Chapter 33 – Pleasing the Boss

He’s such a foundation in my life. I don’t want to doubt him. The mere thought of not being able to trust him makes the ground feel loose under my feet.

I shake off my reservations. “I was just headed to the…” I point at the ladies’ restroom. “If you’ll excuse me, I want to get in before the line gets long again.”

“Sure, sure.” He bends down to kiss me, and instead of feeling butterflies over his rare display of affection, I move my mouth at the last minute, so that his kiss doesn’t land on my lips. “Okay,” he says when he’s upright again. As though the refusal of his kiss is very not okay.

“Sorry. I just. Really have to go, is all.” I hurry toward the bathroom, and when I glance back it’s not to look at Elvis, but to look at Hadrian.

His eyes are already locked on me, almost like they were waiting for mine to seek his out. His expression is unreadable, as it often is, but the tick of his jaw seems to say that he not only saw me with Elvis, but also that he’s very unhappy about it.

And here comes the butterflies I was expecting. Just they’re here for the wrong man.

I’m washing my hands when my phone buzzes with a text. After the way Hadrian looked at me with Elvis, I suspect it’s from him.

Send me a picture of your pussy.

That was not the message I was expecting.

I ignore my stupid stomach flip and type in my response.

Not a chance.

You’re not wearing panties. It should be easy.

I almost ask if this has to do with Elvis, then change my mind, sure that jealousy is not in Hadrian’s nature.

But you owe me, remember?

I remembered YOU owe ME. I bought you a dress.

A dress that I didn’t ask for, to wear to an event I hadn’t planned to attend. Before I can mention those facts, he’s texted again.

Plus, today I’ve given you buzz.

My hand hesitates above the screen. Was that what this was all about? A chance to get my name circulating again before announcing I’m the anchor of a new show? It could help my success seem less out of the blue.

Actually, a very good move, strategy wise.

I tell myself that’s the reason I go back into the stall to send the requested pic, but the truth is, I want to send it to Hadrian. It’s barely anything compared to what I’ve agreed I would do for him, and there’s something exciting about the idea of getting him hot. We’re not in a relationship—not like that—but this flirting feels like foreplay. It will make the rest that happens between us feel more natural.

As if any of this is natural.

As though I’m not already looking forward to more.

I sigh as I hike up my dress, ready to take the shot when Hadrian sends another text.

Give me some real art. Something that shows me what I’ve purchased. Spread your lips. I want to see everything.

Just like that, I’m wet.

I sit on the toilet, legs wide, and pull my lips apart with my fingers. It’s embarrassingly porno, and I have to try several takes before I’m happy with it. I examine it. My skin is glistening with moisture. He’ll know he did that to me. I shouldn’t give this to him. This is so not a good idea.

I’m waiting…

Before I can think too hard about it, I curse under my breath and reply to his last text with the pic.

For some reason, I’m smiling when I leave the stall.

I have to search a bit to find Hadrian again in the gallery. His phone isn’t in hand, and I tell myself it’s for the best that he saves the looking for later. When I slide up next to him, he acts as though his text never happened. He doesn’t even look my way before picking up the conversation, as though I never left his side. “This would be more effective if it were in color.”

I step forward to study the image, an abandoned roadside market. There are moldy eggplants or zucchini in one of the boxes, along with various berries, and he’s right—color would help define the produce.

Behind me, Hadrian goes on. “Color was definitely the right choice for this. A wonderful shade of pink. And all bare. The best art I’ve seen all day.”

I suspect he’s moved on to the next image, but when I look ahead, I find it’s also in black and white.

Which is when I realize what he must be looking at.

Oh my God.

Sure enough, when I turn to face him, he has his phone in his hand and his arm held out where anyone walking by could see the blown-up image of my pussy on his screen.

“Oh my God!” I try to pull his arm down, but he moves his cell to his other hand and holds that up instead.

“I hadn’t expected all bare, to tell you the truth. A little bit of bush seemed more your style. Is this for Elvis?”

“Oh my God, stop!” Unlike him, I keep my voice down to a low hiss. I’m blushing so hard I can feel the heat from my head to my feet. “There are people here.”

He continues as if I haven’t said anything at all. “Look at you, already glistening.” He strokes the image, drawing his finger down between my folds.

As though he’s really touching me there, I shiver.

Hadrian puts a hand at my back and moves in closer so we’re looking at the picture together. “Not all pussies are pretty, Brystin. You should be proud. This one is a very pretty pussy.” His mouth is near my ear, his breath hot on my skin, and finally he’s talking soft. “Want to know what I’m planning to do to this pussy?”

I mean to say uh-uh, but it comes out more like a two syllable, “Mmm.”

“First, I’ll trace the beautiful lines of your lips with my finger. All the way to that tight asshole—thank you very much, for including that in the shot. Then I’ll take that pink little bud.” He rubs the screen over my clit. “I’ll suck it into my mouth, like a juicy berry. Do you think you’ll squirt all over the place, when I do that? Will I have to clean it all up with my tongue?”

I’m paralyzed with lust. The crowd has disappeared, a dull murmur in the background. My breaths feel short and erratic. I think I’m supposed to speak, but I can’t find my voice.

“Answer me, Brystin. When I play with this pussy, will I have to lap up a mess? Will I get my beard wet? Will I be wearing your cunt on my face when I’m done?”

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