In the finale to this twisted tale
of lust, Joe promises to give Courtney her money if she'll do one last thing:
Be his date to a company party and let him use her for a night—in every hole!
Courtney agrees, but only because she knows Joe is the only man who can satisfy
her own burning desire to be dominated. The fact that he's her sister's man only
makes this bad girl hotter!
I did not expect the slap. It came
so quickly, one minute I was leering at her, the next I was staring at the
floor. I shook myself, and cocked my head back. Courtney still looked mad, but
“Fair enough,” I said.
“You can do that again, if you want.”
«You…" she started.
“Take them off.”
She remained planted to the ground,
a buxom statue, a sweaty, organic embodiment of all my sexual demons. I wanted
to peel off her clothes and taste every wet crevice she hid underneath them.
What tickled me, though, insofar as I could be tickled, was the glimpses of
superiority that I caught from her time and again. She knew I wanted her; there
could be no mistaking that; but did she recognize how much I wanted her, how
strenuously I needed to sink myself inside her, how badly I wanted to hold her,
and squeeze her, and hear her curse me and groan? She thought I wanted her body. That was true enough. But did she know I wanted, inside her body, her ignorant, evil little heart? I didn't want to love her or be loved by her. I wanted the satisfaction of her loathing.
I reached into my pocket. The hundreds appeared, slightly damp from the sweat of my body, but neatly folded
in a metal clip. Courtney's eyes registered the cash, but her mouth betrayed
her. It was surprise that I saw. I smiled and tucked the cash away again.
“You said that was just five
“No, that's all of it. I just
didn't know how else to get you inside. And believe me, when I lose my clothes,
you're free to take it all. I'll keep my word about that at least,” I
said. “And you'll get it. But the night's not over.”
“No,” she said.
“Take them off, Courtney.”
Without taking her eyes off me, she fiddled with her heel beneath her. I didn't break the stare. I watched her descend, heard the clop of her heel hit the ground, then the other. Her toes
slid the shoes from her feet, and slid them behind her. The heels must have
been several inches, because now her nose was about level with my chin. We
stood there in silence for a moment, her seething, me enjoying the power. I could do anything with her, I thought. Malevolent thoughts swirled in my brain,
but if I had to be honest, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.
“You know what you're here
for?” I said.
Her lips hardened to a tight line.
My eyes led down her chin to the stiff, proud neck, to her deep cleavage, and the sparkling black dress. I wanted to throw her down and make her say my name.
She never would, I thought, with a nervous, thrilling flutter in my stomach.
“You going to say anything?” I said.
“Let's get this over
with,” she said.