Authors: Laura Bailey
Damien was in the office by 6am, after a work out at the gym. He had slept only fitfully. He was working on plans for a new security contract when Todd burst in without knocking.
“Boss, we got him.”
“Mike?”
“Yep. Down in Tijuana.”
“The money?”
“Got it. It was in a St Lucia bank! It’s now back in yours.”
Damian sat back, relief flooding his face. Despite the fact that he was extremely wealthy from his business, it had been more the risk to his reputation that he had been most concerned about, and now he was satisfied to know it remained intact.
“Todd. I knew why I’d never let you go and work for anyone else.” He stood gripping Todd’s hand, shaking it. “You are quite simply the best. Thank you.”
“Anytime!” Todd grinned.
“And where’s Mike now?”
“Ah...he won’t be going anywhere for a very long time. I hear the Prison system in Mexico is not the most welcoming.”
“Just clarify one thing for me Todd. The fiancée, Tara. Did she have anything to do with it? When you got hold of Mike what did he say about her?”
“There was no implication from him that she had anything to do with it; and at the time of questioning, quite honestly, I think he would have been happy to implicate anyone else if he could have squirmed out of it.”
“Who helped him in this?”
“It points to Sabre.”
“You’re kidding,” although he knew Todd wasn’t and it kind of made sense. Damien and Marc Chambers, CEO of Sabre Security, had a long history; it went way back to their time in the Special Forces and a long standing rivalry. That was fine. He would deal with it, in his own way. Todd left him to his thoughts. Sitting, ruminating, considering how to play it with Chambers, he felt suddenly deflated; hollow. It was over. Done. The chase was ended, but much more than that, he no longer had reason to see Tara. He would meet her still; but to tell her things were resolved. He sat, planning his course of action against Chambers, understanding what he was going to do. That gave him something to focus on, it gave him some satisfaction to have someone to go after, but even that had none of the thrill he had experienced in the last few days with Tara. He needed her guilt, her lack of remorse.
After spending a listless afternoon, he drove to the Club. She was waiting for him up in the room. Opening the door, he saw her lying on the bed. She was wearing a short cream dress. He drew breath at the sight of her. God he wanted her. He stood, choosing not to get too close.
“We got him. He’s not coming back. He exonerated you completely. You are released from the contract. You are free.”
She didn’t move; her deep blue eyes staring at him, serious, as she processed the information, thinking.
“You have no need to remain here.”
“I need you to fuck me.”
He stood, stock still, stunned at what she had just said.
“Do what you want with me. Use me for your desires.”
He remained silent, unmoving.
She raised the dress up her legs and further, over her hips; she brought her knees up, spread her legs open, blatantly exposing herself to him.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You signed the contract too.”
“But I have the money back.”
“The thing is,” she said, a sly smile on her face, “After you gave it to me, I read the Contract, thoroughly, and no-where does it stipulate the actual reason for the contract. The only words in it are that I am to be available to you always, to satisfy your every sexual desire. That I am to do whatever it is you desire sexually. That is why I am doing this. We have a Contract and you signed it. There is no get out clause. As you said, and to quote you, ‘It will take a lot of commitment from both of us.’ And so I ask you now, is there anything you would like to do to me, sexually, now?
Damien looks at her, processing what she is really saying to him. She is giving herself to him, for the duration.
“Yes.” He replies, “I want to fuck the living daylights out of you.”