by Alicia Ryan
Herman couldn’t say why the question felt weighty, but it did. He laughed at himself, reading metaphysical import into the queries of whores. He then felt guilty for using the word. The two lovely women with whom he now stood deserved better than that.
“Yes,” he said.
“Good,” Lydia said, smiling at him again. “Now Candi will give you the quick tour, and I’ll see you upstairs shortly.” She stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek and Herman was left breathless by the jolt of desire that shot through him. He turned his lips toward her without thinking, but she was already backing away, and she went up the staircase he’d barely noticed off to his left.
“Come on,” Candi said, grinning at him and gripping his hand. “You need to loosen up, Herman.”
She pulled him into the next room through the door she and April had used, and he was surprised to see a formal dining space. She led him around the large table to the other side of the room where a mahogany bar took up most of one corner. She took two clinking glasses out of a cabinet.
“What’s your poison, Herman?” she asked.
He didn’t think he was supposed to say beer, so he went with the ever-lame, “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”
Candi reached under the bar and brought up a bottle of amber liquid. She poured some into each glass, dropped in two ice cubes and then popped the top on a can of diet Coke and gave each a splash. “Jack and Coke, coming up,” she beamed, handing him the glass.
He took a huge swallow, letting it burn his throat and nose. He didn’t usually drink hard liquor, but he didn’t mind the taste of whiskey, and he suddenly felt like he needed to take Candi’s advice. He was supposed to do as he was told, after all. If this little tour was going to culminate in Lydia’s room, with both Lydia and Candi…he took another huge gulp. He wasn’t going to turn down some liquid fortification. Quite the contrary.
After finishing their second drink, Candi showed him the rest of the first floor, which was just an office, a kitchen, and a walled garden out back. Then she took him downstairs, skipping several closed doors, but walking him into the room at the end of the hall.
“Ta da,” she laughed, “this is the dungeon.”
Herman couldn’t contain his surprise. The room was empty, thank god, but the stone walls were lined with hooks about four feet apart, just where a person’s feet and hands would be if they were spread-eagle against it. Some of the hooks had strips of cloth still tied to them.
He turned to his right, wanting to get out, but the table there caught his eye. On it were all the things he could imagine using in a room like this – and then some. There were real whips and chains and handcuffs and…well, he didn’t know for sure what some of the things were.
“Don’t worry,” Candi whispered in his ear. “You won’t be using this room.” She grabbed his hand again as she pulled back. Then her impish grin reappeared. “But I figured I might as well show it to you so you’d know we were full-service – just in case!” She laughed and wiggled her brows at him. “It is always the quiet ones, you know.”
Herman closed his eyes and put up his hand. He heard Candi laugh again.
“Too much information, huh? Sorry. I get carried away sometimes.” She pulled him out into the hallway, and they started back up the stairs. “It’s just so much fun seeing what makes people tick, you know.”
She stopped and looked back at him, tilting her head slightly as if she were listening to something in another room. “I still can’t believe you’re the real deal, Herman, but you seem legit, so let’s go find Mistress Lydia, shall we?”
She waited for him to agree, and Herman nodded his head vigorously. Too vigorously, he knew. It was the Jack talking. He wasn’t really that eager to get upstairs. He blocked out Candi’s tinkling but knowing laughter and followed her up to the third floor.
Inside Lydia’s room, Herman stood with his back against the door, holding his breath. Well, not holding it really, he just couldn’t seem to get his lungs to work. In front of him was the biggest bed he had ever seen, and it was trimmed all in white and covered in satin and lace and pillows of all sizes. At the foot of the bed was an off-white antique sofa in the same style as some of the more ornate ones downstairs. It sat low to the floor, its back rising just above the top of the mattress.
But what had his chest so impossibly constricted was that at the other end of the room there was a freestanding tub on a marble dais and in it, surrounded by a cloud of bubbles, was Lydia. Her mane of hair was pinned up on top of her head, and she looked at him with those incredibly dark eyes and a smile that was a little different from the ones she’d given him earlier. This one made her appear to be looking forward to something. Him? he wondered. No, way, he thought. But, boy is she good at her job. I almost fell for it.
“Have a seat, Herman,” she said, indicating the sofa. “Candi?”
Candi crossed over to the tub and sat on its marble ledge. “Are you ready to dry off, Mistress?” she asked softly.
Herman wondered where the laughing, teasing Candi had gone. He lowered himself onto the small sofa and watched as Candi grabbed a couple of things from the ledge and then went to stand behind the tub.
Slowly, Lydia moved onto her knees. She faced Herman, with her back to Candi, and Candi began to slowly drizzle water over Lydia’s body with a sponge. Again, Herman felt his chest constrict as the soap bubbles slid down Lydia’s shoulders, then her breasts as Candi brought the sponge in front.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he looked back Lydia had done the same. He relished being able to watch her knowing she couldn’t see his reactions. She stood slowly to let Candi finish removing the soap, and Herman slid down on the sofa, easing the tightening in his pants.
