Dirty Bad Secrets(7)

Don’t you fucking dare.

Her eyes were glassy, wet with tears. She was lost in the moment, beyond fucking reason. “Please, Sir. Please, fuck me.”

No.

“Fuck me... hard… make it hurt, Sir... show them how much I can hurt for you…”

I sprang into life, long paces across the bar without giving a fuck for obscurity. I reached the edge of the crowd in time for a prime fucking view as his fat cock jammed its way inside her. Fuck. White heat pounded behind my eyes, and I was reeling. Too late. Too fucking late.

Irrational anger. At her, at him, at the whole fucking place.

I backed away, disentangling myself from the surroundings. Only Masque looked in my direction. A nod of the head in knowing, an understanding even through the hollows of his mask. I gave him a nod in response, and then I was gone.



***





Chapter Three




Faye



I came down hard, emotions hitting the deck like a fucking lead balloon. Too many drinks, too much bravado, and a seedy fucking meathead called Sergeant fucking Sin. Hardly the Faye’s-back-in-town show I’d dreamt of.

I could still feel him inside me. The sensation churned around my stomach, threatening to rise up and spill garnet-orgasm-screaming-crow all over the dance floor. Sergeant grinned oblivious, shoving his cock back in his jeans and signalling for my phone number. I gathered my dress from the floor, holding it tight to my savaged tits as I made my exit.

I couldn’t face the toilets, too many people. Instead, I dashed out past the playrooms, frantic for somewhere to hole up and compose myself. There were only lockers, lockers and the door to Andy’s office. The window above the door promised darkness inside. He wasn’t in. I took the opportunity and tried the door. It was open, thank fuck. I pressed myself against the wall, catching my breath as my heart slowed.

What am I doing here? What the fuck am I doing?

My eyes welled, emotions still cresting the disaster. I’d wanted to make a statement, show the place I was back in town. I’d shown them something, alright. I’d shown them a fucking train wreck.

It was supposed to be Andy up there with me. I’d thought about it all the way home. If not Andy, then Masque, but time hadn’t been kind there, either.

The click of a lamp, and the glare hurt my eyes.

Shit. Embarrassment flamed, Andy’s disapproving stare battering me across the room. Just what I fucking needed.

He was just as immaculate as he’d been earlier, not even so much as a crumple on his suit. His hair still fell with effortless style, like he’d stepped out of the fashion section of the Business Times.

“What the fuck are you doing sitting in the dark?” I hissed. “Is this some kind of psychological entrapment?”

“I’m in my office, and just as well I am. The club needs one responsible owner on the premises. And that clearly isn’t you. What the fuck was that out there?”

“I’m getting myself in the spotlight, where it matters. Something you’ve fucking forgotten! Explicit isn’t just red tape and insurance forms, Andy, it’s alive, it has soul. Beautiful dark soul. It needs more than crossed fucking T’s.”

“I really don’t know where Sergeant dumb-fuck Sin falls under the job description. You must be so proud of yourself. Were all your shows as highbrow as that one?”

“Fuck you, Andy. Just fuck you.” I pulled my dress over my head, tugging it down as quickly as I could manage. “Masque wouldn’t play, and neither would you.”

“I never play in public.”

“Or at all, from what I’ve heard.” I tossed him a smile full of spite. “I’ve heard all about it. When was the last time you even got laid? It wasn’t here, was it? Too good to get your rocks off in your own club these days, is that it? Don’t you dare judge me, Andy, don’t you fucking dare.”

“Mind your fucking tongue. You know fuck all about this place, or about me.” He stood from his chair, jabbed an angry finger in my direction. “If you work at a bakery every day of your fucking life, the last thing you want to fucking eat when you get home is a jam fucking doughnut.”

I shook my head. “Keep telling yourself that. It’s completely different.”

“Is it? Like you’d fucking know.”

I took a step towards him. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past three years? Shacked up in some twee little nunnery somewhere? I’ve been working the scene, same as you. Only I didn’t turn my back on my own fucking sexuality. I embraced it... I learned from it...”

“Felt nice to have his dirty fucking mouth all over your tits, did it? You’re supposed to be senior management, not a cheap little slut off the street. You’d better start acting like it.”