Dirty Bad Secrets(77)

She dropped them into the toilet without hesitation, without a word, without so much as a sound, and I pressed the flush and sent those seedy little rings right where they belonged. We stood watching the water take them away, her head against my shoulder and my arms around her waist and there were no words needed. No words that would have cut it.

She was deep in thought when I coaxed her back to bed, following meekly with dainty little steps. I pulled back the bedcovers and welcomed her inside, and then I made her come, as promised.

It was slow and tender, my mouth guiding her to orgasm with absolute concentration, absolute care, and when she crested it was beautiful, her fingers against my scalp, kneading but not demanding, her pussy fluttering, wet against my tongue in a way that knocked my senses. She came hard but quietly, a sweet expulsion of moans as her hips rose from the bed, and then she was spent, loose-limbed with ragged breath, her fingers tickling my scalp as I kissed my way down her thigh.

My cock was hard, but I ignored it completely, climbing alongside her and holding her close, my legs hooked around hers, my arm around her waist. She wriggled back against me, and she sighed, wrapping herself so totally in my arms that my face was pressed to her hair, and her breath was hot on my skin.

And then she went to sleep.



But I didn’t.

I didn’t sleep a fucking wink.



***



Faye was quiet the next morning. We both were.

We ate breakfast in silence and headed over to the club earlier than usual. She chewed her nails as we crawled through traffic, and my knuckles were white on the steering wheel, but at least I had an excuse.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she said, but her eyes didn’t leave the road ahead.

“Not really. Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “It’s over. With Vincent, I mean. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“And what about us, Faye? Do you want to talk about that?”

“Not really, Andy, no. Not now.”

“Fine.”

I’d have pushed it if I hadn’t been so preoccupied, but my blood was still boiling, threatening to lash out at anyone that crossed my path. I opened up the club and gathered the mail, and Faye darted about the place doing a cleaning inspection as I took up my seat in the office.

I knew exactly what I was going for as I fired up my laptop.

Vincent cunting Blackthorne’s fucking website.

It was easy enough to find what I was seeking. His website had a tab just for the purpose: Events.

I clicked on it.

Fucking bingo!

The vain cunt had loaded up his schedule to the max, signing after signing in bookshops all around London. Today he was in Leicester Square, signing at one of the major chains from two until four. I had plenty of time. I closed the page as Faye joined me, and she seemed none the wiser. I sorted the banking from the pile of envelopes and handed them over, and she didn’t raise an eyebrow, just got to work as I sifted through the rest.

I processed membership applications, but my attention wasn’t really on them, it was on her.

“What?” she asked, eventually. “It’s not like you to be lost for words.”

“Nothing.” I turned my chair towards her. “Are you alright, Faye? After last night, I mean.” I paused. “And everything.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “It was nice.” Her eyes pierced mine, and they were frostier than I’d have liked. “Don’t think this changes anything, Andy. I still want what I want. One night of cuddles doesn’t mean I’m your lapdog.”

“Did I even suggest it fucking did?”

“No,” she said. “But I know you. You can’t help yourself.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” She lightened her words with a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s only reaffirmed what I already knew.”

“Which is?”

“I want equality. I’m not going to settle for anything less. Not again. Not ever.”

I sighed. “Fine, Faye. Whatever you say. We’ll talk about it when we get home.”

Home? Did I just say that?

“Yes, we will.”

Her smile told me she’d noticed, too.



I waited until Topaz was in before I made my exit. Faye was helping her out with preparations for the big birthday celebration and I strode through the bar with as little fanfare as possible. I nearly made it to the door before I was collared.

“Going out?” Faye asked, like it wasn’t fucking obvious.

“I’m meeting a supplier, negotiating next quarter’s prices.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you think I should be involved?”

I didn’t have time for her bloody outrage, so I shifted to cunt mode, easily and effortlessly. “Organise it for your week, Faye, if you want to play the big I am. This is my week, remember?”