Read Online The Doxy's Daybook: A Friday in Two Acts by Sable Jordan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sable Jordan
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this, Winston.”
He nods happily. “Thanks. And call me Tony. Winston’s so,”—he pulls a face—“formal.”
“All right, Tony.” I raise my glass. “To a great night?”
Tony smile s, clinks his glass to mine. Thad lowers into a chair, sips his drink, refusing to join in the toast. I know the Dickel’s won me points but he won’t acknowledge it.
Tony’s brown curls are shaking again and it’s clear he’s bothered by his lover’s churlishness. I offer a smile, motion for him to have a seat on the co uch directly across from Thad. I remain standing.
“So, tell me a little about yourselves.” The inquiry is directed toward Tony but intended for his partner. If Tony is the wear-your-heart-on-your-sleeve type, Thad is sleeveless. His comments are likely to be straight to the point and I need direct information.
Thad grunts. “Thought we were here for a quick screw, not a full-on gittin’ tuh know ya.”
“Roz is bein’ nice, Thad,” Tony snaps.
“Well, let‘er be nice someplace else. We don’t need her here.”
The smile never leaves my face.
Tony hops up from his seat with murder in his eyes, jabbing a finger at his mate. “Your insane jealousy is the reason we can’t move forward.”
“Actually, it’s the backwater laws in this here country won’t let us move forward,” Thad mocks, taking another hefty swallow of the whiskey. “That…and yer fence straddlin’.”
Tony lets out a strangled groan. “For the love of—Why do I even try with you?”
I sip my champagne slowly and move toward Thad, Tony straining to keep his anger in check.
“Please, Tony. Have a seat.” My voice is soft, eyes locked with his, arm extended toward the couch. One angry cowboy is plenty, and it’s time for me to intervene.
Tony plops down, the Jouet sloshing from the glass onto his pants. He doesn’t notice.
Standing near Thad, I try a different approach. “If that’s all you want, an impersonal fuck,” I shrug, “you should have called a hooker.”
Thad’s surprised gaze shoots up to mine. “What in hell d’ya think ya are, a saint?”
“A doxy,” I correct, canting innocently on the arm of his chair. “I’m a long-term affair that involves knowing my clients and their preferences. I’m not a casual fuck, Thad. I’m an intimate lover. Not everyone can handle it.”
“A wig don’t make it no less a pig, so yer still a hooker in my book.” He looks me over with disdain. “A hooker who don’t look old enough to be doin’ what she’s doin’.”
“Why, Thaddeus, I do believe that’s a compliment,” I enthuse with a wink at Tony. He smiles weakly and I settle more comfortably on the arm of Thad’s chair. “Now, let’s get a few things clear, shall we? Thad, I’m assuming you’re a top only, right?”
His incoherent grumble sounds like assent.
“And Tony, what is it you like about women so much that you have to have one?”
He pushes his fingers through his curly locks. “After seeing the hard ass I’m with, you can understand I like something soft and supple every now and again.”
I laugh a little, casually slide my arm across Thad’s broad shoulders and lean against him. He doesn’t move, but the tension is tangible. My fingers absently trace a plaid square on his shirt, the other hand bringing the glass of bubbly to my lips.
Thad hops up, the move so abrupt my drink spills down my dress.
“Git off me,” he barks, bucks his head toward a furious Tony who is standing again. “Ya might have him on yer string, but not me. I don’t like this, and I don’t like you!”
“See!” Tony screams, finding a cloth napkin for my dress. “Completely unreasonable! Look what you’ve done.” He dabs at the wet spot, ironically trying to avoid touching me inappropriately. “Roz, I’m so sorry.” His brown eyes are tinged with sadness, and I know his next line before he utters it.
He nods happily. “Thanks. And call me Tony. Winston’s so,”—he pulls a face—“formal.”
“All right, Tony.” I raise my glass. “To a great night?”
Tony smile s, clinks his glass to mine. Thad lowers into a chair, sips his drink, refusing to join in the toast. I know the Dickel’s won me points but he won’t acknowledge it.
Tony’s brown curls are shaking again and it’s clear he’s bothered by his lover’s churlishness. I offer a smile, motion for him to have a seat on the co uch directly across from Thad. I remain standing.
“So, tell me a little about yourselves.” The inquiry is directed toward Tony but intended for his partner. If Tony is the wear-your-heart-on-your-sleeve type, Thad is sleeveless. His comments are likely to be straight to the point and I need direct information.
Thad grunts. “Thought we were here for a quick screw, not a full-on gittin’ tuh know ya.”
“Roz is bein’ nice, Thad,” Tony snaps.
“Well, let‘er be nice someplace else. We don’t need her here.”
The smile never leaves my face.
Tony hops up from his seat with murder in his eyes, jabbing a finger at his mate. “Your insane jealousy is the reason we can’t move forward.”
“Actually, it’s the backwater laws in this here country won’t let us move forward,” Thad mocks, taking another hefty swallow of the whiskey. “That…and yer fence straddlin’.”
Tony lets out a strangled groan. “For the love of—Why do I even try with you?”
I sip my champagne slowly and move toward Thad, Tony straining to keep his anger in check.
“Please, Tony. Have a seat.” My voice is soft, eyes locked with his, arm extended toward the couch. One angry cowboy is plenty, and it’s time for me to intervene.
Tony plops down, the Jouet sloshing from the glass onto his pants. He doesn’t notice.
Standing near Thad, I try a different approach. “If that’s all you want, an impersonal fuck,” I shrug, “you should have called a hooker.”
Thad’s surprised gaze shoots up to mine. “What in hell d’ya think ya are, a saint?”
“A doxy,” I correct, canting innocently on the arm of his chair. “I’m a long-term affair that involves knowing my clients and their preferences. I’m not a casual fuck, Thad. I’m an intimate lover. Not everyone can handle it.”
“A wig don’t make it no less a pig, so yer still a hooker in my book.” He looks me over with disdain. “A hooker who don’t look old enough to be doin’ what she’s doin’.”
“Why, Thaddeus, I do believe that’s a compliment,” I enthuse with a wink at Tony. He smiles weakly and I settle more comfortably on the arm of Thad’s chair. “Now, let’s get a few things clear, shall we? Thad, I’m assuming you’re a top only, right?”
His incoherent grumble sounds like assent.
“And Tony, what is it you like about women so much that you have to have one?”
He pushes his fingers through his curly locks. “After seeing the hard ass I’m with, you can understand I like something soft and supple every now and again.”
I laugh a little, casually slide my arm across Thad’s broad shoulders and lean against him. He doesn’t move, but the tension is tangible. My fingers absently trace a plaid square on his shirt, the other hand bringing the glass of bubbly to my lips.
Thad hops up, the move so abrupt my drink spills down my dress.
“Git off me,” he barks, bucks his head toward a furious Tony who is standing again. “Ya might have him on yer string, but not me. I don’t like this, and I don’t like you!”
“See!” Tony screams, finding a cloth napkin for my dress. “Completely unreasonable! Look what you’ve done.” He dabs at the wet spot, ironically trying to avoid touching me inappropriately. “Roz, I’m so sorry.” His brown eyes are tinged with sadness, and I know his next line before he utters it.
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