by C. J. Thomas
I could tell by the way Madam was looking at me that she was at least entertaining the idea of letting me in on what I was up against. “He’s a very powerful man.”
I ticked a few boxes and smiled. “Anything else?”
“He holds great influence in the city.”
My smile spread to my ears as heat traveled to my core. I ticked a few more boxes. “Is that all?”
“You have a great spirit, darling.” Madam pushed off her desk and stood upright. “Remember that this isn’t about you. You’re to laugh at his jokes no matter if you find them funny.” Madam rounded her desk and headed in my direction. “Smile when he looks at you.” I watched her hands land on my shoulders. “And make him feel like a God as you hang off his arm.”
My brows squished together. “Then why check all these boxes if I’m not going to get laid?”
Madam tossed her head back and cackled. “Kendra, doll,” her voice dropped to a more serious tone, “your beautiful cunt needs a rest. You haven’t been having sex, have you?”
“My pussy hasn’t been this empty since I was a virgin.”
“Good.” She stepped away. “Tighten it up.” She smoothed her hand down the front of her dazzling skirt. Then she looked at mine. “Are you wearing your own clothes?”
My head dropped and I looked at what I was wearing. “You like it? I can tell you where I bought it if you like.”
“Throw that shit away,” she spat. “And re-read your contract. I can’t have you risking my reputation wearing garbage like that.”
“Look,” I stepped forward, “I have my own wardrobe. Nice things. Expensive clothes. You don’t need to keep sending me clothes. I’m a big girl. I know how to dress. Save your ideas for the other girls.”
Madam stopped moving and turned to meet my gaze. She was quiet as she stared me down and the longer she went without talking, the more nervous I became.
“No offense.” I inhaled a deep breath, wishing that I could go back in time and wear the clothes she’d delivered to my place.
“You’ll do as I say. You’re mine. I choose what you wear, how you wear it, and how to pair it with what makeup. Remember,” she held up my contract, “I own you.”
2
Kelly
“I’m across town,” I said, answering my cell. “How’d it go?”
“Better than expected.”
My heels dug in and I stopped, needing to be sure I heard what Giselle had to say next.
“The case should settle.” I could hear Giselle smiling through the line. “Congratulations, Kelly. We won.”
I rolled my neck and thought to myself, finally. What should have been an open and shut case turned into a year-long struggle to making a deal with the prosecutor. I marched on, heading into the several-story building with a reclaimed bounce to my step.
“I’m leaving the courthouse soon,” Giselle said.
Janine smiled at me as I passed reception. “Don’t forget we’ll be having dinner with the DA tonight.”
“On my radar.”
I started to head up the stairs with my head down. “Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“How would you like me to dress?”
“The gown is on your desk waiting,” I said, thinking of the sleeveless beaded navy-blue halter gown I’d picked for her to wear tonight. Giselle would look stunning in it and with the keyhole neckline, it would be all too irresistible for the DA to not get flirty with her.
But then again, I’d specifically chosen that for her to wear before we learned the news of our recent victory. Regardless, it would still work to my benefit. All part of the plan at keeping my courtroom enemy in check, constantly establishing my prevailing dominance over him.
“Should I prepare for battle?” Giselle could barely conceal her excitement. And that was why we made such a great team. We both loved a good challenge, weren’t afraid to standup and dig in for a good, long, hard fight. And with who we were having dinner with, it was a fair question, too. When dealing with Oscar Buchanan, LA’s toughest District Attorney, anything was possible.
But blood wasn’t in the waters for tonight. No, tonight was about keeping my enemy close—reconnaissance disguised as dinner.
“Keep your armor at home,” I said.
“See you at seven.” Giselle hung up just as a young woman come flying around the corner, leaping down the stairs and slamming directly into the center of my chest.
“Watch where you’re fucking going.” She stumbled backward.
I caught my tongue and got lost in her delicate features. She left me breathless and I couldn’t deny how much I appreciated what I was seeing. The woman was a slender tiger growling at me and I prayed to God she was one of Madam’s girls. “Pardon me,” I said.
She had a dark furrowed brow with fire flaming across her hooded, jade green eyes. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?” She cocked out her hip, clearly used to having things her way.
My eyes traveled down her chest, rounding her slender hips, before landing on the floor, staring at my cell she’d made me drop. “You going to get that for me?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. Her pouty lips vibrated and made me clench my abs. “You’re not even going to apologize?” She gave me an arched look.
“Apologize because you ran into me?” My dick grew heavy with the attitude she tossed in my direction. If she wasn’t careful, I’d be sure to correct her behavior before she lost sight of who she was dealing with.
“If you didn’t have your head down, then you would have seen me coming.”
I lifted my brows and pointed at my phone.
“You’re an asshole.” She tossed her jet-black hair over her shoulder and tried to skirt past me.
I stepped in front of her and she crumbled against me once more. Her nostrils flared as she looked up at me from beneath her brow. I pointed at my phone and got drunk on her intoxicating scent—all fruits and flowers and 100% femininity.
