"Holy fucking hell, is he hot.
I had let my lids drift closed and was happily resting when Tiffany's outburst roused me. I opened my eyes and there he was—and there went my pulse, racing as if I'd run a marathon. I'd always considered myself unflappable. No matter what came through that door, I'd roll with it. But that had been before John.
"I'm calling it," Tiffany continued. "I get him. You bitches stay away. I saw him first."
She sure as hell hadn't seen him first. I had, in all his glory, two months ago when Gus had sent me to his hotel room to pay off a gambling debt.
"You can't claim him, you biatch. It's his choice who he goes with." Sasha had walked over from the bar in time to hear and put Tiffany in her place, which was good because what could I have said? You can't have him. He's mine? I knew that wasn't even close to the truth.
Trina snorted, obviously crazy enough to get involved in this battle between Sasha and Tiffany. "That's never stopped you from dirty hustling my customers, Sasha."
"Fuck you, Trina. I've never stolen one of your customers and you know it."
Sahara rolled her eyes at the three girls bickering. "Chill, all of you. He's not a customer. He's the new owner."
The youngest one here, but sometimes it seemed as if Sahara was the only adult among us. At least her revelation had put a stop to the impending catfight between the girls.
I supposed with the arrival of the busload of frat boys yesterday, John's very brief appearance in the hallway had been missed by everyone except for Sahara and me. They didn't miss noticing him today, though. Just as I didn't miss how fucking hot he looked as he stood talking to Henry. I'd seem John in a suit, and I'd seen him naked. What I'd never seen was the casual version of John that was here today. He wore khaki pants with a white, short-sleeved golf shirt, but still with the ever-present cowboy boots. This pair brown instead of the black ones I'd seem him wear with his suit.
"That's the new owner?" Tiffany asked. "Hell of a step up from Gus."
"A step up?" Sasha laughed. "This guy and Gus aren't even part of the same species. Jesus. Look at him. I'd take him on a free ride any day of the week."
I was sure she would. Any one of them would. Judging by their expressions, they were all about one step away from drooling over him.
John glanced over Henry's shoulder and caught all of us in the parlor staring at him. But it was my gaze he met. He raised one hand and motioned that I should come to him.
"Cate, is he waving to you?" Sasha asked, sounding shocked.
"Yeah. He's been talking to me, you know, about the business and Gus and stuff like that." I stood and when I looked at the other girls still seated on the sofa, I saw every one of them was focused on me and most didn't look happy. "What?" I asked the group in general.
"Just wondering how you got so lucky." One of Tiffany's brows hitched higher. "I can talk about the business too, if that's what you're really doing with him. In fact, I think I'll tell him that right now."
"Do whatever the hell you want, Tiffany." I shot her a glare before I turned to make my way to the front.
There was no way I could let her, or any of the girls know that the thought of John treating them to the same alone time he and I shared made me a little sick to my stomach.
I walked fast and reached John first, though Tiffany was right on my tail. I could hear her heels clicking on the floor behind me once we'd left the carpeted parlor and reached the hard floor of the entryway.
"I need to get back to the office," Henry told John as I got within earshot.
"Of course. I'll catch up with you later." When Henry left him, John nodded a hello to me before his gaze moved to Tiffany.
"Hi, there." She practically cooed at him, and I was inspired to plant my spike heel into the top of her foot.
"Hello." John nodded.
"I'm Tiffany. Pleasure to meet you." She extended her hand to him.
He shook it, and then released his hold. When she didn't leave, John asked, "Was there something I can do for you?"
"I'm thinking there's something I can do for you."
Tiffany's offer had the bile rising into my throat. I realized I'd crossed my arms and was glaring. What can I say? I never did hide my feelings very well.
"You've already helped me tremendously through your continued work during this transition in ownership. I appreciate it." John turned to me, and put one hand on my shoulder, effectively shutting Tiffany out of our conversation. "Cate, may I speak with you for a moment?"
