by Renee Rose
When he had spent, he eased out, withdrawing his fingers and gently stroking over her wet pussy. He covered her body with his, wrapping his free arm around her torso and kissing her neck.
“Don’t move, baby,” he said, and got up to wash up in the bathroom. He returned with a wet washcloth, which he used to clean her before pulling up her panties and smoothing down her skirt. “Come here,” he said, lifting her torso and turning her to face him. She fell into his arms and he could sense her trembling. He kissed the top of her head and held for a moment, then scooped her into his arms and carried her to the sofa, where he sat with her cradled in his lap. He grabbed the soft throw blanket from the back of the sofa and wrapped her in it.
“You did so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”
She didn’t answer, just lay glued to him, her face in his neck.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded against his shoulder.
“Did you get off?”
She lifted her head. “Yes. Well, I feel like I did. Except I sort of skipped the part where my muscles tighten up. I was afraid it would hurt to clench my... um... anus,” she admitted with a half-giggle.
He laughed. “Maybe it would have.”
“But you more than satisfied me.”
He grinned. “Good.”
She looked into his eyes. “You really thought I was a snitch there for a minute, didn’t you?”
He shook his head, not wanting to go down this road with her. “Your behavior surprised me until you explained it.”
“But you thought I was an informer, didn’t you?” she pressed. “I saw the look on your face.”
He studied her, amused. “I just couldn’t understand why you would snoop, that’s all.”
“What would you have done if I didn’t explain?”
“Lex,” he admonished. “Let’s not go there. I trust you. You made a simple mistake. I punished you to help you remember these things are important to me. I will buy you a new phone case so you don’t get confused again.”
She continued to observe him without speaking.
“I’m sorry if I scared you.”
She shivered and snuggled against him. “You did. Just for a minute, though.”
Chapter Eight
“Have you ever taught anyone else how to cut or color hair?” the interview panelist asked her, tapping his pen against his teeth.
She had expected this question and had prepared a dance around it. “I consider myself a mentor to all the other stylists at the salon where I cut. They are always calling me over for a consult and I’m the one who they trust to cut and color their own hair.”
One of the panelists smiled at her. “Who cuts and colors your hair?”
“I do,” she admitted.
“You don’t trust anyone else?”
“Well, not really. Not to do it the way I want it.”
The woman smiled and jotted something down, but she had a feeling she had just scored a point.
“All right, Lexi, now we’re going to put your slides up on the big screen, and I’d like you to stand up and explain how you achieved each of these looks, and why you chose this design for the client.”
She drew in a shaky breath and stood. The photo of Gina appeared on the large screen at the front of the room. She walked over. “I chose this look for Gina because of her high cheekbones. I wanted something to highlight, rather than hide them. The jaw-length layers frame her face and the bold color gives it a bit of spunk, which fits Gina’s personality.”
She turned to look at the panelists, who appeared attentive, if not encouraging. “To achieve this look, I cut the baseline into a diagonal forward and tapered the nape with some graduation. Then I cut some textured, round layers in and over directed the front to the back layers. For color, I colored the nape area darker and paneled some light and dark color pieces in the front to accentuate the diagonal forward haircut.”
She continued through the rest of the slides, gaining confidence as the panelists asked questions she could answer.
“Thank you, Lexi, that will be all for today. If you make it to the next round of interviews, we will ask you to pick one of these looks and teach a sample class to hair stylists. You should hear from us by the end of the week, either way.”
“Thank you,” she said, shaking hands with each of the panelists before she exited.
When she reached the sidewalk outside, she pulled out her phone. The number she pulled up first belonged to Bobby.
When had he and Gina traded importance in her life?
She shook her head. If she didn’t watch out, she would get in too deep with him. He said he would do anything for her; at least, that was how he felt after spanking her. It seemed she shared the sentiment. When he turned stern on her, she would do anything to please him. Things she never dreamed she would let a man do to her. Or want a man to do to her.
