by King Key
Gretel spoke up before the short-lived applause could die completely. “Mr. Leckie couldn’t stay for the meeting.”
A man in the audience bellowed, “Somebody gave him a black eye.”
“Now everyone will say I’m a knockout!” Gretel quipped.
Sidney’s speech had lulled the audience into a desperate need for humor. Gretel’s remark was close enough. So, they laughed in relief. The man who had spoken before declared, “You got that right, honey. I mean, madam secretary. You’re a knockout.”
Gretel lofted the trophy over her head and glared triumphantly into Kurt’s eyes. “This looks so good with my gold dress,” she proclaimed, “I think I’ll keep it!”
The audience roared its approval. Gretel’s obscure bylaw, seemingly harmless when she proposed it a month earlier, and the ruthless way she manipulated the letter of the bylaw to mangle its intent, sank beneath the waves of adulation washing over Gretel. Even Kurt bitterly admired her shrewd forethought and flawless execution of her scheme. Gretel cheated him out of his moment of glory and made it her own, seducing an entire audience in the process.
Scanning the crowd, Kurt saw Honey Bates, the sexy woman whose business acquisition he had arranged. Kurt thought Honey liked him, but she was clapping enthusiastically at Gretel’s triumph. Honey even looked vaguely like an older version of Gretel. When their eyes met, Honey stopped applauding and looked ill at ease. Her demeanor almost said, “Nothing personal, Kurt.” He nodded, as if to say it was OK, and gestured toward the woman who had vanquished him.
But Kurt admired more than Gretel’s flair for chicanery. She looked irresistibly sensual from the first moment he saw her: Her golden outfit, her voluptuous figure, and her haughty poses all elicited his most powerful sexual urges. On the stage, with the spotlight playing her emerald eyes and golden hair to advantage, she looked stunningly beautiful—not always, by any means, the same as sexy. Kurt felt himself inexplicably developing a crush on Gretel! His chronological age may have surpassed hers by seven years, but in maturity she was light years ahead of him.
He cupped his hands around her ear and said loudly enough for her to hear him over the crowd, “Nice coup!”
She cupped her one hand at his ear: “Just starting. Join my team.”
He cupped his hands: “I’m not a team player.”
She responded: “Then be my lackey. Or else.”
He cupped her ear for the last time that night: “Else!” And, smiling as much as he could, he waved to the crowd, walked off the stage, turned, and clapped for Gretel. He offered his applause partly as an empty gesture, but also grudgingly in appreciation of how wickedly crafty she was. Realizing that some people were dividing their attention between Gretel and him, Kurt sat down at a table near the exit. He would leave quietly, after the audience focused on the meeting and turned its attention away from him.
Sidney took the stage again with some Society procedural announcements and other topics that profoundly bored the audience, meaning that Kurt might still be noticed if he tried to sneak away. Kurt felt surprised when Gretel walked over to Honey’s table, and disappointed when the two women greeted each other with a warm hug. So much for considering Honey an ally. Gretel and Honey sat down at the table. Gretel’s speech and gestures became lively, and Honey nodded in agreement. Gretel handed Honey a note card before returning to her table.
Sidney announced the installation ceremony for the society’s new officers. But first he called the outgoing officers, including Gretel as secretary, to join him on stage.
Kurt seized his opportunity to flee. Clambering up the steps to go above board, he welcomed the cold night air. He wished he could get smashing drunk, to escape from the duplicity or indifference of most of the Vanguard Society and soothe the hurt that stung his eyes while he tried to deny it.
Only one problem: Kurt didn’t have his car. He’d have to wait for Jessica. Surely she noticed him leave. Meanwhile, he eased up to the nearest gunwale and stood looking out into the harbor.
A hand softly touched his shoulder.
He froze, remembering the mystery guest at his office. This time he hoped she’d be Jessica instead of Gretel. She was neither.
Dr. Krafft smiled sympathetically. “This has been a difficult night for you.”
“Do you think so?!”
“Can you come to my office tomorrow morning? Ten o’clock? I don’t usually make weekend appointments. But after what you’ve been through…”
“That’s very thoughtful, Dr. Krafft, but this is one of those times when I just want solitude.”
“Sometimes that can be dangerous.”
