'No, I couldn't,' she agreed happily, her words jolting out. His hands gripped her arse cheeks, pulling them apart, opening her wider to the punishing thrusts. She flexed her thighs and knees, pushing herself aggressively into his crotch, egging him on to take it harder and faster and higher.
'You do like it rough, don't you, you little trollop,' muttered Everett. 'Well, you'll get it. Hard and fast and often. Whenever and wherever. Whether you're sore or not. And you will be.'
Rachael's wrists were beginning to numb but she could not have said so, she could not have felt it, because all her blood was down between her legs. She began to keen, began to cry, began to come and Everett crashed into it with her, pushing and pulling her, marking her, taking her. Rachael yanked hard at her bonds and, with a tearing sound, one of the ties ripped in half.
Everett untied the half that was still attached to Rachael's wrist.
'Present from my wife,' he said, checking the label. 'Tested to destruction.' He aimed it at the bin and smiled tenderly down. 'I hope that was good for you.'
'Yeah,' said Rachael, still dazed. 'Good.'
'I can't quite believe my luck,' said Everett, and he untied her other wrist, kissing it back to life.
'So did you see him again?' I asked her. 'After you came back from your trip?'
Rachael smiled inscrutably into her drink.
'Only by accident. At a couple of parties. He said he wouldn't bother me once the contract was up, and he kept his word.'
'You didn't want to take it up with him again?'
'No, it wasn't that. He met somebody else while I was in Europe. They're married now, I think.'
'Oh, right. But he'd given you the taste?'
'God, yes. He'd given me the taste. I went to Europe and suddenly romantic olive-skinned guys in vineyards weren't doing it for me. It was older men in suits all the way. Would you believe, in Paris, instead of sitting at pavement cafés in Montmartre, I took to hanging around the Bourse.'
I laughed. 'Did you pull un stockbrokeur?'
'Nope. Most sexually frustrating year of my life. Surrounded by beautiful boys, but not remotely interested in any of them.' She sighed. 'Life has a sick sense of humour sometimes.'
'I suppose.' I sucked my orange juice through a straw. Chase passed through en route to harangue the Head Barman about something.
'Now he'd make a good dom, I bet,' said Rachael, following him with her eyes.
'No, he wouldn't,' I said hastily. 'He's gay anyway.'
'Gay? Are you sure?' She squinted at him, sizing him up.
'Might as well be,' I muttered. 'So these parties that you bumped into Everett at. Tell me about them.'
She ordered another drink.
Health and Fitness
He's at it again.
The banks of static cycles, treadmills and stepping machines might as well not exist. The non-stop VH1 on the big screen should just switch itself off, for all the attention it's going to get. Weight benches and pull-up bars are just part of the seduction furniture in this gym. For the poor sap undergoing Lincoln's Special Induction, there is nothing but Lincoln and her. I allow myself a nostalgic smile and walk away from the gym window, thinking back to the time I underwent Lincoln's Special Induction. We've all been through it, some of us more than once, and for a time it was a legend of the hospitality industry. It went a little like this.
New girl shows up at gym, asking for an induction session.
New girl is instantly floored by honed masculine perfection of Lincoln.
She turns up for induction in newly purchased most-flattering-possible Lycra outfit.
Forty sweaty minutes later, Lycra lies on the shower-room floor while Lincoln shows New Girl a whole new world of aerobic moves.
That's the bullet-point version, of course. There is more to it than that. There is the way he stands four-square, arms folded, a Mount Everest of man in a tight vest and trackpants watching you emerge from the changing rooms in your suddenly too-revealing leotard and joggers. There is his unexpectedly boyish smile coupled with his predictably velvet voice – sophistication and mischief blended inside the body of a god. Well, who could resist that? Even before he puts his wooing wheels in motion, most women are lost.