Working It Out (4 page)

Half an hour later, she let herself into her shared flat. Tara was finishing a mug of coffee.

‘Good heavens,’ she exclaimed. ‘Where have you been and where did you get that stunningly sexy outfit. I haven’t seen it before, have I? God, you can’t seriously intend wearing it to work. You’ll be leapt on before you get past reception. Now, if I remember correctly, we have a bet that is about to start.’

Shoanna smiled at her friend. After the night she had just spent, she doubted she could last till evening before she felt her needs once more. Maybe £200 would soon mean very little to her. 

Chapter Four

Work provided the singularly most boring morning she could remember. Her concentration was lost somewhere between the street battle she had won and the intensity of the most exciting night she had ever spent.

‘So, where are you today, Shoanna?’ Joely, one of her colleagues, asked.

‘Somewhere between here and paradise,’ she replied dreamily.

‘And here we thought you were grieving for the loss of the Italian stud.’

‘Was I? I think Greek may be more my style now. Or part Greek. Whatever he is, I’m in lust. Andreas sounds Greek, doesn’t it?’

‘I can’t keep up with you. It was Misery City here last week. Good to see you smiling again, anyway, but even better if you did some work along with it.’

‘Sorry. I might be starting on a new career, though. Something dramatic and exciting. Computers and office work don’t provide the same sort of thrills any more.’

‘Let me know if there are any more opportunities. Sounds interesting.’ Joely went back to her desk, shaking her head at her friend’s words. Shoanna had a reputation of being someone who enjoyed extremes, and nobody knew whether to believe all she said, or even everything the various office males said about her. It might be interesting to find out what she had meant by those latest enigmatic words. Probably something and nothing.

Shoanna’s mind was very far away from this working office. By lunchtime, she was ready to quit. Dare she risk it after just one evening of thrills and promises?

She was starving and went to the pub next door, where she met up with several of her colleagues.

‘So, what’s all this about a new career?’ one of the geeks asked.

‘Oh, just an idea at the moment. Nothing fixed yet.’

‘Come home with me and I’d be delighted to discuss it with you personally,’ said another.

‘Thanks for the offer but I’ll have to take a rain check. So, what’s good to eat today?’

She tucked into a large portion of steak and kidney pie and followed it with a pudding. After all, the energy she had expended last night more than made up for the extra calories. And she might also need extra energy reserves for the night ahead. She shivered in anticipation. Maybe she needed to think a little about the role she expected to play. Last night, she had been willing to accept the thrill of what Andreas called punishments. Sexual torture in a way, but she’d loved every minute of it. She found herself getting wet as she sat there, and had to excuse herself from her colleagues.

‘Sorry. See you later. Gotta go now. Need more shoes’

‘You look as if you’ve got a hot date, judging by your expression.’ One of the guys laughed.

‘You’ve no idea,’ she called back as she left the pub. She did need more shoes. Her heel had broken the previous evening, hadn’t it? What better excuse for some retail therapy?

She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes before she was due back at her desk. Plenty of time. The trouble was one pair wasn’t enough, and her credit card maxed out with the three pairs she had chosen.

‘I hate being stuck on a budget,’ she moaned to the store girl serving her.

‘Take one pair and I’ll reserve the others till your next pay day.’

‘Great. But now I have to decide which to take and which to leave.’ By the time that decision was reached, she was 20 minutes late. Her supervisor, a crusty middle-aged woman, prematurely grey and with a naturally sour expression, was waiting by the door with a grim look on her face.

‘Miss Waites. You are 20 minutes late. It’s the fourth time in the last week you have been late. It won’t do. This is your last and final warning. One more and you’re out.’

‘Sorry,’ Shoanna muttered. ‘I had a meeting. With my bank manager. Very important. He kept me waiting.’ The supervisor glanced at her expensive shopping bag.

‘So I see. Last chance.’ Shoanna stuck out her tongue as she turned away, wondering if she should take the  risk of resigning. ‘And you can stop pulling that expression. You forget there’s a mirror over here.’

Shoanna managed a slight blush of embarrassment. She stowed her bag under the desk and attempted to concentrate on working. The trouble was a vision of Andreas’ beautiful body and not half bad face floated in front of her screen. Would she see him that evening? He hadn’t suggested a date. In fact – she froze with horror. Had he even got her phone number? He knew roughly where she lived when he dropped her off that morning. But would he know which flat it was? Would he bother to pursue her? She hadn’t even noticed where his house was when he’d driven her back.

