by Jane Jamison
“I don’t believe you.”
She pretended a sadness she didn’t feel. “I know and it’s our fault. We have this odd sense of humor. But trust me, Agnes, you’re our girl.”
“If that’s true, why haven’t you ever invited me to Friday Freedom?”
Friday Freedom was the office’s name for the get together at a local club for Happy Hour every Friday after work. Ruthie had started the tradition and now it was a well-established routine. But they’d never invited Agnes. Why would they?
Was that hurt in the old biddy’s eyes? Maybe they should rethink the way they treated Agnes.
“Look, it’s this way. It’s nothing against you, but we see you more as management. Like Mr. Miller.” Maybe if she started referring to Georgie as Mr. Miller, Agnes wouldn’t lower the axe on them.
“But I’m a secretary like you two.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re so much more. Sure, that might be your job title, but you’re the one who keeps this place running. Mr. Miller looks up to you and that makes you more like his right-hand girl than any ordinary secretary.”
Agnes thrust out her chin, obviously buying the load of crap Beth was slinging. “I see. I guess I can understand why you’d think so.” She threw back her shoulders, then using only her forefinger and her thumb, she gingerly removed Beth’s hand from her shoulder.
Shit. Does she think I have cooties? Ladies and gentlemen, Agnes is back on the warpath.
“All right. I’ll overlook it this time.” She pointed a finger at Beth. “But you two had better get back at it. Right this minute. Understand?”
“Sure thing, Agnes. Just give us a couple of minutes, okay?”
“Fine. I’m in a generous mood today. But hurry up.” Agnes shook her finger at Ruthie as Beth stepped back into the conference room and started to close the door.
“Thanks, Agnes.” Ruthie wiggled her fingers in a good-bye wave. She kept the fake smile on her face until the door was closed firmly behind the older woman. “Finally. Urgh. That old cow drives me crazy. Why can’t she keep her nose out of our business?”
Beth held out her hand for the calendar. “It might help if you were nicer to her. I mean sincerely nicer to her. You need to be more careful. Don’t let her get to you. Georgie really does listen to her advice, you know.”
“He only does that because he’s afraid of her.”
“And he likes her. A lot. So give it break, okay? For my sake and for yours.”
“Okay, I’ll try and tone it down.” Beth laughed, then took the calendar and opened it wide again. Mr. November looked oh-so-hot in his workman’s pants and shirtless brawn. “Man, wouldn’t I like to have been the photographer.”
Ruthie narrowed her eyes, making her eyes appear even smaller behind the oversized glasses. Beth could almost see the ideas whirling inside her friend’s head.
“Then why don’t you?”
“Why don’t I what?”
“Why don’t you do photographs like these?” Ruthie hopped off the table, her green eyes dancing. “That’s it. Let’s make a calendar and sell it.”
“Don’t you think the beefcake thing has been done to death? Our calendar would be one of a hundred. Maybe a thousand or more. My point is that there are already a lot of them out there.”
She’d been a photography buff for several years, but had never taken it to a professional level. Others, friends and strangers alike, had told her she had the skill and the eye, but photography was her hobby, not a business she wanted to do full time.
“Come on, Beth, you know you want to and you’re good. Damn good. Even Georgie said so and he never gives anyone compliments.”
It was a crazy idea. Coming from Ruthie, it had to be. But still, could she do it?
“This is silly, Ruthie. We’d need a space to take the shots. Not to mention the time and the equipment. Besides, like I said, beefcake calendars are a dime a dozen. We’d need a unique idea that would set our calendar apart from the others. See? There are too many obstacles.”
It was a crazy idea. But then, if it was, why was her mind racing with ideas?
“Think about it, Bethie. It’s perfect. You’ve got the camera skill and I’ve got the organizational skills. Plus, I’m a damn good salesperson. If I can get the place and the equipment, will you do it?”
“Where would you get all that?”
“How about your friend Tyler?”
That idea had merit. Tyler Dilson was a professional photographer who had his own studio. She admired him a lot. Not only for his photographic skill, but for making a success of his business when all the odds had been against him. He’d grown up one of seven children with an absent father and had the courage to be openly gay before it was more acceptable to do so. He was also one of their best friends. “Maybe.”
Ruthie shifted from one foot to the other. “As for the idea, I think I’ve got a great one.”
They were getting too involved with the wild scheme. Agnes would come back any minute. Still, she couldn’t resist asking. “Okay, I’m not saying we do this, but what’s your idea?”
“Firemen.”
“Firemen?” Her heart sank. “There are already loads of firemen calendars.”
“Not like ours.”
She studied her friend, almost afraid to ask. “What’s that mean?”
“You know those books we like to read?”
“Uh-huh.” They’d both fallen in love with erotic romance novels. Add some BDSM into the stories and they were the perfect outlet for Beth’s fantasies. The books they read were often ménage romances, with one woman falling in love with two or more men.
Ruthie widened her eyes, pointedly staring at her. “Really, Bethie? You’ve got to know what I’m getting at.”
She did and she had to admit it was a pretty terrific idea. Or at least the start of a great idea. “You’re talking about mixing firemen with BDSM and erotic romance heroes. Am I right?”
