Hers (2 page)

“So, I take that you are pleased with all the details of the purchase. Why don't you go ahead and give me your John Hancock on a couple of these papers, and we will schedule the board meeting for two days from now, say Friday morning bright and early.” I pull the last contract out of my folder, sliding it across the desk while pointing at the two X's that need his signature with my mint colored nails. The old man pulls an expensive pen out of his breast pocket, under his black blazer and scribbles his name down in both places. I let out a small sigh of relief. It was too easy, like taking candy from a baby.

“I've been looking to offload these shares for years, Ms. James. I just need to hang up my hat and retire. Thank you for helping me finally give it all up. You be good to Daniel Alexander, he is a good businessman.” He slowly rises from the chair, probably the fastest his old body would allow him anymore. Extending his arm in my direction, I shake with vigor before reassuring him.

“I will be sure to take care of Mr. Alexander. Thank you for being such a gracious businessman Mr. Stern.” I flash him a million dollar smile. Or maybe I should say a sixty million dollar deal, because in all seriousness, that is how much this merger just cost. When it comes down to it, this old man just made my career. I should probably drop to my knees and suck his wrinkly old dick in thanks. On second thought, I think I just fucking vomited in my mouth.

“You have a good day, Mr. Stern. Say hello to Kay for me.” And like that, the old man walks out of the office, closing the door behind him. I listen to his footsteps making their way to the elevator as I celebrate quietly in my office. Kicking off my heels I jump into the air with a fist pump before completing the celebration by doing the humpty dance. Tonight calls for a fucking celebration. Sliding my pumps back on, I stroll behind my desk and pick up my phone. Thumbing through the contacts on my iPhone screen I come to my best friend, and occasional fuck buddy Star.

Seven and Star, what a fucking pair. Our hippy dippy parents had been friends, more like swingers our entire lives. I can't even tell you how many times as teenagers we found them in gross compromising positions. She had also been the only person I could rely on my entire life. Our bond went beyond a special brand of
sisterhood
. The fact that we dabbled in a little muff diving together was probably the least of the issues our parents bestowed upon us. Opening a text message I typed out the plans for the night.

Sealed the deal bitch! See you at Sinners and Swingers at 7. We celebrate.

Tossing my cell onto the desk I pick up the phone and dial Olivia's extension again. This time, my bi-polar self is much nicer. I am sure the poor girl is probably scared shitless to answer her line when she sees me calling. “Yes, Ms. James?”

“Livie, Love. Can you order me one of those delish chicken wraps from that little place on the corner, you know... the one with the honey mustard.” I could be speaking Russian, and she would know exactly what I needed. Which is why I paid her the big bucks. “Sure, anything to drink?”

“Just grab me a bottle of Mountain Dew. While you are gone, stick Derek at your desk. No one else on the floor is worth a shit at taking messages. Oh, and I am out of the office for the rest of the day if anyone else calls.” I placed the phone back down on the receiver, and started finishing up all the leftover paperwork to send down to the legal department. Such a damn load off my overflowing plate.

Sinners and Swingers isn't your typical bar. Honestly, I don't think the club would consider itself a bar at all. Most kink clubs in New York City serve alcohol, but all keep strict limits on the amount they serve to the patrons, rightfully so. I make my way into the club donning a white tank top, bright red leather pants, and black stiletto heels. My long hair flows freely around my face, coming to an end somewhere around ass. I carefully made up my features with a hint of dark smoky makeup and my signature bright red lipstick. Everyone here knows me, I have been a staple to this club since my twenty-first birthday. An ex-fling brought me here hoping to interest me in a threesome. People here know me as Mistress Marilyn, not Seven.

I sit my ass down on the cheap black barstool and nod to Rex, the bartender. A smile spreads across his face as he ignores everyone else to tend to me. Flattering, he gives me a big head.