All these thoughts made concentration impossible and, at the end of the day, she had accomplished less than half her target. Old Sour Face would complain bitterly but, hopefully, not before tomorrow, by which time she might have formulated her other plans for the future. All that providing Andreas contacted her again.

‘What are you up to this evening?’ Tara asked.

‘Dunno. You?’

‘I might go to Stacey’s. What do you think?’

‘Not sure.’ If she was honest, she didn’t want Andreas to think she was chasing him. If he owned the club, the chances were he would be there at some point during the evening. Though she was desperate to see him again, if he was there, he would also meet Tara, and she was not yet ready to share him with her flatmate. ‘No, I don’t fancy Stacey’s. Had a late night last night so maybe I’ll just stay home.’

‘Good grief. You’re taking our bet seriously, aren’t you?’

‘You might think so. Actually, no. OK, so I realise I’ll owe you, but it was a ridiculous idea.’ She could already feel herself getting wet at the memory of her previous night’s excesses. There were so many things she could look forward to trying, and waiting for however long their own ridiculous bet would last was nigh on impossible.

‘Tell me about last night,’ Tara demanded. ‘Obviously he was someone special. And those strips of leather he sent you home with were something else. So brief, they must have cost a fortune. Any other kinky ideas in his world?’

‘Just a few. Million.’

‘So when are you seeing him again?’

‘Actually, that’s the problem. I didn’t give him my contact details.’

‘Not like you.’

‘Nothing last night was quite like me. Well, not quite like anything I’ve done before.’

‘That’s rich coming from you, who’s probably tried things most other people haven’t thought of.’

‘Nasty. I’m not that different to you.’

‘Oh, you are. So were you in charge or submissive?’

‘Mixture. Well, in charge to start with, but then I laid back and enjoyed being dominated. Oh Tara, he’s just gorgeous. Body to die for. Ideas to make you come just looking at him.’

‘And he can provide all the leather enough even for you, I gather.’

‘What makes you think leather is my turn-on?’

‘The way you were caressing yourself when you came home. Go and try it on again. I’m fascinated by the cut and how little of you it covers. I mean to say, who designed that bit of nonsense? And why did he have it available for you?’

Shoanna said nothing but went to her room and put on the leather skirt, if it could be called that, then added the waistcoat. She left her thong on, slightly shy even in front of her flatmate.

‘Wow. Ridiculous.’

‘It’s so soft it’s like a second skin.’

‘Certainly fits where it touches, but that’s not often. I can feel another dare coming on. How about wearing it out to a club?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Do it and I’ll let you off the bet which you have surely lost already.’

‘He wouldn’t like it. I get the feeling this was for his private enjoyment only.’

‘So why did he give it to you?’

‘Had to wear something to get home. My dress got ruined. You’re right. I am turned on by leather. This smells gorgeous and feels great against the skin.’ She ran her fingers over the smooth top, making her own nipples harden. She slipped her fingers closer to her crotch.

‘
Pleease
. At least go to your room to do that. I don’t want to watch.’

‘Why not? Does it shock you?’

‘Me? Not at all. Just jealous. After what I expected to be a hot date, I only got off with some youth who didn’t know one end of his dick from the other. Not that I got anywhere near his dick. But he was a good dancer and I enjoyed that part of the evening.’

‘So you didn’t get fucked senseless, after all?’

‘Nope. I’m going out,’ Tara said suddenly. ‘I’m just wasting time staying here.’

She went to her room to change while Shoanna went to her own room to alleviate the desire coursing through her body. Her vibrator was much less effective than usual and her clit felt tender and almost sore. It was more wonderful agony to touch it, and she found herself longing for Andreas to contact her.

Tara went out and Shoanna lay on the sofa, still clad in her leather outfit. When ten o’clock arrived, she was resigned to a totally quiet evening and decided to go to bed, even if wasn’t the bed she would have liked to be in. The doorbell rang and she jumped. Who on earth was calling at that time of night? She went to answer it and realised she was practically indecent to the rest of the world. She peered through the spy hole and saw one of Andreas’s young men. The ones she had dismissed in her street fight last night. She put the safety chain across and opened the door a crack, peering round.

