by Tabatha Kiss
“It’s a gym,” Melanie says.
“Daddy getting his swole on,” Trix muses. “Is he as ripped as he looks, Nora?”
I ease forward slightly to catch sight of Clive as he opens his trunk and withdraws a red gym bag.
“Yeah, he’s in pretty good shape,” I answer. “He also works at a gym on weekends and, low and behold, it’s Sunday. So, now that we know he didn’t drive to a box under a bridge, can we please go?”
Melanie gasps. “Maybe this is where he showers!”
Trix slaps her shoulder. “You think?”
“Yeah! Gym memberships don’t cost nearly as much as rent and it’d cost even less with an employee discount. If I were homeless, this is how I’d stay clean.”
I sigh. I want to argue but she makes a decent point.
“What are we looking at?”
I jump at the familiar male voice in my ear. I spin around, coming face-to-face with Robbie.
“God, Rob!” I smack the arm of his leather jacket. “You scared the shit out of me...”
Trix smiles. “Hi, Robbie!”
Melanie groans at him. “What do you want?”
“I saw you guys slinking around,” he says with a shrug. “Thought I’d come say hi.”
Melanie crosses her arms. “You know, for a city with almost three million people in it, we tend to bump into each other an awful lot.”
“Yeah, it’s almost like you’re obsessed with me or something,” he says, smirking. “So, whatcha up to? Casting spells from the Book of Shadows you found in your attic after your grandmother died?”
“Did you literally look up a bunch of witch references just to whip out and insult me with?” Melanie asks.
He nods. “Yes, I did.”
She rolls her eyes.
Trix waves him closer. “We’re spying on Nora’s Dom!”
His jaw drops at me. “You have a Dom?!”
I sulk in annoyance. “Trix…”
“Wait, I thought you were a Dom,” he says.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m a submissive.”
“Well, that’s disappointing,” he says. “I pictured you in a corset with a little whip. It was so cute.”
Melanie raises a brow. “You pictured her in a corset?”
“Hey,” he waves his left hand, “do you see a ring on this finger?”
She sneers with disgust and turns away from him.
His grin returns and he pushes forward to stand with Trix. “So, where is he? I wanna see him.”
She sighs. “He went inside.”
“Oh, the gym.” He nods with respect. “Nothing like that mid-Sunday pump.”
“Hey —” Trix nudges him. “Will you go in and see if he’s using the shower?”
Robbie rises an inch. “Will I what?”
Melanie nods. “Yes!”
I glare at her. “How are you agreeing with this?”
“Because my momentary desire to solve this mystery briefly outweighs my eternal hatred for Robbie,” she says.
“Oh, this must be good, then,” he says. “What mystery?”
I groan in defeat. “He may have been homeless six months ago...”
He pauses. “Okay...”
“So, we’re following him to see if he’s still homeless now.”
“Why, does he smell?”
“No,” I answer.
“Then, who cares?”
Trix snorts. “You and Mel agree on something.”
He smirks at Melanie. “Oh, Melanie and I have agreed many, many times.”
Melanie stays quiet, her eyes squinting.
He turns back to me. “So, you want me to go in there to see if he’s... using the shower?”
Trix nods. “Yep.”
“Instead of, I don’t know, asking him yourself if he’s homeless?”
I cringe. “Yeah.”
“Why can’t one of you do it?”
Melanie points at me. “Well, he knows her. He’d probably recognize me, too.”
“Why can’t Trix do it, then?” he asks.
She sneers. “Because I don’t wanna.”
Robbie looks between the three of us and sighs. “What does he look like?” he asks.
“He’s your height,” I say, looking up at him. “Brown hair, short but not buzzed. Bright, blue eyes. He was wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt with a black jacket.”
“No,” Melanie says. “He wore black pants and a blue jacket.”
“Pretty sure it was jeans.”
Trix wrinkles her nose. “I thought he had a dark gray polo.”
“Ladies,” Robbie says. “Do the world a favor: Never witness a murder. Mm’kay?”
Melanie takes out her phone. “Okay, hold on. I should have a picture of him.”
I blink. “Why do you have a picture of him?”
“I took it during our interview,” she says, swiping the screen. “Ah — here!”
She hands it to Robbie and he takes a look.
“Hello, gorgeous!” He winks at me. “Good job, Nor.”
My lips twitch as I blush. “Thanks.”
“Wait, when was this interview?” he asks.
“Five months ago-ish?” Melanie answers.
“So, you were taking pictures of gorgeous men while you were still married to me but for me to mentally picture Nora in a corset now is— you know what?” He gives the phone back. “Never mind. I’m just gonna let that one marinate. Be right back.”
He spins around and walks off toward the gym.
“Thanks, Robbie!” Trix shouts after him, prompting a casual wave with his good hand.
Melanie exhales hard with a raised brow. “He has a point, doesn’t he?”
I nod. “We won’t tell, though.”
“Thank you.”
Trix heaves a happy sigh. “This is way better than a movie.”
