“Run away, honey.”
“I’ve found some very pretty shoes. Well, Juan found them actually, but they are very expensive. However, now you’ve taken over my life and I no longer appear to have any overheads I was thinking I would buy them, but I don’t want you to get all arsy about me not charging them to your account,” she explained.
“Arsy. Is that how I get, Natasha?”
She knew he was smiling as he said it. “Yes, sometimes, you know you do,” she replied, grinning down the phone.
“I know no such thing. In fact, I think it’s usually yourarserather than mine that comes into play when you don’t charge your things.” He laughed again, imagining her behind in his hands.
“I remember.” Her voice was low and her skin was prickling and heating with arousal and embarrassment as she too imagined his hands on her arse, stroking it, warming it, spanking it.
“Are they sexy, Tasha?” he asked seductively. “The shoes?”
“Yes,” she replied in a broken gasp.
“Will I want them wrapping around me as I fuck you?” His voice and intent was getting darker with every passing second.
“Yes,” she stammered slightly, knowing that nobody near could hear her but wondered if anyone could hear from his end.
“Then buy them, baby, and if it makes you feel happier pay for them yourself, but don’t get used to it. I like to buy you things.” He sounded entirely playful now. “What time will you be home?”
“I don’t know, probably another hour or two.” She gave Juan and the assistant the thumbs up about the shoes. “How about you?”
“About the same, but don’t forget we’re due at the vineyard no later than five for dinner, so no longer than that,” he said seriously.
“Well, don’t you be late either.”
“Bossy again, baby? I think I need to remind you which one of us is the bossy one, Tasha,” he threatened.
She breathed deeply and considered saying something else equally as bossy to force his hand now.
He laughed as he obviously read her mind, “So eager, baby, and not a cane in sight.”
“Don’t be late,” she repeated, trying to regain her composure.
She heard him speak again, but not to her this time.
“Yes, Bobby, you won that hole. Tasha, I have to go, but buy the shoes and I will see you and them later.”
She turned to the assistant as she put her phone away. “I’ll take the shoes, the trousers and the top.” She was rewarded with a huge smile making Tasha think she probably worked on commission.
Tasha paid for the shoes herself but charged the clothes to her AMEX, Jim’s AMEX.
After Jim hung up he found Bobby staring at him. “The beautiful Natasha?” He already knew the answer. “Asking for permission to spend your money?”
“Permission to spend hers actually.”
Bobby was momentarily confused. “Ah, the tracking device we know as AMEX. She still doesn’t like it? I remember the speaker phone speech when she hadn’t even opened it. So is she spending her own cash on something you disapprove of?” asked Bobby curiously.
Jim shook his head. “Shoes, expensive ones.”
“Did you want to pay for them?” asked Bobby, his confusion returning.
“No, not really, except for the fact that I like to be in control of that too, but I have bought her something much more expensive than the shoes and I think, well I know, she will lose her shit about it, but this gives me some leverage,” revealed Jim.
“Ah, I see, nicely played.” He grinned, referring to Jim’s game play with Tasha rather than his last putt. Suddenly, he pointed at his brother. “I just remembered there was a message for you with my secretary when I got back to work yesterday.” He handed his brother a piece of paper, “Sally Carter’s number.”
Jim slipped it into his pocket nonchalantly. ”Why after all of these years?”
