Page 46 of Enthrall
“Oh.”
“Why are you eating low fat? You’re tiny.”
“Kind of grabbed them quickly.”
“You live here alone? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“I live alone. No boyfriend.”
“Hence being a virgin.”
I blushed. “Are you married?”
He hesitated before answering. “No.”
“Do you live with someone?”
“Yes. Winston.”
And yet Mistress Scarlet had told me Richard wasn’t gay. Maybe Winston was his son.
“He’s British and quite dashing.” Richard gave a roguish smile. “I am of course biased.”
Richard had managed to keep this secret from the girls.
“He’s a British Bulldog,” he said.
“You don’t bring him to work?” I tried to save my embarrassment from Richard’s all-seeing stare.
“Sometimes. But he loves the garden.” He neared me and took the glass of water out of my hand, tipping it down the sink. “I’m worried you’ll drink it.”
Something past between us and it caused a wave of giddiness.
“Listen, Mia,” he began, his tone soft and coaxing. “Tonight was a dreadful mistake and I can’t apologize more.”
“Already forgotten.”
“I’d like to offer you two weeks pay--”
“You can’t fire me now.” I panicked. “I’m fine, really. Please Richard, I love working at Enthrall and I get on great with all the staff.”
“And they all adore you, Mia. Only...”
“I have to pee,” I said, and scurried off to the restroom.
Inside, I stared at my reflection, trying to come up with the words I needed to persuade him not to fire me. I reached for my brush and ran it through my knotted hair, trying to ease out the windblown clumps. Richard’s open top adventure had left its mark.
That was the word, adventure. Yes, these people had a funny way of living and working, but it certainly beat the day to day drudgery of being a Wal-Mart employee, which was where I might be headed if I couldn’t convince Richard tonight had no effect on me.
It was strange, in that dungeon he’d acted so masterful, kind of pissed off actually, but in my apartment he seemed so normal. So regular. Well, as regular as a hot guy oozing enough sexual energy to power a major city can be. Caressing my lips with a fingertip, my mind wandered, taking me back to that blood red room and Richard’s touch...down there. I pushed thoughts of his slaps away and focused on how he’d stirred pleasure. It would be easy to get used to that kind of attention. Addicted to it in fact.
Obsessed.
If I trespassed into that dungeon again would I be treated to the same punishment? The temptation to stray once more into that dark, red room was seductive.
Wanting to look pretty for Richard, I applied a quick touch-up of lipstick and a dab of mascara and felt ready to face him again. Halfway out of the restroom I realized I hadn’t flushed the toilet, having not actually gone. I had two choices: hope Richard hadn’t noticed or go back in and risk looking odd.
From here, I could see Richard holding a piece of paper. He had in his hand one of the bills I’d left on the counter.
