Chapter 17
I flew around the flat like a bumblebee on steroids, but when the buzzer went, I felt strangely calm and arranged my face in a pleasant, welcoming expression. Opening the door, I looked up at Mitch’s handsome face and tried not to melt under his gaze. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi yourself.’ His blue eyes tracked over me in a heated way, and my stomach started to quiver.
Oh no, I was losing it already! But I pushed aside my impulse to slam the door.
Mitch needed me to be professional. This was a support visit.
I simply had to switch into counsellor mode (another one of the hats I wore at Suite Noir).
‘Come in.’ I held the door open and breathed in tangerine and musk from his shower as he brushed past me.
He was wearing a black hoodie and faded blue jeans.
I’d never seen him in casual gear before, but he looked good in it, especially with his dark-blond hair all damp and tousled.
He was carrying a Nike gym bag, so I assumed he was heading there next.
A relaxing swim and sauna after a horizontal workout…
‘Nice place,’ said Mitch, dropping his bag next to the couch and surveying the lounge with its L-shaped couch, glass coffee table and my collection of leafy potted plants in the corner by the window.
I shrugged, keeping well away from him. ‘It’s small, but it’s home. Do you want a drink?’
‘Sure,’ he said, following me to the kitchen before I could tell him to stay put.
I opened the fridge, studiously ignoring the wine in the door, and said, ‘I have raw pressed fruit juice, or there’s tea or coffee?’
‘A cup of tea is fine,’ he said, inspecting my fridge magnets when I shut the door.
I took down two mugs, put in tea bags and boiled the kettle again, since it was lukewarm from my earlier attempt at making black coffee.
Drinking that now would make me too jittery, and my hands were already shaking with nerves.
Mitch’s large presence seemed to fill the small space, and I felt shy and awkward having him in my home.
Looking at my fridge magnets wasn’t the same as going through my underwear drawer, but it still felt too intimate.
‘You didn’t have to clean on my account,’ he said, nodding at the ice cream container of sprays, cloths, and other implements, resting on the bench.
I smiled tightly and hastily shoved it back under the sink. ‘I normally do a whip-round after work.’
He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Every night?’
The kettle finished boiling, and I poured the hot water into the mugs. ‘Not every night. Just… when I’m… feeling…’ I trailed off. ‘Anyway,’ I continued brightly, feeling like I was digging myself a hole. ‘Milk? Sugar?’
He said yes to the former.
‘Let’s go through to the lounge, and you can offload.’
‘Offload?’ Mitch enquired, taking the mug I passed him. His fingers brushed mine, and a tremor passed through me, but I managed not to let it show.
‘Yes, about your appointment,’ I said in the same overly bright tone. ‘That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You need HR support.’
‘HR support…’ Mitch echoed. ‘Right.’
He followed me through to the lounge, and I gestured for him to take a seat on the couch.
I wondered if I should get my pad and pen to take notes, but figured I’d remember the gist of it and jot down some bullet points after he’d gone.
Mia would appreciate a written report of our conversation, no doubt.
I sat next to Mitch on the sofa and took a sip of tea. Then I placed my mug on a coaster on the coffee table and pushed another one towards him. His lips twitched. Again, I felt like he was jotting down his own mental notes about me.
Crossing my legs at the ankles, I folded my hands in my lap.
I’d changed back into my work clothes, so I looked more businesslike.
My hair was in its usual tight bun, and I was wearing my tortoiseshell glasses.
It was probably a little formal, but I felt more able to deal with this situation if I looked composed, on the outside at least. ‘So, before we begin, I want to reassure you that anything you say will be treated in the strictest confidence—’
Mitch relaxed back against the couch with his tea, and I noted he winced a little. He stretched his long legs under the coffee table. ‘That’s good, because I really only want you to hear this,’ he said.
I’d been about to add, ‘Though it will go in the report I’ll be giving to Mia,’ but I decided to keep quiet about that. Maybe I could do damage control, and she didn’t need to know.
‘So do you want the long or short version of events?’ asked Mitch after sipping his tea. He rubbed his other hand distractedly on the knee of his jeans, and I couldn’t help staring at his fingers… Sexy fingers that had given me a lot of pleasure…
I gulped and averted my eyes. ‘The long version,’ I replied stoically, deciding to test myself to the limit. If I could bear hearing all the nitty-gritty details about Mitch and Shoshana’s appointment, I could deal with anything life threw at me here on in.
Mitch took a deep breath. ‘So I’d prepared for the appointment, and I was, you know…
when I went in.’ He gestured at his crotch.