"Sure." I did get a brief look at the scowl on Tiffany's face as John ushered me down the hallway toward Henry's private residence. I wasn't all that broken up about Tiffany or her feelings. I was on my way to be alone with John and I couldn't think much past the tingle of anticipation inside me.
He closed the door once we were inside the sitting room, but I—being extra observant and horny—noticed he didn't lock it.
"A visit from the boss two days in a row. Wow." I made light of his presence, even though I didn’t feel at all casual about it.
John's mouth tipped up in a half smile. "I deserve that. I have been too absent, which is why I'm here. Henry and I are looking at the available space. I'm putting an owner's apartment on site."
Since John was the owner, that was very good news.
"You'd live here?"
"No, not full time. I still have my work in California I need to attend to. It's more so I can be here when I'm in town. It seems foolish to stay in a hotel when this property is here. And I would like to be more hands-on with the business."
Hands-on was exactly what I'd like John to be with me, and if he stayed here whenever he was in this state, however often that was, things were looking up for some hands-on time.
I realized his being on site was a double-edged sword, because that would put him within grabbing distance of all the other girls. But he hadn't responded at all favorably to Tiffany's advances. That gave me hope.
"You're very quiet, Cate. Do you not think it's a good idea that I'd be here?"
I was quiet because I was envisioning waking up in John's bed, indulging in some pre-breakfast morning sex, and then rolling into the parlor, sated, so I could go to work for the day. Sounded pretty damn nice to me. A habit I could get into.
"I think it's a wonderful idea. Are you adding on to the building or repurposing existing space?" Time to talk logistics before I started undressing him, which I'd already done in my mind.
In his current mood, seemingly all business, I wasn't sure he'd welcome that so I figured I'd better distract myself. Besides, in the old days during college when I'd actually watched television, I'd loved those home renovation shows.
"Adding on is an option, but first I'm having my contractor take a look at the space upstairs. See if it's a possibility for a small apartment."
I'd been upstairs. It was where we kept the Christmas and Valentines Day decorations—yes, hookers liked Christmas and Valentines Day too, just like everyone else. It was dark and dusty up there, but the ceilings were full height in the center before they sloped down to follow the roofline. It had potential.
I nodded. "It might work if you added a few skylights because there's only two windows, one at each end, and they're both kind of small. You'd want a full bathroom put in up there too. I'm not sure about running plumbing and stuff, but the contractor will know."
His smile stretched wide until it crinkled the corners of his eyes. "We're on exactly the same page, you and I. I'd discussed the possibility of skylights on the phone with the contractor. He's on his way here now." Glancing at his watch, he added, "If he hasn't arrived already for our meeting."
"Oh, okay. I'll let you go." I'd been dismissed, and without any of the fun I'd hoped for. "I guess I'll see you later."
He reached for the door and opened it for me. "I hope so."
John waited for me to walk ahead into the hall. He turned left into the office and I had the pleasure of walking into the parlor under the scrutiny of a
ll the girls.
"That was quick." Tiffany pursed her lips and looked every bit the bitch she was. "Must not have been very good."
"He only wanted to talk. He has an appointment." I scowled, mostly at myself for giving Tiffany answers when she didn't deserve them.
"No man wants to just talk when I'm with him, but whatever." She looked away trying to be cocky but I knew the truth. She was jealous and, call me petty, I was enjoying it.
John didn't reappear. I could only assume the contractor had arrived and the men were crawling around in the attic, hopefully ignoring the tree ornament that depicted a naughty Santa doing Mrs. Claus from behind. And the naughty Rudolph. And the naughty Frosty. And the penis garland . . . Yeah, ours was a unique Christmas tree.
Enough time passed with no sign of John that I even took a stroll by the office. There I found Henry inside alone, working on the computer. He glanced up. "Need something?"
"No, I'm good. Thanks." It was a lie, albeit a polite one.
What I really wanted to say was I needed John to fuck away this ache that seeing him had caused inside me.
