Minion demanded.
“Think you can steal a file folder from Heidi’s office for me?” She watched the ruddy little face intently.
“Oh snap. You want yours or someone else’s?” Minion clicked her fingers together and grinned.
Showered and dressed in a simple leotard, Kiki leaned close to the mirror to apply her makeup. The near constant eddies of weakness collided with persistent urge to be elsewhere. It took every ounce of her concentration to apply her mascara. When a rather violent tug contracted all of her muscles, she scowled and stormed over to the phone. Picking it up, she rang reception.
“Richard Casere’s suite, please.” She tapped her foot impatiently and carried the cordless receiver back to her makeup station. The other dancers hustled, but everyone seemed to lack the usual energy associated with a new performance. Maybe because they had no idea what the performance would be. Heidi said improvisation—so they had to watch Kiki and match her dance.
She managed to smear her makeup, thanks to the trembling in her limbs—trembling that had something to do with the sexy beast. She used a tissue to blot at the black smear carefully. The phone rang through, and a masculine voice answered it on the first ring. It wasn’t Richard’s voice however. “Put Richard on.” She didn’t bother to tack on a please.
Apparently she didn’t need to either. “Kristina?” The sound of his voice wrapping around her name sent a pulse of heat from her breasts to her sex and back up again. Peanut butter crunch on toast, he’s better than chocolate.
“Kiki. And stop calling me—I have a show to put on and I just screwed up my makeup. I will see you after the performance unless you keep pissing me off.” Proud that she didn’t dissolve into a quivering mass of sexual need and satisfied with telling him off, she hung up and went back to repairing her makeup.
Britta appeared in her periphery and leaned a hip against the counter. Cosmetics applied to perfection, right down to her ruby lipstick and glittering eye shadow, Britta looked like Kiki always wanted to—together and seductive without being slutty.
Not that there is anything wrong with slutty when it teaches a lesson… Amusement streamed through her. She dressed slutty on any number of occasions, just to tweak him when his arrogance got out of hand—
The mascara applicator fell to the counter as the constant drag pulling her sideways ceased.
“You okay?” Britta caught her arm, steadying her. Kiki belatedly realized she swayed and forced herself to sit down.
“I used to dress slutty just to piss him off.” Planting her hands on the tabletop, she trembled. “I used to dress slutty just to piss him off.”
“You realize you’re repeating yourself, right?” Britta bit her lip and tilted her head sideways. “Honey, you’re really pale. You want me to get you a drink?”
Her stomach cramped hard at the offer, but she shook her head. “No—I mean yes—but not right now. I used to dress… I knew him.” She waited for the thought to get swept away like every other half-formed memory she managed to glimpse, but it stuck stubbornly and she looked up at Britta, grinning. “I knew him. What he said about knowing me? I knew him too.”
“Yeah, okay. You’ve got the crazies tonight, but we need to know what we’re dancing to.”
“No.” Kiki bounced up. “I mean—yeah, I’ll tell you. But I met someone last night and…”
“You met someone and you’re just now mentioning it?” Rising, hands on her hips, Britta gave her a hard look. “You went out and didn’t invite me?”
Wrapping her in a quick embrace. “Not on purpose and don’t be like that. I just had to get out and I didn’t realize he was calling me, but he was and I went and then he was there and we were together and we up to his room. Oh my God can the man kiss, and three orgasms later I had to get back down here, but I was late and Stan was pissed and I woke
“Think you can steal a file folder from Heidi’s office for me?” She watched the ruddy little face intently.
“Oh snap. You want yours or someone else’s?” Minion clicked her fingers together and grinned.
Showered and dressed in a simple leotard, Kiki leaned close to the mirror to apply her makeup. The near constant eddies of weakness collided with persistent urge to be elsewhere. It took every ounce of her concentration to apply her mascara. When a rather violent tug contracted all of her muscles, she scowled and stormed over to the phone. Picking it up, she rang reception.
“Richard Casere’s suite, please.” She tapped her foot impatiently and carried the cordless receiver back to her makeup station. The other dancers hustled, but everyone seemed to lack the usual energy associated with a new performance. Maybe because they had no idea what the performance would be. Heidi said improvisation—so they had to watch Kiki and match her dance.
She managed to smear her makeup, thanks to the trembling in her limbs—trembling that had something to do with the sexy beast. She used a tissue to blot at the black smear carefully. The phone rang through, and a masculine voice answered it on the first ring. It wasn’t Richard’s voice however. “Put Richard on.” She didn’t bother to tack on a please.
Apparently she didn’t need to either. “Kristina?” The sound of his voice wrapping around her name sent a pulse of heat from her breasts to her sex and back up again. Peanut butter crunch on toast, he’s better than chocolate.
“Kiki. And stop calling me—I have a show to put on and I just screwed up my makeup. I will see you after the performance unless you keep pissing me off.” Proud that she didn’t dissolve into a quivering mass of sexual need and satisfied with telling him off, she hung up and went back to repairing her makeup.
Britta appeared in her periphery and leaned a hip against the counter. Cosmetics applied to perfection, right down to her ruby lipstick and glittering eye shadow, Britta looked like Kiki always wanted to—together and seductive without being slutty.
Not that there is anything wrong with slutty when it teaches a lesson… Amusement streamed through her. She dressed slutty on any number of occasions, just to tweak him when his arrogance got out of hand—
The mascara applicator fell to the counter as the constant drag pulling her sideways ceased.
“You okay?” Britta caught her arm, steadying her. Kiki belatedly realized she swayed and forced herself to sit down.
“I used to dress slutty just to piss him off.” Planting her hands on the tabletop, she trembled. “I used to dress slutty just to piss him off.”
“You realize you’re repeating yourself, right?” Britta bit her lip and tilted her head sideways. “Honey, you’re really pale. You want me to get you a drink?”
Her stomach cramped hard at the offer, but she shook her head. “No—I mean yes—but not right now. I used to dress… I knew him.” She waited for the thought to get swept away like every other half-formed memory she managed to glimpse, but it stuck stubbornly and she looked up at Britta, grinning. “I knew him. What he said about knowing me? I knew him too.”
“Yeah, okay. You’ve got the crazies tonight, but we need to know what we’re dancing to.”
“No.” Kiki bounced up. “I mean—yeah, I’ll tell you. But I met someone last night and…”
“You met someone and you’re just now mentioning it?” Rising, hands on her hips, Britta gave her a hard look. “You went out and didn’t invite me?”
Wrapping her in a quick embrace. “Not on purpose and don’t be like that. I just had to get out and I didn’t realize he was calling me, but he was and I went and then he was there and we were together and we up to his room. Oh my God can the man kiss, and three orgasms later I had to get back down here, but I was late and Stan was pissed and I woke
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