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The Domville 3 (The Domville #3) Page 2


  ‘I do, but these are about three inches higher,’ she retorted. ‘Like I need a broken ankle on top of everything else.’

  ‘Stop moaning, I have alcohol and testosterone withdrawals, can we get moving?’

  ‘Don’t you dare leave me at the bar on my own,’ Lisa warned as we made our way to the lift.

  ‘As if,’ I scoffed. ‘What do you take me for, some desperate slut?’

  ‘Yes,’ she giggled, then moaned as I punched her arm.

  ‘It has been a week,’ I pouted. ‘I’m seriously dehydrated and need some fluids in me sooner than later. Any longer without sex I might shrivel into one of the Egyptian Mummies.’

  ‘You’re a dirty cow, baby sister,’ Lisa laughed as she pressed for the ground floor. I linked arms with her and kissed the side of her head. It was good to see her laugh given what she was going through. I knew exactly what I’d do if I was in her shoes, I’d be testing someone else out, but it was her decision to make. That didn’t mean I couldn’t give her some not so gentle encouragement and a shove in the right direction.

  The Bar

  I saw her looking down, tugging on the hem of her dress, then tilting her ankles to inspect my skyscraper shoes that she’d borrowed. She wasn’t comfortable, this was a new look for her. Lisa always looked beautiful and presentable. Never sexy. Tonight she looked every inch the sex kitten.

  ‘Stop fidgeting, you look stunning and lean back. Weight on the heel, not on the balls of your feet, or you’ll definitely fall over. A broken leg is definitely the last complication you need this weekend,’ I muttered. I strode confidently across the marble foyer to the Champagne Bar, my eyes lighting up the second I stepped inside and spotted the hoards of males gathered. It was like a speed dating convention and we were the only women here for the dates. ‘Jesus, I’m coming here more often. Look at all the man candy,’ I whispered to Lisa, licking my bottom lip subconsciously.

  ‘Friday night after work drinks by the look of it,’ she nodded, as we made our way to the bar. My eyes roved like a hawk’s, hunting for my next conquest. Being in here was like winning the lottery. These were affluent businessmen. The tailored three piece suits probably cost more than my clapped out Vauxhall Astra and after a couple of glances at what these guys were packing, they definitely had more horsepower.

  ‘This is a veritable goldmine of cock. Someone hand me a miner’s helmet and budgie right now, I’m going in as soon as we have a drink in our hands,’ I whispered, my voice having taken on a breathy, sex filled tone.

  ‘Budgie,’ Lisa laughed. ‘We’ve moved on a bit since then.’

  ‘Well something’s needed in here. I’m about to choke on the testosterone flooding this place. These aren’t your run of the mill guys, Lisa. This is alpha male central and I’m one kitty who’s looking to be stroked, petted and tamed tonight,’ I nodded, licking my lips again as I did another sweep with my eyes. Christ, I was like a cat on heat. So many toms and they weren’t immune to our presence either. There was a serious weighting of males in the ratios in this bar and given my flirting expertise, many had already taken the bait and were checking out who else was eyeing us up. Game on! As Lisa ordered a couple of glasses of Champagne, I deliberately leaned forward, propping my elbows on the bar and sticking out my backside, then gently moving it as I flexed my back. That would give them all something to look at.

  By the time I turned around, glass in hand, we had a couple of admirers at our sides. Lisa was out of her comfort zone. I saw her tugging the hem of her dress again and absentmindedly playing with her ring finger. I’d insisted she leave her engagement ring in the suite. Not that any self-respecting, sexually aggressive guy, would give a shit about a ring, but given her lack of flirting skills, she needed all the help she could get. Me, on the other hand, I was in my element and glasses of fizz kept coming. The more we drank, the more Lisa started to relax, but I could tell none of the men around us were doing anything for her. They weren’t for me either. Good looking, smartly dressed, filthy rich and dead fucking boring. If one more tried to impress me with the size of his stock portfolio, I was liable to scream. Cock portfolio, now that was something that would pique my interest. Guys ought to carry one around on them, like business cards. Handing it out to find the woman with the chops to take it on. I giggled at my inadvertent play on words, my roving mind suddenly stopping as I caught the eye of the guy who’d been playing on the grand piano in the corner since we’d walked in. I hadn’t even glanced in his direction and right now, I was wondering why the hell not.

