“I’m trying to get hold of Faye Devere, I have a parcel for delivery to her next week. Is she in?”
“No, sir, I’m afraid Ms Devere is not here at the moment.”
“Can you check something for me, please?” I cast an eye to the camera feed. It showed them still happily dicking about with cocktails. “I know she’s on a tight schedule. Will she still be in residence next Thursday?”
“I’m afraid I can’t answer that, sir.”
“Please, throw me a line here.” I put on my most charming voice. “I don’t want to delay her parcel, and the schedule is going out any minute.”
I heard the tapping of a keyboard. “No, sir. Ms Devere won’t be in residence next Thursday.”
“How about Wednesday?”
I heard a sigh, “She checks out on Monday, sir.”
“Thank you, you’ve been very helpful.”
My common sense threatened to bail on me for the second time in one day. It could mean anything. She could simply extend her stay, find somewhere else, be looking to rent a place. I tapped my pen against the desk. It didn’t mean anything. What was I expecting to hear, anyway? Oh yes, sir, she checked in for the next six months, paid upfront, no cancellation option.
I clicked through old files. Photos. Explicit. Faye. A directory I knew better than I should.
I flicked through the images on screen, of us on opening night, drinking champagne with linked arms, her big smile as we took a stint behind the bar, and then later, to drunkenness. Faye sprawled, laughing, across a flogging bench, looking up at me as I brandished a riding crop. But I hadn’t played with her. Never.
Business only.
Until this morning.
My cock was hard, aching for more, just like that. One fuck down and already fucking craving. Her mouth against mine, those dark eyes wanting me. Her bruised tits, so soft under my palms.
I tensed in my seat to feel the pain, the burn of muscle where she’d hit me, and my fingers were at my belt, snaking inside, jerking my prick as I pictured her perky ass in my face. Fuck you, Faye, I’ll fuck an apology out of you. A decent fucking apology.
I closed my eyes, sinking into the fantasy. The fantasy of her at my feet, tear-streaked as she begged to stay, begged for forgiveness, promising to do whatever I asked, without question. I’ll be your slave, Andy, I swear. Use me. Punish me. Make me pay for what I did to you. I deserve it. Please... oh, please, Andy. Please...
Yes. My fingers in her hair, angling her face up to mine. Show me how fucking sorry you are.
I’d hoist her by her wrists, leave her dangling in mid-air, gagged and bound, and nervous. She’d cry as I slapped her pussy, jerking and wriggling like a fish on a fucking line.
Think of him now, Faye. This is for every time he fucked you. Every time you laughed at leaving me behind. Every time you ignored my fucking emails, Faye, you ignorant fucking bitch. Thought you could just walk back in, did you? That Andy fucking Morgan would welcome you home like a wet fucking pussy? No fucking way, Faye, you’ll earn it. You’ll fucking earn it.
My grip tightened around my dick, faster, faster.
I could still smell her on me, still smell the sex. She’d asked for it, she’d fucking asked me.
The sting on my back from the flogger, the pink of her skin... fuck...
“Twice in one day. Jesus, Andy, they got you wrong.” Faye’s smile was smug, bold in the doorway. She breezed in like she owned the place, cool and collected, as if she hadn’t just washed up like trash on a beach.
I shoved my dick away. “You fucking knock from now on, understand? You work the fucking bar. You don’t just walk in here.”
She ignored me, walking around the desk with the same sly smile. “What are you watching? Masque re-runs? Quite a beast, isn’t he? Do you like him? I’d love to see that.”
Frantic fingers closed the directory, just in time. “What do you want? Had enough of real work already?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. I’m enjoying it.”
“Sure you are.”
“I am, actually. Topaz is nice.” She scanned my screen before I could stop her. “Why are you Googling my hotel?”
“No reason.”
“Planning a late night visit?” she smirked. She sat on the edge of my desk, and the flicker of pain across her eyes was captivating.
“Don’t count on it,” I said. “That little thing earlier was most definitely a one-off.”
“That little thing? We had sex, Andy. We fucked. You fucked me.”
“I know what we did, Faye.”
“I enjoyed it.” Her eyes flicked to my crotch. “So did you.”
“I enjoy a lot of things that are hazardous to my wellbeing. Doesn’t mean I’m in the habit of indulging them.”