“Well, well, well! What do we have here? Mistress Marilyn, where have you been?” A seductive smile rakes across his face while he licks his lips, zeroing in on my tits. “Oh, ya know. The real world. Gotta make that money, Rex.” He nods, and ignores the others looking for booze. “Why don't you get me a shot of Jameson and a bottle of Sam Adams?” Without a second thought he turns to the bar and works on my request. I turn around, eyeing the great room to see what kind of trouble I can get myself into for the night.

It has been a good month since I have had an evening to myself at Sinners and Swingers, and I want to make the most of it. Maybe I will get real lucky and have Star join me for the night. Just as my blonde BFF enters my mind, she enters the room. Quickly snaking through the dancing bodies.

That is when I notice him, Evan. He is holding onto Star's hand for dear life, and she is dragging him along like a love struck puppy dog. I guess I won't be getting my fill of her perfect pink pussy tonight. I try not to let my expression show it, but I am pissed. I hate that fucking poser, and she only likes him because of his big dick, Prince Albert and all.

“Pink this week?” I ask, referring to the manic panic dyed locks in her hair. It suits her though. Perfectly. “You like it?” She asks while she pulls me into her arms for an over friendly hug. Her hands glide across my ass before she runs a teasing finger between my legs. “It suits you, that is for sure.” I laugh as Rex returns with my drinks. “Get Star, and
him
whatever they want. Drinks are on me tonight.”

I throw back the shot of whiskey. The amber liquid burns my throat, but damn it hurts so good. Star wraps her arm around me, pulling me in to plant a juicy kiss on my cheek before she finally asks, “what are we celebrating tonight?” The question of the hour. What I do in the board room stays there. I don't bring work home, ever. I don't bring home, to work, ever. Most of my employees don't even believe I have a fucking personal life, which is pretty rich considering the life I lead when I am not in the office.

“Victory. Sweet, fucking victory, bitch!” I grab her and plant a kiss right back on her cheek, careful not to make a play for her lips. Not only would Evan fill with rage, but I am sure Star would be pretty pissed at me for running him off. “What third world country did you concur this week?” Star laughs while she picks up her martini off the bar and chugs. I lift my bottle of beer to my lips and take a nice long sip, licking my lips and smiling bright enough to light up all of Manhattan. “No country, this week. Just a name I can cross of my revenge list.” I give no more details.

“Another shot of Jameson, Rex!” I call down to the end of the bar where the bald headed man is flirting with a dominatrix dressed in leather from head-to-toe, only her eyes peaking out from under a cat-like mask. Many of the high society types try and hide their identity behind these doors. Hoping the rest of the work will never see them for the kinky son of a bitch they really are. I never thought about hiding my own identity though, my skin and demeanor when I am here is enough to hide who I really am.

That's when he catches my eye. The business suit caught my eye first. As I move my eyes over his high priced clothes I can tell he is new. That and the fact that I have never seen him here before. He turns, and I catch a pair of the most intense and beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen on a man. They shimmer like ice on a cold February day. Stubble lightly dons his strong jaw. Although, there is nothing I love more on a man that a clean haircut, and a fresh shave, his stubble looks good enough to lick.

Rex returns with my shot, and I shoot it back, followed by a chug of beer. I am done with the alcohol for the night, not that Rex would serve me much more. The club was always careful to adhere to a strict drink limit, mixing too much alcohol with the sexual exploits of the club could become very dangerous, especially for newcomers. I'll let Star run up the tab. She fists her martini and comes to rest beside me. “Our usual table tonight?” I nod, as she drags Evan toward the round glass table alongside the back wall.

Everything inside Sinners and Swings is wood, deep cherry hard wood. The walls are decorated sparely in large canvas prints, all of erotic nature. Even though it is a kink club, it is an upperclass establishment, not one of those pervert filled dives, people go to in hopes of scoring a blow job in the bathroom. Private suites lined the side hallway, and the entire second floor of the building. Places for couples, or
groups
of consenting adults to have a little private fun. Unlike most kink clubs, Sinners and Swingers skipped the themed room bullshit. If you want an experience of that nature, this just isn't the place for you.