I sink a little deeper, feeling a heavy weight on my shoulders. This feels wrong. I trust him. He trusts me. That bond is forming, albeit slowly, but it’s there and I can feel it. I don’t want to sneak around and follow him like some—
“Oh—!” Trix slaps my arm. “He’s coming back.”
My heart leaps as Robbie shuffles his way back toward our hiding place.
“Well, I was right,” he says, stopping in front of us.
We lean in.
“Right about what?” I ask with wide eyes.
“If you walk up to the counter and say, ‘Hey, I know I don’t go here, but can I check your showers for a man with bright, blue eyes?’ they will ask you to leave.”
I deflate. “You didn’t see him?”
He shakes his head. “I did not. Sorry, Nora.”
“Thanks anyway, Rob.”
“Don’t mention it.” He shifts back a step. “Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I have to get back to work.”
Melanie snorts. “Sure ya do.”
He smirks. “What part of that do you find so unbelievable, Mel?”
“All of it,” she says. “Just… the whole thing.”
“You know, most men wouldn’t say this, but I wish you were more like your mother.”
She grits her teeth in offense. “What did you just say?”
Trix rolls her eyes at me. “Oh, boy.”
“You heard me,” Robbie says, twisting to face Melanie. “Glenn and Francie don’t doubt me at all. They encourage and support me, unlike you. In fact, I’m going to tell them about this next weekend.”
“N… next weekend?” she repeats.
“That’s right.” He nods.
“What’s next weekend?”
“My monthly dinner with your parents.”
Her face turns beet red. “Your what?”
“I have dinner with your parents once a month,” he says with a shrug. “You didn’t know?”
“No, I didn’t know!” she seethes. “Why do you still have dinner with my parents?”
“Because they’re awesome.”
“Bullshit.” She points a finger at him.
“What are you up to?”
“I’m not up to anything, Mel. I’ve always had a good relationship with your parents. Don’t make this some kind of conspiracy. I like hanging out with them and they enjoy keeping in touch with me, so we have dinner.”
“Not after the divorce is finalized! After that, you’re supposed to go away.”
“Says who?” he asks.
“Says everybody!”
I break away from the group and walk toward Clive’s car as their argument surges on behind me.
Robbie chuckles. “Well, luckily, I’ve never been one to blindly follow what society tells me I’m supposed to do, so I’m just gonna keep doing what makes me happy.”
“No.” Melanie stomps her foot in defiance. “This stops now.”
“You’re free to start tagging along, if you want,” he offers.
“No, thank you.”
“Fine. We’ll all just see each other at Christmas, then.”
“You’re coming to my family’s Christmas?!” she shrieks.
“Yes.”
“No, you’re not.”
“And miss Francie’s peppermint snickerdoodles?” He scoffs. “Not a chance.”
“Robbie, where are you going?”
“Work.”
“Bullshit.”
I stare into the backseat of Clive’s car, or what bits of it I can see into. The windows are covered with makeshift blockers to keep the sun out — or unwanted attention. Like exactly what I’m doing right now.
There’s a pillow on the seat. Food wrappers and empty water bottles. Not enough evidence to prove it but just enough to make me believe it.
Trix enters my reflection in the window and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “You want to catch that movie?” she asks, giving me a reassuring squeeze.
I force a light smile. “No, I think I’ll just head home.”
“I’ll drive you back to your car.” She looks over her shoulder. “Once we separate those two, obviously…”
I chuckle and follow her gaze toward the empty street. “Where did they go, exactly?” I ask.
She grimaces. “Ah, crap.”
We rush off down the street to catch up with them.
Twenty-Five
Clive
I shove the towel cart around the corner, pausing by the hamper outside the locker rooms to gather the last dirty ones on this floor. Then, it’s an hour of quiet downstairs while I wash and dry and fold. Of all my jobs, I can honestly say this one is the most relaxing — not that it will matter much today after what happened last night.
Last night was… well, to put it bluntly, fucking amazing. It didn’t quite sink in for me until I left her condo this morning. It’s been so long since I met a woman who meshed so well with me.
Actually, I take that back.
I’ve never met a woman who meshed so well with me.
I head downstairs to the laundry room, replaying the moments over and over again. Latching that collar around her neck. The warmth of her mouth when she sucked my dick. That beautiful ruin on her face every time the nipple clamps did their job and that absolutely perfect way she said she wanted to submit.
I’d do it all again. I will do it all again.
“Hey, Clive!”
I look up from the washing machine to find Alex standing behind me.
“Hi,” I say, turning up my hands.
“Why didn’t you answer me?” I ask. “I called out to you three times.”
I focus on the machine. “I’m just busy,” I say.
“Yeah, I bet.” He smirks. “Busy got a name and her name is Payne. Am I right?”
I gawk at him. “No.”
He slaps my shoulder and hops up to sit on the next machine down. “Seriously, though. You find that drive yet?”
“No,” I answer.
“You got into her place, right?” He furrows his brow. “Tell me you got into her place by now. Otherwise, the world of good pussy is doomed for all of us.”
“Yes, I got in.”