  He looked more my age, early twenties, with a surfer mussed up mop of dark hair. Not the best looking guy I’d ever seen, but looks didn’t make you come. I’d lay money on those skilled and speedy fingers, which were shooting up and down the ivory and black keys, being extremely skilled at making me come. I turned to warn Lisa that I might have someone lined up and spotted a blond haired guy, sitting at the other end of the bar, checking her out. Now if he wasn’t her type, I’d eat my damn knickers. Tall, decent looking body and pretty good looking for an older guy. It seemed Lisa had just spotted him as well, as his eyes were fixed on her as he tipped his glass her way and winked. I giggled and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

  ‘Hot damn. He’s sexy as hell, Lisa and he seems to have the hots for you. Badly!’

  ‘Please, he looks old enough to be my father,’ she retorted, shooting me a glare, but quickly looking back over at him. O yeah, I knew her type. Older guy or not, she was interested, however much she protested.

  ‘Nothing wrong with a sugar daddy, Sis. Especially not one with a face and body like that. Age equals experience, which means an obvious advantage for you. Besides, he only looks in his late thirties, early forties. Definitely nothing wrong with that. Go and get your flirt on.’

  ‘My flirt on?’ She whipped her head around to gaze at me, dumbfounded. ‘I don’t even know how to get my flirt on. I’ve never “got my flirt on” before. Brady asked me out, I said yes, that’s as far as my flirting skills go.’

  ‘Well you’re going to have to learn fast. I’ve got my eye on someone so you might be on your own anytime soon,’ I grinned. Nothing like forcing the issue before she talked herself out of finding another guy attractive.

  ‘Some wing woman you are. Which one?’

  ‘I think I’m going slightly crazy as it’s none of these seriously hot guys in suits.’

  ‘Gaston the butler,’ she asked with a giggle.

  ‘Jog on!’ I screwed up my face in horror. Poor Gaston, excellent butler he may be, but that was my idea of a sugar grandaddy, so not my bag.

  ‘Who then?’

  ‘There’s just something about that piano player,’ I sighed, Lisa following my gaze as I looked back over at him. ‘It’s the fingers,’ I confirmed. I could feel her surprise radiating off her. He definitely wasn’t my usual type. ‘Watch them go and imagine those playing your clit. Mad skills. I guarantee he’d get a gold medal if there was a finger banging Olympics.’

  ‘He’s working, he’s not going to pack up early just because you’re offering sex.’

  ‘Maybe not, but he must get a break and I don’t need long. In fact I’m going to go and find out when he’s off.’ Before she had a chance to say another word, I was halfway across the room, weaving my way through the tables to approach him. He was oblivious, totally lost watching his long fingers as they raced up and down the keys. I stifled a groan as I leaned in. ‘I’m in need of a retune if you’re getting off anytime soon. And if you’re not, I could help you out in that area too,’ I whispered. I wasn’t a fan of beating around the bush. Guys were either interested or not, why waste time trying to convince them? He looked up at me as he continued to play and a grin spread across his face.

  ‘I’m also quite fond of playing pool,’ he winked. ‘Meet me in the lobby in half an hour if you fancy heading down to the Spa.’

  I nodded with a giggle. Sex on his piano would have been my preferred choice, but given the bar was packed and
likely to be for hours, a swimming pool was the next best option. I ran my hands down my dress slowly, in part to smooth it down, in part to let him imagine how well his fingers were going to play my body. Blowing him a kiss I headed back to the bar, to see Lisa staring at me with her mouth ajar.

  ‘You’ve got half an hour before he tinkles my ivories and makes me sing,’ I grinned.

  ‘How do you do it?’ she asked, awe in her voice. I just shrugged with a wink. Teaching Lisa the finer points of pulling was going to take a hell of a lot longer than I had available right now. She shook her head and turned around to get more drinks, but the barman slid a glass her way before she had a chance to ask for any.

  ‘Compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar,’ he smiled, flicking his head down to where the older blond was sitting. He shot her a seriously sexy smile and I chuckled as I heard her moan softly.

