Destiny toiled over her ledgers trying to balance the monthly books. Every since the newspaper mergers started, she has had to work twice as hard to make sure the numbers were balancing to the penny every month. Her staff were all accounting geniuses in their own rights, but her meticulousness reduced them all to first graders. She was quick to point out the mistakes and demand beyond perfection in their correction. It had gotten so bad, she had started noticing her team scurrying like rats whenever she'd enter the office. She had to remember to buy them all lunch when the mergers were complete. Until then, noses to the grind stone!
A firm knock at her door pulled her eyes from her books and into the stunning gaze of Mr. Xavier Drake; the man who had been haunting her dreams since that night in the club. He was looking rather handsome today in a pair of fitted jeans, a plaid button down and brown V-neck sweater. With gentleman-like panache, he doffed his cap and flashed her a friendly smile, leaving her completely dumbstruck. He was just simply too sexy for her own good; making her vulnerable to certain parts of her. In fact, it was the first time in her adult life that her attraction to a man was on a human level rather than an objectified one. Men were her toys, but this one could have greater potential. This both fascinated and horrified her, which was why she had made it a point to keep her distance from the observant reporter since their first meeting.
She would have seen the dashing investigative reporter sooner, but had decided to forgo her brother's big merger bash; settling to celebrate with the new quarter numbers instead. She was sure Mr. Drake would have been in attendance along with everyone else at Montgomery Media. In fact, she knew he had been since that was all the girls could titter about on Monday. They all were vying for a chance to get at the very single Mr. Drake. Glancing behind him, she noticed several of her female (and one male) staffer checking out the reporter standing in her doorway.
"May I help you?" she asked.
"Ms. Montgomery? I'm Xavier Drake, one of the reporters at the Norfolk Reader. I was wondering if I could take a bit of your time?"
"I guess so, but I'm curious as to why?" Destiny closed the ledger in front of her to make room on her desk.
"Well, readers have been wondering about the mergers and writing and calling into the paper for answers. So, the big editors wanted to give them a scoop from all angles. I've been charged with the financial side."
"Ah, the exciting stuff," she joked sensing his dissatisfaction with the task by his heavy sigh. "Did you draw the unlucky straw?"
"It was paper strips in a hat, but who's dwelling?" he teased back, entering her office. "May I sit?'
"Please." She indicated the chair in front of her desk. Once he was settled, an awkward silence fell in the room with their eyes going back and forth.
Xavier was mesmerized by her beauty. The way she carried herself spoke volumes for her upbringing. She was regal, almost royal with the haughty lift of her chin. She wasn't cool, but she seemed reserved with her warmth. He could tell she was sizing him up. He was sizing her up too. Her long, brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun accentuating her high cheekbones and gentle doe eyes, which lay hidden behind a pair of funky retro, tortoise-shell specks. She barely wore any make up; maybe foundation and some gloss, but those long lashes were all hers. Her gray pantsuit was impeccable and crisp, molding to her shape nicely, professionally. She certainly looked the part of a CFO.
However, of all the Montgomerys, he knew the least about this one. By all appearances, she was the wall flower of the group, preferring to stay in the back ground while her brother and sister took center stage. But he sensed she had a quick wit from just their simple exchange a few moments ago. Something he admired in a woman. He had dreaded coming here to do the interview, but with the staff being cut down from the mergers, it was all hands on deck for the big project. Now, he seemed eager to learn more about this particular Montgomery, if only on a professional level.
"Where shall we start?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"Ah, I have a list of questions from the readers as well as our team," he said, pulling his notes.
"Well, let's see if I am can answer them."
The moment he had asked for had turned into a two hour back and forth, which found Xavier actually even more fascinated by the financial reasoning used to start the mergers. Destiny knew her stuff and had done thorough research with her team to try to initially save the papers separately, but, in the end, they had seen the mergers as a much better option. And he had been right about her wit. She had given him some choice quotes that would definitely spice up the article and make it understandable to the readers. But he found he was also intrigued by the woman behind the money. The more he listened to her voice, he found himself pulled into her story. It was husky without being overtly sexual; warm, rich. The way she allowed the words to flow turned figures into poems.
"I hope I answered everything for you, Xavier."
Her voice woke him from his daydreaming. "Ah yes, you have, Ms. Montgomery," he stated rising from his seat. He reached over to shake her hand. "May I call you Destiny?"
"You may not. I tend to keep things very professional here."