Ruthie waved her on. “Yeah, you’ve got the basic idea, but how do we do that? Got any ideas?”
Her mind was whirling, but one idea kept coming to the forefront. “Well, I guess we could take firemen, dress them in sexy firemen outfits—”
“Or in not much of anything. Like with just the hat or the boots on,” added Ruthie.
“And put them in erotic positions.”
“Right. By themselves?”
She frowned, at first not understanding what Ruthie was getting at. Then it hit her. “No. We’d have two or more firemen with a woman. And they’ll have that woman tied up, or with a ball gag, or something else.” She grew to like the concept more and more. Could it really work? “It’ll be like bringing our fantasies to life.”
“Yes! That’s it. So what do you think? Can we pull it off?”
She hesitated. Getting involved in one of Ruthie’s wild ideas had gotten her in trouble before. Once, they’d ended up at the police station when Ruthie had talked her into punking her brother. They’d told him that a beautiful woman was dying to meet him. The woman, however, had actually been an undercover policewoman working on a prostitution sting. After spending a night in the police station and finally convincing the police of his innocence, he’d stormed out of the jail without a word. Two months passed before he’d spoken to either one of them.
“Bethie, come on. You know you want to do this.”
“You really think we could sell them? Online or elsewhere?”
“Would you buy one?”
“Yeah. I would.”
Ruthie threw up her hands. “See? Besides, what other choice do you have? So are we going to do this or not?”
Excitement whirled inside her. The idea was fun, daring, and might even work to get her tuition paid. “Yeah. What do I have to lose? Let’s do this.”
Ruthie squealed and hugged her. As she did so, she lost hold of the calendar just as Agnes poked her head around the door.
Beth snatched the calendar off the floor. But not before Agnes got a good look at Mr
. February.
“What in the world is that?”
Ruthie grabbed the calendar and dashed past them. “If you don’t know by now, Agnes, then I’m not going to explain it to you. Lunch at eleven-thirty, Bethie!”
She was gone, racing back to her cubicle before Beth could think of anything to say. Instead, she tossed Agnes a timid smile and eased past her as fast as she could.
* * * *
Beth moved the peas from one side of her plate to the other. “Okay, so I’ve given your calendar idea some more thought.”
Ruthie dropped her fork, setting up a clatter that garnered many of the other patrons’ attentions. “Please tell me you haven’t changed your mind. We’re still doing the erotic calendar, right?”
“Will you keep it down?” She smiled weakly at the older couple sitting at the table closest to them. Ruthie and she had come to The Copper Pot, their “treat” restaurant, the place where the entrees cost more than going to their usual fast-food or sandwich shop. The plush red leather booth was their favorite one, situated in the main area of the fancy restaurant. Copper sconces lit up the room and from where they sat they had a good eyeshot at the bar and the customers sitting in the other booths and the surrounding tables. The restaurant was crowded, doing a brisk late lunch business. Lamps attached to the walls hovered over each booth and rich paintings added to the lush ambience. It was definitely more upscale than most of the places they frequented, and although it hurt their wallets, they believed they deserved a good meal once a week after dealing with Georgie and Agnes.
“So? Have you?”
“No, I haven’t changed my mind. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. In fact, since I don’t have enough money to pay the full tuition anyway, I’m willing to use the money I’ve saved to hire female models.” She pushed her plate away, determined to save half her meal to take home for later.
“Really?”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”
Ruthie took a swig of her root beer. “Sorry, but you know you’ve never been the adventurous type, especially when it involves sex. I kind of assumed you’d talk yourself out of it by lunch time.”
“Hey, I’m just as adventurous as you.”
Ruthie lifted one eyebrow in disbelief.
Beth couldn’t lie. Ruthie knew her all too well. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m not as out there as you are sexually, but I’m pretty average. At least, I think I am.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are. From what you told me on my birthday, I think you’re holding back from doing what you’d really like to do.”
Oh, shit. That again.
They’d gone out drinking for Ruthie’s birthday a month earlier, and after a taxi ride home, they’d continued the drinking. Beth wasn’t much of a drinker, and after that night, she’d remembered why. When she had a little—okay, a lot—of alcohol in her, she had a tendency to tell her deepest, darkest secrets and desires. From what Ruthie had told her the next day, she’d gone into candid detail about the kind of sex she’d love to have with not one, but two men.
“You promised you wouldn’t bring that up again.”
“I don’t know what you’re embarrassed about. So your fantasies are like the books we read. Don’t you think most women wouldn’t like to have two sexy men ravage her?”
“I guess, but do they want the men to control them? To treat them like she’s their slave? To command their every action?” She fanned herself with her napkin. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?”
“Yeah, I think a lot of them do. I wouldn’t call it acting like their slave. It’s more like you’re doing whatever you can to please your men just like they’re giving you what you want, too. It’s kind of freeing to let a man, or men, take over, and you submit to them. Somehow, it made me feel like more of a woman.”
“So you’ve done that kind of thing?”