I knew what he meant. The guys were encouraged to watch porn—it sped up the process if there were a lot of items on a client’s list. That had all been outlined in the welcome PDF I’d sent him.
But I didn’t ask what he’d been watching, and he didn’t volunteer it.
‘Yep, I know,’ I said encouragingly.
‘Thanks to our practice session, I knew what to expect when I entered the dark room. Though it was a little disconcerting having a complete stranger in there and not you…’
‘Yes, I can imagine,’ I said, feeling for him. ‘Go on.’
‘So, I introduced myself, and she replied, and we had a bit of back and forth while I was making my way to the bed.’
I frowned. ‘Like banter?’ Somehow I hadn’t imagined Shoshana being witty.
He shook his head. ‘Not really. Just small talk. She sounded nice enough. Quite posh.’
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Yes, and probably rolling in trust funds…
‘Once I reached the bed, I got on…’
‘You didn’t grab her foot, I hope?’
Mitch grinned at me. ‘No, I learned my lesson with Portia. Scaring the client isn’t sexy.’
I giggled a little at that. ‘Portia is a bit highly strung. So what happened next?’ I asked, steeling myself. Whatever went on, I can take it.
‘Well, here’s where it gets a bit weird. As soon as I touched her arm and she knew where I was, she kind of launched herself at me.’ Mitch gave a short, humourless laugh.
My eyebrows raised. Okay…
‘There was no build-up,’ he continued, looking straight ahead and avoiding my eyes. ‘She located my cock and started sucking me off. I was a bit surprised and suggested we start with her, but she stopped what she was doing and told me she was the one who was running the show, not me.’
My eyebrows raised further. ‘She sounds dominant…’
‘Yes, scarily dominant!’ Mitch’s head bobbed. ‘And really good at giving head. I came pretty quickly, I have to say. Though I was doing my best to hold off. She swallowed, so it didn’t go all over the bedcover. In case you’re wondering.’
I rubbed the corner of my eye as it gave a massive twitch. I had a clear image of Mitch lying on the bed moaning as he came in her mouth.
‘I wasn’t,’ I said, trying not to sound grumpy. Trust Shoshana to have excellent blowjob skills. ‘What happened next?’
‘She wanted me to smack her arse,’ Mitch said grimly, and I couldn’t help chuckling a little at his tone.
‘So that went okay, I take it?’
‘Have you ever tried to smack someone’s arse in the dark, Primrose?’
‘Ah, can’t say I have. Did you miss?’
‘Let’s just say she wasn’t best pleased with my attempts.’
I stifled a laugh, and it came out as a gurgle.
‘Lyle apparently was an expert at smacking her, and Lyle had really turned her on. I suggested I return the favour with my tongue, but she didn’t seem interested in that.’
‘Strange, oral was on her list,’ I said before I could help it. ‘Maybe that was for you, not her. I might tweak the checklist wording to specify who receives and who delivers.’
Mitch glanced at me. ‘Oh, so you know what she ordered?’
‘Ah, I was curious. Since it was your first appointment. I was a tad wary since she’s one of Lyle’s regulars. He services clients who like it rougher.’
‘Hmm. A forewarning would have been nice.’ Mitch sat forward to pick up his mug of tea, and he did that wince thing again, which concerned me.
‘She … she didn’t hurt you, did she?’
He sipped his tea and then said, ‘A little. I bear the marks of her disdain on my back.’
‘What?’ I said, not liking the sound of that.
Mitch replaced his tea on the coaster. ‘It’s probably better if I show you.’ He swivelled around so his back was to me. He eased off his black hoodie, and underneath, he was wearing a white t-shirt which had a few red blotches on it. I inhaled sharply. ‘You’re bleeding.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ Mitch replied evenly. ‘She was scraping her fingernails over me when we were doing it, and it hurt like the blazes. Can you check what it looks like? It stung a lot in the shower afterwards, but I couldn’t see anything as the mirror was steamy.’
Gingerly, I lifted up his t-shirt, and my stomach tensed when I saw long welts stretching across his smooth golden back. That utter uncaring cow had raked her talons over him in the throes of pleasure. Some were ragged scrapes, but a few in the middle were deeper and oozing blood.
‘Must’ve been good sex,’ I said shakily. ‘It looks like you’ve been ravaged by a harpy.’
Mitch snorted and then winced in pain as I carefully replaced his t-shirt. A fresh bloodstain bloomed, and a strong urge to cry welled up in me, along with a healthy dose of anger. That fucking bitch! How dare she hurt him!