Something in the way she said that reminded him of Fairchild Letts. Damn, there he went again thinking of that cold-hearted harlot. He had promised himself that he would not conjure up thoughts of her, but he couldn't help himself. Unfortunately, he had grown very attracted to the minx as his expose on the Norfolk underground continued. A couple of times, he had even caught himself with a bad case of the wood at his desk. And no amount of fat nuns or images of road kill would clear it up. It was even worse at night. Sadly, he admitted to rubbing one out to a racy thought of her, which only made matters worse, because now he really wanted her; no substitutes. The only time Fairchild had not crossed his mind was during his interview with Ms. Montgomery.
Jarring from his thoughts, Xavier picked up his notes. "That's cool and totally understandable, Ms. Montgomery."
"I hope to see the finished product, Mr. Drake. I certainly enjoy your current expose."
"Oh, you've been following that?" he asked, intrigued, crossing his arms."What do you think?"
"I think you capture the individuals perfectly. Some of them are quite the characters."
"They sure are," he agreed his thoughts flying back to Fairchild again. With that, Xavier bid farewell and headed out of the office. He glanced back to see Destiny closing her door, but just before it sealed shut, he noticed that her eyes trained on him thoughtfully. Now, what was on her mind?
Destiny breathed a sigh of relief before retrieving her secondary phone from her purse. She punched up one of her contacts and dialed. After one ring, the person picked up. "Yes, Fairchild."
"I wish solace tonight, Maggie."
"A,B, and C will be very disappointed, but as you wish, Fairchild," Maggie Soon replied retrieving the numbers from her Rolodex.
"Inform them their mistress needs time alone. She cannot give them the proper attention they deserve if she is not focused. Send them a trinket or two."
"Anything specific."
Destiny thought for a second. "Has Raquel, Rolanda and Rochelle returned?"
"Yes."
"Then send them their way with my blessings. They will fulfill their longings this evening."
"Very generous, mistress."
"I know. Oh, Maggie, did we learn anything about Mr. Drake?"
"I've compiled the usual report for you. It will be waiting for you in your quarters."
"Excellent. And, Maggie, make sure my room is fully stocked tonight."
"Yes, mistress. All your toys have returned from the cleaners. Do want any particular one?"
"All of them."
"Yes, mistress."
Destiny disconnected her phone with a sigh of anticipation. After today's encounter with Xavier Drake, Fairchild would have her hands full, wiping away his memory. With a delicious smirk, she pushed to finish her day.
Later that night, Fairchild entered the club looking more vampish than usual. For the evening, she had opted for a formfitting, one shoulder jumpsuit with black Louboutin pumps. The ensemble served to enhance the deadly curves of her hips and breasts. This was proven true when the usually stoic bouncer, Guard, did a double take up allowing her access into the club. This made Fairchild grin happily. About her wrists jangled an array of gold bracelets coupled with a matching pair of large hooped earrings, drawing attention to her long neck. Her hair was in a full on poofed 'do that sat back on her head to accentuate her gothic-like make up with an urban twist courtesy of her MAC Viva La Glam collection. She was definitely out to t'work it.
But, then again, so were the rest of the Elite.
The Children (as she called her faithful clientele) were in full swing tonight. Just entering the den, she had been greeted to two males having their way with one another, while their female voyeur watched avidly. The live band on the main stage had decided to perform naked with just their instruments shielding them. This prompted the go-go dancers to do the same, bouncing about in their cages and atop the bar in the altogether, much to Jacob's chagrin. He had to keep reminding them to keep their bare asses off his granite.
"Everything all right, Jacob?"
"It will be when Minx finds her damn panties," he growled cleaning off the area vacated by the bleach blond dancer. "The usual, Fairchild?"
Fairchild thought about it and decided against the normal wine. Leaning into the bar, she flashed Jacob a wicked gleam. "Give me one of your sweetly dirty martinis."
"Godiva or Lindt?"
"Surprise me." Jacob went to work creating the beverage for her, while Fairchild perused the house. Something seemed out of place. "Where is he?"
Knowing who she referred to was easy, since she had asked after the nosy reporter every time she had come in. "Laila is his next target tonight."
"Hot wax lady?" she scoffed.
"He was lured by the word dungeon," Jacob teased handing her the beverage, which she quickly swooped up.
"Perfect as always, Jacob. Now, tell me what you know about Drake."
Jacob paused to look at the boss lady. She had never come to him with such quandaries; that was usually the work of the lovely Miss Soon. "Why would I be that helpful?"
"You were college roommates. Played basketball together at Howard. And have gotten each other out of some pretty tight jams, hence that scar on you left hipbone."
Jacob seemed annoyed that Fairchild could get any info she needed on anyone. How she ever knew about that scar from that club brawl in Florida he'll never know? Shaking off the annoyance, he leaned on the bar, squaring off with her. "What do you want to know that you haven't already found out?"
"He intrigues me. I want to know his interests, his fetishes."
"Fetishes? What makes you think he has any?"
"He's here, isn't he?"
