Vic was at the club at five before six. When he walked in
the front door, José said, “Boss man told me to expect you. His office is all
the way at the back. Go to the private room hallway and keep going. To the right,
by the door with the exit sign.” The door buzzed and Vic walked through. Then
the office door popped open and José whispered, “Hey, by the
way . . . ”
“Yeah?”
“You look fucking hot!” José said and winked at him.
What the hell?,
Vic wondered, trying to figure out what he should say. “Um, thanks?” he said
hesitantly. He couldn’t help wondering, Is
there something I should know here?
Completely rattled, Vic wandered through and went straight
to the back; he didn’t even notice the heads turning as he walked through,
mostly female but a few male. He knocked, and Steve said, “Come on in.”
Vic wasn’t prepared for what he found on the other side of
the door. Steve sat at his desk, his feet up, and a drop-dead gorgeous woman
who looked to be in her thirties knelt beside his chair, head down, hands
resting on her legs palms up, knees about as far apart as she could get them. And
she wasn’t wearing a stitch. Perfect presentation. Where did Steve get these
women?
“You can get up now. Go and put on your skirt. And wait for
me in the chair in our regular place.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” She stood, turned, and left the
room without ever even glancing at Vic. Well-trained,
he thought. “Did you train her, or was she . . . ”
“Sub wannabe. I’m working with her to see if I want to keep
her. I’m just not sure. Awful lot of responsibility.” He looked Vic up and
down. “You look, well . . . you look damn good.”
“José said I look hot,” Vic said without cracking a smile.
“José would know. He’s got a good eye.” Vic shot him a
curious look. “He swings both ways. Lucky bastard. And he should know hot – he’s pretty damn
hot himself.” Steve wrote something on a notepad on his desk, then stood. “Ready?”
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