by Grace, K D
Kate uttered a little gasp and pulled her friend into such a tight embrace that it forced the breath from Rita’s lungs and made her gasp. ‘Oh God, it’s true then? I was afraid of this. What is it, hon? Organised crime? Drugs? White slavery?’ Her voice got higher and higher with each new speculation.
‘No!’ Rita extricated herself and rubbed her crunched ribs. ‘It’s nothing like that. It’s …’
Kate leaned closer. ‘It’s what?’
‘It’s an initiation.’ There! She’d said it, and she’d said it out loud. For a horrifying few seconds, she held her breath, half expecting Vivienne and her gang of thugs to show up with a newly made chastity belt, one that covered her whole body, one that she would never get out of.
Kate blinked. ‘A what?’’
By the time Rita finished the whole story, the bottle of wine was long gone along with two pots of tea, a Chinese take-away and serious amounts of Jaffa Cakes. OK, she didn’t need to give every detail, but this was Kate she was talking to, and hadn’t she been absolutely bursting to tell her everything from the beginning? Anyway, once a little of the truth was out, what was the difference if she told the whole thing? At last the two sat in silence, Kate dragging her teaspoon through the trail of sugar strung across the tea tray. ‘Bloody hell, Ree, if anyone else told me what you just did, I’d swear they were barking.’ She nodded to the blank television. ‘The guy in the mask, that was Edward?’
Rita nodded.
‘How can you be certain if you’ve never seen his face?’ She raised a hand. ‘Never mind, I guess that’s a pretty stupid question under the circumstances. And Alex?’ She scooted closer. ‘Does he have a girlfriend?’
‘The subject never came up, but based on my experience, I don’t think having a girlfriend is very popular at The Mount.’
‘Well, maybe you’re in the process of changing that.’
Rita couldn’t quite muster her friend’s optimism.
‘I’ve always considered myself open-minded,’ Kate said. ‘Though I never did get the guy on guy thing. At least not until tonight.’ She nodded to the television. ‘Can I have a copy of that DVD?’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
Kate drummed her fingers on the coffee table and studied her friend with hard eyes.
‘What?’
‘You really don’t expect me to believe you’ve put yourself through all this just for the story, do you?’
Rita sprang from the sofa and began to pace. ‘Of course it’s for the story. Jesus, Katie, Vivienne’s a sadistic bitch, and I expect to be well compensated when I burst her little bubble. I want the satisfaction of watching that slut squirm when it all gets exposed. Don’t look at me like that. You don’t know what I’ve been through.’
‘Let me see,’ Kate began to tick off a list on her fingers. ‘There’s fucking, then there’s sex with hot blokes, oh, and let’s don’t leave out sex with hot chicks, then there’s more fucking.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m trying to be sympathetic, really I am, Ree. Then there’s this.’ Kate switched the DVD back on just as Alex said. ‘Show me how you’d kiss Rita, and when she watches, she’ll know you were thinking about her mouth.’
‘Stop it, Kate.’ Rita reached for the remote, but Kate jerked it away and fast forwarded. ‘Don’t sweat it, mate.’ Alex was saying to the brooding Edward. ‘You’ll be with her soon enough, and you can tell her how you feel. Though I can’t imagine that she doesn’t already know how much you –’
‘Stop it!’ Rita grabbed the remote and switched off the DVD, but not before she got a tender view of Edward’s back and buttocks, curled against Alex, and the ache beneath her breast bone seemed suddenly bottomless. ‘I’m a journalist,’ she spoke over the hammering of her heart. ‘I didn’t ask for any of this, but now that I’m in it, only a fool would not take advantage.’
Kate grunted. ‘And all for that skank, Owen? You know he’ll find a way to weasel credit for it. Jesus, Rita, what happened to your high American ideals? She nodded to the television. ‘I mean Edward’s fucking a bloke for you. The man loves you, for Christ sake. Any fool can see that.’