But she did want it. Every pain he inflicted, every punishment, every act of dominance only strengthened her desire for him.
His phone rang and he picked it up. “How’d it go?” he said without saying hello.
Her heart skipped a beat. He remembered. Gina would have needed reminding.
“Great! At least I think. It’s hard to tell, because they just sit and stare at you and make notes on their notepads. But I did as well as I could have.”
“Congratulations! Are you headed home? Why don’t I pick you up there in an hour and we’ll go out to dinner to celebrate?”
“Sounds great, thanks!”
She took the El home and opened the door.
She stopped short when she saw someone inside. It was cleaning day, but they should have been gone by now.
“Oh, great, you’re home!”
She stared in shock as Stacy, Bobby’s ex-girlfriend, walked toward her with a smile, carrying a half-full glass of wine. She wore a tight leather mini-skirt and even smaller top, her breasts practically spilling out of her push-up bra.
“Wh-what are you doing here?”
“Bobby asked me to come. He didn’t tell you?”
“Uh, no,” she said, inanely pulling her phone out to double check for a text.
Stacy lowered her lashes and gave her a seductive look. “Yeah, he said he wanted to try a threesome with the two of us. Maybe he wanted it to be a surprise.”
She continued to stare blankly at her cell phone, as if it would somehow decode the situation. Had that been why he arranged to meet her here so early? Not to take her to dinner, but for a threesome?
Her stomach clenched. She had no interest in a threesome. Especially not with Stacy, whose cheap floozy look and pushy personality turned her off. Maybe if Bobby were here she would feel differently. He had pushed her sexually in other ways and she had enjoyed it. But God, he should’ve talked to her about it first! And to say they were celebrating her interview and then pulling this surprise instead didn’t sit well with her.
“Mind if I put on some music?” Stacy asked.
“Um... sure. Go ahead.”
“I opened a bottle of wine,” Stacy called over her shoulder. “Bobby said we should get the party started before he gets here. Did he say what time he’s coming?”
She swallowed, trying to push down the growing sense of violation she felt. “He should be here soon,” she said weakly.
Stacy put on some dance music and cranked the volume. She danced back, pulling off her top to reveal her breasts stuffed in a bra at least two sizes too small.
“Go get some wine!” Stacy called out over the music.
She walked to the kitchen, annoyed when she saw the state of it. Stacy had obviously struggled with the cork, which lay in pieces all over the counter. She had spilled wine while pouring it, and hadn’t bothered to wipe it up. Pieces of cork floated on the top of the wine, so when she poured herself a glass, she had to fish them out.
She took a sip and headed back into the living room.
Stacy danced over to her, insinuating her body against hers in a gyra
tion to the music. “Come on! Bobby said we should get started without him! Imagine how hot it will be for him to find us making out when he gets here!” She put her hands on the two sides of Lexi’s face and came in close for a kiss.
She worked hard to keep from pulling away. She didn’t want to offend Stacy, but she also had no interest in this threesome, especially not without Bobby here.
The door opened as Stacy pulled her lips away and Bobby came in, his brows drawing together. He smiled, but looked confused.
* * * * *
“What’s going on here?”
Lexi took a step back from Stacy, giving him the only information he needed: Stacy was up to her tricks.
“I came for that threesome we always talked about,” she trilled.
Lexi took another step back. “She said you arranged it,” she said accusingly.
He closed his eyes trying to draw the patience necessary for handling this without losing his temper. He walked over to the stereo and turned off the music. “Get out,” he said, jerking his head toward the door.
“Bob-bee!” Stacy protested. “She’s into it. We were having a great time. Come and join in!”
Lexi shot him a look, and gave a little shake of her head.
“Lexi and I have plans tonight, and they don’t include you. Go on, get out.”
Stacy dropped her act, anger flashing across her overly-made-up face.
“How did you get in, anyway?” Lexi asked, her eyes narrowed.
