The Goddess Ch. 08

Literotic asexstories – The Goddess Ch. 08 by LindsayMurray,LindsayMurray
Chapter 8Benny

Okay, she was definitely flirting with me. It made me wonder if I’d misread her during her lecture last week. Had I made a complete fool of myself thanking her for her lesson? Probably. But she seemed pleased, and I could get used to a beautiful woman looking at me like that.

She packed her things to leave, every movement she made filled with elegance and grace. Even her lips moved gracefully when she spoke. She caught me staring at her when she left, and I couldn’t help the blush that stained my face. I felt like I’d been caught watching her undress.

When she left, I bussed the table, wiped it down, and tucked the envelope in my apron. Heading back to the computer station, I checked it cautiously.

No tip. Not a penny. Instead, there was an address.

9249 Fullerton Parkway, Suite 400. 9pm. Don’t be late.

I stared at the address and the note, my cheeks and neck burning with excitement and embarrassment. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?

I had a shift tonight and no way to contact her. It was a big game tonight, and I was hoping the tips would make up for the fact that Ryan had given me fewer shifts at the bar. I still hadn’t found a replacement roommate to take Brandon’s place, nor had I found another job to replace or supplement the bar.

I really needed to work tonight’s shift. Technically I could get Denise to cover for me since she’d already asked. But giving up a big night like tonight was going to leave me short, and it wasn’t smart.

And then I had to consider the obvious. What did she expect of me once I arrived? Was this about sex? Was there something else? Was she one of those women who got off on insulting and dominating men? If so, that wasn’t my thing. I could take some scolding for doing my job poorly, but I didn’t want my dick stepped on. Even if her legs looked flawless in those stilettos.

Then again…

If you want me to make you work for your tip, all you need to do is ask.

I tucked the receipt into my pocket and clocked out. I had two hours before my game day shift was supposed to start. As much as I wanted to visit the strange address, I didn’t really have a choice.

But my gut told me if I missed this opportunity, I wouldn’t get another one.

I really want to go. Just to ease my curiosity.

She hadn’t left a phone number, so I couldn’t get in touch to explain… but was she really the kind of woman to reschedule? Or would she say something like, ‘oh, what a shame, goodbye,’ and hang up on me?

I can’t go. I need to work that shift.

Sitting in my car, I leaned my head against the headrest. Exhaustion felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders, and I wanted to melt into the back seat of the car and pass out. I worked all the time, applied for every job that came up, and I still felt like I was failing. Just once, for fifteen minutes, I wished I could not fail at something.

I didn’t fail today.

The smile on The Woman’s face when I’d brought out her food told me that I’d passed her test. When was the last time someone looked at me like they were impressed with me? I was hungry to experience that again.

If I didn’t show up, she’d never ask again. I knew that for a fact. This was my only shot. If I rejected her offer, she probably wouldn’t even come to the café again. And something about that felt awful.

Game day shift. Lots of tips. Maybe another cute girl.

But I work all the time. Can’t I make a selfish decision once in a while? We’ll have a tight week, but we won’t starve to death.

My mind made up, I texted Denise and asked if she could cover my shift, claiming a stomach bug. She responded immediately, and I went home to take a shower and change before my rendezvous with The Woman.

***I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t a shipping warehouse out in the middle of an industrial park. I hope I didn’t just give up my game day shift to be strung up and cut into little pieces and sold on the black market. That would be a shitty way to die.

There were a few cars in the parking lot, and a light shone inside the warehouse. I sat in my car and watched as people left one by one. A man, then a woman, then another woman, then a few minutes later, a couple. Finally, there were only two cars left. It was a minute to nine. I had to decide if I wanted to do this, or if I was going to hightail it out of there.

The back of my neck burned with nerves as I got out of my car, straightening and smoothing down my shirt and tucking it into my only pair of clean jeans.

What am I doing here? I don’t even know what I’m walking into!

But then I remembered the way she’d gazed up at me over her wine glass, those dark flawless lips ever so slightly twisted up at the corner of her mouth in a smirk.

Wiping the sweat from my hands onto my jeans, I walked to the front door, opening it cautiously and peeking through. Inside I could see a blonde woman at a classy front desk talking to someone I couldn’t see from my angle.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door all the way, stepping inside the lobby and looking around.

The Woman with the amber eyes stood beside the secretary in a black blouse, a red leather corset, and a black lace skirt, showing off her phenomenal curves and long legs. The black high heels added to the elegance and allure. She stared at me with a knowing look in her eyes, and smiled like a wild animal about to pounce.

I choked on air, unable to tear my eyes off her.

The Woman kept my gaze but leaned over to her receptionist and said, “See? Told you.”

“This is why I don’t place bets with you anymore. You’re always right.”

“Don’t forget it.”

“How can I, you won’t let me!”

I stood frozen in place, feeling awkward as hell, and seriously considering turning around and running for the hills. But before I could move, The Woman took slow, measured steps my way, stopping right in front of me. She put one hand on her hip and cocked her head slightly as she studied me.

“Hello Benny.”