‘No.’ Rita stamped her foot. ‘Any fool can’t see that.’ Thoughts of her conversation with Vivienne on the way home from Leo’s flashed through her head and made her face burn. She drew her arms around herself in a tight hug as though she were suddenly cold. ‘You don’t know. You weren’t there. If he loved me, he wouldn’t make me go through this.’ The words caught in her throat and pushed past the lump.
Kate shook her head slowly. ‘You can’t really be that stupid can you?’ She grabbed up the tea tray and padded into the kitchen as though she were off to a fire. ‘I won’t argue with you. But don’t come crying to me when it all goes tits-up.’ She came back from the kitchen and plopped down on the couch next to Rita. ‘Before I discovered your great new porn, I came here to tell you that I’ve had a visit from a private eye.’ She held Rita’s gaze. ‘He was asking all kinds of questions about you. And you’re not surprised, are you?’
Rita shook her head.
‘I told him it was none of his damned business. If he wasn’t the cops I had nothing to say to him.’
‘And?’
‘He left. That was this morning. Is that a part of your initiation?’
‘No.’ Rita rubbed the bridge of her nose to ease the beginnings of a headache just behind her eyes.
‘Jesus, Ree! You mean there’s more?’
‘It’s my mother.’ The words came out sounding too much like a whine.
‘Are you having a laugh?’ Kate let out a low whistle. ‘Doubt if she’ll approve of her daughter the porn queen, even if a Pulitzer is imminent.’
Rita shook her head. ‘The damage is already done. I’m sure my mother knows how many times I go to the loo by now.’
‘You think she knows about The Mount?’
The thought made Rita’s stomach ache. She so didn’t need her mother’s interference right now. Please God let her stay away just until the initiation was over and she had the information she needed for the exposé.
Chapter Sixteen
THERE WAS CHILLED CHAMPAGNE and canapés on a table covered in white linen, there was a single red rose in a crystal vase. Beyond that, standing at the window, taking in the view of the city, was Lorelei.
A business proposition, she had said when she called. But a clandestine meeting in a swank hotel room was definitely not the kind of business meeting Owen was used to. Mind you, he wasn’t complaining. No red ties, no charcoal suits. Instead, the turquoise dress she wore looked like it was painted on. It was some fifties style, to the knees and slightly off the shoulder. The matching shoes were unbelievably high-heeled making the muscles of her calves look positively edible.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Frank.’ She turned to face him and offered a cock-stiffening smile. ‘Owen. I’ve been looking forward to our meeting.’ She nodded to the champagne. ‘Would you do the honours?’
Once champagne was served, she invited him to join her at the table near the window. She toasted new friends and endless possibilities. Then she sat her glass down and ran a French manicured nail around the rim. ‘I’m sure you must be wondering why Vivienne sent me to meet with you today, so I won’t keep you waiting.’
He offered himself a mental pat on the back. It was as he’d hoped. Vivienne had sent her. The Vivienne. In his mind’s eye he could already picture the cover of next month’s Talkabout. He would be sitting next to Vivienne inside The Mount, in one of the more intimate dining rooms. She would be wearing some wispy little number, a one-off that some designer had made especially to showcase those luscious breasts and that tiny waist. They would be toasting each other with expensive bubbly, and she would be looking at him adoringly, with just a hint in her eyes that told him their time together would not end in the dining room. And he’d be the envy of – well everybody.
His fantasy left him breathless, and he forced his attention back to the present. He leaned across t
he table into Lorelei’s stunning gaze, offering his best business face. ‘How may I be of assistance, Lorelei?’
‘Both Vivienne and I, along with others at The Mount, are quite impressed with the work you’ve done at Talkabout. The magazine seems to have flourished since you’ve taken the reins.’ She sipped her champagne. ‘You might not think so, but The Mount is always concerned about publicity. Of course the publicity we don’t get is probably the most important.’
‘Of course. Part of the mystique and all.’
She nodded. ‘Exactly. But, the time has come when Vivienne feels we should be a little more forthcoming with information about ourselves.’
‘Oh?’
She held his gaze as though she were sizing him up. Clearly there was an astute business woman inside that slinky dress. ‘Of course all this must be done with the utmost discretion and taste in keeping with our reputation.’
‘Of course. Go on.’ He kept his voice neutral, which was no small task under the circumstances.
