“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” Jordan says. He looks at me as he takes off his suit coat. I watch him as he drapes it over a nearby chair. Then he untucks his shirt from his pants and begins to unbutton it. A moment later, it lands on top of the coat. He smiles at me.
But his smile reminds me of Quin when things finally fell into place with Rochelle, and I look away. Down at Nadia. I have her full attention and I don’t like it. “Close your eyes,” I say.
She obeys. Chin still lifted.
“And lower your fucking head, whore.”
She lowers her head.
I look at Jordan to see if he’ll say anything about this, but he doesn’t. He’s too busy unbuckling his belt. A second later he’s got his cock out. Fists it, then pumps it. It’s hard and thick in his hand.
“She’s going to suck your dick,” Jordan says to me.
“Is she?” I laugh.
He nods. “And I’m gonna help her.”
I raise my eyebrows at that, then shake my head so Nadia won’t know I’m rejecting the offer.
Jordan smiles and nods back a, Yes, I am. “Watch me,” he says, walking over to Nadia. He grabs her hair and says, “Keep your eyes closed, Nadia. And crawl forward a little.”
She crawls. Jordan guides her by the hair and then yanks on it to signal stop. She’s right in front of me. Jordan reaches down, takes one of her hands from behind her back, and places it over my cock. When his eyes meet mine again, he has a look on his face that says, See.
“Take out Bric’s cock, Nadia.”
She uses the one hand—and only the one hand—to pull my pajama pants down and take me out. I’m half hard already just from the little show Jordan is putting on. But it only takes a few pumps of her warm palm to get me all the way there.
“That’s nice,” Jordan says. “Now put it behind your back again.”
She obeys just as Jordan scoots closer, so he’s standing directly behind her. His cock is hard too, and he presses it to the back of her head as he places his palms against her temples.
He pushes her face towards me and says, “Open your mouth, Nadia. Wider.” He chuckles. “Bric is bigger than that.”
I look down—watching—as she opens wide and Jordan guides her head until the tip of my cock passes between her lips and rests on her warm tongue. “Lick him, Nadia,” Jordan says.
Her tongue begins to twirl around the tip of my head. She licks, then drags her tongue all the way down my shaft. I realize that Jordan is the one controlling her. She obeys the pressure he places on her temples. He guides her back up and then pushes her forward until she’s got my cock in her mouth again.
I look up at Jordan and he smiles.
I manage a crooked grin. It’s hot, I decide. And not something we’ve ever done before. But I redirect my attention back to Nadia, because Jordan is urging her to take more of me in her mouth. He pushes on her head, forcing my cock down into her throat. I feel her contract around me—almost gagging but not quite.
And that must not be enough for Jordan, because he makes her take more.
She is choking when he finally pulls her head back. Drool falls out of her mouth, slides down her chin, and drips onto her dress.
Jordan moves his hand downward, noticing my gaze, and yanks the dress down until one tit comes free. It hangs out, perky and plump from the surrounding fabric. He plays with her nipple as his other hand guides her back to my waiting cock.
He helps her blow me. In his own way.
And I enjoy it… a lot. I close my eyes, wanting very badly to lie back, but I’m standing up and so I can’t completely let go.
My hands join Jordan’s on her head. He gives me space. Then, once I’ve got a rhythm going and I’m pumping her head good and fast as I fuck her throat, he places his hand on top of mine.
I don’t bother looking at him. If he wants to make it more personal… fuck it. It feels good.
Nadia is making the most delicious noises as I pump my cock in her mouth. Gagging and whimpering. So very, very different than the way she was last night.
When I close my eyes and start moaning too, Jordan reaches under my balls and grips them tight as I spew my release in long, contracting waves of pleasure.
She swallows. Twice. “Fuck,” I whisper, once I’m finished. I needed that.
I open my eyes and see Jordan groaning as he fists his cock now. He grabs Nadia by the hair, spins her around, and shoots his climax on the front of her dress.
“Yes,” he says, still pumping his cock. “Yes.”
He takes a long breath before looking at me. Smiles. “OK, decision time, Bric. Do you wanna play a game with me?”
I look down at Nadia, who still has her hands behind her back and her eyes closed.
“She wants it,” Jordan says. “If you reach between her legs right now, you’ll find a warm pool of gimme more in there.”
I grin. Chuckle. Then give in. “Why the fuck not?” I say back. “But only for tonight.”
“Sure,” Jordan says. “We can make it a one-time thing. Nadia won’t care, will you, baby?”
She keeps her eyes closed as she shakes her head. “No, sir. I’m here to do whatever you want.”
That sweet, slightly deep voice has my full attention again.
Maybe I was wrong about her. Maybe she’ll make a good player.
At the very least, she’s a good start.
Chapter Four - Nadia
One night, Jordan said. Just one night. I keep repeating the mantra over and over in my head as I concentrate on keeping my eyes closed.
They walk away to get their drinks again, leaving me in the center of the room on my knees. I still have my stupid cape on and I’m beginning to sweat from the extra layer.
Why am I doing this?
Luck. I remind myself.
But it’s more than that and it takes more resolve not to smile right now than it did to let Jordan control me.
These asshole men think they’re so in control. So assertive, and aggressive, and appealing. And they think I am weak. So willing, and compliant, and obedient.
We’ll see.
They talk for a while after that. They settle on Bric’s couch. I can see them as I peek through my half-closed eyes, their legs open or propped up on one knee. They drink their stupid drinks and ignore me, still here in the middle of the floor, come drying on my dress.
Some time later Jordan orders me to lie back and open my legs. I just keep my eyes shut and try to relax. Forget where I am, what they’re doing, and concentrate on the dance going on in my head. I choreograph an entire routine as they play at being men with power.
Still, there’s the nagging doubt in my head.
Do I really want to get involved like this again? I moved away. I’m making a new life for myself. I’m going places.
“So what kind of pay does she get?” Bric asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
Are they talking about me? I wasn’t listening.
“Who says she needs to get paid?” Jordan replies.
“They always get paid. You know this. It’s in the contract. We all have to get something out of it—”