Dirty Bad Savage(16)

“I usually try and keep fucking and fighting separate.” I smiled at her reflection, just a little bit. “Don’t always work out that way, though.”

She smiled back. “Fear and lust are a heady combination. It works for me.”

“Whatever you say. I’ll just sit here and keep me mouth shut.”

I watched her reflection. For someone that looked as good as she did she seemed awful self-conscious, putting lipstick over lipstick, and messing with her hair. I had questions, shit loads of them, but none of them were any of my bastard business. Didn’t even know her. I wondered what the man would be like, some posh arsehole probably, probably didn’t even know how to hit. Just a bit of slap and tickle, that’s all.

I changed my mind on that when she opened her suitcase. This shit didn’t look like play-acting. Handcuffs, and weird gag things like you see in porn films, and a shitload of whips and straps and even a fucking school cane. I looked away as she started pulling out the dildos. Shit, man. You can’t unsee that kind of private.

“I’ll take these through,” she said. “He’ll be here any minute.”

“What do I do if you call? Rough the arsehole up? Take him to the park and give him a kicking?”

“Christ, no,” she smiled. “Make him leave, that’s enough.”

I doubted it would be. Not for me.

Sophie Harding went through to the bedroom with her bag of tricks, and I sat in that fancy chair.

My stomach felt more fucked up than ever. Maybe it was the fucking steak after all.



***



Sophie

I was more nervous around Callum Jackson than I would ever be around Roger. If Roger was even his real name, of course. I would have doubted so, but who’d ever make up a name like Roger? Whoever the hell Roger was he had money, enough to pay for this suite and its fancy four-poster bed.

My security guard was like a caged animal: dark eyes examining everything, examining me. I’d told him about the BDSM a hundred times in my imagination, and each time it became a little more sensational. He’d hardly reacted at all in real life. Maybe the slightest surprise, if you can call it that, a bit of shock that the prissy estate manager he’d faced off in East Veil was a kinky little bitch under her suit. He hadn’t even reacted to the toys, nor the dildos. Nothing. Maybe he didn’t give two shits about any of it.

What had I even expected? That the savage would pin me again the moment we were through the door? Growl that he was a secret dominant, skilled with a cane and Japanese rope bondage? And then what? Slam me and hit me and fuck me until I begged him to stop?

Of course not.

He’d come for the money. I’d do well to remember that. I should remember that. Should be relieved.

Finally, the savage sat down. He stared at the door, already on high alert. I made my way through to the bedroom, keeping him in view as I arranged my toys on the bedside dresser. I wondered what Roger had in store for me. Something noisy, I’d said, something that would make the neighbours talk. Or Callum Jackson think. The Savage jumped up at the knock on the door, eyes like daggers.

“Sit down,” I said. “Relax.”

He didn’t sit. He backed up against the window.

I answered the knock, and a slickly-dressed Roger strode on in. He kissed me on both cheeks before catching sight of the man in the room, then shifted awkwardly, eyes questioning.

“I didn’t realise this was a party,” Roger said. “He joining in?”

My cheeks bloomed. “He’s just a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Keeping a look out,” the savage growled.

“I see.” Roger smiled, but it was fake.

The two men stared at each other, opposites colliding. Roger was actually the thicker-set man, broader shoulders standing proud under his suit jacket. His chestnut hair was slick to his scalp, light eyes obscured by a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. His appearance only served to make Callum seem wilder in comparison. Wild, and tightly wound, ready to spring. I took Roger’s hand, dragging him on through before the atmosphere bubbled to boiling point. I smiled at Callum before shutting the bedroom door, but he didn’t smile back.

“What the hell?” Roger hissed. “Where did you find that animal? Looks fucking vicious.”

“He’s a friend.”

“Really? I hope you know how to keep him on a leash.”

“He’ll be fine.” I hoped it wasn’t a lie.

Roger smiled. “Did it to wind me up, did you? A young bit of rough, all ready to jump in my place if I’m off my game...”

“Something like that,” I mumbled.

“Bad girl. You’ll pay for that.” He examined my toys. “I’ll give him something to listen to. On the bed.”