Jacob was rolling his eyes upward when he saw his friend on the hotel level of the club, heading away from Laila's dungeon toward Fairchild's suite. Shit, dude, what are you doing?
"You don't have to answer now, Jacob. Think about it." Fairchild dismissed walking toward the stairs, causing the barkeep to panic.
"Fairchild, wait!"
Xavier eased into Fairchild's room after seeing her gorgeous, Asian assistant leave. He had learned the girl's name was Maggie Soon and was Fairchild's trusted right-hand gal. He had tried gleaning info about the mistress of the realm from her, but had failed miserably. Maggie Soon was as closed up as Fort Knox and no secrets would or could be had from her. Speaking with several of the clientele, it seemed as if no one knew the inner workings of Fairchild Letts' circle. None of her subs kissed or told. She was an enigma of the worse kind. Now, he'd resigned himself to snooping around her private quarters like a tabloid reporter. Standing in the middle of the room, he took in the lavishness of it all. It was a room definitely outfitted for pleasure. Satin bed sheets, silk drapes, huge harem-style pillows and richly crafted divans and a huge king-sized bed decorated the room. A large, Oriental silk dressing screen sat in one corner, while a well-stocked, dry bar dominated the opposite side.Vegas had nothing on her.
He walked about the room taking in the other luxuries, taking special note of the loops built into the head post and foot boards of the elaborate bed. Did she use them to tie down or be tied down by her many lovers? For some odd reasons the thought rubbed him the wrong way. It did every time. His eyes scanned the night stand and was awed by the items he found there. Any array of toys that could only be defined as a mini sexual torture chamber. Curious, he picked up a hand-blown glass dildo. It was smooth to the touch yet surprisingly warm, despite being made of glass. The tip was the exact replica of a penis head, but the rest of the barrel was blown into a series of ripples and bends meant to target key zones inside her body.
He didn't know what possessed him but he pressed the item to his nose, hoping to catch her scent, and was disappointed to smell nothing. It was as clean as a whistle. With a smirk for his audacity, he placed the item back on the stand next to a manila file baring his name. This set off alarm bells. What did Fairchild learn about his past? He was ready to pick it up when he heard a commotion outside.
"Jacob, I'm sure you stocked the bar just fine. What is with you tonight?"
"Just let me get in there before you enter, Fairchild. I would so hate to disappoint you. I just want to make sure," the bartender insisted.
"No! Now go back down below!" Her tone was not to be brokered with and Jacob sighed in defeat, retreating down the stairs. Jacob's eyes rolled to the ceiling in a short prayer as he heard Fairchild slam the door closed behind her. Her bartender had put her in quite a mood now, but she was determined to not let it completely ruin her night. "Silly, man."
Stepping further into the room, she immediately stripped out of her clothes, tossing them to the waiting divan in the corner. She had opted for no panties, wanting to feel the fitted jumper's material on her skin. Now that she was freed of her fetters, her eyes avidly studied her framework in the large mirror. She loved looking at her body; the lush lines and curves; the rich, coffee dark skin; the symmetry between her breasts and ass. It turned her on, making her instantly forget the mood Jacob had thrown her into. Her hands firmly gripped for her breasts, feeling their heft and cuddling them to her body. The darkened aureoles quickly perked up under her gentle ministrations, easing her stress. She smiled seductively at herself, enjoying the view.
She wasn't the only one.
Behind the silk screen, Xavier watched her fondle herself. The way her hands moved over her body was like an old lover touching his cherished beloved. She knew her every spots and knew them well, which prompted him to take mental notes. Strangely, he envied those hands touching her, bringing her joy. He definitely liked the exotic look she was rocking tonight. His fingers itched to entangle in that curly 'fro and give it a good tug. His mouth burned to suck on those delectable nipples, too. He wondered if they were semi- or bittersweet. The curiosity was so much that it caused his manhood to throb like a twisted devil. How was she able to do this to him?
Fairchild had an odd feeling possess her; like she was being watched. Most of the club voyeurs knew that her suite was off limits to them. Not that she minded being watched, loved it actually, but when she wanted her solace, she was very protective of it. Glancing about the room suspiciously, she listened for sounds of breathing other than her own. Xavier held his inhale and froze, while the lady made sure she was indeed alone. He prayed under his breath she could not hear the loud pulse of his dick as it thrumped against his zipper. Once she was assured no one had invaded her sanctum, Fairchild made her way to the bed to recline.