The way she was looking at me made me reconsider my decision to be here. A hot tingle ran down my spine and I felt my face heat up a little. I swallowed so I could speak but my voice still broke embarrassingly. “Hello miss.”

Her eyes seemed to sparkle. “We need to talk.”

“O-okay,” I stammered, feeling like a child meeting their hero. I was turned on and terrified, which was a bizarre combination that I didn’t know how to process.

She turned and walked to a door just past the receptionist, and I followed her, nervous about whatever was coming next. Maybe she really would tie me up and beat me.

Maybe I wouldn’t totally hate it.

The room she led me into was small, but with high ceilings that made it feel bigger than it actually was. It was decorated like a library or an office. There was a fireplace with candles where the fire should be, flickering ominously. Near one wall was a desk filled with papers and notebooks. A massive set of bookshelves were pressed against the wall behind the desk, filled with books that looked old and well-read. Tasteful paintings hung on the walls; oils and acrylics by the looks of them, mostly landscapes, though there were a few paintings of wine bottles, and one of a bowl of fruit. They were cheap and probably from a thrift store, but only someone like me would notice that. A dark, lush carpet covered part of the floor, and several armchairs and a couch framed the fireplace. I felt like I’d been transported back in time to a Victorian library.

Her heels clicked on the wood panels until she stopped on the rug. She gestured to one of the armchairs, and I sat, feet together, back straight, on the edge of my seat. I had a sinking suspicion I was about to be tortured, even if I wasn’t cut up into pieces and sold for my organs.

The Woman sat in the chair across from me and poured herself a glass of red wine. “Do you drink wine,” she asked me.

“Not usually.”

“Would you like some anyway?”

“Maybe just a little, miss,” I said. I felt it would be rude to reject her offering. She poured some and handed me the glass, waiting a moment to release it into my hand. “Thank you.”

She swirled her own wine and studied me. I felt myself blush again.

I felt like a scolded child sitting in front of her. She disarmed me with a single glance or a few words, making me want her, and want to avoid her at the same time.

I hated it, but I needed to see this through, because I was drawn to her whether I hated it or not.

“Be honest, Benny. How pissed are you with me?” Her tone was casual, like she was trying to put me at ease.

“What? Why would I be?” It felt rude to swear in front of her, despite the fact that she’d just done so herself.

“I didn’t leave you a tip today… I’m sure that was irritating.”

“I’ve learned not to expect one, miss. From you or anyone.”

She sipped her wine and I tasted my own. I didn’t normally drink red wine because it tasted bitter and it made my mouth feel dry, but this wine was nice. Still not something I’d pick up if I wanted to get a buzz, but it was nice. It felt luxurious in my mouth, and I was honored to share a glass with her instead of serving it to her. It was a weird feeling, because I didn’t even know who she was. Was she that special? Or was she just a woman?

She spoke before I got a chance to say a word. “I have a request, Benny… tonight, while we talk, I’d like complete and brutal honesty. Don’t give me the answer you think I want to hear. Give me the truth. I’m surprisingly hard to offend.”

“You were pretty offended when you left without ordering lunch,” I said, instantly regretting it. That sounded pretentious and disrespectful. I looked down at my wine glass in embarrassment.

“You’re right, I was. Do you know why I was so irritated that day?”

“Because your wine was warm?”

She smirked. “No. Because I was short on cash the last time I visited, and I came back that day intending to make it up to you.”

Damn. Now I felt bad. The fifty-dollar bill had sat in my wallet longer than I cared to admit, though it had inevitably made its way to the bank to be turned into rent. It felt like dirty money. Every time I thought about it, her words came back to me, alongside a weird twist of guilt in my gut.

The Woman continued. “And on top of that, I liked you, and you were being so distant and ignoring me. Or rather… it felt like you were ignoring me. I understand you were just busy and I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

Pursing my lips, I looked down at my wine. Her little speech now felt even more warranted. “I was ignoring you, miss.”

She took a sip of her wine and relaxed deeper into her chair, crossing her legs and showing off velvet-smooth skin all the way up to her mid-thigh. From the way she was sitting and watching me, I felt like she wanted me to stare at her. She was beautiful, and she affected me, and she knew it.

She is definitely thinking about stepping on me with those heels.

“You were?”

“Well, I wasn’t ignoring you. But I was making you less of a priority, and I hate to admit it, but it was because you barely left me a tip the last time you came in.”

Her unwavering golden stare made me want to shift in my seat, but I tried to stay still.

“I guess that’s why your scolding affected me so much. Because it felt warranted.”

I should stop talking before she actually decides to punish me or something.

“Benny, you should really be more careful about what you say to me.”

“I’m sorry, miss.”

Her voice was soft, and I could barely hear her. “There you go again, backing yourself into a corner.” She took another sip. “Really, Benny, I told myself I wouldn’t be too mean to you tonight before I got your consent to do so, but you’re making it surprisingly difficult.”

I resisted the urge to apologize again, instead taking a sip of my wine and sneaking another glance at her. Damn she was gorgeous. Her long, graceful fingers were tipped with a dark red polish that matched her lipstick. Her body language was pure sex and raw power. She spoke and held herself like some foreign dignitary, expecting to be impressed and entertained.

