Richard Haswell is not aggressive or pompous with it though. In my experience, men who behave like that are invariably wannabe Alphas. Haswell carries himself like a lord, with an easy authority that cuts the air. He wears wealth and power like a mantle, unconsciously and taking the two entirely for granted. His manner is courteous and natural.If you can walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch...James waves me forward. "Richard, this is Kirstie Jamieson, who recently started as concierge in the main building reception. I was telling you about her the other day if you recall... and this is her..." he pauses, ever so briefly, "... partner, Ryan Dougherty, who I invited here today to discuss a possible tender in which he may be interested. Kirstie, Ryan, this is Richard Haswell, CEO of the Haswell corporation, and his wife Elizabeth.""Nice to meet you Mr Haswell, Mrs Haswell..." I hold out my hand to shake, as does Ryan, but as I set eyes on Elizabeth Haswell, I double-take b
Haswell breaks in, speaking slowly, thoughtfully. "It is worth pointing out that James' 'eternal gratitude' could be worth quite a lot to Kirstie. He's in a position to do her a lot of favours. And you..." He nods down at the documents, lying ignored by Ryan's hand."I don't give a fuck about James' favours," spits Ryan. "What is this? Some kind of conspiracy? If you think I'm going to be bribed into allowing you to endanger her..."James holds up a hand, interrupting him. "Ryan, I would say exactly the same were our positions reversed. I give you my word that I am not getting Kirstie involved. I am simply asking that she does exactly what she is already doing as a normal part of her job; watching the comings and goings of the Haswell Offices. The only addition is that I have requested that she reports directly to me."Ryan stares at the floor, arms folded. "And what does that involve? This 'reporting'?""She simply hits a button under the counter of her desk, and it sends an a
James raises his brows. "My apologies, Kirstie. I meant no offence. Of course, you buy what you can afford. But in this case, given the excellent work you did this morning, I want you to have the equipment to match the job. I assume you have no objection to a phone upgrade?""Er, no..."???"I didn't think so. I'll get something ordered for you with a decent camera and a lot more memory. I'd like to look at the laptop you're using too. What model is it?""Um, I've no idea. It's just what was being used on the desk when I started the job, to book visitors in and out.""Alright, I'll take a look at it when I'm passing through... Um, no, on second thoughts, it would look a bit odd for me to be sitting at the reception desk..." He stands, opens the door, calling out. "Francis, could you pop down to the lobby please and bring up Kirstie's laptop for me..."Five minutes later, there is a tap on the door: Francis, looking at me curiously, the lobby laptop in hand."Thanks, Franc
The cursor whirls across the screen, capturing imagery, clicking as it goes.Ye gods, but James knows what he's doing...Then I smile wryly to myself. You don't get to be Technical Director of a multi-billion corporation by being incompetent.Like he said... there's a reason he has the job...So, what now?*****"Could we stay in tonight? Just you and me? Get takeaway food perhaps?""Sounds good," murmurs Ryan. "I'd like to have you all to myself."He holds me in his arms and we dance to the lovely music washing through the air.As we sway around the room, my face pressed close to his chest, I inhale the sweet perfume of my... my what? My Master? My Dom certainly. My Lover too?The moment feels trapped in time, one of those endless moments where precious seconds are captured and preserved, held forever in the heart.Does he feel it too?He kisses my cheek, then my forehead. "Kirstie...""Mmmm...?" "I know you love the excitement and the thrill... and so
I sit on the dune, staring out to sea where, under a stiff breeze the surf rolls in, tossing its white horses onto the beach.The surf fascinates me, frothing and boiling as it dances over the sand, holding me in its spell in the way a flame will hypnotise, enrapturing the eye. A million white foaming bubbles race and toss and die, only to be reborn on the next wave.The dogs frolic in the waves; at least Emma, Meg and Archie do. Mac is far too dignified to get wet, and he settles for exploring the strand line, poking through seaweed, dead crabs and driftwood. Sometimes, he finds a plastic bottle or other floater that he identifies as entertainment, bringing over his offering and inviting me to do something interesting with this enticing object, like play tag or fetch, or make it go...If I'm really lucky, he'll find a dead seagull and roll. As it is, the car is going to be full of salt and sand, but everyone, me included, will have had a good day's exercise. The sky is blue a
This looks a bit more interesting. It's a good start that he uses my name. Of course, it's not my real name, but nobody on-line gets to know who I really am until I've met them, and often not then. His profile reads well. This one's actually literate. He can string a sentence together and doesn't sound cheap or tacky.On his profile, he doesn't sound bad physically either... 'Attractive', '5 feet eleven, dark-haired, clean shaven, non-smoker. Physical attraction is always important, but even more so when you're screwing for screwing's sake. I don't want a husband or a boyfriend. I want a fuck-buddy, someone who'll not try to take over my life.I've had too much of control freaks...Mmmm... Travels for his work and wants to call by every few weeks...A wife in every port?Education... University level. Interests... movies, classical and jazz music, politics, science, art, the outdoors...Bit of a Renaissance Man...Marital status... Separated...Could mean anything...
"You can ask.""Is Debbie really your name?""No, of course not. On a dating site like that, do you think I'm going to hand out my details to anyone before I've had a chance to meet up and eyeball them?""Very sensible. It's quite dangerous doing what you're doing, especially for a woman.""I'm careful. I follow the rules. No name. No address. Meet in a public place...""I'm pleased to hear it. Have you encountered any...?" He hesitates."Freaks? Looneys? Yes, a few. Most of them I manage to weed out at the e-mail and messaging stage. Only one got past my first defences so that so that I actually met him..."He looks intrigued. "Really? And...""We'd talked on the phone a couple of times before we agreed on a date. He had a beautiful speaking voice, all honey and cream. Y'know, a Richard Burton, or Morgan Freeman, or Alan Rickman kind of voice. But when I met him, I knew instantly that there was something wrong..."He cocks his head. "Instantly? How?""It's hard to
Ryan eyes me speculatively. "Without wishing to seem pushy, did you have any plans for later this evening?""Not at all. I wanted to see how this worked out."A smile plays over his lips. "Rather well so far as I can see... Can I offer you... coffee... back at my hotel?"*****And so, not for the first time, I enter a stranger's hotel room. This is where I find out if he's really what he appears to be.A nervous tingle runs down my spine, the doubt of the unknown; the knowledge that, just possibly, I have misjudged and this man is... a crackpot, a loony, a weirdo...And of course, the doubt is part of the thrill... "When did you book this room?" I ask."I'm staying here anyway. I wasn't making assumptions. As I told you, I travel for my work and I use this hotel regularly.""Ah..."He hangs his jacket neatly over a chair, then dims the lights"Would you actually like some coffee? Or would you prefer wine?" he asks. "It's always a little embarrassing, isn't it? Th