She stretched her long, ebony legs out over the satin coverlet, while her hands went back to work on her breasts. Her fingers tugged on the sweet nips, elongating them and bringing about a mixture of pleasure and pain that shot right to her core. Because of their heft, she was able to hoist one to her long, waiting tongue. With expertise, she flicked the sensitive bud, causing her body to serpentine to and fro in a sexy rhythm only she knew and that Xavier wanted to learn. Erotic sounds filtered from her mouth caressing his ears, touching his core. He pushed his palm against his manhood hoping to ease some of the building pressure, but it only increased it tenfold as he continued to watch her.
Fairchild had reached over to the nightstand to retrieve a small glass bottle. It was sweet smelling Argan oil; another gift from her insanely rich pasha friend. She drizzled a liberal amount on her torso and began to slather it all over, leaving a glisten on her skin. It warmed her already heated body and sensitized her fired erogenous zones. Splaying her thighs open, she gave the hidden Xavier a prime view of her pink center, covered in a thick, clear dew. It made his mouth water, hungry to taste her offering. Her clit was taut, straining against the folds, begging to be touched as his dick wanted to be.
He quietly eased the zipper on his jeans down, hoping the sound was covered by her own steady panting. Just as she reached down to massage her throbbing nub, he gripped his dick. Fairchild relished in the sensation of her fingers moving over her slick folds. It was like a wind up toy as she twirled it over her digits and grazed her nail over the delicate engorgement. She could feel her insides tighten in pleasure, pushing her pelvis up and forward. At the same time, images of Xavier Drake flashed through her mind; his sexy smile curving those luscious lips, causing an indent in his cheeks; that husky laugh that caused her belly to quiver; those long fingers wrapped about his pen taking notes. She'd give anything right now to be his notebook.
Fairchild quickly rose up on her knees never letting go of her clit, strumming it fiercely as she rotated her hips against her hand; the steady jingle of her bracelets keeping rhythm. Her other hand returned to her breasts showing them love. The sweet pleasure was definitely going to her head, shortening her breath.
Xavier was stroking at the same pace, biting his lip against the waiting groan in his throat. Her tempting mouth hung open daring him to fill it; and he wanted to - badly. Would he dare reveal his presence now to fulfill both their needs? He was sorely tempted. From his hiding spot, he could tell she was nearing the final stages of this first act and he was looking for an encore. Her fingers twirled about frantically forcing louder moans from her throat. Reaching for the glass wand he had handled earlier, Fairchild ran a wicked tongue across it before dipping it in her depths, never breaking the stride she'd built.
Her hips moved back and forth over the treasure, loving the filled sensation. Her fingers continued their magic, adding to the deliciousness. Soon the pressure became so overwhelming she could feel her muscles tighten over the glass, milking it. She was coming undone. Warm juices began to rain over the wand and onto the sheets, accompanied by a myriad of trembles and shakes. Fairchild's head reared back as a scream ripped from her mouth to echo about the room, drowning Xavier's own orgasmic growl. He prayed she hadn't heard him as he scanned the small hiding spot for a hand towel, settling for a scrap of silk to clean himself.
He shivered with extreme satisfaction and awe. He'd slept with a lot of woman, but he'd never had an orgasm so profound without ever touching a woman. Dare he say, he really wanted to know Fairchild now if she could do this to him without laying a finger on him.
"It's been a long time since I'd been spied on." Her voice echoed out to the room, stilling his movements.
Xavier swore under his breath at being caught, but when he looked out into the suite, he saw another man. Dressed in clothes straight out of the Arabian Nights, he stood tall, at least 6'5", and was extremely handsome, Xavier grudgingly admitted. The man was staring at his Fairchild with all the passion and lust one man could muster.
"Too many nights have passed between us, Fairchild," he spoke coming forward. "What gave me away?"
"The oil." Fairchild slipped on her robe before approaching the man. "When did you get in?"
"Just this evening. I had to come see you, my dessert rose."
"Your timing is impeccable, Kasim. I need your talents to rid me of a certain someone."
"Your wish is my command." The pasha swept Fairchild into his arms.
"Not now," she chuckled wrapping her arms about him. "Let's catch up in the salon."
With that, the other man carried her off into another room in the suite, giving Xavier a chance to escape. He was fuming and annoyed. Who was that guy? A diplomat? An oil baron? He and Fairchild seemed real chummy, which didn't sit well with him. She said his name was Kasim and, by the look of him, he dripped of money. He was turning from her door when his thoughts were roughly interrupted by Jacob slamming him up against the wall by his shirt front.
"What the fuck are you doing, dude?" the bartender barked at him, slamming him again for good measure.
"Some investigative reporting," he lied, easing the man's hands from his shirt.
"Do you have any idea how much trouble your in?"
"Relax. She didn't see me."
"Yeah, but her security cameras did!"
