, don’t you?” I laughed lightly. “Otherwise we might have a falling out.”

I buckled up.

After he’d done the same, he looked at me. “Take you home?”

“Yes…”

“Oh, it’s just that I thought…” He frowned, pursed his lips.

“Thought what?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I didn’t think anything at all.”

Today I decided I’d visit the coffee shop to browse for men who might feature in my future. After all, a month never lasted long in my life, time always zipped by, and making sure I had a new toy to play with once Victor was gone would pass the hours until I saw him this evening. Of course, there were always the customers I could take my pick from, but I’d always felt mixing business with pleasure wasn’t the done thing. Julie had indulged on occasions, and from what she’d told me she’d had a high old time of it, but it had always left her wanting. It seemed the men who paid to watch her flog herself didn’t quite have the balls to flog her in the same way or with such violent tendency. The poor woman was destined to be left wanting in that regard.

Victor had dropped me off last night without saying anything during the journey, and I’d taken it that he’d been mulling things over, processing what he’d seen and how he’d felt. It was a shock to the system, being dragged out of your vanilla life and into something a little more risqué, I knew that all too well, so I hadn’t spoken either. I’d had a moment where my stomach had seemed to plummet when I’d thought about him calling it off—but that was only because I didn’t like to see things unfinished. Nothing to do with him as a person or having a proper relationship whatsoever. But then I’d thought about what he’d said before we’d left the car park. He’d assumed we were going out, hadn’t he? Thought the evening wasn’t at its end.

Now, I felt quite smug about that revelation. That he’d wanted to spend more time with me—or if it wasn’t that, he’d maybe wanted a bit more cock action. He’d possibly entered the greedy phase, on a par with when you’ve gone without something you didn’t know you liked, tasted it, and suddenly there was an abundance of it, ready for the taking. Ready for gorging on. That I-think-I-know-everything man had discovered that he didn’t know the half of it and was eager to soak up more experiences. My little sponge. That boded well for the coming month, and all the naughty things I had in store for him would see the light of day.

Still, it hadn’t hurt to tell him to take me home. Keep them keen, that was the order of the day. Deny them what they wanted and they’d play right into your hands to make sure you gave it to them. And yes, I wanted him in my hands, every last beautiful inch of him. In my cunt, too, but there was no rush. All good things came to those who waited.

It was cold again, and in contrast to the pleasant heat of my car, the brisk, chilly wind seemed to have it in mind to drive me back home. Instead, I allowed it to shunt me into that coffee shop, and I pushed open the door with relief to be in the warm. I’d dressed much as I had when I’d met Victor—casual chic, nothing fancy, nothing too revealing, my hair loose and spilling over my shoulders—and made my way to the counter. I scoped the place out as I strode, noting two men sitting alone and that they didn’t catch my fancy. They were good-looking enough, I’d give them that, but neither of them ignited that spark, the one that let me know that the minute I ordered them to lick my cunt they’d be down on their knees in an instant, tongues out.

I smiled to myself. I’d thought Victor would have taken me up on that offer, would have sworn to it on the day we’d met that he was a self-assured bachelor who was into kink and had it in him to do anything I asked without being coerced.

How wrong I’d been.

I ordered an espresso and chose a seat in the far corner at the back so I could see the door and any potentials as they came in. It was the same position I took up every time I came here, a pussy on the prowl, lying in wait until her prey innocently approached. I never got my claws out so they could see them, but they were there nevertheless, snagged into their jacket lapels, drawing them closer to me. How had I got it so arse backwards with Victor? Yes, I did believe I had snagged him anyway, but that first experience, where he’d refused my delightful offer… I needed to learn to read people more carefully.

Seated, I stared around the room, comforted by the scents of coffee, Danish pastries, powdered doughnuts, cookies and that thickness to the air of such places that made me feel right at home. If I could bottle the scents and capture the emotions it wrought in me I would. I sighed in pleasure and took a sip of my coffee, anticipating that by the time I’d finished my first cup I’d get that wonderful hit and be ready to take on the world.