I strutted back to the parlor, all dressed up and no one to do. What good were fuck-me heels if there were no men to fuck? I threw myself back against the sofa with a huff.
"What's wrong with you?" Sahara eyed me.
I mustered the incentive to tilt my head toward her, but not much more. "I'm bored and horny."
She smiled wide—oh to be so young and enthusiastic again. "All you had to do was ask."
I hadn't asked and she didn't wait for me to. Sahara got on her knees and spread my legs. With my eyes opened as wide as my legs, I asked, "Here?"
"Sure. Why not? The customers love this shit. And it's fun for us too." She winked.
As she pulled my bottoms down my legs and tossed them to me, she looked part angel, part devil. I had no doubt she was going to enjoy this. Once her thumbs spread my lower lips and her tongue connected with me, I couldn't argue that I would enjoy it too.
I was so needy I couldn't help myself. I got into it and blocked out the rest of the world. Sahara latched onto my clit and sucked hard enough to have my hips rising as I pressed harder against her mouth, seeking more. I wanted to come so badly I didn't care when I heard one of the girls and her customer come out of her room and into the parlor. Didn't give a crap when he let out a "holy shit" when he saw what Sahara and I were doing.
She slid one finger inside my pussy and I clenched around it. The sensation exploded through me. Spasm after spasm gripped my muscles for I didn't know how long.
I didn't open my eyes again until the last throb of my orgasm had ended and Sahara pulled back from me. That's when I saw John standing in the front hall, his focus pinned on me. I sat up and reached for my panties. I'd never been ashamed of anything I'd done. Not the girl on girl part. Not the fact we were out in the open. Why would I be? Things like this happened around here all the time. Sometimes because we were putting on a show for the customers. Sometimes because we felt like doing it, such as today.
The problem was, John wasn't around here all the time and he wasn't used to this kind of thing. I'm sure the secretaries didn't get down on their knees in the middle of a board meeting and start blowing the bosses in his world and I wasn't sure how he'd feel about this.
Then again, maybe it didn't matter. It wasn't like he was my boyfriend.
In the back of my mind I knew it did matter to me. He was going to be around more often and that gave me hope that I'd be seeing him more. And then it hit me—I wanted a boyfriend. I wanted John to be that boyfriend.
As I felt the color drain from my face at my realization I watched him and tried to gage his reaction. It was no wonder he'd beaten the pants off Gus and won the Cat Haus in a card game, because John had a poker face if ever I saw one. I couldn't tell if he was turned on or appalled, or maybe too distracted with business plans he'd barely registered what had been happening.
"Hottie boss was just looking this way," Sahara said as she plopped down on the cushion next to me.
"I saw."
"Wonder if he'd like a private show."
"Don't know." I swallowed hard, not wanting to share him. Not even with Sahara, and I genuinely liked her.
I'd never minded the idea of sharing any guy before John.
This wasn't good.
There was a lot of action in the front hallway as John stepped outside, his feelings about me and what he'd seen still a mystery, and a customer came in. My wallowing in my own sorrow would have to come to an end because I recognized the guy coming in as one of mine.
As he came into the parlor, Tiffany sashayed from the bar and into his path. Poor guy was not the most alpha of males. He glanced at me then at Tiffany, looking like he'd rather crawl under the carpet than see or speak to anyone on his way to the back.
I stood, knowing I needed to rescue him from her talons. "I got this one, Tiff."
"No, you don't." She shot me a glare.
"He's one of Cate's regulars, Tiffany." Sahara backed me up, not that it mattered to Tiffany. By the way she continued blocking his path to me, she needed to hear it from him directly.
Maybe this was good for him, making him stand up for himself. Kind of like therapy.
His blond brows drew low and I watched him visibly swallow as his gaze ping-ponged between Tiffany and me. "I, uh, came to see Cate?"
"Fine." Tiffany let out a loud huff and spun toward the bar.
I nodded to my customer. "Shall we go in back?"