The reporter stared wide eyed at his friend, who'd shoved a video cassette into his hand. "You're welcome!" Jacob growled a curt before stalking off back down the stairs, shaking his head. Xavier tapped the item in his hand, smiling. At least, he had a memory of what happened tonight. But he also remember something else; something more pressing. What was in that file Fairchild had on him? More importantly, how would she use it?
A firm knock at her door pulled her eyes from her books and into the stunning gaze of Mr. Xavier Drake; the man who had been haunting her dreams since that night in the club. He was looking rather handsome today in a pair of fitted jeans, a plaid button down and brown V-neck sweater. With gentleman-like panache, he doffed his cap and flashed her a friendly smile, leaving her completely dumbstruck. He was just simply too sexy for her own good; making her vulnerable to certain parts of her. In fact, it was the first time in her adult life that her attraction to a man was on a human level rather than an objectified one. Men were her toys, but this one could have greater potential. This both fascinated and horrified her, which was why she had made it a point to keep her distance from the observant reporter since their first meeting.
She would have seen the dashing investigative reporter sooner, but had decided to forgo her brother's big merger bash; settling to celebrate with the new quarter numbers instead. She was sure Mr. Drake would have been in attendance along with everyone else at Montgomery Media. In fact, she knew he had been since that was all the girls could titter about on Monday. They all were vying for a chance to get at the very single Mr. Drake. Glancing behind him, she noticed several of her female (and one male) staffer checking out the reporter standing in her doorway.
"May I help you?" she asked.
"Ms. Montgomery? I'm Xavier Drake, one of the reporters at the Norfolk Reader. I was wondering if I could take a bit of your time?"
"I guess so, but I'm curious as to why?" Destiny closed the ledger in front of her to make room on her desk.
"Well, readers have been wondering about the mergers and writing and calling into the paper for answers. So, the big editors wanted to give them a scoop from all angles. I've been charged with the financial side."
"Ah, the exciting stuff," she joked sensing his dissatisfaction with the task by his heavy sigh. "Did you draw the unlucky straw?"
"It was paper strips in a hat, but who's dwelling?" he teased back, entering her office. "May I sit?'
"Please." She indicated the chair in front of her desk. Once he was settled, an awkward silence fell in the room with their eyes going back and forth.
Xavier was mesmerized by her beauty. The way she carried herself spoke volumes for her upbringing. She was regal, almost royal with the haughty lift of her chin. She wasn't cool, but she seemed reserved with her warmth. He could tell she was sizing him up. He was sizing her up too. Her long, brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun accentuating her high cheekbones and gentle doe eyes, which lay hidden behind a pair of funky retro, tortoise-shell specks. She barely wore any make up; maybe foundation and some gloss, but those long lashes were all hers. Her gray pantsuit was impeccable and crisp, molding to her shape nicely, professionally. She certainly looked the part of a CFO.
However, of all the Montgomerys, he knew the least about this one. By all appearances, she was the wall flower of the group, preferring to stay in the back ground while her brother and sister took center stage. But he sensed she had a quick wit from just their simple exchange a few moments ago. Something he admired in a woman. He had dreaded coming here to do the interview, but with the staff being cut down from the mergers, it was all hands on deck for the big project. Now, he seemed eager to learn more about this particular Montgomery, if only on a professional level.
"Where shall we start?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"Ah, I have a list of questions from the readers as well as our team," he said, pulling his notes.
"Well, let's see if I am can answer them."
The moment he had asked for had turned into a two hour back and forth, which found Xavier actually even more fascinated by the financial reasoning used to start the mergers. Destiny knew her stuff and had done thorough research with her team to try to initially save the papers separately, but, in the end, they had seen the mergers as a much better option. And he had been right about her wit. She had given him some choice quotes that would definitely spice up the article and make it understandable to the readers. But he found he was also intrigued by the woman behind the money. The more he listened to her voice, he found himself pulled into her story. It was husky without being overtly sexual; warm, rich. The way she allowed the words to flow turned figures into poems.
"I hope I answered everything for you, Xavier."
Her voice woke him from his daydreaming. "Ah yes, you have, Ms. Montgomery," he stated rising from his seat. He reached over to shake her hand. "May I call you Destiny?"
"You may not. I tend to keep things very professional here."
Something in the way she said that reminded him of Fairchild Letts. Damn, there he went again thinking of that cold-hearted harlot. He had promised himself that he would not conjure up thoughts of her, but he couldn't help himself. Unfortunately, he had grown very attracted to the minx as his expose on the Norfolk underground continued. A couple of times, he had even caught himself with a bad case of the wood at his desk. And no amount of fat nuns or images of road kill would clear it up. It was even worse at night. Sadly, he admitted to rubbing one out to a racy thought of her, which only made matters worse, because now he really wanted her; no substitutes. The only time Fairchild had not crossed his mind was during his interview with Ms. Montgomery.