‘Come with me,’ I said tersely and stood up before he could see my face, as I knew tears were glistening in my eyes. I marched off to the bathroom, struggling to contain my emotions, and Mitch trailed me silently.
When we got there, I dragged out the chair from next to the bath. ‘Take off your t-shirt and sit facing backwards,’ I ordered.
I knew I sounded like a cold cow, but it was either that or a collapse in a weeping mess in front of him.
Mercifully, Mitch didn’t say a word and complied, while I found the first-aid kit in the cabinet under the sink.
It was fully stocked with everything I needed to tend to his wounds and send him on his way.
Not only was I HR support and a counsellor, but I was now also a nurse!
‘Thanks for this,’ Mitch said as I carefully wiped off the blood with a cotton pad soaked in saline solution. ‘I had a feeling it was bad, and I didn’t know what else to do.’
‘You did the right thing,’ I said, grabbing the antiseptic spray. ‘This might hurt a little.’
I began spraying the wounds, and Mitch’s broad shoulders tensed. ‘Ow,’ he said.
‘Sorry.’ I caressed the back of his neck as I sprayed, and he rested his forehead on his hands on the top of the chair.
‘That makes up for the pain,’ he muttered.
‘Yeah?’
He nodded, and as I waited for the antiseptic to dry, I stroked the sides of his warm neck with both hands, and raked my fingers softly through his hair, gently kneading the back of his head with my thumbs. Mitch let out a sigh. ‘That feels nice.’
I could have kept going as I liked Mitch’s little ‘hmms’ as I touched him, but we couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever.
‘I’ll put some plasters on now,’ I murmured, reluctantly removing my hands. It felt as if the shape of his skull was impressed upon my palms. Carefully, I applied butterfly strips over the worst of the wounds, which had thankfully stopped bleeding. And then flesh-coloured plasters over the others.
When I’d finished, I surveyed my work and pronounced that he would live. I took a photo as Mitch wanted to see.
‘Jesus, I look like I’ve had a run-in with a bear,’ he said, sounding a bit shocked, and I giggled.
‘Or a cougar with sharp nails,’ I quipped.
‘Touché,’ said Mitch, handing my phone back. ‘Though is she a cougar if she’s only five years older?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘She’s a mature woman who should know better…’ My voice wobbled, and Mitch grabbed my hand. I sat down heavily on the side of the bath, my legs no longer able to hold me up.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked gently.
My eyes welled with tears before I could help it, and my face heated, hating him seeing my weakness.
‘Don’t cry, I’m alright,’ he said, squeezing my hand, but that made it worse and, to my horror, I let out a sob.
‘I-I’m not upset,’ I said, hastily swiping at my eyes with my other hand. ‘I’m fucked off that she did this to you. I’ll talk to Mia tomorrow and get her bony arse banned. I don’t care if she’s a well-paying client.’
‘Her arse wasn’t bony,’ said Mitch deadpan. ‘When I did manage to smack it, it was rather wobbly.’
I let out a watery cackle.
He straightened up slightly, and I noticed his face was a bit pale. ‘Is your back hurting?’
‘Yeah, a little.’
I hopped off the bath, eager to help him again, and rummaged in the first aid kit for painkillers. Filling a glass with water, I popped out a couple of Nurofen.
‘Here. They’ll take the edge off.’
Mitch swallowed them dutifully.
‘I don’t think you should go to the gym if that’s where you were headed. You need to rest and heal. And absolutely no Suite Noir sex for the next week. I’ll contact all your clients and move your appointments forward.’
Mitch frowned. ‘There goes my first week’s pay down the drain.’
I shook my head. ‘No, I’ll pay you sick leave.’
He brightened a little. ‘Great.’
‘Do you have anyone to look after you? Your dressings will need to be changed.’
He shook his head. ‘I live alone. I guess I could ask my mum to come and stay, but it would be an imposition. She and my dad live in Dorset. They came up for a short visit, but they’ve gone back now. And how would I explain the scratches…?’
My heart settled on the solution before my mind could say otherwise. ‘Then I think you should stay here and let me look after you.’
Mitch frowned. ‘I don’t want to be a burden—’
But I cut him off. ‘No arguments. You’ll be getting soup and lots of bed rest. You can sleep in mine.’
He quirked an eyebrow. ‘I thought you said no sex…’
‘I’ll be on the pull-out couch in the lounge,’ I confirmed.
‘Ah.’ He nodded slowly. ‘Alright, Nurse Portia. If you insist.’
Yikes, I thought, watching as Mitch levered himself from the chair with a small groan: what the fuck have I let myself in for?