His eyes dropped to take in my lacy outfit. "Um, do you still . . . do that?"
He'd become my customer during my month of darkness, when I'd worn nothing but black and had an attitude to match. I'd come back to the light, but I could still muster my Domme attitude for him and give him what he was looking for.
"Come back and I'll show you." I knew he needed a strong hand. He craved domination and other things he wouldn't ask his wife for.
I'd encouraged him on the two other occasions he'd been here to discuss his needs with her. The fact he was here now told me he hadn't talked to his spouse. Though maybe he had and she'd been appalled by his request. Shit. I needed to find out. More, I needed to stop giving marriage and love advice. I was qualified to fuck, not give this guy a counseling session.
I closed the door of my room behind us and turned to him, my arms crossed over my chest and a stern expression on my face. I'd keep up the persona he wanted from me, even as on the inside I was cringing that I might have somehow fucked up his marriage. Hell, his whole life even.
"You talk to your wife yet?"
His gaze dropped. "No."
Phew. I was off the hook. "All right. I'll give you what you want even though you didn't do as I asked."
"Thank you." His eyes stayed on the floor.
"You have the money?"
He nodded and fumbled in his pocket for the cash, and then handed it to me.
I made a show of counting it, as if I didn't trust him. The reality was this guy wasn't the type to try and shortchange me, but it made me look like more of a hard ass to check it.
"All right. It's all here. Take off your clothes and get on the bed."
Moving toward the bed, he started to work on his belt. I had a belt of my own to work on—my strap-on harness. You see, this guy didn't just like to be told what to do. He also liked to be fucked in the ass. Oh, he wasn't gay. He didn't want a man doing it. He wanted a woman doing it. Me in particular. At least that's how it had been for three weeks in a row.
I could only assume he waited to get his paycheck, took out the cash and came here, because it was always on the same day. This guy seemed like the kind who liked a schedule, but I wouldn’t think that his need for a good ass reaming would hit him on exactly the same day every week. I was going to stick with the payday assumption.
I chose a small dildo to start. I'd move up from there to the biggest one. He could take it. I'd done it before. But for now, I'd tease him for a little whi
le.
He wasn't a bad looking guy. Maybe forty. Still had his hair. Had a good set of teeth, though the only parts I could see of him right now as he kneeled on the bed were his white ass and his balls as they hung between his legs.
I pulled on a rubber glove, making sure he heard the snap of the latex. A visible shiver ran down his spine. I pumped the lube bottle on the table next to the bed. The cool clear liquid filled my palm. Trailing one gloved finger through the puddle in my hand, I scooped up a good bit and let it drip from my fingertip and into the crack of his ass. That sent another tremor through him.
"Look at this tight little hole." I ran my fingertip around the puckered ring of his anus. I circled him again before I pressed just the tip inside him. Not far. Just enough to tease. "I'm going to stretch this wide."
"Yes." He was already breathing harder.
"You touch yourself here when you're home alone?" I asked, as I pushed my finger deeper.
"No."
Hmm, that was interesting. I twisted my finger inside him. "Why not?"
"It feels wrong."
Him touching himself felt wrong, but his coming to a whorehouse to have me do it, didn't? This guy needed a little guidance. "Flip over."
He did, but looked confused. He'd soon figure it out.
"Pull your knees up."
He did.
"Now put your finger in your ass." I began to see how hard getting over this hurdle was for him. A deep frown drew his brows together. I took a step closer and reached for his cock, only semi-erect. It would be full tilt the moment I slid the dildo into him. I'd seen it happen. "Do it once for me, then I'll give you what you want."
I stroked his cock, slow and easy, more to soothe than to arouse. Looking frightened, he reached beneath himself and felt for his hole. The frown remained, deep and firm, as he penetrated himself for the first time.
"That's good. Just a little farther."
His swallow was so loud I could hear it from where I stood, but he did as I requested and pressed his finger in to the first knuckle.
Cat Haus - the Complete Story (Billionaire Bad Boys) Page 10