The Agency Page 3

  Hunter groaned as he got off the bed. “Picky, isn’t she?” he said to himself.

  Ramsay looked around the room in fascination as Amanda ushered both young men into her playroom. “Holy shit,” he said, then glanced at her and smiled. “You’re serious about this.”

  “Yes,” she said, “very serious. This is my playroom.”

  Ramsay walked over and touched the various tables and restraints, studying himself in the mirrors. “What’s in that big red chest with all the drawers?” he asked, walking over to it.

  “Toys,” she said. “Lube, cock rings, condoms, nipple clamps, various things.” She looked at Hunter to gauge his reaction.

  He was hovering by the door. Suddenly, propelling himself off the doorjamb, he walked into the room. “So, I take it you want me and girlie boy here to get it on in front of you,” he announced callously. “Do you participate, or are you strictly a voyeur? I have no objection to a woman in the mix as long as there’s a man involved”—he glanced at Ramsay through half-lidded eyes…”if you can call that a man.”

  Ramsay reacted far more strongly than Amanda anticipated. He actually took a step towards Hunter. “Piss off, macho man!”

  Hunter threw back his head and laughed.

  “All right,” Amanda said sharply. “I don’t care what the issues are. I’ve paid for both of you. Now it’s time for you to…”

  “I apologize, Amanda,” Ramsay said, lowering his head.

  Amanda looked at Hunter, whose eyes widened innocently. He lifted his hands as if he wasn’t sure what she was looking at him for, then smiled.

  *

  Ramsay felt bad for this lady. She seemed nice enough, and she was a client. Jacques was never pleased to hear complaints, and Ramsay vowed that he’d never have to hear any about him. Over the last year, he had learned to be a good actor. He had to be. Had to smile when he felt like crying, had to be brave when he felt like running away. He was determined to hone his craft. He was a professional, something he could never be on the street. There was too much pain there, too much fear. He had it good at the Agency, nice clothes, nice place to live. He met important people, went to nice parties, ate exotic foods he’d never tasted before. Hell, he’d even traveled to Europe. One of these days one of his regular clients would want him to be his exclusively and he’d live out his days in luxury. There was no way in hell Hunter Reese was going to fuck all that up for him.

  Right now he was trembling all over, but there was no reason for this woman Amanda to know that. The fluttering was taking place in his stomach mostly. It was there he kept it, and there it did the most damage. That damn Hunter Reese would end up giving him another ulcer before the night was through.

  The woman was walking over to a padded chair in the corner. She sat down, raised the foot rest, and let her gaze trail over him, then Hunter. She looked like a queen on a throne suddenly. He gave her his most beguiling smile, then looked anywhere but at Hunter, who stood only a few feet away.

  “So,” Hunter spoke, his voice booming throughout the room, “will you answer my question now, lady? Do you participate or is it only a spectator sport for ya?”

  “I rarely participate. I sometimes do touch, but mostly I enjoy watching men fucking. Among other things.”

  Ramsay swallowed. She was a sympathetic woman, and seemed to like him. She had told him she wouldn’t make him do anything which made him uncomfortable. She smiled gently at him now. If he could just make it through this night with Hunter with minimal damage… “Amanda,” he said in his softest voice, “will we be required to … well … there are things I prefer not to do with … him.” He threw a glance at Hunter, who simply threw back a mocking glare.

  “What I’d really like you to do right now, sweetie, is take off your clothes. Both of you,” she said, looking at Hunter.

  *

  Hunter pulled off his T-shirt without delay. He was undoing his pants as Ramsay slowly pulled his own shirt over his head. “I’m a little shy at the beginning,” Ramsay said with a little laugh.

  “I know it’s the first night, Ramsay,” Amanda said. “Take your time.”

  “It’s all an act.” Hunter growled, sliding the zipper down on his leather pants. “He’s playing you, woman,” he scoffed. “He uses those eyes and soft voice like weapons. He thinks they’ll get him anywhere he wants to go.”