‘The boss wants to see you. Assuming you’re not otherwise engaged.’

‘The boss?’ she asked, her heart leaping out of control.

‘Andreas. He was busy, so he sent me to collect you.’

‘How can I believe you? You could be calling on me so you can get your own back after I beat you last night.’

‘Suit yourself, lady. But if you don’t want to come, don’t expect to hear from him again.

Shoanna bit her lip. She was desperate to see him but was she being naive? Had he really sent this bloke to collect her, or was he out for himself?’

‘He said to wear the leather number you left with this morning. But I think that’s exactly how you’re dressed at present. He’d like to see you just how he left you. Says you’ll know exactly what he meant.’

‘Give me a minute,’ she said decisively. She shut the door. Took off the damp thong and picked up her bag. At least she’d have her mobile with her if things did get nasty. ‘OK. I’m ready,’ she told her escort.

‘Nice,’ he said appreciatively. ‘I can see why he wants you. Gonna sit in the front, by me?’

‘Rather sit at the back.’

‘You know he’ll have left you his bar available, I suppose. Help yourself.’

‘Thanks. Maybe.’ She wanted to keep her eyes on the direction they took, just in case she ever needed to find Andreas’s place again. But the windows were so dark she could see very little out of them. She had made a mistake. She should have sat in the front after all. There was a screen between her and the driver which also blotted out the view. She saw the bar, which was let into the front seat, and opened it. A small bottle of champagne awaited her. Somehow, it had been chilled and was at a perfect temperature. She popped the cork and poured the golden liquid into a flute. She spilled a little between her breasts when they jolted over a bump. The cold shock set her tingling again with anticipation for what might lie ahead.

The screen dropped, and her driver announced they had arrived.

‘I’ll open the door for you. Might as well enjoy the view.’ He opened the door and stood staring as she got out. She had no choice, and hoped he didn’t try to touch her as she passed him. Clearly, though, he knew better than to do anything to incur the wrath of his boss.

The imposing house had a long drive, the gates hidden by a high shrubbery. The main door opened as she walked towards it and there, looking totally gorgeous, stood Andreas. Her fantasy of the previous night was fulfilled. He was wearing a dinner jacket and black tie, his slightly too long hair curled over the collar and black as coal

The dark eyes raked over her body.

‘Just as I remembered. Beautiful. Come in. I assume you haven’t had dinner yet?’

‘I haven’t. Thank you. I must admit I wasn’t sure I’d see you tonight. I’d given up on you, as it’s rather late.’

‘For me, it’s still early. I was working,’ he said. ‘I’ve laid out some clothes for you. Something suitable for a good dinner.’

She thrilled at the thought of what he might have in mind and followed him into a large bedroom. She’d have liked to have him as a starter rather than food but she knew that would never be on his mind. He liked to tease and tantalize too much.

‘I’ll help you. These garments are usually worn with a maid to assist you with dressing, so I hope I will be a suitable substitute. Then I can imagine what’s underneath as we eat.’

She stared at the long gown laid out on the bed. There was a corset beside it. A pale blue object with laces and extensive boning. It looked far too small for her, but she knew better than to object.

Andreas unclasped the waistcoat and unzipped the pussy pelmet that doubled as a skirt. She stood naked, her every fibre longing to be touched, caressed, nipped – anything. He ignored all of her and held out the corset for her to step into. He turned her round and began to pull in the lacing at the back. It was cut so that her breasts rested on the top of a shallow piece of lace and, as he tightened the laces, he pulled in her waist and she gained a shape that reminded her of pictures from the past. She could scarcely move, and once more found herself growing wet at the feeling of being restricted this way. He turned her round and smiled approvingly.

‘Very nice. Now the dress.’ He held it up and she stepped into it. It had a deep, plunging neckline that exposed not only her cleavage but almost left her entire breasts visible. A long line of tiny buttons closed the back and he seemed to take an endless time fastening them all. Waste of time, she was thinking. The soft, blue silk creation clung to her newly contained figure; it felt almost as sexy as her leather outfits. ‘How do you like the new image?’

‘Surprising. Different. Unexpected, from you. But I feel very turned on.’

‘I’d like a slightly more formal hairdo to complete the picture. Can you manage that?’ He handed her a clip that seemed to be studded with diamonds. She took it and examined it closely.