Sex, Lies and Her Impossible Boss. Jennifer RaeЧитать онлайн книгу.

      SIX

      Faith watched as Cash creaked open the car door and slipped into the seat. The tissues were red with his blood and drops had fallen onto his crisp white shirt. Cracking his jaw and making him bleed was definitely not professional. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.

      ‘Cash, I’m so sorry.’

      ‘Forget it,’ his deep voice grumbled and her heart sank. This was not working. She’d got carried away back there. Sitting on his lap. She’d felt his hardness and got carried away. Thought something she shouldn’t have thought. Of course he had a hard-on. There was a girl sitting on his lap. He was a normal red-blooded male. She wasn’t anyone special. That hard-on wasn’t for her.

      But for a moment, when he was breathing into her mouth, she’d thought it was. She’d thought he felt it too. The buzz that fired her blood when his breath hit her skin. But then he’d moved and she’d realised he was uncomfortable and wanted her off. So she’d jumped off. And split his lip open.

      Seduction had never been her strong point. When she was young, she’d always been the girl standing in the corner. Watching the others snogging on the dance floor. And when she’d finally built up the courage to go further...things hadn’t gone well. Faith twisted her neck from side to side. Which was another reason she needed this job. She wasn’t exactly honest with Cash earlier. She did want to be successful—that was true—but the reason she chose sex and relationships rather than current affairs was that it enabled her to learn about sex in a way she’d never be able to on her own. And she’d learned a lot.

      Sometimes she thought she was ready to put those lessons into action. But now, whenever she actually met someone she thought she could like, they were more interested in inserting part A into slot B than allowing her to explore their body with her tongue. Which was exactly what she’d wanted to do with Cash five minutes ago. But now he was bleeding and angry and definitely not interested in her tongue.

      ‘Do you want to go to the emergency room?’

      ‘It’s a split lip. I don’t think we need to bother the surgeons.’

      ‘You should have moved your head.’

      ‘Me?’ He stared at the side of her head and her cheeks heated. He was about to blow up. Tell her what a screw-up she was. Abuse her and tell her she was an idiot. But he didn’t. He laughed. ‘So it was my big head that got in the way?’

      ‘Yes. I was just trying to get up.’

      He laughed again. ‘Well, I’m sorry for making you split my lip.’

      She glanced at him, surprised. He wasn’t cross, nor was he ignoring her. She smiled and turned back to the road. ‘That’s OK. Just don’t do it again.’

      He laughed again and took the tissues away from his lip. ‘How does it look?’ His lip was swollen and covered in blood.

      ‘Fine. Can’t even tell,’ she said, pushing the stick shift into fourth as she hit the motorway.

      They laughed again and started trying to impress each other with the most pathetic injury stories until Cash looked out of the window at the passing scenery. ‘Where are we going?’

      ‘Thornleigh.’

      ‘Thornleigh? As in the burbs?’

      ‘Yep. Housewives and private schools and swimming lessons. Sydney’s BDSM heartland.’

      ‘You’re kidding?’

      ‘No. It’s where Miss Kitty lives. Her clients are some of the most well-known people in Sydney. High society. Celebrities, soap stars, footy players. Anyone with cash goes to Miss Kitty’s parties.’ Faith glanced at him. She wondered if Miss Kitty’s world would be his scene.

      ‘What happens at these parties?’

      ‘I’ve only been to one. I’ve seen men being led around on dog collars and women whose butts were red raw from spanking.’

      To be honest, she’d been a little frightened and mortified when she’d first visited Kitty, but if her show had taught her anything it was to open her mind and find the source of pleasure in every act.

      ‘That doesn’t sound very sexy.’

      ‘It’s not the action so much as the feeling. Of being dominated. Of dominating. Of being in control or out of control. Like I said—sex isn’t always just sex.’

      ‘Is this what you’re into?’ Cash asked her quietly. She felt his eyes on her and was glad her window was down. He seemed to be asking as if he were interested in her answer. As if he wanted to know. As if the mistake she’d made earlier didn’t matter. As if he liked her anyway.

      ‘I like to try and understand relationships. The idea of being dominated or dominating has a lot to do with what one needs outside the bedroom. Sex is a manifestation of our whole life. Our attitude towards it is shaped by our lives—the way we feel about ourselves, our fears, our pasts.’

      He reached for the knobs of the radio and twisted, finding a station that was playing country music. Faith glanced at him—she didn’t take him for a country-music fan.

      ‘Sounds like you’re reading way too much into it.’ Cash stared ahead. ‘In my experience, sex has nothing to do with how you feel and more to do with what you want. Which is usually power. Sex is about power. Who has it, who wants it. And once you have the power, you can make someone do anything you want.’

      Faith’s neck prickled and her mouth dried up. ‘Is that what you do? Have sex with women to have power over them?’

      She felt his eyes hot on her. She knew he was looking at her intently, in that way he always did.

      ‘I have sex for pleasure. I don’t let emotions play any part. No one gets hurt that way.’

      ‘Someone always gets hurt.’

      Cash didn’t say any more; he just turned to look out of the window and they stayed in silence as the sound of Johnny Cash singing ‘Ring of Fire’ rang through the car.

      * * *

      Miss Kitty was in a bad mood. She’d had a load of cancellations. Apparently a competitor had opened up close by and was offering discounts.

      ‘As if it’s a supermarket!’ Kitty had bright blue hair and black fingernails but other than that she didn’t look too different from the other women walking the streets of the leafy northern suburb. She had on jeans and a long white top with colourful beads slung around her neck.

      While they toured her seemingly suburban house, Cash asked her about being a submissive. He wanted to know what it meant and why anyone would want to submit to another. Faith almost laughed. Trust Cash to not understand submission. It was a question, however, that seemed to make Kitty bristle. ‘It’s men like you who make the best submissives, honey. Men who think they can control everything and everyone. Being a submissive is about being attentive. Being aware of the needs of your dom. Doing whatever they need whenever they need it. It makes you a better lover. A devoted lover. Which is the best kind.’

      Faith watched Cash’s face. He wasn’t comfortable here. He wasn’t comfortable in Kitty’s dungeon. He wasn’t interested in her pulleys and straps. He didn’t even touch her collection of whips.

      ‘Can we have a minute to look around ourselves?’ Faith wondered if Miss Kitty would agree. She was mostly a private person but Faith had managed to gain her trust over the last few months. Kitty blinked and folded her arms.