Heller's Girlfriend (19 page)

“I’ll second that,” I
agreed.

I cast my eyes around the
perimeter of the backyard, wondering what the neighbours would
think of any skinny-dipping activities. But it was a very private
space, eight-foot solid fences providing a discreet barrier between
the couple and their neighbours. Those fences may well have been
one of the features of the house that had won the couple over when
they originally purchased the property.

We made a quick check down the
sides of the house. Both were securely fenced off from the front
yard, with a locked gate on the right hand side of the house
leading to the front. We were both pleased to note that those
fences would significantly reduce the risk of any gatecrashers. On
the terrace again, I turned to look at Marty and Gabriela’s house.
It was beautiful and luxurious and would have been worth a
fortune.

“Ever think you’ll be able to
afford something like this, Farrell?” I asked him wistfully.

“Not a hope in hell.”

“Me neither.”

“No point brooding over it
then.” It was good advice, so I stopped wishing for things that
could never happen.

Marty came out to the terrace
with bags of ice and filled up the ice buckets, wedging a couple of
bottles of champagne in one and a couple of bottles of white wine
in the other. He was dressed slightly more formally by then in dark
brown trousers and a tan and green buttoned shirt. He went back
inside and in a moment we heard seductive soft music floating from
some outdoor speakers.

We noticed that it was only ten
minutes to go until party time, so sauntered to the front door in
preparation for our initial duties. Walking through the living area
again I noticed that Marty had placed a bowl of assorted condoms on
each side table. I stopped briefly for a quick look. Wow! I never
knew they came in so many colours, sizes, flavours, and with so
many . . . er . . . features. I picked up one that had a small
mechanical device attached to it for stimulating the woman while
also performing its normal job, my eyes almost popping out of my
head.

“What are you doing, Chalmers?”
hissed Farrell.

I showed him, pointing out the
device. “Have you ever seen anything like this before? Look at it!
It does two things at the same time.”

“Put it back before they notice.
Come on, we have work to do.”

I reluctantly replaced the
fascinating condom in the bowl, wanting to rummage through the rest
for any other interesting ones. Farrell waited for me impatiently
at the front door.

After a brief discussion, we
agreed that I’d do the greeting and ticket checking, being
naturally more charming than him. He would be the silent muscle on
the side, only stepping in if there were any problems.

“A role made just for you,” I
teased.

He regarded me steadily with
those hypnotic eyes, neither smiling nor offering any banter back
to me.

“Do you actually have
any
sense of humour?” I asked, frustrated by his lack of reaction to
everything.

“No,” he said flatly.

“Not even one tiny, miniscule
portion?”

“No.”

He’d obviously gone to the Clive
School of Charm. I suddenly wished I was working with Ben again. He
was fun. Or Bick. It would be good if he defected over to
Heller’s
. He’d be loads of fun to work with. But then,
considering the circumstances, Farrell probably was the best choice
for the night.

He was still gazing at me
solidly and I wondered if he was reading my thoughts via my face
again. It was not a skill I’d want to encourage in him, so I
deliberately shut my face down, clearing it of any expression. That
small attempt triggered that little twitch of his mouth again,
indicating his great mirth.

“I know that you do have a sense
of humour. In Farrell terms, you’re laughing your arse off right
now at my attempts to be expressionless,” I insisted. I was
persistent if nothing else.

“I don’t and I’m not.” Deadpan.
But then that betraying movement of his lips again.

He was deeper than an ocean,
that one
, I thought, but couldn’t pursue it any further because
we had our first ring of the doorbell. It was an attractive couple
in their late thirties, who smiled at me pleasantly and willingly
handed over their tickets for me to check. I smiled back at them
and invited them in, directing them through the living room outside
to the terrace.

There was a trickle of guests
from that point. Another couple; then two single women; three
couples who arrived together; then two couples together; and the
final two couples both arriving within minutes of each other.

Once they had been shown to the
terrace, I turned to Farrell. “That’s twenty guests by my
count.”