Jarring from his thoughts, Xavier picked up his notes. "That's cool and totally understandable, Ms. Montgomery."
"I hope to see the finished product, Mr. Drake. I certainly enjoy your current expose."
"Oh, you've been following that?" he asked, intrigued, crossing his arms."What do you think?"
"I think you capture the individuals perfectly. Some of them are quite the characters."
"They sure are," he agreed his thoughts flying back to Fairchild again. With that, Xavier bid farewell and headed out of the office. He glanced back to see Destiny closing her door, but just before it sealed shut, he noticed that her eyes trained on him thoughtfully. Now, what was on her mind?
Destiny breathed a sigh of relief before retrieving her secondary phone from her purse. She punched up one of her contacts and dialed. After one ring, the person picked up. "Yes, Fairchild."
"I wish solace tonight, Maggie."
"A,B, and C will be very disappointed, but as you wish, Fairchild," Maggie Soon replied retrieving the numbers from her Rolodex.
"Inform them their mistress needs time alone. She cannot give them the proper attention they deserve if she is not focused. Send them a trinket or two."
"Anything specific."
Destiny thought for a second. "Has Raquel, Rolanda and Rochelle returned?"
"Yes."
"Then send them their way with my blessings. They will fulfill their longings this evening."
"Very generous, mistress."
"I know. Oh, Maggie, did we learn anything about Mr. Drake?"
"I've compiled the usual report for you. It will be waiting for you in your quarters."
"Excellent. And, Maggie, make sure my room is fully stocked tonight."
"Yes, mistress. All your toys have returned from the cleaners. Do want any particular one?"
"All of them."
"Yes, mistress."
Destiny disconnected her phone with a sigh of anticipation. After today's encounter with Xavier Drake, Fairchild would have her hands full, wiping away his memory. With a delicious smirk, she pushed to finish her day.
Later that night, Fairchild entered the club looking more vampish than usual. For the evening, she had opted for a formfitting, one shoulder jumpsuit with black Louboutin pumps. The ensemble served to enhance the deadly curves of her hips and breasts. This was proven true when the usually stoic bouncer, Guard, did a double take up allowing her access into the club. This made Fairchild grin happily. About her wrists jangled an array of gold bracelets coupled with a matching pair of large hooped earrings, drawing attention to her long neck. Her hair was in a full on poofed 'do that sat back on her head to accentuate her gothic-like make up with an urban twist courtesy of her MAC Viva La Glam collection. She was definitely out to t'work it.
But, then again, so were the rest of the Elite.
The Children (as she called her faithful clientele) were in full swing tonight. Just entering the den, she had been greeted to two males having their way with one another, while their female voyeur watched avidly. The live band on the main stage had decided to perform naked with just their instruments shielding them. This prompted the go-go dancers to do the same, bouncing about in their cages and atop the bar in the altogether, much to Jacob's chagrin. He had to keep reminding them to keep their bare asses off his granite.
"Everything all right, Jacob?"
"It will be when Minx finds her damn panties," he growled cleaning off the area vacated by the bleach blond dancer. "The usual, Fairchild?"
Fairchild thought about it and decided against the normal wine. Leaning into the bar, she flashed Jacob a wicked gleam. "Give me one of your sweetly dirty martinis."
"Godiva or Lindt?"
"Surprise me." Jacob went to work creating the beverage for her, while Fairchild perused the house. Something seemed out of place. "Where is he?"
Knowing who she referred to was easy, since she had asked after the nosy reporter every time she had come in. "Laila is his next target tonight."
"Hot wax lady?" she scoffed.
"He was lured by the word dungeon," Jacob teased handing her the beverage, which she quickly swooped up.
"Perfect as always, Jacob. Now, tell me what you know about Drake."
Jacob paused to look at the boss lady. She had never come to him with such quandaries; that was usually the work of the lovely Miss Soon. "Why would I be that helpful?"
"You were college roommates. Played basketball together at Howard. And have gotten each other out of some pretty tight jams, hence that scar on you left hipbone."
Jacob seemed annoyed that Fairchild could get any info she needed on anyone. How she ever knew about that scar from that club brawl in Florida he'll never know? Shaking off the annoyance, he leaned on the bar, squaring off with her. "What do you want to know that you haven't already found out?"
"He intrigues me. I want to know his interests, his fetishes."
"Fetishes? What makes you think he has any?"
"He's here, isn't he?"
Jacob was rolling his eyes upward when he saw his friend on the hotel level of the club, heading away from Laila's dungeon toward Fairchild's suite. Shit, dude, what are you doing?
"You don't have to answer now, Jacob. Think about it." Fairchild dismissed walking toward the stairs, causing the barkeep to panic.
