Free The Doxy's Daybook: A Friday in Two Acts by Sable Jordan Page A

narrowed slits Thad studies my face, perhaps searching for some semblance of mistruth.  He’ll find none.
    “As I was saying,” I continue acerbically, fixing him with a steady gaze, “Beyond this encounter is questionable, however tonight is for Tony, understand?”
    He stands swiftly, the skin between his brows wrinkles as he stares down at me.  Thad’s the dominant energy in he and Winston’s relationship.  Being spoken to this way is not something h e’s accustomed to, I’m sure.  Actually, I’m counting on it.
    “Excuse me? Sounded tuh me like you were tellin’ me what tuh do.” 
    The more upset he gets, the thicker the drawl, but the menacing stance doesn’t threaten me.  I tilt my head back in challenge; smirk.  “Good.  You do understand me. I was beginning to worry we had a language barrier.”
    A rough bark scrapes his throat, rife with disbelief.  “Ya know what we do tuh wild young things like you back on the ranch?  We break buckin’ fillies, sweetheart.  Ride ‘em tuh submission.”
    My voice reclaims its Georgia roots, finds a southern flavor that rivals his. “Well, this here ain’t the ranch now, is it, partna’?”
    Thad’s fuming, face dark with anger.  “Ya ain’t exactly makin’ me like ya more.”
    “Another item on a long list of misconstructions between us, Thad.” Shoot my whiskey; swallow hard against the bite. “Your liking me is of zero consequence.  As I said before, I’m here for Tony’s pleasure.  You couldn’t afford my fee for yours.”
    His chest heaves with the force of his breathing, muscles taut and coiled, ready for a brawl.  If he weren’t a good southern boy and I weren’t a dame, chances are good Thad would have punched me square in the jaw. Instead, he hooks it firmly with one calloused hand, jerking my head all the way up to look at him, fingers clenching tight enough to bruise.
    “You little—” He shakes his head, lets the slur die in his throat.  “You got a smart ass mouth.”
    Lick my lips; prod the bull.   “Man enough to stuff it, Thaddeus?”
    The use of his full name makes him more reckless. 
    He wants to. 
    Everything in that glittery, wild-eyed gaze tells me so, and just as my fingers caress the stiffening flesh behind his zipper, he lets my face go with a deliberate nudge.
    I work my jaw, stretching it gently to get the blood flowing again.  The water stops in the bathroom and Thad leers down at me.  I purr with seductive defiance. “Go get yourself together, ‘cause in a minute Tony’s gonna fuck me so good, you’ll be beggin’ to saddle up and ride this filly, too, cowboy.”

SCENE 3
    EDWARDIAN SUITE
    THE PLAZA HOTEL
    4:48pm
    Thad emerges from the bathroom to find his lover center stage—naked, stretched spread eagle, lying head-to-foot on the crisp white duvet covering the bed.  Tony’s dick is pointing skyward and I’m bent in the space between his legs—fully dressed—ready to take him in my mouth.  I’ve staged him this way so I can see the look on Thad’s face when he comes into the room.  As expected it’s not a happy one.  I raise a brow, grin at him as he stands guard at the foot of the bed. 
    The towel hugs his waist tightly, above it the sight of strong arms and chest actually make my mouth water.  He’s a delightful sight; tanned skin, dark-hair, and muscled flesh.  I forget that I’m rubbing up Tony’s legs, lightly grazing his skin with my nails.  He wriggles madly beneath me. He’ll have to wait.
    Slowly, I crawl over Tony, let the loose fabric of my dress tease his length, drag over his abs as I make my way up his shaved body. I keep going, all the way up, until my knees bracket either side of his head, my crotch so close to his face I can feel his breath on my thighs.  I lift my torso, not quite eye-level with Thad, but high enough to stare into that frosty blue gaze.
    Head hidden under my frock, Tony takes the moment to kiss my legs with smooth passes of his lips, more