Set during Chapter 5 of Playing the Game, in the week between Alice’s first and second contract nights, “Job Security” finds Jay considering his obligations to Henry and Alice and coming to the right conclusions, with a bit of guidance.
“Caesar salad.” Jay snapped his laminated menu shut and stuffed it into the wire holder. “And a lobster roll.”
Alice nudged her lemon slice into her water. She used her straw like an augur, parting the ice and shoving the lemon underneath. “You sure you wanna do that?”
Henry’d asked him the same thing a half-dozen times in the last three weeks. “Are you certain, my boy? Tell me your reasons.” Two weeks of begging before the brown accordion contract folder made an appearance.
“What, eat lobster?” Jay flashed her a flirty smile. They made a mismatched pair, him in his sweaty riding gear and her in her fancy blouse and dry-clean pants, but she smiled back all the same.
“Salad, goof.” She knocked his foot under the table, her sensible girl shoes no match for his sturdy sneaks. “Is lettuce enough to keep you pedaling if you have to climb Summit Avenue this afternoon?”
“Brookline hasn’t got a hill I can’t climb.” Dogged persistence and strong calves carried him through the wobbles, same way Henry’s finesse carried him to the finish line at the right moment for Alice.
“Braggart.” She thrust her tongue out, pink and pointed.
His cock quivered. Three days till he’d get to please her again. Get her to make those hot fucking moans she tried so hard to hold back. Give Henry enough time, and he’d teach her to relax and open up.
“Not bragging when it’s true.” He puffed out his chest and pulled a Tarzan with his fists. “The streets are my jungle.”
She shook her head, but slow, her mouth curved in a sloppy smile and her hazel gaze sweeping down his chest.
Fuck yeah. Alice had a pass to look anytime she liked. On his morning document run, he’d turned down the receptionist staring at the bulge in his bike shorts. No dates, no vanilla one-nighters. He’d committed. Sorry, ladies, I’m taken. Easier than I’m exclusively fucking my neighbor ’cause my boyfriend’s in love with her.
“You gonna double-dog dare me to put Summit on my route home?” He leaned in and tapped the side of her glass. “Be waiting at the top with a water bottle and a towel for almighty Jay, king of the mountain?”
Bubbles zipped through her straw. Laughing, she pulled away. “Water, towel—anything else I can get for you, Master Jay?”
“Henry’s the master.” Shit. Say anything the fuck else. “You massacred that lemon. You ever operate a straw before?”
She needled him about his own eating habits but let the master mention drop. Close call. Lucky, too. He’d skated the fringe of rules for lunches with Alice. Sex talk on contract nights only, and emotions-about-sex talk not until Henry gave the all-clear.
Dropping off Jay’s salad and Alice’s chowder, their server threw smiles and sized up Alice’s tits. Waiter boy had better be sniffing for a bigger tip and nothing more, ’cause the next guy to touch anything under her shirt sat across from her, and even he’d need permission first anyhow.
“We will make you an instrument for her satisfaction.”
Henry promised him heaven, nights spent in obedient service.
No decisions to make and no questions to ask. Two treasured friends and lovers to worship as an extension of his master’s body. He’d be the tool in Henry’s hand as they unfurled the edges of the map of Alice. Traced her hills and curves and finicky switchbacks with tongue and fingers and cock.
“Your every sound, every breath, every thought on these nights will be for her pleasure.”
She ate with oblivious enjoyment. The way she wrapped her lips around her spoon, every day felt like Alice Appreciation Day in his shorts. If a cock leapt toward her but a table blocked her view, did it happen at all?
He should’ve pushed harder for the three-climaxes-a-day clause.
Henry’d tucked that one away under contingencies and promised he’d reevaluate upon Alice’s successful relationship integration.
“When the color balance is right. Mix too quickly and we’ll miss the proper hue.”
Whatever that meant. Guess mixing colors took more precision than skipping past an address. No easy circling back. Hell, he’d circle Alice a hundred times if that’s what it took. A thousand.
“You’re eating that salad awfully slow, smart guy. Rethinking the rabbit food?”
“Needs more carrots.” He scrunched up his nose and twitched. “What sound does a rabbit make?”
He tried an assortment of noises and got her giggling with an imitation of the goats his folks’ neighbors raised. Her cheeks fucking glowed when she laughed, and her mouth made a little heart shape, and every drop of her attention fixed on him.
Henry’d tied them together in ways Alice wouldn’t understand yet. Exciting new rules clamping down on him like a cock ring right before he unloaded, the hot grip of Henry’s possession an unbearable joy.
No more vanilla nights with women who expected him to be mature and commanding and ambitious. He didn’t have to force a happy-face-ready-with-a-quip-boy persona to cover nervous energy around Alice. Pleasing and teasing her came natural as breathing. Relaxed him till he wanted to lie on the floor while she straddled his face, and tensed him till his cock ached and his balls hung tight with the need to show her proof of his devotion.
She raised her spoon. “Here, you should try—”
Wham.
The waiter’s backside slammed into Alice’s elbow. Her spoon went fucking Cirque du Soleil, flying past the aisle, skipping off the neighboring table, and skittering under the booth on the far side.
“Crap, I’m sorry.” The waiter shuffled around as a stream of customers passed him.
Jay snatched his unused spoon and held it tall above the salt and pepper shakers in their metal cage. He owed her his submission. The Knight of the Spoon, at her service.
Intrusive waiter boy who’d never deserve to serve Alice apologized again. “I’ll bring you a clean one fresh from the dishwasher. Toasty warm to match your soup.”
“No, we’re good.” She wrapped her hand around Jay’s on the spoon handle, her fingers so much more delicate than Henry’s but strong all the same. “I’ve got everything I need.”
His breath whooshed out like a sheet of scree under a tire.
She hadn’t been looking his way. Accepting his service wasn’t some big moment for her. She didn’t know she’d done anything. But she had. She had. Her needs were Henry’s to fill, and when Henry directed, they were his. She wouldn’t need to look anywhere else. Not for spoons. Not for orgasms. Not for love.
She’d get there. Gradually, Henry said. Exactly why Jay had gotten permission for more bathroom pit stops on Tuesdays. Confessing last week’s impromptu masturbation session had earned him a reenactment that night at home.
“You took care of your needs and ensured your ability to remain calm and present in the moment with our girl. I’m proud of your quick thinking, dear boy. Alice deserves your full attention, not only these delightful inches of it.”
Still. He’d be damn glad to give her those inches on Friday.