He’d known she’d be beautiful, but as she stood there with little tendrils of her hair slipping out to frame her face and the last of the soap bubbles sliding down her shimmering body, Herman had to grip the edge of the sofa to keep from getting up. He had no idea of what he’d do if he was near her, but her beauty pulled at him. He wanted to be closer. Hell, any part of him that could was already trying.
She took Candi’s hand and stepped out of the tub and down the marble steps. Herman ground his teeth and tried to breathe normally. At the bottom of the steps, Candi waited with a towel.
She slowly, but deftly, dried Lydia’s arms and legs, then her back and the smooth expanse between her breasts and her rounded hips.
Herman’s grip on the couch tightened.
Finally, Candi dropped the towel over the edge of the tub and pulled a long, sheer, white robe from a hook on the wall. She draped it over Lydia’s shoulders and came around in front to fasten a single button so that the thin fabric made a v-shape down over Lydia’s breasts. It fastened at a point just above her navel, but then fell open again in another tantalizing v-shape that left nothing to the imagination.
And then they kissed.
Herman thought for a moment his heart had stopped.
Candi had her hands wrapped in the thin fabric of the neckline of Lydia’s robe, and was kissing her and pulling her close.
God, he wanted to do that!
Then again, as Lydia’s eyes closed and her hands snaked into Candi’s silky hair, he realized maybe just watching had its advantages.
No sooner had he gotten used to the idea than it was over. Candi pulled away from Lydia and crossed the room to where he sat, frozen, watching them.
“Would you like to taste her on me, Herman?” she asked softly.
Herman could only nod, but Candi flashed him a wicked grin and leaned forward to put her lips to his.
She first teased him with soft, butterfly kisses, but he needed more and leaned in to get it. She met him and took his tongue into her mouth as he ran his hands through her hair the way Lydia had done.
Soft, was the first thing that crossed his mind. Her lips and her hair were so soft. And she tasted like Jack Daniels. That made him smile, and he pulled back.
Lydia’s eyes were alight again. Herman couldn’t look away from them; they seemed to burn with some inner fire he knew he would probably never understand.
“Thank you, Candi,” she whispered, looking at Herman.
Candi gave a little nod and left the room.
Lydia began to move toward him, and Herman realized a new appreciation for the bathrobe. The thin material, though it covered her breasts, didn’t camouflage them. He could see their outline and her erect nipples through the fabric. Lower, loose folds swayed in time with her hips, drawing his eyes to the small patch of still damp hair at the apex of her thighs.
She moved closer and Herman tore his gaze upward, meeting her eyes. He was surprised to see a flicker of hesitation there. She stopped just a foot short of the edge of the sofa.
“Take off your shirt, Herman.”
Beyond caring, Herman moved quickly to do as she asked. He unbuttoned the blue oxford shirt and lifted his hips slightly to pull it free of his pants. When it was off, he threw it onto the couch.
He looked back up at Lydia. He didn’t dare look straight ahead. Not at the warm, wet skin at the top of her thighs.
But looking at her eyes was just as bad. She was looking at him. Not at his face, but at his body. And she seemed to like what she saw. The light in her eyes grew even more intense.
Then she moved over him, and Herman again thought he was in danger of cardiac arrest. One minute she was standing in front of him, looking at him in a way he’d only ever dreamed a beautiful woman would look at him, and the next minute he had a lap full of a mostly naked Lydia.
He felt his chest rising and falling rapidly, but he didn’t seem to be getting any air.
His brain couldn’t process what he should do next. The smooth skin of her neck cried out to be touched; her breasts were so close – and he’d only gotten a glimpse of them before; he could feel the warmth of her naked thighs where they clamped around his own.
Just breathe, he told himself. She isn’t going anywhere.
And she didn’t. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then Herman moved his hands from where they were clenched nervously in the fabric of his trousers up along the smooth skin of her outer thighs and onto the soft curve of her hips.
He rested them there, feeling the way she fit into his grasp, moving his thumbs and fingers just slightly because he couldn’t quite seem to stop them.
Lydia put her arms around his neck and ran her fingers into his hair.
Herman groaned, tightened his grip on her hips and turned his face up to meet hers.
But it never did. She pulled one of her hands free and placed her index finger against his lips.
He kissed it, and saw that light in her eyes flare before she blinked and gave him one of the warm smiles she’d given him earlier that afternoon.
“And so ends your first lesson, Herman,” she said quietly.
He couldn’t keep the look of confusion and utter disappointment off his face.
“One of the most important things you will learn, you have learned tonight,” she continued.
Herman shook his head, still not releasing his grasp on her delicious body.
“Yes, you have. You’ve learned about anticipation. That anticipation is half the fun, and a good lover knows how to create it and stoke it for their partner.”
It took longer to sink in than it should have, but Herman consoled himself no man would be at 100% with two drinks in him and a woman like Lydia naked on his lap. It was almost too much to bear, but he did finally understand.
He let go of her and moved his hands to rest on the sofa cushion.
Lydia stood up, and Herman forced himself not to whimper at the loss of all that heat and beauty.
She crossed the room and took a second wrap from off a peg near the tub. This one was of the same delicate white material, but it covered her completely.
Herman appreciated that. It was easier to think when she was clothed.