“Fine. Fuck. Whatever.” She bent down, picked up my phone and handed it to me. “There. Are you happy now?”
“Couldn’t be happier.” I tucked the device deep inside my suit jacket pocket and thought that with a little work, this little vixen with an attitude could be trained to obey my every command.
“Now, can I go?”
I stepped to the side and watched her hustle down the stairs until she was out of sight. She had some mouth on her. A mouth that could spout out words unlike any woman I’d met before, and with lips that were pouty enough to fuck. There was little doubt in my mind I had to have her, and I knew just who I needed to ask.
3
Kelly
“Kelly Black.” The Madam smiled as she rounded her desk to hug me. “My favorite criminal defense lawyer.”
“It’s good to see you, Maddy.” We greeted each other with air kisses and an embracing hug.
“Please, Kelly. No one calls me by my first name.”
I took each of her hands, gently squeezing them, and said, “I just ran into one of your girls.” She gave me a questioning look and I hoped that I was right with my assumption.
“Was she nice to you? That one can be a firecracker sometimes.” Her knees pulled together as if embarrassed by how she thought I may have been treated.
“She has quite the mouth on her.” My lips spread as I felt my smile hit my eyes.
Madam frowned. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“She bumped into me as I was heading up.” Madam looked worried. “She called me an asshole.”
Jerome covered his mouth and snickered.
“I do apologize. You know that’s not the culture I promote around here.”
My voice dropped as I couldn’t let it go. “So, she is one of your girls?”
The Madam slipped her hands away from mine, turned her back, and let the tips of her fingers brush over the top of her expansive mahogany desk as she talked. “A new recruit.”
I tipped my head back, rejoicing in
side my head.
“Please, Kelly.” She spun around with a bright glimmer in her eye. “Other than her mouth, what was your first impression of her?”
My tongue wet my lips and when I started to think about her, what she was wearing, how she wanted to kick my ass, my cock twitched and my nerves tingled with excitement. What I was feeling now had been what my life had been missing for far too long. In a split second, I’d come alive. Something about that girl awakened a sense of arousal I hadn’t experienced in what felt like a lifetime. No matter what sexual pursuits I conquered, nothing had me as thrilled as the thought that maybe that woman could soon be mine.
The Madam looked on with a set jaw.
Maybe it was a feeling of having finally met my match. Or perhaps it was having a woman of her size and stature—small and lightweight—challenge a man of my weight and height without an ounce of visible fear. She had my mind reeling with ways I wanted to bend and twist her, bending her strong will into complete submission.
“You can be honest with me,” the Madam continued. “It’s important I know what men of your class perceive in women like that one.”
Images of her legs wrapped around my head as I devoured her sex flashed behind my lids. “Why? Will I be getting a night with her?”
The Madam glanced toward Jerome and he didn’t give any indication for me to form a conclusion as to whether my need to have her was even a possibility. Madam collected some loose papers on her desk, formed a pile, and neatly tucked them inside a manila folder before securely slipping them into an empty sleeve in the drawer of her desk. “She’s been receiving incredible feedback from the clients she’s dated.” The Madam’s eyes glazed over as she stared at nothing in particular on her desk.
I stepped closer, my brows drawing together. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing.” She flashed a quick smile and went back to organizing papers on her desk. But I knew the Madam well enough to know that when she lost her train of thought, it was never nothing. There was something she was hiding. “Please, Kelly. Your opinion is valuable to me,” she pleaded.
With my hands stuffed in my pockets I shrugged and said, “She’s feisty and would be a phenomenal fuck.”
The Madam tipped her chin back and hooted. “Always thinking with your dick.”
“Here. Don’t think that I forgot the reason why I’m stopping by in the first place.” I reached inside my suit jacket pocket, pulled out the envelope she was expecting to receive, and slid it across her desk.
Her strong posture bent when her eyes landed on the envelope. “So it’s true.”
“I’m afraid so.”
She let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not sure I have the strength to see them.”
I stepped forward and took the envelope back. Opening it, I took the liberty of removing the first photograph from the top of the pile. It was important she saw who it was I called her about earlier. I needed answers and knew that the Madam might just have them. “Just tell me if she was one of your girls.”
The Madam squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head.
“I need to know.”
She looked over my shoulder to Jerome and motioned for him to leave. He stepped outside and shut the door after him.
I dangled the photo of the beautiful young blonde in front of Madam’s face. Her eyes teared as she studied the girl’s delicate features. I must have looked at this photo a hundred different times and not once did I not recognize the life—so bright and true—shining in her promising eyes. And I knew that was what the Madam was seeing now, too. “Was she?”
The Madam swallowed hard.
“If she was, your words are safe with me.”
Her eyes rolled up and met my heavy gaze. “Is she the only one, or are there others?”
