'Yeah. He's new in the team and I'm his mentor. There weren't enough singles to go round . . . so I said we could share . . .'
'Share,' echoed Maddie stupidly. 'You like to share.'
'Are you OK?' asked Phil. 'You seem a bit put out. There's no funny business going on, if that's what you think. We can still go to your room . . . it'll just be a bit friendlier than we might have expected.'
He smiled at Maddie and tried to take her hand, but she moved it swiftly down to her drink.
'Than you might have expected,' she said pointedly.
'Sorry, am I presuming too much? I'll leave you to it then . . .'
'No, look, don't go. I'm sorry. I'm just a little bit disappointed, I suppose.'
'No need to be.' And now Phil's attractive friend was at the table, saying something about the minibar in the bedroom.
'Yeah, you can't deny, this is a classy place. Damian Landers, this is Maddie Crooke from the Capital office.'
'Pleased to meet you,' said Damian formally, shaking her hand.
'Likewise. Have you ever thought of modelling?' The words were out before Maddie could process the thought; everything about Damian screamed 'Photograph me!' to her.
He laughed abruptly, startled at her opening salvo.
'Er . . . no, not really,' he said, looking over to Phil for support.
'Maddie's a photographer,' he confirmed. 'She notices people. She must think you've got what it takes. Hey, Damo, this time next year you could be in one of those aftershave ads, strutting about in a pair of Y-fronts.'
They laughed, and Maddie joined in, but somehow the air felt dry, crackling static around them. There was a tension and an expectation now.
Phil wanted Maddie; Maddie wanted Phil; Maddie found Damian attractive; Damian knew it. Was this complex or was it simple? Could it be acted on, or should it remain unacknowledged?
They finished their drinks and left the bar separately, Damian for the twin room, Phil and Maddie for her humble single crib.
Scarcely ten minutes had passed before Maddie found herself straddling Phil's lean pubis, grinding her needful pussy over and on to his vertical shaft, while he gripped her hips, keeping her upright. Maddie's wrists were tied behind her back with his silk scarf, so his steadying hands were welcome, rocking her forwards and backwards, rotating and posing her while she tried to lean down, desperate to align her G-spot with his questing cock.
'That's good; bring those tits down to me,' growled Phil. Maddie's balance wavered and she plunged down, her breasts pressing into her lover's clavicle, their mouths meeting passionately. His hands moved blindly behind her, pushing her bottom hard into his mashing length as he slammed his pelvis up to meet her. They twitched and jerked like that, lips and teeth clashing in mimicry of their conjoined sexes, until Maddie began to spasm, her moans pouring into Phil's receptive throat while her legs weakened and her body collapsed on to his. He gave one last almighty piercing thrust and joined her in her moment of ecstasy, his back arched until she almost slid off him.
'Wow,' she said sleepily, tumbling down on to her side while Phil untied the silken knot. 'It was interesting, not being able to use my hands. I had to trust you.'
Phil gave a low chuckle. 'Everyone trusts me. That's how I sell so much.'
Maddie sat up, disarrayed. 'Do you often use your sales techniques? To get women into bed?'
Phil looked shiftily over at the minibar. 'Do they really have Japanese beers in there?'
'No dodging the question!' Maddie laughed. 'I'm not after your hand in marriage, Phil. You don't have to bullshit me.'
Phil flicked the puppydog eyes up to full-beam. 'Maybe sometimes,' he confessed.
'Do you and . . . whatshisname . . . Damian . . . ever go out on the pull together?' asked Maddie, trying to sound casual.
'It's been known.'
'Wow. That's a dynamite combination. The dark brooder and the charmer – singly they are devastating; together, an unstoppable force.' Maddie mimicked the voiceover for a cinema trailer. Phil flipped his tie at her nose playfully.
'You fancy him, don't you?'
'Why not? He's stunning. I could really do things to him – photographically, I mean.'