“Oh!” He gestured to the surrounding water. “You thought I was going to jump. Not a chance! I don’t care to make Sidney and Gretel happy.”
“I wasn’t speaking of physical danger. Besides, Gretel looked happy while you were standing beside her onstage. Almost infatuated.”
“With herself.”
“You two made an attractive couple.”
“Like a cobra and a mongoose. In case you missed it, I was the cobra.”
Another voice sounded out: “There you are,” Jessica said. Acknowledging Dr. Krafft, Jessica added, “Oh, it’s you.”
When Jessica drew near, Kurt said, “Dr. Krafft thinks I should have another counseling session. Tomorrow.”
“Whatever turns you on,” Jessica scoffed. “I’ll wait in the car.” She rushed off. “What’s with you two?” Kurt asked Dr. Krafft.
“Perhaps the lady doth protest too much,” Dr. Krafft smiled.
A creepy feeling made Kurt shiver. “Anyway,” he said, “she’s driving. If I don’t go with her, I don’t have a ride.”
“That settles it,” Dr. Krafft smiled. “Take Jessica’s half-hearted advice. If you like counseling, go for it. Jessica is hardly one of my fans.”
Kurt frowned. “No, I prefer to take it easy tomorrow. Sort out my thoughts—”
“Hello, Kurt,” Gretel called. He would always know her voice now. “Thank you for detaining him, Lila.”
Kurt shot a glance at Dr. Krafft.
Dr. Krafft put her palms up. “I didn’t know Gretel was coming. Honest. You bickered about making an appointment. You could’ve been gone before Gretel arrived.”
“OK,” Kurt said. “Ten o’clock tomorrow. Now, I’m outta here.”
A hand rested on his shoulder, and Kurt cringed at Sidney’s voice: “Glad I caught up with you, my friend.”
“I’m not your friend.” Kurt turned, braced his back against the gunwale, and studied Sidney’s face. Even in the dim light, the colorful veins on Sidney’s nose stood out against his pasty face and marked him as the lush that he was.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dr. Krafft excused herself.
Gretel winked at her. “Didn’t know I was coming? Good one! I knew you wouldn’t blow our cover.” She switched the trophy to her left hand rested her right hand on Kurt’s forearm but continued to face Dr. Krafft. “Thanks again for pinning Kurt down until I got here. Even if you prefer not to take credit.”
“Trust me on this,” Dr. Krafft said to Kurt. “See you tomorrow.”
“Gretel,” Sidney said, “why don’t you see Dr. Krafft to her car?” As soon as the two women left, he turned to Kurt. “Sorry Gretel humiliated you tonight.”
“You probably planned it.”
“Not me!” Sidney’s eyes bulged. “Gretel’s out of control. You and I need to talk.”
“No thanks. I’m straight.”
Sidney sniffed, “Don’t flatter yourself. Just because I’m gay, that doesn’t mean I like all men.”
Kurt smiled in spite of himself. “I see your point. I’m heterosexual, but I don’t like all women. Sill, you and I don’t have anything to talk about.”
“First, I can offer you a job—”
“No thanks.”
“Second, we need to figure out how to deal with Gretel.”
“Poor Sidney! Is she picking on you?”
�
�Laugh if you want to. Gretel has an uncanny knack for pushing a man’s hot buttons until he’s at her mercy.” Sidney saw Gretel returning up the gangplank. “Bring you a drink?” he asked.
Kurt shook his head, No.
“Give me a call,” Sidney advised while retreating.
Gretel seemed to size up the situation when she approached Kurt and looked into his eyes. She gripped his arm tightly. “Regardless of what you think of Sidney and me, we have a lot of influence in Baltimore. Let us help you.”
“So now you’re a philanthropist?”
“More like a philanderer,” she admitted. “So I embarrassed you tonight.” She brandished the award in his face. “You had it coming. But don’t let your feelings interfere with business. Give Chimera a try. If you don’t like the work or the money, you can move on.”
Kurt’s remaining ounce of self-respect overcame his lust. “You are frigging unreal! Sidney’s a snake in the grass. You’re extremely sharp. I’ll hand you that. But you have no scruples. You humiliated me tonight, and you expect me to work with you!”