Stacy grinned triumphantly. “Cleaning day. The maids still remembered me.”
He swore softly, making a mental note to call the cleaning company. Part of him wanted to turn savage on the stupid girl, but he had some sympathy for her. He tried to show respect to every girl he’d dated, no matter how annoying they became. Besides, he didn’t want to scare Lexi.
“Stacy,” he said, working to keep his tone calm. “We had a nice time, you and me. But now it’s over. I am never going to pick things up with you again. It’s time for you to move on and find someone else.”
He walked over and took her arm to escort her toward the door. She darted around behind the sofa with a squeal of delight. “Ooh, I’m misbehaving!” she called out. “You’d better spank me!”
He stopped, resting his hands on his hips and glaring at her. Chasing and spanking her was the last thing he was going to do. He didn’t want to manhandle her at all, but he wasn’t sure how else to get her out of the apartment.
“Stacy,” he said, using the tone he reserved for Family-related threats. “I’m a real son-of-a-bitch when I’m mad. You don’t want to cross me.”
She got the message, because she faltered, the smile dropping away, replaced by anger again. “Oh yeah? What are you going to do? Shoot me? Beat me?” She turned to Lexi. “He likes to hurt women, you know.”
Lexi lifted her chin and opened her mouth as if to defend him but he gave her a quick shake of his head. He doubted anything she said would help diffuse the situation, and he desperately wanted to get rid of Stacy without freaking Lexi out.
“Out,” he said with icy authority. “I don’t want to see you again. Not here, not at Plush, not anywhere. If I do, I’m going to send my boys over to take back every gift I ever gave you, plus interest, understand?”
She paled and he knew he’d found the best leverage on her: greed.
She looked over at Lexi again. “He’ll get tired of you. Just like he got tired of me. Don’t get too comfortable in this fancy apartment, because it won’t last!”
Lexi’s eyes had rounded and she looked sick.
He cursed silently. “Out. Now.”
Stacy threw her wine glass to the floor, smashing it into tiny shards before she toddled to the door, looking drunk. “Fuck you!” she spat, flipping him off.
He kept his face blank, watching coolly until she had walked out and slammed the door.
Lexi stared at the door.
He walked toward her, but didn’t dare pull her into his arms, not sure where he stood with her. “I’m so sorry.”
The hurt in her eyes twisted his heart.
He spread his hands. “Lexi... I don’t even know what to say. That sucked. I’m embarrassed you were subjected to that scene. I hope you don’t believe anything she said.”
Lexi blinked, recovering. “No, of course not,” she said, but he thought he could see some part of her had shut down.
He opened his arms. “Come here, baby.”
When she stepped into them, he released a breath he hadn’t realized he held.
She didn’t remain long, though, pulling away and bending down to pick up the broken glass.
“Leave it,” he said. “I’ll get a broom.”
“Some wine spilled on the rug,” Lexi said, sounding angry.
“It will come out,” he reassured her. “If it doesn’t, I’ll replace it, okay, babe? I don’t want you to worry about it. This was supposed to be your special night.”
He returned with the broom to find Lexi still crouched over the mess, picking up shards. “Ouch!” she cried, putting her finger to her mouth to suck.
He pulled her to stand and examined her cut finger, pulling out a tiny sliver of glass.
“You sit here,” he said, pushing her into an armchair. “Don’t move.”
He found an adhesive bandage in the bathroom and returned, applying it to her finger as if she were a small child who couldn’t do it herself. Picking up the broom, he swept up the glass and dumped it in the trash, returning with a rag to wipe up the spilt wine.
Lexi moved to stand, but he pointed to her. “I said don’t move,” he warned.
She rolled her eyes, but smiled.
He found a spray cleaner under the sink and returned, scrubbing the stain on the rug. It didn’t come out, but he moved the coffee table leg over by a few inches and it covered it.
“I’ll buy a new rug, okay?”