“I made you a promise earlier,” she was saying. “That you would never leave wanting.” She looked at him. “Candi or one of the other girls will service you orally before you go, if you wish.”
So soft. For a moment, he couldn’t stop himself from imagining Candi’s soft lips and hair around his now throbbing erection.
He shook his head to clear it, knowing that was the wrong answer.
Anticipation was the lesson. Anticipation it would be.
“No,” he said finally. “I’ll wait.”
Lydia smiled, walked over to him and put her hand on his cheek. He leaned into her touch.
“You’re a fast learner,” she whispered, “and I’ll see you tomorrow at the party.”
Chapter Five
Friday morning, a woman half-stumbled out of Price’s room as Herman was having a cup of coffee. Blonde, bouncy, beautiful, and wearing a figure-fitting red linen dress, she momentarily stunned Herman – both with her beauty and her sudden appearance in their apartment.
“Uh, hi,” he said. “I’m Herman, Price’s roommate.”
“Hi,” she replied, adjusting the fit on her dress, drawing Herman’s eyes to her ample cleavage. “I’m Tricia. Price was telling me about you. I met him last night at a bar while he was waiting for you to finish some appointment, right? I never did get clear on what exactly.”
“That’s right.” He was relieved to not feel a blush coming on – other than the flush that had first overtaken him when she’d come around the corner. “So you’re from Strawberry?”
“Well, not exactly, but it sounds like we’re going to be colleagues for a while. I’m going to be temping over at Office Supply HQ for a bit. Don’t suppose you could give me a ride?”
Herman put his coffee cup down, fairly sure she’d said ‘temping’ and not ‘tempting’. “It’d be my pleasure.”
He held the door for her and led her to the car – now a late-model BMW sedan. Not too flashy, but something more appropriate for driving around a Marilyn Monroe look-alike.
He was surprised he was able to pull it off, his concentration not really being on the car for the entire trip. Tricia made conversation about temping and different bosses she’d worked for. Herman mostly admired the view, for she was truly stunning. And she did remind him of Marilyn Monroe – she had the same white-blonde hair, the same big…smile. And she seemed so open, so approachable – the way she talked with ease and gestured at every turn.
“So, do you know Mr. Phipps?” she asked, finally forcing Herman to participate in the conversation.
“Uh, not really. I’ve met him, of course. Is that who you’re going to be working for?”
“Of course. Didn’t I just say that, silly?”
“Oh, right. Sorry. I was probably focused on the road. Lucian Phipps may be a…challenging…man to work for.”
“Challenging as in he’s a hard worker or challenging as in he’s an asshole?”
Herman glanced over at her. “More the latter, I’m afraid.”
“That’s okay,” she said, still smiling. “I’m an expert at dealing with men like that.”
“Oh yeah? Maybe you could give the rest of us a few pointers.”
She laughed. “I’m not sure my system would work for everyone. A lot of it is in the walk, you see.”
Herman raised his brows. “I see.”
“Don’t be like that. It’s hard to be an attractive woman working directly for powerful men. You have to use what you’ve got to keep the upper hand – or at least a level playing field.”
“I wish you good luck,” he said as they pulled into the Office Supply HQ parking lot. “Though I hope you don’t need it.”
He opened the door for her, and she patted him on the arm. “Thanks Herman. You’re a nice man.”
He escorted her as far as the lobby elevator, where they parted company, and he took the stairs down to the basement.
As usual,
Ernie and Oscar were already at their posts. He noticed they’d added another pin-up to their growing collection. Herman had never watched much tv, so he had no idea who she was. He did know she couldn’t hold a candle to the girl he’d just left.
He smiled briefly as he took the cart from Ernie, noting that he’d met more beautiful women in the last three days than he had in the last five years he’d been alive. Maybe this whole dead thing wasn’t going to be so bad.
“Don’t just stand there, slack-jaw,” Oscar chided. “You’ve got rounds. Get moving.”
Herman dutifully left the mailroom to begin his shift, still smiling at his good fortune. By the time he reached the fourth floor, Tricia had obviously made an impression, though she was nowhere to be seen.
“Lucky bastard,” floated up from a few cubicles as Herman passed. “About time we got some eye candy up here,” he caught from another.
“Hi, Mike,” he said when he popped into Mike Orzio’s open office to deliver a few letters. “What’s got everyone so wound up?”
Mike shook his head. “You won’t believe it, but some temp agency accidentally sent Lucian an executive assistant.”
“You mean he didn’t send for one?”
“No, but, given her qualifications,” he said, moving his hands to shape the outline of an hourglass, “Lucian has decided to keep her on for a while. He kicked Dan Kaminski out of his cube so she could sit right in front of his office.” He shook his head. “Lucky bastard.”
“That’s great,” he said. “She seems like a nice girl.”
“You know her?”
“Not really. She was standing in my living room when I got up this morning so I gave her a ride to work. I think she’s seeing my roommate.”
Mike shook his head again. “Lucky bastard.”
Herman smiled and retreated with two envelopes destined for accounting.
Out in the hallway, his cell phone began to vibrate, and he pulled it quickly from his pants pocket. “Hello?”