‘Vivienne thinks you’re the man to write a story on The Mount. It would be an exposé, of sorts, in that nothing like this has ever been done before.’
My God! It was even better than he’d hoped. There would be a Pulitzer, there would be his pick of positions. At last there would be the hard-earned recognition he so deserved. Of course he’d try to break the news to Rita gently. Surely she would understand that they wanted someone with more experience to do the exposé. If she didn’t, well it really didn’t matter, did it? He was the boss, after all.
‘Owen? Mr Frank? Are you all right?’
Owen remembered to breathe. He pressed his feet hard against the floor under the table to keep his knees from trembling. My God! This was a dream come true. ‘Fine. I’m fine. I must say, I’m a little surprised, that’s all. Of course! Of course I’d be happy to do it. Whatever you want.’
‘Good.’ She offered a breasty sigh and relaxed back into her chair. ‘Wonderful.’ There was that smile again, the one he wanted to eat. But it was quickly subsumed into her business face. ‘There are a few finer points Vivienne has asked me to discuss with you.’ This time she leaned so far over the table that her well displayed tits were indeed well displayed and she didn’t seem to mind if he looked. ‘Remember, The Mount has always benefited from gossip and rumour. When I tell you what will be expected of you, I’m sure you’ll keep that in mind.’
‘Of course, naturally. Go on.’
‘First of all, Vivienne is to have complete editorial control.’
He blinked and jerked back in his chair feeling almost as though he’d just been slapped. This was not a part of his fantasy. This wasn’t at all what he had in mind. He took a deep breath, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the nervous twitch he felt threatening his upper lip. ‘My dear Lorelei, journalism doesn’t work that way. I run a magazine, not a PR firm.’
Once again, Lorelei offered that steamy smile. Definitely unfair negotiating advantage, he thought. ‘Vivienne was certain a fine journalist such as yourself would feel that way, so she asked me to offer you this as a part of her effort to convince you that you’re the right man for the job.’ She stood and walked slowly to the dressing table, making sure he had plenty of time to admire her well-rounded bottom. From her bag she took a plain white envelope and handed it to him.
While she waited for him to open it, she nibbled a canapé, doing things to smoked salmon with her mouth that caused his cock to jerk in his trousers, making it hard to concentrate on the envelope. But at last he worried it open and pulled out a single slip of white paper that read, five million. ‘What’s this?’
‘If you agree to our little offer, that’s the number of pounds you’ll find deposited in your account by the time you get back to your office today.’
For a second he could barely hear over his sudden struggle to breathe. ‘Are you serious? You can’t be serious?’ God, he sounded like a stupid amateur.
She leaned down and kissed his ear, nibbling the lobe like it was a delicate canapé. ‘Oh I’m very serious, Owen. Very serious indeed.’
His pulse threatened to hammer its way through his throat. He stared at the words on the paper until they slid out of focus. Even the close proximity of Lorelei’s luscious mouth paled in comparison to the visions of Ferraris and country cottages and super models on his arm that danced through his head.
‘Owen?’
‘What do I have to do?’ His voice sounded breathless, like a gale had caught in his throat and threatened to strangle him.
She knelt in front of him and rested her hand on his fly, her blue eyes shining beneath enormous lashes. ‘All you have to do is write the story that Vivienne tells you to write. Do exactly as she says, and the exposé is all yours, the money’s all yours,’ she ran a lacquered nail over the buckle of his belt, ‘and other fringe benefits as well.’ She leaned in close and rubbed her cheek against the beginnings of a bulge. ‘All yours for the taking.’
She stood so quickly that it took serious restraint to keep from grabbing her and pulling her face back down to his crotch. But then she reached behind her, unzipped the turquoise dress and stepped out of it. Owen found himself looking at the most perfect body he had ever seen, displayed in burgundy silk lingerie that he had no doubt would have set him back a good three months’ salary, but oh God, she was worth it. Her breasts practically spilled over the top of the deep lace plunge, and the thong made a matching lacy V just above her pussy.
