04
“Ugh! That bitch.” Amanda sipped from another cocktail while Brandon finished wiping down the stone deck around the hot tub. “Leaving me out here all by myself. Lightweight.”
“I'm sorry, ma'am,” Brandon muttered, crouched on the ground.
For a second, he wondered why the hell he'd even said it.
He could have just kept his mouth shut. But, still lost in thoughts of quitting, the deferential reply had slipped out on autopilot—drilled into him as the way club staff were expected to address the members.
Amanda stared at him as if only now realizing he'd returned.
In fact, for the first time, she was looking at him with genuine interest, as though the pieces were finally clicking into place.
Brandon didn't remember, but she sure did.
He was the same employee she'd seen stepping into Laura's office while Amanda had been chatting with the club manager. Yeah, she remembered him now...
“Well, look at that. She wasn't lying. You're actually pretty cute.” Amanda's irritated scowl shifted into something wicked, her lips curling into a sly smirk. She recalled Laura's comment about the kid after he'd brought in Monica's paperwork.
Laura and Amanda went back to their college days, sharing the exact same taste in a very specific type of man. Amanda had probably just been too caught up entertaining Isabella to recognize Brandon earlier.
Then, the gears visibly clicked in her head as two separate thoughts collided: her chat with Laura, and Isabella's drunken dare about putting Brandon to use. “You really have to do whatever I tell you, don't you?”
Brandon barely caught what she was driving at, still scrubbing down the patio around the tub. “Well... club policy says—”
“Fuck club policy. What're you gonna do? Refuse to wait on the daughter of one of the club's wealthiest members? Who do you think management's gonna back?”
That made him look up. Wait, is she actually talking about...
Amanda was devouring him with her eyes. Not the sloppy, wandering stare of someone who'd had a few too many and ogled everyone in sight.
No. As far as he could tell, she was dead sober.
Nothing like Isabella. Brandon finished wiping down the stone and set the bucket of cleaning supplies off to the side.
How was he even supposed to respond to that?
“That's not what I meant... it's just, even if I wanted to... well, I'm on the clock.” Even if I wanted to? he thought, cringing inwardly. Who the hell talks like that? She could take offense right now and get you fired, dumbass.
She seemed to weigh her options, raking her gaze up and down his frame. Then she gave a firm nod, her mind made up. “I don't care.”
Amanda rose to her feet. Water cascaded down her body, making every curve glisten under the blue lights—highlighting the narrow taper of her waist, the lush curve of her thighs, and her full, perfect breasts.
Brandon was completely transfixed. She pointed a manicured finger straight down at the bubbling water.
“Come on. Hustle up. Strip down and get in here with me.”
“Ma'am?”
“Yes! Keep calling me that. Now you just have to obey.”
Brandon flushed red, caught in complete paralysis.
Sure, as a Sterling Grove employee, his job was to serve the members.
On the other hand, being used like this—stripping down and climbing into a hot tub—was definitely not in the employee handbook.
Strictly forbidden, in fact. Getting involved with members was grounds for immediate termination.
All of that flashed through his mind in a split second.
But the sight of Amanda standing before him, sculpted, soaking wet, ordering him to join her, was far more persuasive.
In truth, there wasn't much to debate. He knew he'd already made up his mind the second he realized what she was asking. It was just a lingering pang of insecurity that kept him rooted in place, forcing himself to try and play it logical.
Then, flashing the same dirty grin she'd worn earlier, Amanda tugged aside one cup of her bikini top, baring her left breast. The garden lighting caught the silver barbell pierced through her nipple, flashing like a brilliant green light to Brandon's racing imagination.
“Get in here already, before I change my mind.”
To hell with club policy, he thought. To hell with this job and the paycheck.
Glancing both ways along the secluded stone path leading to the private alcove, Brandon made sure no one was coming, then stripped down. He was rock-hard before his toes even hit the water.
Amanda sank back onto the submerged bench, her body veiled beneath the churning froth. She let out a wicked little laugh as he stepped into the heat.
“Come here. Do your job. I've got barely an hour before my father wants to leave. You're keeping me entertained until then.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Amanda hauled him in close and crushed her lips to his. Brandon tasted vodka and sweet strawberries, undercut by something else he couldn't quite place. Her fingers wound tight into his hair, a muffled moan escaping her throat as their tongues tangled together.
The heat inside Brandon flared white-hot.
He allowed his hands to settle on Amanda, gripping her waist, still hesitant about how far he could push.
Just how much control did she intend to keep?
How bold was he allowed to be with her? How much initiative should he take, and how much should he just let her run the show? Maybe he was overthinking it.
This was a fantasy coming to life. In that moment, he shoved every lingering worry about his job, his shattered self-esteem, and real-world bullshit to the back of his mind.
He forced himself to live completely in the present.
He forgot about the everyday Brandon. If this was a fantasy, he could play the part—exude confidence, if only for tonight, all to obey and serve Amanda.
“Come on... I know you've got more than that,” she murmured against his mouth, guiding his hand upward to cup her breast. Another green light.
Brandon pushed the fabric aside, exposing both of her full breasts.
Taking the initiative at her command, he hoisted her up and pulled her directly into his lap.
A startled little gasp caught in her throat before melting into a purr of pure satisfaction.
There they were—both nipple piercings glistening beneath the garden's blue wash.
Brandon leaned down and took one between his lips, the cool taste of metal blending with the sweet, heated skin of Amanda's breast.
She groaned, rolling her hips against him while keeping a firm hand anchored in his hair, her fingers tangled in his wet strands, guiding his mouth.
“Finally, a dedicated employee.”