I wasn’t ready to take on Victor, though, who entered in a black suit and white shirt, directing his attention straight at my corner. His eyes widened when he took me in, and I had trouble not doing the same. What was
he
doing here? Didn’t he have his own posh coffee in his office, prepared by the overbearing Mary? Didn’t he have
work
to do? I drew in a deep breath and plastered on a smile. No way was I letting him know he’d thrown me for a loop, caught me in my mission to find a new playmate. He didn’t smile back, which was a little disconcerting, but no matter. What did I care? If he’d slept on things and wanted to break our agreement, well, I was in the perfect place to collect someone new and show them the good time Victor would be missing.

He stalked—yes, stalked!—to the counter and ordered, glancing my way once or twice and scowling as though I’d done something to piss him off. By the look of him he’d be telling me soon enough, no need for me to worry over what was wrong. Cup in hand, he walked over and placed it on the table, sitting opposite and folding his arms across his chest. I smiled brightly, cocking my head and twirling a strand of hair around my finger.

“What the hell are
you
doing here?” he asked, lowering his chin and staring at me as if I’d done the most hideous thing known to man.

“Having a bloody coffee!” I blurted,
indignance rising in me. “It’s what you tend to do in these places, didn’t you know that? And I might well get right into the swing of it and have a Danish with my next cup, if it’s all the same to you.”

He slackened the tightness of his arms a bit, and his shoulders lost a little of their rigidity. I’d have thought my response would have riled him further and was a tad confused because it hadn’t.

“Oh, right,” he said. “I thought…”

There he went, thinking again.

“You thought
what
, exactly?” I reached for my cup, annoyed that my hand was shaking.

He blushed fiercely and lowered his gaze. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Obviously it does, otherwise you wouldn’t have felt the need to question me, would you, when it’s pretty obvious what a person does in a coffee shop.”

“No, it isn’t.” He reached out for his cup. His hand shook too.

“Isn’t it? How so?” I sipped, not needing the caffeine hit now. I was well and truly ready to take on the world
and
his damn wife.

“You…you pick people up here,” he said quietly.

“And?” I almost shouted, not caring who heard me. “That is your concern how?”

“Like I said, it doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

Oh, but it
did
matter. What was he getting at? Did he think because we had an exclusive month together he had the right to stop me from browsing for my next conquest? Not on his bloody life!

“Listen, you,” I said, jabbing a pointed finger in his direction. “I can do as I please while I’m teaching you. If I want to come here and look around, browse what’s on offer, I will. If I see someone I quite like the look of, I’ll file it up here.” I tapped the side of my head. “Once our month is finished I’ll come back, and if that someone is here again and is up for some fun, then fun is what I’ll be having.
You
don’t tell
me
where I go or who I see afterwards, you got that?”

He looked up, and the expression on his face shocked the shit out of me. His eyes were glossy, his mouth downturned, and a frown scored deep wavy lines across his forehead. Had I missed something here or what?

“I see,” he said. “Well, at least I know where I stand.”

What?
“I thought I’d made it clear from the start where you stood! Where I stood.”

He nodded, shifting his gaze away from me to stare at the wall behind. “You did. I must have just…I thought… Really, it doesn’t matter.” He shook his head and returned his attention to me. “I apologise. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Neither do I,” I said, “but it wasn’t very pleasant. Now, are you up for anything tonight or, seeing as you’re in a foul mood, do you want to give it a miss?”

“No,” he said quickly, reaching out a hand to cover mine. “No, I need…” His face went red. “Tonight is fine. What time?”

“I’ll text you,” I said, draining my cup as I stood.

“Where are you going?” he asked, gripping my hand tighter.

“
Not
that it’s any of your business, but I’m going to get that second cup and the Danish I mentioned, all right?”

He nodded, releasing my hand.

“Oh, good,” I said, those words brimming with sarcasm. “So glad I have your approval. Do you want a cake?”

“No, thank you. I think I’ll get the woman to make this a coffee to go.”

“Suit yourself.”