  ‘Go,’ I ordered. ‘If that’s not an invitation I don’t know what is.’

  ‘I can’t,’ she replied.

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’ I enquired. She was so in there, it would be like taking candy off a bloody baby.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m so confused,’ she groaned as she looked back around at me for support.

  ‘Don’t worry about me. The minute piano man’s on his break I’ll be ditching you with no second thoughts. Go, talk to him at least. No one’s saying you have to do anything, but if you don’t I’ll be slapping you with a stupid stick and dragging him to my bedroom. He’s too hot to let slip through your fingers. He gives Brady a run in the looks and body department.’

  ‘Isn’t that a bit wrong though,’ she frowned. ‘Me thinking about a man who reminds me of Brady?’

  ‘No more wrong than him fucking someone else only last week. Man the fuck up, Lisa. Even if you’re not interested in finding out what it’s like with someone else, get even for Christ’s sake, or you’ll always regret it.’

  ‘What am I supposed to say to him? I don’t know him.’

  ‘Just go over and thank him for the drink, he’ll lead the conversation, that’s if he wants to converse. He looks ready to throw you down and fuck you on the floor. You’re so in there. Easiest score ever,’ I nodded.

  ‘Shit,’ she muttered as she slid off her stool. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this.’

  ‘Me neither,’ I giggled. ‘I’ll make a harlot out of you yet. Sex isn’t always about love you know. Sex can be just that. A raw urgent need to get off. Welcome to a liberated world. See you in an hour or so.’

  ‘Don’t count your chickens just yet,’ she warned with a roll of her eyes.

  ‘Sis, if you’re not complaining of a bruised and abused fanny by the morning, I’m going to be sorely disappointed in you.’ I gave her a peck on the cheek and watched as she tried to walk sexily over to where he was sitting.

  It was the Champagne. It had to be the Champagne making her this brave. That and her bloody fiancé fucking someone else. Pact or no pact, that was one line even I wouldn’t cross. If the day ever came that I was ready to settle down, I’d be as devoted to faithfulness as I was right now to ensuring I had a varied and fulfilled sex life. I stayed watching them for a while, making sure she was ok and not in need of a bail out. Judging by the way the guy was smiling, she was doing ok. I was about to order more Champagne when I was suddenly aware that the piano was no longer playing. I looked around to see piano man leaning against it, ankles crossed, as he flicked his head to the exit. Had I just been sucked into a time warp? That was more like five minutes than thirty. I smirked, he was obviously hot for me and had finished early. I ran my eyes up and down him. He looked like James Bond dressed in a tux, a slightly more weedy Bond than Daniel Craig, but he oozed geek charm and the thought of those fingers was too tempting to ignore. After casting a final glance Lisa’s way I quickly made my way over towards the exit.

  The Piano Man

  Mandy

  ‘I don’t usually pick up women in the bar,’ he advised as I drew level with him and we walked out into the lobby together.

  ‘Technically I picked you up, but don’t tell me you’re a virgin,’ I groaned, flashing him a frustrated glance. ‘I’m not in the mood for a work experience kind of guy tonight.’

  ‘No,’ he laughed, his green eyes lighting up with humour. ‘Definitely not, but fraternisation with guests is strictly off limits.’

  ‘Would it help if I told you I was staying in the Signature suite? I was told whatever I wanted, I’d get.’ I seriously doubted sex with employees was what they had in mind when they made that offer.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he replied, with a reassuring grin. ‘I fully intend to make the most of my break. It’s not every day a woman as gorgeous as you offers sex on a plate.’

  ‘I bet it’s not any day at all, what with the competition of those elite snobs in there with their bloody Ferraris and whatnot,’ I scoffed. His cheeks immediately coloured up. Yeah, like any woman who could afford to drink at The Domville bar would look twice at the piano man, when she was surrounded by millionaires. ‘Anyway, I’m more a Ford type of girl.’

  ‘Really?’ he uttered as we left the lobby and headed down the corridor towards the spa.

  ‘Yeah, back seats,’ I shrugged, with a wink. ‘Hard to get your freak on in a two seater with a low roof and phallic symbol gear stick.’ He laughed and reached into his pocket to pull out his mobile.