His other hand slipped beneath the side strap of her bikini bottom, sliding between her thighs. He found what he was looking for, pulling a sharp, ragged gasp from her lips. His fingers began to stroke and tease, sending a shiver through her body as she whimpered softly against his ear.
“Good boy...”
Just the whisper alone would have been enough to unravel Brandon's sanity, but that simple praise was a spark thrown into a powder keg of pure lust. He would have stayed right there at her beck and call forever, sucking her nipples and working his fingers to drive Amanda wild for as long as she demanded.
But Brandon didn't have much time to keep teasing her. Amanda slipped a hand between their slick bodies and wrapped her fingers around his cock, stroking him with firm intent.
A grin tugged at his lips, remembering her words from earlier. It’d be fun to play with a guy like him after so long... Amanda's voice echoed in his memory.
She guided his hard length against her entrance, letting him rub against her soaking heat.
She was scorching, practically pulling him in.
Brandon took it as an invitation to slide inside, shifting his hips to bury himself deep.
But Amanda tightened her grip around his shaft, stopping him dead in his tracks.
“Not so fast, eager boy.”
She locked her arms around Brandon's head, smothering his face against her breasts as her hips rolled into a relentless grind.
Her fingers remained wrapped firmly around his cock—a frustrating barrier denying his desperate urge to plunge inside.
But beneath the frustration ran pure ecstasy.
His mouth drank in the scent and taste of Amanda's skin.
For a moment he stayed buried there, nearly breathless, drowning in the woman's heat.
“Oh... God... it's been... sooo long...” The rest of her words dissolved into raw whimpers of pleasure as she dragged his cock forward, grinding it right against her clit while still refusing to let him inside.
Brandon gripped her hips, anchoring her and matching her rhythm. Hot water sloshed in small waves between their pressed bodies each time Amanda rolled up and down, splashing against his face. He didn't even notice.
His mouth sought out one of her nipples again, his tongue teasing the piercing, and that seemed to be the final push Amanda needed to tumble over the edge.
Loud moans broke from her throat as her climax built to a fever pitch. The sudden volume sent Brandon's heart hammering against his ribs, reigniting the terror of getting caught.
He reached up and pressed his palm against her lips to muffle her. She leaned right into it with another idea altogether, taking his fingers into her mouth and sucking greedily. It worked even better to swallow her breathless cries.
A jolt of panic shot through his mind as he realized the friction against Amanda's wet heat was dragging him straight toward his own climax as well.
“I'm... I'm close...” he gasped against her skin.
“Don't you dare! I forbid you to come.” Her commanding tone left no room for doubt. He obeyed instantly. Somehow, the sheer denial was intoxicating. He'd had no clue that being denied an orgasm could make him burn this hot.
Brandon tried to pull back from her grip. It was easy for her to order him not to come while continuing to use him like a human vibrator. Amanda held him pinned against her for another agonizing beat, dangerously teasing the point of no return.
She laughed—a breathless, satisfied sound dripping with decadent pleasure. Then she let him go. Brandon's cock throbbed violently; he felt like the slightest brush would make him lose control and blow.
“You holding up okay over there?” she asked.
“I just... need a... second.”
“Now come on, handsome. Round two.”
Amanda braced her hands against the edge of the hot tub and arched her hips high, rolling her ass temptingly toward Brandon.
“Use your mouth this time.”
It was a downright sinful sight: the wet curves of Amanda's ass glistening beneath the streams of water, the bikini bottom hitched to the side to bare the flushed pink heat Brandon had been craving.
He was already rising, parting his lips to taste her, when the distinct crunch of footsteps echoed down the stone path leading toward the tub.
“Come on, Amanda... I've had enough for tonight.”
Amanda's eyes widened in sudden terror. She whipped her head from side to side, desperate for a way out.
“He'll kill you... he'll kill me!”
“What should I—”
“My father… he’ll kill you.”
She hissed the words, frantic, bordering on hysterical.
“Coming!” Amanda called out, projecting her voice down the path. In a flash, she snatched Brandon's clothes off the edge of the tub, balled them up, and flung them clear over the hedges into the garden lawn to hide them.
“Hey...” he hissed in protest.
“You were amazing, handsome. But that's all for tonight. Now take a deep breath and count to a hundred or something.”
Before Brandon could get a word out, her hands shoved his shoulders, forcing him straight under.
He barely had time to suck in a breath before submerging.
Opening his eyes beneath the surface, he watched Amanda's legs slip out of the tub.
He strained to hear, but the voices outside were muffled into white noise by the churning jets.
He caught the father's looming silhouette appearing on the stone path just as Amanda intercepted him.
She scooped her things off the patio table and immediately began steering the man away.
Brandon held his breath for another long stretch, counting the seconds. When his lungs burned, screaming for oxygen, he eased his head above the waterline, trying to make as little noise as possible.
The last thing he saw was Amanda walking away, her skimpy bikini doing next to nothing to cover the swaying curve of her ass...
Nearly getting caught only made the sight that much sweeter.
He stayed submerged for another few minutes before finally climbing out and retrieving his clothes from the grass. He dried himself off as best he could before getting dressed. After all, he still had half a shift left on the clock, and the fantasy had officially drawn to a close.
Well, back to reality, he thought with a grin.
It was just a simple acceptance of the facts.
The kind of wild luck that only happened once in a lifetime; he'd probably never experience anything like that again—even if he hadn't managed to come himself.
But Brandon didn't mind. It had happened.
He'd hit the jackpot, and he was walking away satisfied.
Nobody who won the lottery whined about not hitting it twice.
Best of all, he still had his job, which was more than enough.
He rounded up the empty cocktail glasses and used club towels, heading back down the stone path toward the spa with a genuine smile on his face.
All things considered, working the night shift wasn't half bad.