“Erotic asphyxiation is a topic best left for another day.” I pause, listening to the sound of running water from my guest bathroom. It feels like a violation of my life that a client is here, in my house, using my sink, my toilet, touching my soap and my hand towels. I keep my professional life separate from my personal life. I somehow get the feeling that my house is tainted with my darkness now. With Audra's darkness. My frown deepens. “Where are you?”
“At a party,” Clarice says which is ridiculously unhelpful. “At Don and Denise Morton's place. There's a … a thing. But, um, my husband is busy with Don and Denise up in their room right now, so you know, I'm free … ”
“I need a favor from you, Clarice,” I tell her, interrupting the woman before I can change my mind about what I'm going to offer. I almost feel as if I'm selling out. It doesn't make much sense, but it's true. Clarice is my client, yes, and I've had sex with her before, but it was within my own parameters, by my own choice. This feels forced, like I honestly and truly have no choice. For the first time in my life, I really do feel like a whore. And all because of a woman named Audra Holiday, a woman who blacks out and wakes up with blood on her hands, a woman that makes me feel like a shadow against her darkness. “I want the staff at your place sent home for the night, the security cameras turned off.” Clarice starts to talk, but I cut her off. “I want the combination to the gate, and I want you to keep yourself and Mr. Braxton gone until I say otherwise.” I can already feel Clarice nodding against the phone, so eager that I get sick to my stomach. I don't think she has any clue what I'm up to, nor should she. I assume she's going to believe this is some sort of trick of mine.
I suppose it'll have to be.
“You do that,” I continue, lowering my voice, reaching up to the top button of my shirt and flicking it open, “and I may very well be waiting for you when you get home.” I push my fingers under the crisp white fabric, feeling my own skin, letting the sensual brush of my hand over my nipple turn my words to fire. “And even though you royally pissed me off yesterday, I'll only charge my usual fee.”
“Yes, Lucas,” Clarice whispers as my head snaps up, gaze drawn to the bathroom door and the slowly turning handle. “Whatever you want.” As Clarice rattles off the security code for the front gate, Audra steps from the bathroom, her hair slightly less tangled, her makeup touched up, and that splotch of blood by her temple conspicuously absent. The sight of her sets me aflame again and soon my hand isn't just satisfied with touching my nipples. I unbutton the rest of the shirt while Audra freezes, like an animal caught in the headlights. Her green eyes follow my fingers almost defiantly, pupils dilating in response to the motion. I can't help myself; I get downright fucking cheeky.
“One last thing, Clarice,” I say before I hang up. Her breath flutters into the line, heavy with sexual desire and desperation. She wants me so badly, I can practically feel it. The whole thing makes me sick to my stomach. I don't necessarily care if my clients like the sex, if they find me attractive, but it should be the darkness that comes first. Sometimes I wonder if Clarice's is so minimal that she doesn't even notice it anymore. It may very well be time to cut her off. After tonight, of course. “Say cunt. I want to hear it from your lips, right now. Make it bold,” I whisper, finishing with the last button and opening up my pants. I slide my cock free and grip it tight, enjoying the way Audra stumbles towards me, like a zombie drawn to raw flesh. Careful, your darkness is showing. “Make it loud,” I breathe as Audra tucks her red hair behind her ears and drops to her knees in front of me. Just like that. We haven't discussed price yet, but that's okay. I'll let her suck my dick for free.
“Carter,” Clarice whines, and I swear on all that is unholy and wrong in this world that I almost fucking lose it. My mind is now officially made up. After tonight, Clarice is gone. Done. I think it's time for her to move on anyway. Our encounters are getting dangerously close to kink, and I don't do kink.
Instead of getting angry, I keep my focus on Audra's head, her red hair that gleams like blood under the dim lighting from beside the fireplace. I kept all the main lights off to keep attention away from my house and make sure that nobody gets it into their heads that I'm awake or even home to answer the door. You mean so Robbie stays away? The thought swirls like a brilliant streak of color in my head before I clamp down on it and toss it away. Instead I focus on Audra's freshly rouged lips as they part around the head of my cock.
Her hot breath teases my bare skin, drawing a quick breath from my throat. It's as close to a moan of pleasure as Clarice has ever heard from me. Right away, her demeanor changes, and she melts into the phone like she's made of clay. Moldable. Shapeable. The most malleable of substances.