Chapter 12
Mia didn’t beat around the bush. As soon as I arrived at the office the next morning, she looked up from her laptop and asked eagerly, ‘How did the naked photoshoot go?’
I calmly placed my handbag on the floor beside my chair. ‘Fine.’
She looked mildly displeased at my casual attitude. ‘Only fine? Mitch is our money-maker. I would’ve thought he’d inspire a little more enthusiasm than that.’
‘Oh, you know us asexuals. We don’t tend to get too excited about naked photoshoots.’
Feeling Mia’s eyes boring into me, I flipped open my laptop and checked my inbox.
‘Very funny, Prim. Now let’s see these photos. I want Mitch’s profile on the website today. We need to get him bookings ASAP.’
I sighed. ‘I’ll upload them to my drive right now.’
‘Great, thanks.’ She returned to whatever she was doing, and I inserted the memory card into my laptop. I hadn’t looked at the photos since the shoot, as I’d been trying to forget about what happened afterwards.
The photos of suited Mitch loaded, and I could sense Mia craning her neck to catch a glimpse. When the first few thumbnails containing bare skin appeared, she jumped up and leaned over my shoulder.
‘Jesus Christ, these are stunning. Even better than I thought they would be.’
‘Well, I did take that erotic photography course,’ I said mildly. ‘I know what I’m doing.’
‘Yes, I’m just surprised.’ She pointed at one. ‘Enlarge that, please.’
I clicked on it, and Mia gripped the back of my chair. She managed to catch a few strands of hair in her fingers, which made me flinch. ‘Fuck, Mitch’s cock is huge. Did you…?’ she breathed.
I nodded, feeling defensive. ‘Yes, well, he wanted it, and you did say it was okay.’
Mia let out a slow breath. ‘Very okay, if that’s the result. Are they all like that?’
Ah shit. I clicked on a few of the later ones to show her. ‘Mostly. There are a few dumb ones at the end when he was letting off steam…’
But Mia didn’t seem concerned.
‘Do you want to choose the best two photos? I’d help, but I’ve got a meeting at ten.’ She walked back to her desk.
‘Oh, I thought you wanted to—’
‘I’m happy with any of these, to be honest, Prim.
You’ve done a great job. God, I’m getting horny just looking at them.
It’s a good thing I’m with Daniel. Otherwise, we’d have a problem.
’ Mia gave a short laugh and rifled through her handbag, I assumed, for her phone, but she extracted a gold bullet vibrator from her bag.
‘Right, I’m off for a quick sesh in the ladies’ with this baby. Otherwise, I’m going to be really distracted at my meeting. Can you send me a photo of naked Mitch? I want to look at it on my phone while I’m diddling myself.’
I fought the urge to laugh. But who was I to talk? I’d deliberately not looked at the photos myself for that very reason.
‘Oh, and when you send the chosen photos to Mitch, tell him Mia approves wholeheartedly. And wished she’d been a fly on the wall.’ She chuckled and headed off to the ladies’.
I gulped. ‘Will do!’
Dammit, I shouldn’t have taken so many photos of Mitch. They were all good, and it was proving difficult to choose the best two. I had to do it, though. Otherwise, I’d be here all day. And scrutinising naked photos of Mitch wasn’t a good idea if I wanted to remain serene and unflustered.
Relieved to have made my choice, I prepared a brief email to Mitch and attached the photos, along with our standard consent form.
While I waited for his reply, I updated the website with his clothed photo and bio. All I had to do was publish the page when he gave the go-ahead.
Half an hour later, I was still waiting.
Unease gripped my stomach as I made a cup of tea for something to do.
Hopefully, everything was okay, and Mitch wasn’t having second thoughts about his naked photo.
It was hot, but it was going to be sent to women before their appointment—women who were complete strangers—so I didn’t blame him if he’d baulked when he saw it.
Finally, my email dinged with his reply, and I swung back into my seat to read it.
Hi Primrose,
Thanks for sending the photos. I’m happy for you to do your thing with them. Consent form attached. What happens now?
Best,
Mitch
Phew, he seemed fine with it, and indeed the form had been dutifully filled in and signed. I exhaled, and the tension in my shoulders eased now that Mitch was totally on board. Quickly, I published the updated web page and typed back:
Hi Mitch,
Thanks for that. Congratulations! You’re officially part of the Suite Noir team now.
Your profile photo and bio are live on the website, and clients can book you.
I’ve attached our Suite Noir employee welcome guide, which should give you all the information you need about working here.
But let me know if you have further questions.
Kind regards
Primrose
I sent the email and sipped my tea as I inspected his profile page to double-check there weren’t any typos.
But my eyes kept straying to the photo alongside.
Mitch the Architect looked sexy yet professional in his suit and tie.
His mischievous, confident grin and the way he was wielding the open pair of dividers suggested he knew what he was doing.
A wave of heat flooded my abdomen as I remembered Mitch growling, ‘Come for me’ at the photoshoot.
I licked my dry lips. Oh yes, he knew exactly what he was doing.
But nothing like that was going to happen again. It was a one-off.
Hastily, I clicked out of the website and completed a few outstanding admin tasks.
My mind wandered to dinner and what I needed to pick up from the supermarket on the way home.
Before I logged off, I checked to see if anyone had booked Mitch yet.
When I saw the appointment schedule, I gasped.
He was booked solid for the next three weeks—and his profile had only been live for half an hour!
Word on the street seemed to be spreading like wildfire that there was a hot new Suite Noir guy.
Even as I watched, another appointment pinged for Mitch.
Fuck, I thought. That’s just the clothed version.
Wait till they see him in the buff; they’ll be feral.
At this rate, Mitch was going to be raking in the cash.
Mia would be over the moon that he was so popular straight off the bat.
And I should be pleased too, that Mitch was keeping me in a job.
It was great that loads of horny women were booking him, I told myself as I went down in the lift.
So why did I feel so depressed about it?
I was still trying to grapple with that when I came out of South Ealing station into a pale mauve twilight. A chill hung in the air as I strolled briskly to the supermarket on the high street. I was in the vegetable section looking for a semi-ripe avocado when my phone buzzed.
Hi Primrose,
I have some further questions after reading the guide, and I can’t be bothered typing them. Can we talk instead? What’s your mobile number?
Best
Mitch
My heart thudded as I stared at the email. My fingers squeezed the avocado I was holding in my other hand tightly, and the flesh gave way. Too ripe. I slowly put it back before anyone noticed, grabbed a random one and added it to my basket.
I swallowed and tried to focus on my shopping list. Chickpeas. I needed a tin of chickpeas before I did something silly like reply automatically out of politeness.
Mitch having my mobile number was a bad idea for a whole host of reasons.
But strangely enough, I couldn’t think specifically what they might be.
I just knew it didn’t bode well. That it crossed the line between business and pleasure.
Which was ironic, as hadn’t that line already been well and truly crossed when he’d made me orgasm with the Magic Wand?
And I was sure that watching him shoot a load of cum also wasn’t particularly businesslike.
Grabbing the rest of the ingredients I needed for my healthy salad, I paid, bagged them in my canvas tote, and headed to my flat.
Before I reached it, and after a suitable amount of time had elapsed, I sent Mitch my number.
It didn’t mean anything, I told myself. Like he said, he couldn’t be bothered typing.
Part of me knew better that it was an excuse, and Mitch wanted something. I just didn’t know what yet.