“Work for me, not with me,” Gretel corrected him. She stretched her arms behind her back, and Kurt ached to climb her and release all the tension between them. His agitation amused her. “Are you too proud? No,” she answered her own question. “Too vain.” Provocatively, she added, “You’re too much of a sissy to get down and dirty with us.”
“Down and dirty? Any time, anywhere. Just leave Sidney out.”
“Stop dodging the issue. You talk about scruples. That’s just your excuse. You don’t have the guts to plunge into the realities of life, at work or in bed.”
“I’d like to plunge into you. But you couldn’t leave it at that. You always tangle work and sex together. I couldn’t just screw you and be on my merry way. A piece of your tail is always going to cost dearly. Money. Career. God knows what else.”
“Whatever I can take from you. I’ll ride you and make you forget the cost.”
“I’d still have to pay the cost.”
“You’re good for cheap thrills, Kurt. Like tonight. I almost came in my pantyhose when I stole your trophy. You liked it, too. With proper training, you’ll become addicted to me.”
“You are so full of yourself! Where do you get your megalomania?”
“From the lust in your eyes. I get a super rush when you resist me. Because the struggle deepens my gratification when I shaft you. I want it to be physical. And I get what I want.”
Kurt wanted it, too. He wanted to screw Gretel and find out if the actual, carnal ecstasy of coupling with her could possibly match the sublime sexual expectations she aroused in him. Instead, he tried to escape. “Jessica is waiting for me.”
Gretel arched her eyebrows. “Hot date?”
“Hot coffee, maybe. We’re meeting at Barnes and Noble. First, she’ll drop me off at the office to pick up my car.”
Gretel’s face brightened, as if she had an inspiration. “Let Jessica go ahead. Meet her at Barnes and Noble. My driver can take you to your car.”
“Is his name Bruiser?”
Gretel frowned. “How’d you know?”
“The security guard at the office remembered you two.”
“When Bruiser ransacked your office?”
“You’re so deceitful. Don’t make Bruiser the fall guy.”
“You and your scruples. Do you want a ride or not?”
Minutes later Gretel and Kurt stood by Jessica’s car. She rolled the window down.
Kurt said, “Gretel has volunteered her driver to take me to my car. I’ll meet you at the bookstore. You can browse through the bestsellers.”
“Nice of her. So unlike Gretel,” she said, “I’ll meet you there.” She rolled her window up and drove away.
Gretel and Kurt hurried to the black Lincoln. “Take us to BizMart,” she told Bruiser.
“Us?” Kurt repeated. “You said your driver. I didn’t know you were coming, too.”
“Do you mind?” she asked scathingly. “It’s my car!”
When Bruiser got out, Gretel handed him the trophy. “Put this in the trunk for now,” she said.
“What about Sidney?” Kurt asked. “He’s too tipsy to drive.”
“He’s a grown man. Besides, why do you care what happens to Sidney?”
“I’ll get the door,” Kurt told Bruiser. He opened the door for Gretel. While Bruiser got behind the wheel, Kurt mused, “I should’ve gone to Barnes and Noble with Jessica. She could’ve dropped me off at the office after coffee.”
Gretel got into the car and slid over to make room for Kurt. “If you really wanted to be with her, you would have gotten in her car in the first place.” She patted the space beside her. After Kurt sat down and closed the door, Gretel moistened her lips and said huskily, “Now I’ve got you!”
Chapter Thirteen
Rampant Passions
Gretel’s and Kurt’s lips surged together, and their fusion simultaneously released a day’s worth of pent-up emotions and fueled a new eruption from dormant to volcanic. Kurt’s hands roamed all over Gretel, delaying contact with her hot spots until later, because he hungered first for the simple touch of her flesh and the unique sensation of her soft, curvy warmth beneath the slickness of her dress.
Gretel gripped his head tightly in her gloved hands, ensuring her absolute, tangible possession of her prisoner of love, binding him tighter to her with his own passion. She wanted to feel the complexity of his skin—the firm muscles and softly vulnerable spots—with her ungloved, sensitive fingers. But Gretel intuitively knew her gloves visually intrigued Kurt and symbolized the upper class status and untouchable elegance that put him in his place: under her thumb. More important, the sight of her gloves insinuated robbery and deception that acted as an aphrodisiac for Kurt. Gretel connected with the sensation of her gloves as a fetish to snatch Kurt’s spirit, provoking his zeal and intensifying his subjugation to her—speeding up the process of enslaving him.