“We’ll give it fifteen more
minutes,” he said. “They won’t want us hanging around them
yet.”

After five minutes, another
couple approached, embarrassed and a little flushed from
rushing.

The man threw his hands up in
despair. “Sorry, we don’t have tickets. We were only able to
organise a babysitter at the last second. But Marty knows us
well.”

“Wait here, please,” I ordered
and left Farrell to watch over them, pokerfaced. I whispered
discreetly into Marty’s ear, dragging him away from a very busty
woman in a revealing diaphanous red dress who looked as though she
was up for anything tonight. Marty followed me back to the front
door and after a few big hugs and exclamations, gave the couple the
all-clear to enter. I smiled and let them pass, wishing them an
enjoyable evening.

Let’s hope someone enjoys
it
, I thought.

“Twenty-two guests and two
clients. Twenty-four all up to look after tonight,” Farrell noted.
“The two of us should be able to manage that with no problems.”

Just as we were about to lock
the front doors for the night, there was another knock. I opened
the door and found two men standing on the doormat. They were
good-looking men, no doubt about it, urbane, chic and well-groomed.
But the fact remained that they were two men. I peered behind them
looking for two women following them up the drive, but nope. No
women. Just two men.

“Sorry guys,” I said politely.
“There’s a private party here tonight.”

“Yeah, we’ve heard. We’re here
to join in the fun.”

“Again, sorry guys. No single
men allowed.”

I started to close the door. One
of them pushed back against it.

“Didn’t you hear us,
sweetheart?” he asked, not anywhere near as pleasant as me. “We
want in on the fun. Lots of shagging going on tonight we hear, and
we want a share.”

“You heard me,
sweetheart
,” I repeated. “No single men allowed. House
rules.”

“I’m not single,” smirked one of
them. “I’m married.”

“Well, you should have brought
your wife along instead of your boyfriend,” I smiled grimly, still
determinedly polite.

He pushed against the door
again.

“It’s members only,” I informed
him, pushing back.

“I have a
member
,” he
sniggered and his friend piped up that he had one as well. They
sniggered again. I rolled my eyes at their tremendous wit.

“Look,
memberhead
,” I
said, much less pleasantly. “No ticket, no entry, and that’s that.
So piss off.”

“You think you can stop the both
of us from getting inside, sweetheart? One little girl against two
men?”

Geez, I hated being called a
girl.
I clenched my fists, but kept my voice calm. “No, of
course not. But I have a secret weapon.”

“Your tits are great,
sweetheart, but hardly a secret weapon, poking out like that.” They
sniggered again.

I opened the door wider and
Farrell stepped out from behind it where he’d been standing, mostly
hidden. Their eyes widened in surprise. I smiled at them.

“I believe my colleague already
told you gentlemen that it’s a members only function here tonight
and that you require a ticket and a female partner to join the
other guests. When you come back with all of those requirements met
to our satisfaction, we’ll be more than pleased to let you come in.
Until then, enjoy your evening.”

And he stood there, implacable,
his muscled arms crossed, face stony. You’d think twice before
taking him on. And apparently they did, because they slunk away
without any further argument.

We watched them leave and then I
closed and locked the front door behind us. As I turned to face
Farrell, his eyes flew up to my face. He looked guilty and a little
ashamed, as if he’d done something that was beneath him. I think
that the men mentioning my boobs had drawn his attention to them
and I’d just nearly caught him having a quick perv at them.

I regarded him coolly for a few
moments. He looked back at me, his gaze unwavering. I decided to
let the incident go, not having noticed any other indication that
he was a serial tit gawker. I could forgive a couple of looks, I
guess. I’d been told on many occasions that I have very nice boobs,
and he was a man after all, and they couldn’t help themselves from
compulsively looking at boobs. Or so I’d been led to believe over
the years by my boyfriends and male acquaintances.

He saved himself by diverting my
attention very effectively. “What would you have done with them if
I hadn’t been here?” he asked me.