Now her smile was almost shy. ‘Vivienne sent me to persuade you to work for us.’ She knelt in front of him again. ‘She said use any means at my disposal.’ With amazing agility considering the length of her nails, she undid his belt and trousers and reached inside. She looked up at him with a pout that was almost innocent. ‘Please say yes, Owen.’ Her voice was thin and girlish, ‘For me.’
Before he could even feign a protest, she pulled his cock into her mouth so deeply and with such delicious suction that he nearly fell off the chair. Just when he had almost forgotten everything else in the world but his cock in her mouth she pulled away and whimpered, slipping a hand into her panties, making no effort to hide her squirming. ‘Please say yes, Owen. Please do what Vivienne asks so we can fuck.’
‘This is highly … I normally don’t … urgh.’
She took him into her mouth again, snaking her tongue along the length of him, doing things that made him certain her tongue was prehensile. He groaned out loud and humped her mouth like it was a pussy. ‘Please,’ she said when she came up for air. ‘It’ll be so good for all of us, I promise you. Your career will be made, and you’ll be able to do whatever you want.’ She guided his hand to her breasts. ‘You’ll have your own private table at The Mount with me, or even Vivienne, to share it with you.’
She unhooked her bra releasing her lovely tits, eager nipples first, and he was convinced. Oh God, how he was convinced! ‘Tell Vivienne I’ll do it.’ He stood and pulled her to her feet, then he pushed and nudged her toward the bed with her frantically tugging and shoving at his clothes and whimpering like she was gagging for it.
‘I’m so glad. I’m so glad,’ she gasped as they fell onto the bed. He pushed aside her thong and shoved into her smoothly shaven cunt. She was tight, so tight and slippery. He knew he couldn’t last long. She wrapped her legs around him, shoes and all, shoving and humping like she couldn’t wait either. He drilled harder and faster figuring this was just a prelude as badly as she wanted him. They both needed to come, just get rid of all that tension that had built up. Then they could take their time. He’d take the afternoon off. After all, they had the room.
‘Oh God, Oh God! Owen, I’m coming,’ she gasped.
And he came too.
Chapter Seventeen
VIVIENNE’S FLAT WAS EMPTY. Lorelei shivered and chafed her arms. She couldn’t remember Vivienne’s flat ever being empty. This time of evening the place was always buzzing with activity. It was true Lorelei had returned later than she had expected, but Vivi
enne had ordered her to stay until the job was done. How was she to know that in spite of Owen Frank’s sleazy reputation, the man was into marathon sex, and not half bad at it either. Fucking him might be an inconvenience, but it was certainly no hardship.
Edward was at work in the study, Alex was teaching a dance lesson, and Aurora was in the dungeon punishing the errant CEO of some bank. No one had seen Vivienne in the restaurant either. Lorelei wandered down the narrow hall toward the back entrance. Sometimes Vivienne sought out unlikely spots to take lovers. It was a kinky thing with her, having sex in unusual places. The only thing she liked better than sex in unusual places was being caught in the act. There were no grunts of pleasure coming from the linen closet, nor the pantry next to the lift.
Lorelei stepped out into the alley where two sleek limos stood ready for the private use of members. One driver was busy reading a novel, the other talked quietly on his mobile. Both offered her a polite nod.
She was about to go back inside when a muffled whimper further down the alley got her attention. Careful not to turn her ankle on the cobbles, she tiptoed behind the limos and around to where the dumpsters from the kitchen sat. As she moved closer, she heard it again, a muffled grunt followed by a whine.
She thought she recognised the faded blue gym suit with the hood pulled up, but it was those ugly pink flip-flops that gave her away. What the hell was Rita Holly doing behind the kitchen bins?
Then a masculine voice mumbled something Lorelei couldn’t quite catch, and she froze in her tracks. Surely Rita wasn’t stupid enough to meet Edward here like this? But hadn’t she just seen Edward hard at work in the study? Vivienne always said the chick was a slut. Lorelei had masturbated more than once thinking about Rita pleasuring the two guards the night she was brought before the High Council.
Whoever she was with, his face was buried in Rita’s cleavage and he was nursing hungrily.