“She’s the only one I’m aware of.” A grave expression tightened my face. I wasn’t sure if I should be happy that she was the only one and there weren’t more, or sad that all it took was one to forever change the world in which we lived.
“Kelly, if working women are being targeted, you would tell me, right?” The Madam’s arms flexed and she was back to her strong self.
“You’d be the first to know.” My head hung as a part of me deflated just thinking about the possibility of there being others.
The Madam turned to the window and we stood there in silence for a long while before she asked, “Who’s your source?”
“Sylvia Neil.”
She turned her head to look over her shoulder. “The tabloid reporter?”
“That’s the one.” I turned on a heel and stepped toward the door. “Call me if you’re reminded of anything.”
“Kelly,” she twisted so that she was facing me, “take the photos with you.”
I nodded as I reached for the envelope, slipping the photo back inside and stuffing it away in my jacket. “I’ll have them if you need them,” I said, opening the door.
“And Kelly?”
I turned to look at the Madam staring at me with round, protruding eyes. “That woman you bumped into—”
My head tipped back and I held my breath, waiting.
“In case you’re wondering, she’s not for sale.”
4
Kendra
I knew from the box that it was from the Madam. “Thank you,” I said, taking the delivery from the courier and shutting the door to my apartment.
The courier was a new face and I was barely dressed, having heard the knock on my door just as I was stepping out of the shower. With a towel wrapped around my head and a soft, cotton bathrobe draped over my body, I pranced to the door trusting the Madam enough to know she would never send just anybody to my apartment without thoroughly vetting them first. This was my house, an address I didn’t hand out freely. Few people knew where I lived, and I preferred it that way.
I moved to the couch, the cushions sinking beneath my weight, and cursed the Madam when thinking about the conversation we’d had earlier. She needed to open her eyes to what was standing in front of her. My sense of fashion was impeccable and I could only think that her choosing what I wore was a play of power.
The tips of my fingers pinched the cherry red bow, pulling it free.
I shook my head and clucked my tongue, not understanding why every outfit before a date had to be delivered in such a ridiculous box. It was thick, sturdy, and a very pleasant cream color. But its elegance was too much.
But then again, that was the Madam described to a tee. And it was how all my outfits arrived so I might as well get used to it.
A tiny squared note fell onto my glass coffee table. Besides the date card, I never received a note like this, so I read it.
Remember, this is my show. ~Madam
“The bitch needs to get off her high horse,” I mumbled to myself. “And there is no way I’m tossing my closet in the trash. I love my clothes.”
I set the note off to the side, opened the box, and pulled the neatly folded dress out to hold it up in front of me. “Then again, I do like this.” I laughed.
The Madam had chosen a gorgeous ivory laced maxi dress and paired it with a white diamond necklace with matching dangling earrings. It was an angelic combination that was sure to knock whoever my date was on his ass.
Speaking of date, I draped the dress over the box and opened the date card. My mouth tugged into a closed-lip smile as I read where I’d be eating tonight. It was LA’s best steakhouse in the heart of downtown. A tingle of excitement flooded my senses as I couldn’t wait to tell Alex about this one.
My head spun toward my clock near the kitchen and I knew I didn’t have much time to get ready before seven o’clock rolled around.
A flutter rolled through my stomach as the clock ticked down. That was another thing about working for the Madam: there was never enough time between when I received my outfit and when I had to leave to pair the night’s look with the right touch of makeup.
My cell beeped and I quickly checked to see if it was Alex.
I
lowered my head and slinked away when it wasn’t. Alex was the only one I had time for. Well, her and the Madam. But I knew the Madam wouldn’t be calling, and certainly not messaging. She had other ways to communicate and if it was really urgent, she’d be barging in through my front door to speak with me in person.
I gathered my things and went to my bedroom, taking the box with me. Laid out on my bed was what I would have chosen if I had a say in what I wore. No matter how much I didn’t want to admit it, Madam’s dress was the better choice. I hung mine back up in the closet and continued getting ready.
As I did my hair I couldn’t stop thinking about what Madam said about my date tonight.
He’s a powerful man.
He holds great influence over the city.
Most of the men I dated through the Madam were powerful and held influence in a variety of societal spheres. But the way she made it a point of letting me know exactly what to expect, I couldn’t help but think that this one had to be different. And as my mind raced to guess what kind of man he was—the mayor, the police chief, perhaps—my eyes grew wider. I leaned closer to the mirror and whispered, “Him.”
I gasped and blinked a sort of disbelief as I’d nearly forgotten about him—the man who slammed into me coming from Madam’s office.
His dark and somewhat messy hair gave the impression of a beach bum. And so did his sun-kissed skin. But the way his broad shoulders filled his expensive suit had me thinking he was a high-powered executive of some sort. And that wasn’t even mentioning the look in his eye. The look that said he was undressing me and on his way to fucking me. Because that was there too. Right up there against his chiseled features and solid muscles. I crashed into him hard and he didn’t budge, didn’t flinch, just stood there like I was an inconvenience who had gotten in his way.