"Fairchild, wait!"
Xavier eased into Fairchild's room after seeing her gorgeous, Asian assistant leave. He had learned the girl's name was Maggie Soon and was Fairchild's trusted right-hand gal. He had tried gleaning info about the mistress of the realm from her, but had failed miserably. Maggie Soon was as closed up as Fort Knox and no secrets would or could be had from her. Speaking with several of the clientele, it seemed as if no one knew the inner workings of Fairchild Letts' circle. None of her subs kissed or told. She was an enigma of the worse kind. Now, he'd resigned himself to snooping around her private quarters like a tabloid reporter. Standing in the middle of the room, he took in the lavishness of it all. It was a room definitely outfitted for pleasure. Satin bed sheets, silk drapes, huge harem-style pillows and richly crafted divans and a huge king-sized bed decorated the room. A large, Oriental silk dressing screen sat in one corner, while a well-stocked, dry bar dominated the opposite side.Vegas had nothing on her.
He walked about the room taking in the other luxuries, taking special note of the loops built into the head post and foot boards of the elaborate bed. Did she use them to tie down or be tied down by her many lovers? For some odd reasons the thought rubbed him the wrong way. It did every time. His eyes scanned the night stand and was awed by the items he found there. Any array of toys that could only be defined as a mini sexual torture chamber. Curious, he picked up a hand-blown glass dildo. It was smooth to the touch yet surprisingly warm, despite being made of glass. The tip was the exact replica of a penis head, but the rest of the barrel was blown into a series of ripples and bends meant to target key zones inside her body.
He didn't know what possessed him but he pressed the item to his nose, hoping to catch her scent, and was disappointed to smell nothing. It was as clean as a whistle. With a smirk for his audacity, he placed the item back on the stand next to a manila file baring his name. This set off alarm bells. What did Fairchild learn about his past? He was ready to pick it up when he heard a commotion outside.
"Jacob, I'm sure you stocked the bar just fine. What is with you tonight?"
"Just let me get in there before you enter, Fairchild. I would so hate to disappoint you. I just want to make sure," the bartender insisted.
"No! Now go back down below!" Her tone was not to be brokered with and Jacob sighed in defeat, retreating down the stairs. Jacob's eyes rolled to the ceiling in a short prayer as he heard Fairchild slam the door closed behind her. Her bartender had put her in quite a mood now, but she was determined to not let it completely ruin her night. "Silly, man."
Stepping further into the room, she immediately stripped out of her clothes, tossing them to the waiting divan in the corner. She had opted for no panties, wanting to feel the fitted jumper's material on her skin. Now that she was freed of her fetters, her eyes avidly studied her framework in the large mirror. She loved looking at her body; the lush lines and curves; the rich, coffee dark skin; the symmetry between her breasts and ass. It turned her on, making her instantly forget the mood Jacob had thrown her into. Her hands firmly gripped for her breasts, feeling their heft and cuddling them to her body. The darkened aureoles quickly perked up under her gentle ministrations, easing her stress. She smiled seductively at herself, enjoying the view.
She wasn't the only one.
Behind the silk screen, Xavier watched her fondle herself. The way her hands moved over her body was like an old lover touching his cherished beloved. She knew her every spots and knew them well, which prompted him to take mental notes. Strangely, he envied those hands touching her, bringing her joy. He definitely liked the exotic look she was rocking tonight. His fingers itched to entangle in that curly 'fro and give it a good tug. His mouth burned to suck on those delectable nipples, too. He wondered if they were semi- or bittersweet. The curiosity was so much that it caused his manhood to throb like a twisted devil. How was she able to do this to him?
Fairchild had an odd feeling possess her; like she was being watched. Most of the club voyeurs knew that her suite was off limits to them. Not that she minded being watched, loved it actually, but when she wanted her solace, she was very protective of it. Glancing about the room suspiciously, she listened for sounds of breathing other than her own. Xavier held his inhale and froze, while the lady made sure she was indeed alone. He prayed under his breath she could not hear the loud pulse of his dick as it thrumped against his zipper. Once she was assured no one had invaded her sanctum, Fairchild made her way to the bed to recline.
She stretched her long, ebony legs out over the satin coverlet, while her hands went back to work on her breasts. Her fingers tugged on the sweet nips, elongating them and bringing about a mixture of pleasure and pain that shot right to her core. Because of their heft, she was able to hoist one to her long, waiting tongue. With expertise, she flicked the sensitive bud, causing her body to serpentine to and fro in a sexy rhythm only she knew and that Xavier wanted to learn. Erotic sounds filtered from her mouth caressing his ears, touching his core. He pushed his palm against his manhood hoping to ease some of the building pressure, but it only increased it tenfold as he continued to watch her.