He leans in with excitement. “So, where is it?”
“I’m not sure,” I say, dumping the rest of the towels into the washer. “I didn’t find it out in the open and she woke up before I could really dig into her office but there is a small safe built into her bedside table. I think it might be in there.”
Alex grins. “Now, that’s progress.”
I nod. “I need more time.”
He cringes. “I’ll keep stalling, but…”
“Then, keep stalling.”
“But this buyer wants his product.”
I glare at him and he holds up his hands.
“All right. Stall mode activated.” He pats my shoulder again. “But tell me. How did it go otherwise?”
My heart skips as I imagine her mewling on top of me in the dark.
“It went fine,” I say.
He sighs in disappointment. “You’re the only guy I know who doesn’t kiss and tell, man.”
“No, you just hang out with a lot of douchebags, Alex.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Ain’t gonna argue with that.”
I shift my focus to the dryer as it shuts off. “Anyway, I gotta…”
Alex slides off the washer. “All right, man. Keep me updated. But, uh… you know. Hurry up. The rest of our lives is waiting for us.”
I ignore it until he disappears down the hall.
The rest of our lives. It was so easy to imagine before. On the road with a brand new car, plenty of food, and extra cash to spend. A smooth, easy-going existence to anywhere but here. It’s been so long since I looked forward to anything, but now…
I can’t wait for Monday morning.
Can’t say I’ve ever thought that before.
* * *
Monday morning. Little Black Book. Nine-to-five shift.
I’ve been working here for only a few weeks and I’ve never felt so excited to walk into this building. Even the lonely, old security guy up front seems to notice the special hop in my step. Instead of the usual wave, he gives me a salute. I’ll take it. Hell, I’ll even salute him right back.
The sooner I get up to the fifteenth floor, the sooner I get to see Nora.
The elevator comes into sight and it dings, ready to close on me but I don’t want to delay getting upstairs any longer than I have to.
“Wait!” I say. “Hold the elevator!”
A small hand reaches through and blocks the doors from closing at the last second. They slide back open and I pick up my pace to make it before they decide to close again.
I step on. “Thanks—”
And it’s Nora Payne.
Her hair is held up in a tight bun. She stands tall in a nice suit — or what her petite stature’s version of tall is — with her briefcase and purse held down in front of her. My eyes fall to the plastic pearl dangling above the hollow of her throat. She’s wearing her collar for me.
My cock twitches in my briefs.
“Good morning, Clive,” she says, offering a professional smile.
I nod and stand beside her. “Good morning, Ms. Payne,” I say.
I tap the button to the fifteenth floor, praying silently that the doors hurry up and close before someone else manages to get on.
We stand still, staring straight ahead, until the doors close.
I slap the stop button and the car halts mid-floor.
Nora drops her things as I rush at her. Our lips merge together and she performs a little hop as I hoist her up and pin her little body to the corner wall.
“Good girl,” I groan. I kiss from her lips to her cheek and down to her collared neck. “Very good girl.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should wear it to work,” she says, laughing. “We didn’t really discuss the rules…”
I bend down to kiss her hidden cleavage. “The rules are…” I grip her chin. “You wear it proudly or not at all. Do you understand?”
She licks her wild lips. “Yes, Mr. Snow.”
“To not
wear it is a show of disrespect toward me,” I say, holding her eyes. “And you do not want to disrespect me.” I run my thumb along her bottom lip. “Do you understand?”
Nora smiles. “Yes, I understand.”
I kiss her once more before releasing her from the wall. She lowers her feet to the floor and looks into the mirrored wall to check her shirt for wrinkles while I wipe her lipstick off my lips and fix the mess she made of my hair.
“Do you work tonight?” she asks me, catching her breath.
“Actually, I have one of those strange happenstances I keep hearing about called a night off.”
“Really?” She smiles at me, her eyes twitching with thought.
I reach out to straighten her necklace. “Why?” I ask.
She nods a thank you. “I thought that maybe…” She picks up her purse and briefcase. “Maybe you’d like to grab a cup of coffee. With me.”
I lean over to enable the elevator again. The car bounces an inch and continues its ascent.
“Coffee?” I ask.
“Uh-huh,” she says.
“Coffee…”
“Yeah, you know, it’s like tea but better,” she quips. “Or worse, depending on your perspective.”
I shift on my feet. “Hmm.”
“What?”
“It just occurred to me that we’ve never gotten coffee before.”
“I came to a similar realization myself,” she says. “Figured I’d do something about it. Also, it gives us a chance to talk. One-on-one. Face-to-face. About something other than… well, you know.”
“Talk?” I ask.
“Uh-huh.”
“Talk…”
She squints in confusion. “Yeah, you know, it’s like thinking… but you say it out loud.”
I laugh. “Okay. Sure. If you want.”
Her eyes shine with the slightest, most innocent, twinkle. “I want.”
“Then,” I stand taller, “let’s get some coffee… and talk.”
Nora bites her lip. “Meet me at the coffee shop next to Red Brick at six?”
I nod. “I can do that.”