  Ramsay licked his lips. He glanced at Amanda. “Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy.”

  Amanda hardly heard the last words Ramsay said. Her eyes were focused on the descent of that zipper as Hunter pulled it down, then began to slide the leather pants off his hips. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, which Amanda was grateful for. She couldn’t have waited much longer without having a heart attack. Her panties were wet right through now.

  Hunter Reese took off his clothes quite casually, seemingly oblivious to the effect he was having on her. She could see his ass in the mirror behind him as he leaned over to yank his boots off. If there were prizes for asses, he would have won the blue ribbon—firm, round, an absolute delight, and his cock, big and thick even in its current semierect state. She squirmed a little in her seat as he stood up to his full height and looked her in the eye. She knew he must be used to a man’s gaze, as he seemed rather surprised at the boldness of hers. She could tell because he shifted his weight a little. “Do you wake up hard?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “What excites your cock the most, having it sucked or having it stroked?”

  “Depends,” he said, “on who’s doing the sucking and the stroking.”

  Amanda glanced at Ramsay. “You have a big cock. It’s as beautiful as you are.”

  Ramsay smiled.

  “Whose cock is bigger?”

  “We’re about the same,” Ramsay said without hesitation.

  Amanda narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been together before.” No one said anything. “When?” She looked at Hunter.

  “I don’t remember,” he said.

  Ramsay gave Amanda a brilliant smile. “It was a long time ago and not significant.”

  Amanda stood up. She walked over to Hunter and met his eyes. “Would you undo my dress, please?”

  He shrugged.

  Amanda turned around.

  He undid the zipper without touching her body. She let the dress fall to the floor, then walked back to her seat in her underwear and bra. When she was seated again with her legs up, she slipped her panties down and pulled the bra straps off her shoulders, lifting her heavy breasts out of the cups.

  When she looked up, she noticed that Ramsay was smiling at her. She returned that smile. He was a gentle, sweet soul on the surface, but there was a lot going on underneath, and Hunter, God, Hunter was a maze of emotion, a luscious puzzle to be figured out. But it would take time, and she knew she wanted that time. With both of them.

  “Ramsay,” she said, running her gaze over his slender naked body, “I want you to suck Hunter’s cock. Take your time, let me see you enjoying it. It’s a succulent piece of meat and you haven’t eaten in a long time.”

  Ramsay nodded. He walked over in front of Hunter, but he didn’t look him in the eye. He dropped to his knees.

  “What’s your favorite meat, Ramsay?” Amanda asked, inserting her finger into her vagina and finding her nubbin.

  “Um,” he said, running a finger down Hunter’s cock. “I love ribs.”

  “Well, that’s the best ribs you’re ever going to taste right there. And Hunter,” Amanda said, her clit already so stiff she wanted to scream, “pinch those luscious nipples for me. Make them stiff and hard.”

  Hunter ran his two palms over his stomach and up to his nipples. With his thumbs and forefingers, he began to pinch them while Ramsay began to slowly eat Hunter’s cock. Amanda watched his face while she fingered herself. She saw the air escape from between his teeth, followed the movement of his head as it slowly fell back. Oh yes, so much lust and passion there, as strong as all his emotions. That p
assion went right though her, claiming her entire body, shaking her soul.

  Her tongue circled her lips, matching the progress of Ramsay’s tongue as it slowly lapped up the sides of Hunter’s hard, hungry cock. Hunter swayed a little on his feet, putting his hand on the mirror to steady himself. The other hand moved to Ramsay’s hair. He clutched some and pulled, some little sound escaping from his throat.

  Lust was the great equalizer. There was nothing like a good cock-eating to reduce a man to his baser instincts, to make him tremble, beg even; and suddenly she wanted to see Hunter that way. She wanted to see the beautiful, delicate Ramsay, with his enormous cock now hard and standing erect, bring the big bad Hunter to his knees. Make him beg. A powerful orgasm rattled through her as that image appeared in her mind. There was nothing sexier than that, but it wouldn’t happen tonight.