I start to follow Star and Evan to our usual table when I catch the mysterious new stranger staring. We make eye contact for a brief moment, as if there were some kind of magnetic pull I start making my way toward him. “I will catch up in a minute,” I whisper into Star's ear, privately, trying not to attract much attention tonight. I am just not in the mood for the admirers.

Was it the fact that I think he is sexy as sin, or maybe the fact that he is just fresh meat? I can't decide. What I can tell you, is he never broke my gaze as I made my way toward him.

“Your new here,” I say to him, as a small smile hints at the corners of his lickable mouth. I extend my arm in greeting, “Mistress Marilyn, love.” He takes my hand, and it shocks me. Like literally fucking shocks me. I haven't felt a shock like that since my older brother used to rub his feet across the funky old carpet in our Brownstone and shock me.

“Nice to meet you, Mistress Marilyn. I'm Levi.” He shrugs his shoulders, definitely a newbie or he would have been prepared with a scene name. I find him incredibly adorable though. “Nice to meet you Levi. Extremely nice to meet you.” Poor guy, I am virtually eating him alive. “If you are up for a little fun, I will be over there with a couple friends.” I motion over to Star who is now sitting in Evan's lap. I roll my eyes at their display of public affection. Levi takes notice immediately. He chuckles to himself, and turns for the bar as I make my way back to the table.

As I sit down on the red velvet cushioned medieval looking chair, Evan whispers something into Star's ear cuing her to grind her ass against the noticeable bulge in his much to tight skinny jeans.
Fucking God I hate guys who wear skinny jeans. Whoever thought making chick jeans for dudes needs to be shot.
Star leans in to me, the booze thick on her breath.

“We are gonna get outta here. This isn't really Evan's scene, plus I gotta get up early tomorrow.” She grasps for excuses, so her boyfriend doesn't look like the total tool he is. “Work? Its fucking eight at night. But if sissy boy can't hang, no biggie. I'm not sticking around long tonight anyway.” I lied. I will probably sit here till close, trying to muster up a little fun, even if I do have to celebrate alone tonight.

Star stands, and I join her in goodbyes. Before I know it, her lips are on mine, I open up, ever so slightly to accept her probing tongue. Just for a moment, I get lost in her glorious mouth before she starts to pull away. I latch on to her bottom lip with a soft nibble before releasing her. Sometimes, I swear her mouth feels like home. “Later Star.” Evan turns to me and shoots daggers in my direction, and I flip him the bird. “Sit on this fuck bag.”
God I fucking hate him. I don't hate many people, but there is something about him that rubs me the wrong fucking way.

And like that, I am alone. But I am used to it. I am like Pee Wee, a loner, a real rebel dotty.
Yes, I am fucking reciting Pee Wee's Big Adventure in my head. This night is going to hell in a hand-basket.
While I laugh at myself in my own mind, I fail to notice Levi making his way to my table. After watching him from a far, I notice the boy had done a couple laps, had a drink and hasn't caught the eye of anyone else. I am not surprised though, the people who come here aren't looking for the
banker
look. They could probably find a guy like him to fuck right at work. Typically I wouldn't give him a second glance, but his eyes tell me there is something dangerous about him. I am a gluten for punishment when it comes to dangerous men.

My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, drawing my attention away from the newbie, and to my back pocket. I pull the phone out and see Star peering back at me. In the picture she set as her called ID she sits seductively on my bed, topless holding her sizable breasts up with her arm, fully sleeved in My Little Pony tattoos. She takes the 80's cartoon phenomenon way too seriously.

“Hey?” I answer with curiosity, because there is no way Star should be calling me already.

“He is such a fucking douche. I am coming back.” The line goes dead and I can only wonder what the fuck conspired after they walked out. I am sure it had to do with our more than friendly parting kiss. Maybe she would finally kick his ass to the curb.
A girl can hope!