by Six, Nicola
He pulled her into his chest. "Stop," he murmured into her hair. "You're going to make me hard again, talking like that."
"Would that be so bad?"
He pulled away. "No. But, we do have to be social this evening." He gestured toward the bathroom door. "You'll find everything you need in there, including hot towels, hairbrush, toothbrush...I'll go in after you."
The bathroom was even more luxurious than the office. She gazed around her at the cream colored walls and pearly countertops, a huge mirror edged in silver, and a warmer that held hot, moist towels. A corner shelving unit made of dark wood, matching the desk in the office, housed all the toiletries she could possibly desire. She wondered, as she picked up the new toothbrush and picked over the lotions and even perfumes, how many women came through here. Jack was certainly prepared for female guests who needed to straighten themselves out after sex.
She pushed these thoughts from her mind. No matter, I'm here now, she thought.
While she waited for Jack to straighten himself out in the bathroom, after she had emerged with once again shining hair and made up face, and everything else clean as if she hadn't just been fucked all over his office, Nicola helped herself to more champagne from the fridge. She sipped the cold, golden liquid and curled up on the couch, noting that her dress wasn't too wrinkled.
Jack came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. She stared at him and his fresh cologne wafted to her nose, teasing her.
"What now?" She asked.
He half smiled and walked to the other side of the bar to pour himself a glass of champagne. He brought his glass over to the couch and sat down, cocking his head to one side. He seemed contemplative for a moment.
"We go downstairs," he said, finally. "And this week we go out to lunch. I want to know more about you."
Nicola laughed this off. Greg would never go along with that plan.
Jack's smile faded. "I'm serious. I'm taking you out to lunch. This week. I'll email you on Monday and see which day works for your schedule."
There he goes again. Who does he think he is? "You might own this club, Jack, but you don't own me."
Jack opened his mouth to reply but his cell phone buzzed. He reached for it and looked at the message. "Perry says come down. She has wine waiting." He took her champagne glass from her and turned to stride toward the door, not offering her a hand up.
Nicola rolled her eyes and stood to follow him, secretly enjoying the view of his ass as he walked.
Greg speared a large hunk of omelet and shoved it into his mouth. "I'm starving," he mumbled with his mouth full. He swallowed with a contented look on his face and raised his coffee mug to the waitress for a refill.
They had slept until nearly noon, after arriving home the night before and collapsing into bed at two o'clock in the morning. Greg woke Nicola with the suggestion they head to their favorite diner for a hearty brunch.
Nicola sipped her coffee and took a bite of her bagel, smeared with cream cheese and heaped with lox. It was salty and creamy and the bright, merry diner made the masked ball seem like a different world, something of the past. But the adventure in Jack's office was certainly fresh in her mind. She tried to stop thinking about it and concentrate on her favorite breakfast, and her adorable husband with his cheeks covered in stubble and his hair a tousled mess. She smiled at him across the table.
Greg finished another mouthful and then leaned forward. "So," he said, his voice hushed. "How was your evening? The part when we weren't together, I mean."
Nicola almost choked on a piece of bagel and quickly took a sip of orange juice to clear her throat. "It was fun," she said, vaguely. "How was yours? What happened?"
Greg sat back and shook his head, chuckling softly. "What didn't happen. Perry...That woman's nuts."
"In a good way, I hope." Please don't ask me what happened.
Greg went back to his food. "This place makes the best western omelet, I'm telling you. There is no better. Want to catch a movie after breakfast? I have to go to bed super early. My shift at the hospital starts at four, tomorrow morning."
Nicola sat at her desk Monday afternoon, trying to have a relaxing coffee break. The day had been a series of dull meetings and even duller reports due to her boss. It was month end, so there was no time to go out to lunch or even take a lunch break. She and Audrey had eaten in their offices, communicating only via a few brief emails.
Nicola pushed her work aside and closed out of Excel. She needed a brain break, and some deep breathing. Her mind wandered to Saturday night. Am I a slut? I had sex with my husband in a cab and then with Jack, in his office, in the same evening. Is this healthy, this game? She didn't feel dirty but the promiscuity was irritating her like a rash. She stretched her arms above her head for a moment, feeling her tight shoulders protesting. The clock told her she had fifteen minutes before her next meeting. She dropped her hands to her keyboard and signed onto her personal email.
She jumped when she saw the email from JD30. Slowly, her fingers clicked it open.
No, you're not a slut.
Nicola's eyes widened. What? she typed.
You are not a slut, whore, hussy, floozy, or whatever derogatory word you have been tossing around in that pretty head of yours. Guilt is against the rules. Stop it. Do I need to give you a rule book?
No. Not necessary.
So short with me. How did you enjoy the party, Saturday?
What little I got to enjoy of it. I spent an awful lot of time in your office.
That's exactly where you should have been. Not dancing or doing anything else with the men downstairs.
That sounds a bit possessive! I think that's against the rules. Do YOU need a rule book?
I have no problem with breaking rules. Now, when are you free for lunch this week?
I'm not free for lunch this week. It's month end and I'm swamped.
You can work late the day we go. Pick a day, and make it fast. I have a meeting to get to.
I don't think having lunch together without our partners is part of the game.
Fine. Thursday it is. I'll send a driver at 12:30. Did you tell Greg everything?
No. Did Perry tell you everything?
Yes, she told me every detail, while riding me like the dirty little cowgirl that she is.
Nicola shivered. There was too much going on that she couldn't get her head around. She needed time to think. Was she being unfaithful? Was Greg? She glanced down to see another email from Jack.
You're not being unfaithful. You're both playing the game, remember? See you Thursday.
He must have a lot of experience keeping women on his path, she thought. His knowledge of our thought processes and doubts are making his experience clear. But what is his next move going to be? And when will he drop me for the next one?
Nicola wished she could talk to one of his former playmates, so that she could be more prepared. But perhaps not being prepared was part of the game.
All she knew was that she didn't want to stop playing. She wanted to stay in the game, for now. No matter what was coming.
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