“Hey, I’m a curious girl. I’ve tried it out. I really liked it, too. I mean, really liked it.”
She was stunned as well as a little hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ruthie shrugged. “I don’t know. The first time was when I went to Amsterdam on that vacation last year. You had to stay home because you caught the flu, remember? I guess I didn’t want to make you feel bad because you’d missed all the fun.”
“Wow.” She sat back in her chair. “Wow.” She couldn’t resist asking, “Was it scary? Did they tie you up?”
“Yes to both questions. And it was freakin’ amazing.”
Ruthie was right. Finding out that her friend had taken a walk on the wild side did make her feel left out. She’d dreamed of experiencing the thrill of two men who would tell her what to do and exactly how they wanted it. But whether or not she could take a chance at trying it was another thing.
What would it be like to submit to the sexual desires of two men? As warm as she was, a shiver still swept down her spine. She shifted in her chair, the thrum of her pussy making her antsy.
“Bethie, you really need to try it. Whether it’s at a club that specializes in domination or with guys you really like and want to make a relationship with. Girl, put on some hooker heels and spikes and just do it. You won’t regret it as long as you have guidelines and everyone keeps it safe, sane, and consensual.”
At least she knew what Ruthie was talking about, but only because she’d read about it in erotic romance novels and online.
“I’d give it a shot if all the conditions were right.”
“Good to hear it.” Ruthie took another bite of her chicken parmesan. “You just have to be sure it’s what you really want.”
“You sound worried.”
“No, not worried.” Ruthie put her fork down, the next bite untaken. “It’s just that you’re a little…” She stalled, ducking her head and then picking up her fork and continuing to eat.
“I’m a little what?” She hadn’t known she’d find out so many revelations at lunch. Their usual talk consisted of the television shows they both loved, shopping, and work.
“Now don’t go getting mad. I’m just saying you can be kind of prudish around men. I remember how you were with Todd. You were too timid to try anything kinky with him, so how could you do that with anyone else? Hell, you knew Todd a full six months before you let him…you know.” She dropped her gaze down, piercing it downward as though looking straight at Beth’s crotch.
“Ruthie, keep your eyes on my face.” She felt the color rise to her cheeks.
“All I’m saying is that if you wouldn’t try anything with Todd in the privacy of your own bedroom, you’re not going to do it with someone else. And you thought you loved him.”
“Don’t remind me.” She had thought she loved him. Yet soon after finding him messing around with another girl, she’d realized that she’d only liked the idea of being in love. She hadn’t really loved Todd. “I was young and stupid.”
“Uh-huh. And now at the ripe old age of twenty-seven, you’re so much wiser.”
“I am, but that’s beside the point. I’m more experienced now, too.”
Ruthie scowled over the tip of her glass. “Oh, yeah. You’re so experienced. How many men have you gone out with in the past year since you kicked Todd to the corner?”
One. Ruthie knew the number as well as she did. “The point is that if given the chance, and with the right man—”
“Or men.”
She nodded. “Or men, I think I’d love to try, you know, that stuff.”
“Oh, my God, you can’t even say it. BDSM, Bethie. B. D. S. M.”
“Will you give me a break? Like I said, if the right men came along, then, I’d want to do it with them. I just haven’t met the right guy—”
“Or guys.”
“Yes, or guys, yet.”
“Okay. I believe you. So once you meet these guys, would you let them control you all the time? Or are you talking about submitting only in the bedroom? Personally, I can’t see letting a man tell me what to do outside of sexual playtime and I don
’t think you’d go for it, either.”
“You’re right. I wouldn’t, couldn’t, do that. But letting them take charge during sex? Yeah, I’d like to.” She checked the couple next to them. Thankfully, they didn’t act like they’d heard. “But twenty-four-seven? I don’t think so.”
“Yeah. Giving them control in the bedroom is one thing. Giving them control over your life is another. Still, a lot of girls do that. Some even when they don’t really want to.”
She bristled. Did her best friend think she was a push-over? “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I know you wouldn’t let anyone force you into doing something you didn’t want to do. You’re a strong woman, whether you realize it or not.”
Beth remained quiet for a few minutes, giving her irritation time to subside. “We’re wasting time talking about this stuff. Let’s get back to the calendar idea. How are we going to get firefighters to pose? We’re not doing it for a worthy cause, and I don’t think I can pay for both the men and the women models. And we want real firemen, right? But how? I mean, what’s in it for them? Especially the way we want them to do it?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got that figured out.”
“You do?” Beth’s nerves jumped into high gear. “How? What do you have in mind?”
Ruthie wasn’t looking at her any longer. Instead, her gaze was focused on the entrance. With growing wariness, Beth shifted in her seat to see who Ruthie was waving to.
Hell’s bells.
“Ruthie,” she whispered. “What did you do?”
Chapter Two
Beth didn’t realize she was gawking at the two gorgeous men walking toward them until one of them smiled at her. They were powerful men, both dressed in Fire Station No. 2 black T-shirts. They seemed older, not by much, but the confidence they exuded went far beyond their thirtyish years. Both wore jeans, one in black and the other in faded blues, and boots that were made for hard work and not style.