“Taken them on,” I said,
surprised he was even asking. “I would have karate-kicked the first
one in the stomach without warning, and pushed over the other while
he was distracted watching his friend. Then I would have run back
inside and locked the door.”

“I can see why Heller worries
about you so much, woman. I’m going to have to up the ante on your
training.”

“Well, I can’t stand being
called a girl,” I told him. “Or ‘woman’ either, if you want to
know.”

He didn’t want to know. I
trailed after him down the hallway to the outdoor entertainment
area.

Chapter 14

The next couple of hours were
dull. Farrell and I stood on the periphery of the crowd on the
first terrace, partly in the shadows, trying not to be conspicuous.
We mostly stood together, keeping an attentive eye on the
proceedings. The guests were becoming agreeably and slowly sloshed,
and there was a lot of flirting going on already. I didn’t think
Marty and Gabriela would have any trouble getting this party
started.

Farrell maintained his usual
silent stance, face expressionless. I amused myself by watching the
guests and their interactions with each other.

The two single women were very
popular with everyone. They were probably the most flirtatious, not
having partners to worry about during the evening and surely
attending the party with only one thing on their minds. There would
probably be some girl-on-girl action happening later. I wondered
briefly if that would excite Farrell. In my experience, most men
love that kind of thing, and he had shown that he was definitely a
man and not an android with his earlier illicit boob-peeping. It
was actually comforting to know that he was human after all. I felt
more relaxed with him somehow. I decided to watch him closely
tonight to see if there were any further cracks in his mask during
the debauchery.

After a while, Marty clapped his
hands to get everyone’s attention and directed his guests to the
living room for the adult movie show. They all cheered with
enthusiasm and drifted into the living area. I saw a man with a
goatee running his hand over the busty lady’s generous derriere as
he helped her to the living area. She didn’t seem to mind, judging
by the way she clamped her hand firmly on his butt in response.

Farrell and I took the chance to
patrol the perimeter together at that point. We walked down each
side of the house and surveyed the entire back yard. After that
task was completed to Farrell’s satisfaction, we quickly checked
around the front yard as well, before locking the front door behind
us again. Inside we gave each room a cursory check. Nobody had
sneaked off for any private time yet.

While our clients and their
guests were fully occupied watching the raunchy movie, we took the
opportunity to refresh ourselves. We used the facilities, and
grabbed a drink of juice and a couple of canapes, which Gabriela
had thoughtfully left for us in the library/study. I checked my
phone, but there were no messages. I knew that Heller would forget
to ring me. Misery stabbed at my heart, but I deliberately pushed
it away with a fierce shove. I had no claim on him, after all, so
had no cause to be jealous about anything that he did. Or complain
if he’d found someone he cared about more than me. But that
particular thought only increased my misery.

“You all right?” asked Farrell,
noticing my long face.

“Yep,” I lied, shoving my phone
back into my pocket and busying myself in polishing off the
canapes.

We didn’t linger on our break,
but made out way back to the living room. The lights were off and
the room flickered with masses of candles that Gabriela and Marty
must have lit while Farrell and I were eating. The adult movie was
in full swing. A man and two women did exceptionally intimate
things to each other on the big screen, accompanied by what seemed
to me to be an unnecessarily large amount of very fake moaning.
Then others joined in their threesome and they were soon all
enjoying an energetic gang bang. It was a very graphic movie,
triple-X rated, and for someone like me who hadn’t bothered
watching much porn in her life, it was a real eye-opener.

I was fascinated and couldn’t
tear my eyes away from the screen for a full five minutes. When I
stopped watching I realised that I’d probably had my mouth open for
the entire time. Fortunately nobody could see what my expression
was because of the flickering lighting. But also nobody was looking
at me in any case, being far too busy watching as the busty lady
straddled the goatee man’s lap. They were kissing deeply, her dress
ruched up, his hands on her ample and bare arse, and her hands down
the front of his pants.