Fairchild had reached over to the nightstand to retrieve a small glass bottle. It was sweet smelling Argan oil; another gift from her insanely rich pasha friend. She drizzled a liberal amount on her torso and began to slather it all over, leaving a glisten on her skin. It warmed her already heated body and sensitized her fired erogenous zones. Splaying her thighs open, she gave the hidden Xavier a prime view of her pink center, covered in a thick, clear dew. It made his mouth water, hungry to taste her offering. Her clit was taut, straining against the folds, begging to be touched as his dick wanted to be.
He quietly eased the zipper on his jeans down, hoping the sound was covered by her own steady panting. Just as she reached down to massage her throbbing nub, he gripped his dick. Fairchild relished in the sensation of her fingers moving over her slick folds. It was like a wind up toy as she twirled it over her digits and grazed her nail over the delicate engorgement. She could feel her insides tighten in pleasure, pushing her pelvis up and forward. At the same time, images of Xavier Drake flashed through her mind; his sexy smile curving those luscious lips, causing an indent in his cheeks; that husky laugh that caused her belly to quiver; those long fingers wrapped about his pen taking notes. She'd give anything right now to be his notebook.
Fairchild quickly rose up on her knees never letting go of her clit, strumming it fiercely as she rotated her hips against her hand; the steady jingle of her bracelets keeping rhythm. Her other hand returned to her breasts showing them love. The sweet pleasure was definitely going to her head, shortening her breath.
Xavier was stroking at the same pace, biting his lip against the waiting groan in his throat. Her tempting mouth hung open daring him to fill it; and he wanted to - badly. Would he dare reveal his presence now to fulfill both their needs? He was sorely tempted. From his hiding spot, he could tell she was nearing the final stages of this first act and he was looking for an encore. Her fingers twirled about frantically forcing louder moans from her throat. Reaching for the glass wand he had handled earlier, Fairchild ran a wicked tongue across it before dipping it in her depths, never breaking the stride she'd built.
Her hips moved back and forth over the treasure, loving the filled sensation. Her fingers continued their magic, adding to the deliciousness. Soon the pressure became so overwhelming she could feel her muscles tighten over the glass, milking it. She was coming undone. Warm juices began to rain over the wand and onto the sheets, accompanied by a myriad of trembles and shakes. Fairchild's head reared back as a scream ripped from her mouth to echo about the room, drowning Xavier's own orgasmic growl. He prayed she hadn't heard him as he scanned the small hiding spot for a hand towel, settling for a scrap of silk to clean himself.
He shivered with extreme satisfaction and awe. He'd slept with a lot of woman, but he'd never had an orgasm so profound without ever touching a woman. Dare he say, he really wanted to know Fairchild now if she could do this to him without laying a finger on him.
"It's been a long time since I'd been spied on." Her voice echoed out to the room, stilling his movements.
Xavier swore under his breath at being caught, but when he looked out into the suite, he saw another man. Dressed in clothes straight out of the Arabian Nights, he stood tall, at least 6'5", and was extremely handsome, Xavier grudgingly admitted. The man was staring at his Fairchild with all the passion and lust one man could muster.
"Too many nights have passed between us, Fairchild," he spoke coming forward. "What gave me away?"
"The oil." Fairchild slipped on her robe before approaching the man. "When did you get in?"
"Just this evening. I had to come see you, my dessert rose."
"Your timing is impeccable, Kasim. I need your talents to rid me of a certain someone."
"Your wish is my command." The pasha swept Fairchild into his arms.
"Not now," she chuckled wrapping her arms about him. "Let's catch up in the salon."
With that, the other man carried her off into another room in the suite, giving Xavier a chance to escape. He was fuming and annoyed. Who was that guy? A diplomat? An oil baron? He and Fairchild seemed real chummy, which didn't sit well with him. She said his name was Kasim and, by the look of him, he dripped of money. He was turning from her door when his thoughts were roughly interrupted by Jacob slamming him up against the wall by his shirt front.
"What the fuck are you doing, dude?" the bartender barked at him, slamming him again for good measure.
"Some investigative reporting," he lied, easing the man's hands from his shirt.
"Do you have any idea how much trouble your in?"
"Relax. She didn't see me."
"Yeah, but her security cameras did!"
The reporter stared wide eyed at his friend, who'd shoved a video cassette into his hand. "You're welcome!" Jacob growled a curt before stalking off back down the stairs, shaking his head. Xavier tapped the item in his hand, smiling. At least, he had a memory of what happened tonight. But he also remember something else; something more pressing. What was in that file Fairchild had on him? More importantly, how would she use it?
hmmmm...very intriguing. Keep the Fairchild Chronicles coming.
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