‘Ohhh, no,’ I whispered, but whether I was begging him to stop or carry on was no longer clear to me.
‘Don’t you think it’s obvious to them?’ he pressed on. ‘Your blushes, my expression. They’re all talking about us, the way we talked about that other couple. They’re all saying, “Any minute now, he’s going to take her upstairs and tie her to the bedposts and give her a good, hard seeing-to.” And someone else’ll say, “Oh, but surely he’ll spank her first. Spank her soundly on her bare little bottom until it’s bright red.” And they’d both be right, of course.’
‘Oh, God, I hate you.’ My teeth were clenched, and so was everything else.
He laughed. ‘Another six for that. And six more for lying. You don’t hate me, Foxy.’
‘Yes, I bloody well do.’
‘Six more,’ he sighed. ‘I think we’d better get started soon, or I’m going to need a calculator.’
‘You’re not joking, are you?’ I’d been waiting for the twinkle, or the wink. Neither had shown up.
He shook his head, lips tight together.
‘You know, I think I might book a room here.’
‘Can you afford it?’
‘No. But I can bung it on the credit card.’
‘You’ll be paying it off till Doomsday.’
‘Well, Doomsday might be tomorrow, for all we know. Go on. I’ll cane the plastic and then I’ll cane you. Well, not cane, because I haven’t got one, but…’
Ah, there was the wink.
I was all out of objections. In theory, there were many: it was too expensive, I ought to get back to the flat since Mehra was cooking for us all, this hotel could be riddled with Maria’s spies and/or friends, I should take it easy with Tom anyway…
In practice, they melted away behind the heat haze of my lust for Tom.
‘You’re awful,’ I said, but I was seduced, and he knew it.
‘And you need to learn when to hold that tongue of yours,’ he said. ‘I’m going to teach you. Come on, drink up.’ He drained the last of his cocktail and fished out his wallet. ‘Might as well get our money’s worth, if we’re going to do this.’
‘Hang on.’ I texted Mehra an apology, making up some old nonsense about bumping into friends in town, and finished the last delicious mouthful of my drink.
‘Don’t make me wait,’ warned Tom.
I slid off my barstool as if lubricated, which I pretty much was. What was it about this man? Why did I find him so irresistible? It was maddening, but it was too strong to fight. All I could do was bob along like a cork in the tide.
At Reception, a woman with a bun so tight her face seemed stretched sat starchily behind the old oak desk. What if she was a friend of Maria’s? A colleague?
I loitered by a bookcase, keeping my face turned away from her, as Tom went through the booking process. My stomach fluttered. This was not a situation a sensible, well-behaved girl would find herself in. I felt like a whore, being paid for and taken to a hotel room by her client. It turned me on, even when I wondered if the receptionist would see it that way.
‘Come on then, Foxstress,’ said Tom breezily, turning from the desk and waving a key card at me. ‘Up those stairs.’ He slid a hand under my flippy skirt as we began to ascend the grand old staircase. If the receptionist hadn’t had an inkling before, she certainly would now. I tried to wriggle away from him, but he was having none of it, curling his hand around my hip to keep me tight by his side.
‘Make it obvious, why don’t you?’ I hissed.
‘Why not? Why lie?’ he replied blithely. ‘I’m afraid we’re on the top floor – only room they had left.’
‘Couldn’t we have taken the lift?’
‘No. I want to use the stairs.’
‘Why?’
‘To make you even madder. You’re so cute when you’re all embarrassed and mad.’ He rubbed my bottom through the sexy silky underwear. I had a horrible feeling that this had made my skirt rise high enough to flash my stocking tops and suspenders to the entire population of the lobby. ‘Anyway, you little devil, don’t pretend you weren’t planning this. You’ve got those sexy stockings on. You know how wild they drive me.’