She laughed. “It’s not my rug.”
“Yeah, but you’re the one who has to live with it. And I don’t want you thinking about what happened. Can you do me a favor and just erase it forever from your mind?”
She laughed. “I’ll try,” she said, but something told him she still hadn’t recovered.
* * * * *
He’ll get tired of you. Just like he got tired of me.
Try as she might, she could not get Stacy’s words out of her mind. Bobby had been incredible, treating her to a fancy dinner and doting on her. He’d known she’d been disturbed by it all.
The week crawled by as she waited for the call about the interview. The only bright spot was that for the first time in a long time, her earnings belonged to her. Well, not really, because she still had the thirty thousand in medical bills to pay off, but she had no financial emergency. She would make enough to pay the rent at the salon, put some toward the medical bills, and still be able to buy herself an espresso before work or lunch at the deli.
Bobby said he was tied up and she just found out she made the next round of interviews, so she stopped by Plush after work on Friday to celebrate, praying Stacy wouldn’t be there. Unfortunately, she spotted the blonde sitting at the bar when she walked in. She hesitated in the doorway. Maybe she should just go home. She could always call Gina.
But then she straightened her shoulders. Screw that. She’d been coming to this club for years and she wasn’t going to be scared off by some psycho ex-girlfriend. She marched over to the end of the bar and waited for Gina to see her. The Friday happy hour crowd packed the place, the young professionals looking smart in their suits. She caught sight of a tall, broad-shouldered man and her heart stopped for a moment, thinking it was Bobby. But that was stupid. He had a wife at home and a girlfriend in his apartment. Why would he be out trolling for someone else?
“Hey, girl! How’d the interview go?” Gina said, slapping a cocktail napkin down in front of her. “What are you drinking?”
“Cosmopolitan. It went well! I just found out I made the next round.”
&
nbsp; Gina filled a martini glass with ice to chill while she filled her stainless steel mixing container with Smirnoff vodka, triple sec, cranberry juice and ice. “Fantastic!” she said, giving it a good shake before pouring the liquid through the strainer into the chilled glass.
“Now I give a sample class and teach a group of stylists how to do a hairstyle.”
“Nice.”
“So did Bobby’s ex-girlfriend say anything to you? About me? Or Bobby?”
“No, why?” Gina asked, leaning forward with interest.
She filled her friend in on the drama that went down that week.
“Holy shit,” Gina said. “Well, she’s here tonight. If she gives you any trouble, let me know and I’ll have the bouncers throw her out.”
She grinned. “Thanks. You know, I have to say, part of me wanted him to go totally mafia on her ass.” She laughed. “You know, like tell her if she showed up again, she would be swimming with the fishes in Lake Michigan? But I actually respected how he handled it. He didn’t lay a hand on her. It’s just nice to know, in case I’m ever in her shoes.”
Gina snorted. “In case you turn into stalker girl?”
She laughed. “No. But I’ve been a little afraid of him. Because of the mafia thing. He’s always been a gentleman, but I guess I had this worry in the back of my mind that I’d better not seriously piss him off, or I’d be in actual, mortal danger.”
“Well,” Gina mused. “You’d probably have to do something really terrible for that to happen. Like wear a wire or steal enormous sums of money from him. And you’d never do something like that.”
“Right,” she said, looking across the bar to where Stacy sat. “Oh shit, she sees me.”
“I’m staying right here with you,” Gina said.
Stacy slid off her bar stool and made her way over. “Hi,” she said, flipping her hair back over her shoulder.
Lexi assessed her coolly. “I did not appreciate your little stunt this week. I have nothing to say to you.”
“Where’s your loverboy? Out looking for fresh meat?”
Gina straightened up and motioned to one of the bouncers, who walked over, looking aggressive. When he arrived, she said, “I need you to go back to your seat over there, or Eric will be throwing you out, and you will be eighty-sixed from this establishment.”