I nodded, not meeting his eye.
‘You can still back out.’
I shook my head, not meeting his gaze.
‘Fair enough.’ He shrugged, opening the office door. ‘Then, let play commence.’
Thirty Eight
Him
By the time we reached the playroom, I was already regretting my outburst. I’d been stewing on that interview all day, and I’d just lost it. It showed how much I felt for her – it was a point of honour for me, never to lose my composure. I’d just dishonoured myself, and her with it.
It wasn’t even about her public profile, if I was honest with myself. That was all true, but it was just something to focus my hurt on. The real issue was the tears. I’d never expected her to cry over Sparkes. He wasn’t worth it, and I’d just assumed she knew that. It’d never occurred to me that she might still care for him.
As I went to turn the handle, I paused and turned to her. It was her last chance for redemption, in my eyes. ‘Are you completely set on this?’
She looked back at me, expressionless, and nodded.
I opened the door and she stood there, looking in. It was all set out and ready, the men already in place and a bar in the corner, which had been brought in for the occasion. I’d made that decision. It was a nod to the F Bar, where I’d saved her from herself once before, and it seemed appropriate.
It certainly appeared to please her.
She turned and smiled at me and went to walk in. When I didn’t follow, she turned back to me.
‘Aren’t you...?’
‘Coming in?’ I almost laughed and shook my head. ‘Absolutely not, Miss Anderton. This is your fantasy. It certainly isn’t mine.’
As I pushed the door shut, she was still looking out at me, her eyes wide – her expression unreadable.
Thirty Nine
Her
As he closed the door, another door was closing too. I knew that. He’d shut down on me completely, and this was probably the last time I’d ever see him, apart from as one of Max’s clients. It was probably just as well. He was married, after all, and I had enough problems without getting involved in something like that. Besides, I’d been right all along…he was an arrogant dick. I’m your agent, for Christ’s sake, just as if he owned me.
I turned to look around me. It was the same room as before, but the bar in the corner, and the scattered groups of chairs, gave it a whole different feel – almost like a real nightclub. It was a nice touch – I’d give him that. He might not have liked me, but he’d still put in the effort.
There were seven guys in there, four sitting down, two at the bar and one, the one who’d been videoing the time before, behind the bar. A few of them were good looking, but the rest were just ordinary, including one older man, with a receding hairline. They were all looking at me, and I felt awkward and out-of-place. I didn’t know what to do so, after a few moments hesitation, I did the only thing I could think of – I went to the bar.
All the guys turned to watch me walk over there – well, they were bound to. They’d paid for the privilege. The thought alone made me feel dirtier than I’d ever felt in my life. I wasn’t much more than a prostitute now, and the thought made me feel even more uncomfortable.
‘Something for the lady?’ said one of men at the bar, looking me up and down.
‘Uh…a glass of champagne, please,’ I said, my thoughts returning to the scene I’d watched the Friday before.
‘Oh, expensive tastes,’ said the other guy. ‘I wouldn’t have expected a girl like you to be so discerning.’
I flushed and took the glass that the barman offered me, gulping down half the contents in one hit. This was actually real, and they were really treating me like a slut.
‘Why don’t you come and sit over with us,’ he continued. ‘I’m sure you’ll be most…entertaining company.’
I smiled nervously and followed him over to one of the tables, where the other men were already sitting, glasses of lager in their hands.
‘Hey, Princess,’ said a blond guy, putting his drink down. ‘Come and sit on my lap.’
He was really quite good looking, but the Princess made me shudder. It reminded me of that night at Liv’s, with Leo. I wondered what he’d have made of it, if he could see me now. Well, I knew. He’d kill me, no doubt about it. How the hell had I gone from him, to…this?
I perched on the blond guy’s knee, and took another sip of my champagne as he ran his hand across my thigh.
‘What’s your name, sweetheart?’ he said.
‘Grace,’ I said. ‘It’s Grace.’
‘Lovely soft skin,’ he said, smiling round at the others. ‘I wonder what it’s like further up?’
He started to push his hand up inside my skirt and I tensed up.
‘Relax, honey,’ he crooned. ‘You won’t have any fun, if you don’t learn to lighten up a little.’
I did my best to switch off from the thoughts that were plaguing me, and enjoy the feeling of his hand, as it ran up my thigh. It was cold, and slightly wet, from the drink he’d been holding, and it made my skin tingle under his touch.
A guy with reddish hair came and stood at my shoulder.
‘Don’t keep her all to yourself,’ he said, running his fingers through my hair. ‘Let the rest of us get a look-in.’
‘Of course,’ said the blond guy. ‘I’m sure she doesn’t want to get exclusive, do you darling?’
I shook my head slightly. ‘No.’
‘Good girl.’
He didn’t move his hand from where it was, but shifted the chair out with his foot, leaning forward as he did so. As the chair moved, his fingers pushed inside my thighs and bumped against my clit. The thrill of their touch sent a surge of pleasure between my legs that was almost electric and, for a split second, I thought I was going to lose myself, after all, in the moment. But then it died again. It was like an engine stalling on start-up. One minute it was there…then…gone.
When he was settled again, he pushed his fingers in further towards my clit, pulling my thigh sideways with his other hand until my legs were spread wide.
The older man was standing back slightly, observing proceedings with a thoughtful eye.
‘Lift up your skirt, Grace,’ he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.
I did as I was bidden woodenly, pulling it up across my thighs and over my hips, until it was in a bunch around my waist.
‘There’s a good girl.’ He came closer. ‘Now let’s see those tits. Pull your straps down.’
I pulled my straps down over my upper arms, until they snagged at my elbow.
‘All the way down, Grace.’
I pushed my elbows out of the straps as instructed and, as I did so, the top of my dress slumped down, revealing my breasts. I had no bra on – it was a sartorial impossibility with this neck-line.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ said one of the other guys, sounding awed. ‘Let me get a piece of that.’
They crowded round me and, bending forward, started to toy with my nipples, moving the chair I was on around further. There were hands all over me, but I felt nothing from their touch but a dull prodding.
‘I’m going to enjoy this one,’ another guy said. I couldn’t tell who it was, but he was behind me. ‘Christ, the Boss has picked us a winner here.’
The Boss? So he paid them? Did these guys work for him? Oh my God, these were actual people with lives. These weren’t faceless figures in a fantasy. They had feelings and thoughts…and they thought I was a slut. They’d be talking about me afterwards, and I’d be nothing but a cheap whore that had let them use her for their pleasure.
‘You’re getting ruined, slut,’ the blond guy whispered in my ear, as he pulled my panties aside and began to rub at my numb and naked clit. ‘Make no mistake about it.’