Ginger Fox Part 2

“Stay,” Baby’s voice isn’t cheerful; it has a dry, hoarse tone.
“I think I better go in; I’ve been out here too long. Even though you invited me, I’m still Mrs. Lorane’s employee,” I say, feeling her fingers grip my shoulder, making me lie back down.
“She’s my guest, and not Lorane’s employee. Jonathan is her boss, and he’s the one who told me to bring you to the pool,” she says, softening her face with a small smile.
But even with Baby’s gentle voice, I can’t shake the confusion knowing it was Mr. Roy who manipulated my morning. His need for control is making me uneasy once again.
“Another reason for me to go in, Baby. I think I understand why the woman in the mansion is upset. Lorane is jealous. She’s already been mad at me for going out with Jon, and now her husband is paying attention to me. That would make any woman angry, even if their marriage is strange.”
“I don’t think so. Bob probably didn’t give that bitch what she wanted, or she didn’t take her sedatives today.” She ties the sarong around her waist and adjusts her hair. “I’ll get us some drinks. Don’t you dare move from there.” Baby moves quickly, not giving me a chance to say anything.
I watch Baby cross the garden, walking along the stone path into the mansion. From where I am, I can see Mrs. Lorane approaching a nervous Baby. The two are arguing; Baby grabs her by the arm near the elbow, pulling her away from the window. I’m confused, not knowing what could have made Mrs. Lorane so enraged. This is a complicated family, like an onion with layers; each layer I peel reveals another full of secrets. Not knowing what else to do, I do as Baby asked and stay stretched out on the lounge chair, soaking up the wonderful sun on my skin. I grab my phone and earphones from the ground, unwinding the thin cord and connecting it to the phone. I adjust the plugs in my ears, selecting a random song from the playlist. “Feeling Good” by Nina Simone enters my ears with its smooth beat, bringing a smile of contentment to my face, as I feel very good, more than I have in a long time. My eyes wander to my wrists as I move my hands under my chin. I look at the leather belt mark on my skin. It doesn’t make me feel ashamed, but rather pleased, knowing it’s imprinted on my body, just like the bite mark on my leg. My joints are loose, increasing the sensitivity of my muscles. At the slightest breath, some part of my body goes on alert, and only one thing comes to mind: the force of the hard, deep thrusts that pressed his pelvis against the softness of my ass, until I felt his balls sticking to me, his cock buried in my body. The vulgar shiver that runs down my spine makes me smile with embarrassment at being so promiscuous with the deviant memories of the unknown man, the dominator who abused me without an ounce of remorse, but who fucked me so well. There must be a lot of endorphins in my mind to make me enjoy how I was used. I feel good about it, I feel wonderfully good. I smile, closing my eyes, letting the melody reverberate in my brain, and with pure laziness, basked in the warmth of the sun, I sigh, letting a yawn escape, lulled by the jazz.


***



I feel restless, my senses and mind waking up from sleep. My muscles are now relaxed, so loosened by the force applied by skilled, large hands on my back, rubbing slowly. I sigh in delight from the massage I’m receiving. Finally, Tom has found a useful way to use his fingers, instead of just typing on that damn laptop. I purr softly, like a contented cat, as the fingers brush near my neck, pressing both hands on my shoulders.
“God, this feels so good!” I groan lazily, my voice trailing off between sighs.
The gentle breath hits my neck, warm, as his hands slide down my spine like a river flowing over me. I blink slowly, focusing on the large, shiny green lawn in front of me. The gardener, busy with the rose bushes, is distracted, humming to himself. The earphones, fallen close to my face, let out a faint crackle of the music playing from the phone. My brain processes where I am, bringing me back to reality. I’m not at home, nor am I lying in bed. My body is stretched out, draped over a lounge chair by the pool. And the hands on me aren’t Tom’s, nor Baby’s. My body shifts; I sit up startled, with my glasses crooked on my face and drool on my cheek.
“Mr. Roy!” I widen my eyes, my mouth opening in shock as I see him sitting in my lounge chair.
“Given how heavily you were sleeping, I almost suspected you weren’t alive.”
He moves his hand to his face, adjusting his square sunglasses. An unreadable gaze falls over me, slowly lowering and stopping in front of my chest. God, what is this man doing here?! I look around, searching for Baby. Her lounge chair is empty, and there’s no sign she has returned. The distant mansion is silent, with no trace of its occupants, and around me only Robert, distracted with his rose bushes.
“What…” I turn my face back to him, catching him still with his gaze fixed on the front of my body. “Where is Baby?”
I remove the crooked glasses, rubbing my face. I look at him, confused. How long has he been sitting next to me? His casual clothes suit him well, that’s undeniable. The man exudes testosterone from every damn pore, almost making me think he can’t be an ordinary man. So hypnotic and magnetic. I breathe quickly as I look at his legs, seeing his knee exposed, without the suits he usually wears. The white shorts stretched over his thighs accentuate the outline of his groin, crumpled over his cock. I quickly avert my gaze, shifting to the navy blue button-down shirt with short sleeves. His arms are indeed wide and strong. Now without the blazer covering them, I can see more clearly his golden skin with thin veins standing out along the light hair on his arm. The first two open buttons give me a perfect view of the blonde hair on his chest.
“Baby had to leave.” I raise my gaze to his face, still seeing him staring at the front of my body, making me look in the direction that has captured his attention.
“GOD!” I raise my hand in panic, covering my bare breasts. I’m so disoriented seeing this man that I didn’t notice the top of my bikini was missing. “MY BIKINI?”
I turn my body immediately, facing away from him, desperate. I’m caught by Robert, who had left his rose bushes to pay attention to what’s happening near the pool. I practically throw my upper body back onto the lounge chair, lying face down to shield my breasts from the old gardener’s prying eyes.