I think I’m the entertainment.

“I thought you wouldn’t come tonight,” she whispered.

“I almost didn’t.”

“Why?”

I hesitated, trying to think of the best answer. She spoke before I got a chance to say anything. “Remember, I want the truth, even if you think it offends me.”

“I was supposed to work tonight. I got my shift covered so I could come.”

Her face changed slightly but I couldn’t place her expression. “You work mornings and evenings?”

“I tend bar in the evenings. Well, some evenings. Lately it’s been less often.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

She looked surprised at that. “I knew you were young… I didn’t realize how young.”

I knew better than to ask her age, so I stayed quiet, letting her lead the conversation.

“Are you in school?”

“No, miss… I just work.”

“Two jobs, both of them only earning you tips, and I’ve shorted you twice.” She shook her head in mock condescension. “You must really like me or something.”

“Heh,” I rubbed at the back of my neck. She was flirting with me again, I was sure of it this time. That cruel look she had in her eye, it wasn’t real, it was a game to her. She was enjoying my embarrassment.

At least I can’t fail at being embarrassed.

She took another sip of her wine. “That’s why you tolerate those women flirting and teasing you at the café. For the tips.”

I shrugged. “That, and I know it’s not really about me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Those women probably feel neglected by their husbands, or unappreciated by their kids, and they just want some attention and spoiling. It’s not about me, it’s about them, so I don’t think too much about it. Plus, I really do need the tips.” I tried to laugh it off, but then I thought about how I was going to have to sleep on the couch again tonight, and I’d given up my game day shift for a glass of wine by a fake fireplace with a woman who enjoyed embarrassing me.

I’m such a dumbass.

“Are you struggling?” She asked softly. Her tone had shifted to something more serious and gentle, and I hated the pity.

I shrugged and tried not to make a big deal about it. “I get by.”

“One.”

Oh. That tone was… different.

I held my glass in my hands, halfway to my mouth and unsure of what she meant. “What?”

“One. I warned you not to lie. That’s one time you’ve lied to me tonight. Don’t do it again. It irritates me to hell and puts me in a very bad mood.”

“How do you know I lied,” I huffed a small laugh under my breath in irritation. Who does this woman think she is?

“Everyone has a tell, honey, and I’m very good. Now tell me the truth. Are you struggling financially?”

I pursed my lips but took a deep breath. It was embarrassing to admit, but apparently, that’s why I was here. To embarrass.

I don’t need to sit here and take this. I could walk out the door right now. Get in my car and call that cute girl… what’s her name?

But I’d never see her again.

The only thing she’d asked me for was honesty. I told myself it didn’t matter if she knew my struggles; she was a stranger, and I clearly meant nothing to her other than an evening of entertainment. If tonight ended badly, I could cut her off and go home, and forget this ever happened.

“Yes, miss. It’s pretty rough right now.”

“How rough?”

“I work two jobs just to afford rent.” My statement came across flat and slightly sarcastic. “Most of my meals are leftovers from my job, and I don’t remember the last time I slept in a bed.”

That last one was a lie. I remembered the last time I slept in a bed. It was the night before I’d gone to pick up Momma from the care home.

Momma who had looked at me in fear this evening when I’d come into her room to grab a change of clothes. She’d studied me with trepidation and anxiety, scanning the photos on her bedside table, trying to figure out who I was.

The Woman didn’t pick up on that lie, thank goodness. I didn’t feel like fessing up.

“And you gave up a game day shift to come drink wine with me. Why?”

I stammered and tried to figure out an answer. She cut me off. “Did you think I was going to fuck you?”

I flushed, feeling embarrassed and a little insulted. “I didn’t know what to think. I wondered if it was a possibility, but honestly… I didn’t know.”

“Then why? Why did you come?”

“Would you have given me another chance?” I leaned forward in my chair, placing my elbows on my knees. “If I didn’t show up tonight? Would I ever see you at Le Fleur again? Would you have ever given me another olive branch?”

Her expression was guarded.

“I ask honestly,” I said, holding up a hand. “Because I don’t know you… I don’t even know your name,” I whispered.

She ignored the comment about her name, choosing not to offer it. “I would have returned to the restaurant,” she said instead. “But I never would have attempted to invite you again… unless you were brave enough to confront me and tell me why you chose a Saturday night at the bar instead of accepting an invitation from me. But I don’t think you would have.”

“Probably not, miss.”

“No, probably not.”

A heavy silence hung between us, and I sensed she was waiting for me to take the initiative to break it. Looking at her was a challenge because she was still staring at me like she wanted to step on my dick with those stilettos. But I could also tell she enjoyed being watched. She wanted me to fawn over her. She was letting me look… so I looked.

In the low light, her eyes were a deeper golden than they’d appeared in the afternoon sun. She reminded me of a dragon, and this was her lair.

What does she hoard?

“What do you want from me?”

She swirled her wine with a subtle smirk. Slowly raising the glass, she took a sip. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the movement of her lips and her throat as she swallowed. There was a dark red stain left on the glass. My eyes traced her flawless figure and finally met her gaze.

“I want to play with you.”