Gretel’s thick, wet, wonderfully responsive lips drew Kurt to her irresistibly. He knew he was past the point of no return. Gretel would completely own his soul or destroy it—her choice. His rebellious streak would prompt him toward escape, but he’d always come crawling back to this uniquely dynamic, sensual woman. Even in his extreme bliss, Kurt felt his willpower draining out of him and into Gretel, and he rejoiced in her pure domination of his soul—especially if yielding to Gretel let him join her lips, her body, and her mind. She already had his heart. Love or infatuation? The intensity of Kurt’s feelings obliterated the distinction.
Gretel sensed her power over Kurt saturating his consciousness while his opposition to her haughty decadence ebbed dramatically. Melding with the sensation of his normal, masculine hunger, the subtle indications of Kurt’s total, abject surrender to her roused Gretel throughout her body. Her deferred pleasure could have dissipated into anticlimax, but Gretel’s euphoria in conquering Kurt soared to poignant delight. When she doled out future sexual favors to addict Kurt further to her, she could live the ecstasy, too, not just whip him with her pussy.
Gretel envisioned decades of fulfilling her urges at Kurt’s expense, bleeding him of every resource she could inveigle out of him, especially his dignity, exhausting every last ounce of his potential, leaving him spent at her feet. But she hoped he’d possess enough stamina to continue sacrificing his vitality and financial assets to her incessantly—to continually fill to the brim her fountain of vitality. Gretel dared to dream that she could pervert Kurt’s will to make him swindle others as adroitly as she. But she’d inculcate peerless dedication to self-sacrifice in him so that he’d graciously lay his ill-gotten gains at her feet with eternal gratitude for letting him be her tool. If Kurt could meet all of Gretel’s exacting demands, she might keep him, along with her true love.
Kurt reached under her and took her ass in his hands. Gretel liked the feeling of his fingers kneading her derriere; Kurt felt reckless glee in grasping her rump. But Gretel thrilled to Kurt’s r
eactions: his deranged grunts and frenetic movements. His spastic loss of control filled her with mirth and a jolt of apprehension: What if Kurt lost all restraint? Gretel controlled him, but the uncertainty added edginess to her sexual sensations.
Gretel wondered what key she needed to unlock Kurt—and lock him back up so that he would be hers alone. She hoped she could undo him and keep him safe from other female predators as easily as she manipulated Casper, Sidney, and Rich.
Kurt lifted Gretel’s ass off the seat and tried to mount her. “No, let’s go to your office,” she said. “I might dry-hump you if you behave and I feel like it.”
He looked like an eager little boy. “Thank you, Gretel.” He showered her face, neck, and ears with wet kisses.
Erotic feelings stirred faintly within Gretel when Kurt’s lips touched her neck and ears. She took his head in her hands again and pressed her lips to his. He eased back, paradoxically soothed by her aggression.
What was Kurt’s secret? His attraction to shiny dresses and gloves encouraged Gretel. Her own tastes in seductive apparel often led her to squirm into tight, shiny dresses showcasing her breasts, derriere, and legs—such as her figure-enhancing gold dress. What else did Kurt like? Girdles and stockings? Not likely, but who could tell? Pantyhose? Bras and panties? Boots, high heels, or just plain bare feet?
She tried the direct approach. “Like my dress?” she asked.
“Wild about it! Shows off your splendid body. Completely feminine and elegant.” He slid closer and hugged her.
At least he could hug. His chest pressed against hers, nipples to nipples, unlike Sidney or Casper, who led with their shoulders and barely touched her with the rest of their bodies.
Gretel mentally returned to the riddle of undoing Kurt. Her clothes lured him on. What early sexual imagery imprinted itself so strongly in Kurt’s psyche that he’d always fall for traps that repeated those scenarios?
Kurt slipped his hand down to Gretel’s thigh and rubbed gently. When his fingers crept between her thighs and inched under her dress, Gretel allowed his encroachment. Her pantyhose would impede his attempts to arouse her.