Free The Voyeur by Kay Jaybee

how still she sat, how composed she appeared, and how she only let her gaze linger on Anya when Mark was paying attention to one of the other women. Is it possible that the blonde has weighed Mark up already?
    The third interviewee was another matter. Elizabeth was firing questions at Mark, her expectations of how a housekeeper should be treated obviously very set in her own mind. Anya already knew Elizabeth wouldn’t be getting the job. Gorgeous she might be, with impeccable qualifications, but the new PA’s theory about her being more dominatrix than submissive were confirmed the moment Elizabeth had begun to speak. Although Anya could easily imagine herself on the receiving end of the older woman’s whip, there was no way she could picture her playing the role that Mark required.
    ‘Well, ladies, I have now outlined the more orthodox side of the housekeeper’s job. As you will have realised from Anya’s advert, however, there are additional duties that accompany this post.’
    Anya felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. This is it. This is when he tells them what he really wants. She braced herself for some disapproving looks as Mark continued, telling them, just as he’d told her at the office at Bridge’s, that he had an ambition to have a staff who would willingly fulfil his sexual fantasies, and that regular semi-submissive sex orchestrated by himself, and with his PA (Anya felt herself colour a ruddy scarlet), would be required.
    No one spoke. Mark paused for a few seconds, giving time for his words to sink in, then said, ‘Anya and I will leave you for a few minutes. If, in the light of this new information, you are no longer interested in the job then you may leave. All your expenses will be repaid, and you can rest assured that we won’t bother you again.’
    Perched on the edge of an armchair in the luxurious living room, Anya felt her throat close in on itself. She swallowed hard, trying to relieve the pressure. The enormity of what was actually happening seemed to engulf her. If any of those women stayed, then she was going to have to like her. There was no choice. Not if she wanted to stay with Mark, and she found that she did. It had already become a challenge to make him be the one to lose control.
    Waiting in silence, the air between employer and employee felt more highly charged than ever. How does he always appear so calm? Anya bought herself up short. How can I think like that when I’ve only met him twice? Perhaps he isn’t always this in command of himself? Somehow Anya suspected he was, though.
    Mark’s assured voice broke through her ponderings. ‘I heard the front door close. It appears that they’ve had long enough to make their decision.’
    Anya inclined her head in response; her throat still felt too dehydrated to risk speech as Mark pulled himself away from the wall against which he’d lounged. ‘Shall we see if there is anyone left to interview?’
    Brushing imaginary flecks of dust from her skirt, Anya got up, aware that despite her urgent masturbation session in the shower her thighs had become hot and sticky all over again. Although Mark hadn’t said what the interview process would involve, Anya suspected there would be more to it than enquiries about the candidates’ previous employment record and personal career goals.
    Anya’s heart was reverberating so loudly in her ears that she suspected other people would be able to hear it. Following at a safe distance, she held her breath as Mark pulled open the dining room door.
    Relief coursed through every fibre of Anya’s being. Only one woman remained. Just one. Not only did that mean she wouldn’t have to begin her search all over again, but it meant her hunch had been correct, and she had won the bet against Mark.
    ‘Miss Hooper. Thank you for staying.’
    Clara’s intense blue eyes turned to Anya rather than Mark, even though he’d been the one who’d spoken. Anya contemplated how Mark might react to this,