  ‘You’re not like the usual type that drinks here, you’re down to earth. I like it.’

  ‘Well I figured as much when you took me up on my offer. And even better I only charge £500 an hour,’ I teased, inspecting my nails as I waited for his response.

  ‘What?!’ he spluttered, halting in his tracks. I laughed and patted his back.

  ‘Sorry, my sense of humour. So not a prostitute.’

  ‘Christ, you nearly gave me a heart attack,’ he advised, letting out a sigh of relief. He held his phone to his ear as we continued down to the Spa. This wasn’t my usual hot and heavy, can’t keep our hands off each other, type of one night stand. But those dextrous, long fingers of his had my curiosity peaked. ‘Butler, can you turn the cameras off in the Spa? … Yeah … no … I’ve only got a short break, I’ll let you know as soon as I’m done … Yeah, I know the drill by now.’ He rolled his eyes as he cut off the call.

  ‘Butler?’ I queried.

  ‘Head of Security. Staff aren’t supposed to use the Spa after hours, but we have an agreement that if any of us use it, he’ll “lose” the footage if management asks.’

  ‘An agreement?’ I asked. For head of security in a place like The Domville, I doubted he’d risk his job over something so minor as turning a blind eye while the staff took advantage of some pool time.

  ‘Yeah, I caught him fucking Danielle, the sous chef, in the laundry room.’

  ‘Sounds like a game of Cluedo. Butler, the security chief, in the laundry room with the sous chef and a spatula. Hardly a sackable offence, surely?’

  ‘No, but it’s a castration offence if his wife finds out,’ he chuckled, pulling a key card from his pocket as we approached the glazed Spa entrance doors. Slipping inside behind him, the heat radiating through the reception from the pool wrapped itself around me like a warm hug. Piano man surprised me by spinning me around, pushing me up against the wall and kissing me. He’d seemed the geeky, more reserved type. I’d thought it was me that was going to have to make all the moves. His hands moved to my hips, his fingers kneading like a kitten feeding from its mother as his lips worked against mine, a slight groan escaping from his mouth. I closed my eyes, my hands reaching under his dinner jacket to clutch his slim waist. Not a bad kisser, decent body, a little weedy compared to my usual tastes. Definitely not buff like Roger and my lips weren’t tingling the way they had with him. Roger? Was I seriously thinking about the London lothario, God’s self-proclaimed gift to womankind, Rampant fucking Roger, when I was getting it on with someone else? That man was a bloody menace. As if it wasn’t bad enough he tried it on ev
ery time I saw him, now he was making cameos during my make out sessions?

  I parted my lips and let piano man thrust his tongue into my mouth, figuring I really ought to ask his name. I couldn’t keep calling him “piano man” for the rest of his break. He looked like an Alan to me, or maybe a Reginald, Wayne or Archibald. Was Archibald even a name? Had I just made that up? Archibald. I sighed at the thought of Roger’s bare cock. I preferred manscaping. Not only did it make a cock look a hell of a lot bigger, but it meant I didn’t have to hack my way through the undergrowth if a bit of ball play was on the cards. Nothing worse than choking on a stray pube, or worse flossing your teeth with it. Sucking a hairy ball was like eating an unpeeled Kiwi. There was no excuse nowadays. I wondered if piano man was waxed? I bet he had a tattoo of a baby grand down there. No, I groaned inwardly, maybe he had a baby sized cock too. I frowned at the thought. I was after a full sized one tonight, not miniature size, that was for sure. I also chastised myself for not being in the moment. An hour or so ago I’d been horny as hell, now here I was more focussed on previous conquests and name guessing. I decided to put my fears to rest and slipped a hand between us and grasped him firmly in my palm.

  ‘Jesus,’ he gasped, breaking our lip lock as I smirked. Not baby, not grand. Somewhere in the middle. I could work with that.

  ‘How long’s your break?’

  ‘Half an hour,’ he panted, looking down as he heard his zip being lowered.

  ‘Well we’ve already wasted five minutes of it. How about we speed things up and get to the reason we’re both here?’ I suggested, slipping my hand into his boxers and feeling his warm erection flex in my palm.