“We haven't met,” she said, circling him. “I'd been
informed that you were in need of my services.”
Harrold's brow furrowed. What woman provided a service
he needed? What service...?
A light shone behind his eyes just as she said, “Delores
was quite insistent. More than is proper. I had to set her down for that.”
Lynn, for that must be who this woman was, regarded her painted nails. “She
enjoyed that, I think. Would you?” She glanced at Harrold from the corner of
those oddly sparkling eyes.
“Would I what?” He was completely flustered. How had a
whore gotten into this party?
Her palm slapped across his face. It was a sensation he
was familiar with. Many ladies had spurned his advances when he was younger.
However, this woman had a stronger arm than any of them. This pain rivaled that
of the time his cousin had punched him in the jaw for dandling his lady.
“You will pay heed when I speak. Would you enjoy being
reprimanded by me?”
The suggestion alone made him burn. She was the ideal
woman, strong, in complete command, not only of him, but every man at the
party. Her force of presence bested that of most of the men he had met. He
would love to obey her commands, especially if, as he suspected, they were
anything like Delores'.
Her arm moved fast, spinning around to come up between
his legs. He gasped in surprised and then winced as she squeezed him in her
hand. The pain made his eyes water.
“You will not hesitate to answer, either.”
“Y-yes, madam,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Better.” She eased her grip, fondling him, massaging
one nut and then the other before running a finger up his length.
“Despite putting me at such inconvenience, I believe
Delores is right.” She pulled her hand back with a sigh. “Before we go any
further, however, I need you to agree to the following terms.” She pulled up
the drawstring at her belt to access her small purse. Unfolding a square of
paper, she revealed a simple contract.
The below signed agrees to keep the
confidentiality of Blue Moon House and share with no one the activities
therein.
“Isn't it obvious to everyone what happens in a
whorehouse?”
Her heel came down on his instep and he dropped the
contract, hopping on the uninjured foot. “We are not mere whores and do not
expect regular payment. Sign, or we are finished here.” She took a step toward
the door.
“Wait!”
Returning, she slipped two fingers between the buttons
of his fly, holding his erection and stroking it through his pants with her
thumb. “Do you trust me, Mister Long?”
His breath hitched and he leaned closer, his forehead
touching hers. “Yes.”
She smiled and tilted her head to kiss him, her lips not
quite connecting. “You won't be disappointed,” she promised, releasing him to
bend down and retrieve the contract. She made her way to a writing desk. “Sign
and date, please.”
“What is it you need to keep secret?”
“Come to 36 Baker tomorrow night and find out,” she
whispered, breathing in his ear.
He wanted to go there now, wanted to take her on this
desk. He grabbed her and spun, lifting her hips onto the desk edge and pinning
them there with his own.
“You are not in charge,” she reminded him. “I'll permit
this to reward your obedience. Now fuck me, Harrold, and don't come until I
have.”
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