  “Swallow it,” she told Ramsay now, recovering from the pleasurable feeling which engulfed her. “I want to see you take as much of him in your throat as possible. Let him come in your mouth. Can you?” She rubbed her nipples, noticing that Hunter’s other hand was behind his back, clenched in a fist.

  Ramsay positioned himself so that he could open his jaw wider and he began to swallow. Although he couldn’t take all of it, he took more of it than seemed possible and Hunter’s hips began to pump. His face contorted into some beautiful mad symphony of pain and lust and pleasure and ecstasy, and he moaned, just one simple moan, long and deep, and Ramsay swallowed, not choking, Hunter’s cum running down the sides of his mouth. Ramsay relaxed onto his back, closing his eyes, running his tongue around his lips to capture the excess as Hunter hissed something, swore and backed up against the mirror, his eyes closed.

  Ramsay looked at Amanda, giving her a smile as he ran a hand over his chest and stomach. When Hunter reached down and yanked him up against him, Ramsay struggled away. “No, don’t,” he said, backing up.

  “Hunter,” Amanda said, “I didn’t tell you to…”

  “What are you doing?” Ramsay demanded, glaring at him. “Don’t touch me.”

  Hunter shrugged, looking at Amanda. “Thought you wanted a show.”

  “I call the shots, give the directions,” Amanda said sharply.

  “I want to fuck. It’s not the same unless I…”

  “Maybe Ramsay should fuck you,” she said casually.

  *

  Ramsay smiled. Oh, she was definitely on his side.

  Hunter relaxed back against the mirror. “You’re paying, lady.” He glanced at Ramsay, then turned around, posing provocatively against the mirror.

  Ramsay’s eyes went to that gorgeous ass. He could almost taste him. He tore his eyes away. “You wish,” he mumbled.

  Amanda stood up, putting on her underwear, then going to pick up her dress.

  Hunter turned around, surprised. “That’s it?”

  “For tonight,” she said.

  “That was easy money. Anytime, lady,” Hunter chuckled, immediately starting to dress. Amanda came over and put a hand on Ramsay’s shoulder as he too began to reach for his pants. “Are you all right?”

  Hunter glanced over at them suddenly and shook his head. “You’re good, Ramsay, I’ll give you that.” He pulled on his boots, and walked out, his T-shirt dangling from his hand.

  Amanda was looking closely at him. “What does that mean?”

  “I’m good at, you know…” He smiled shyly.

  “I don’t think that’s what he meant.”

  “Who knows what he meant,” Ramsay said, throwing up his hands. “He’s a nut job.”

  Amanda walked downstairs with him. He looked around. Hunter had already left. “I hope you’ll have me back. With someone else?”

  Amanda didn’t reply. “I’ll call my driver to take you home.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “I could call the agency if…”

  “Don’t bother,” Amanda said. “I’ll call my driver. Just give him the address.”

  She was studying him closely as she picked up her mobile. She waited with him until the car was brought around, then as he started out the door, Amanda said, “You’re a mystery, you and Hunter. It’s a mystery I’d like to solve.”

  Ramsay lifted an eyebrow. He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that.

  Chapter Three

  Amanda hardly slept all night. She was thinking of Hunter and Ramsay, not so much about them as individuals, but how they interacted. She wondered if Ramsay was afraid of Hunter. He was so delicate, and Hunter was rough trade all the way. Perhaps Hunter and Ramsay had been together at some other client’s and Hunter had physically hurt him. She would have to proceed slowly, but that was all right. The fantasy she had of Ramsay sexually dominating Hunter was enough to spur her on. Good things come to those who wait.

  The next morning she called Jacques’s cellular as she sat outside beside the pool and ate her breakfast. He’d said he was going to France, so there was no sense calling him at the mansion. There was no answer. She left a message. “Jacques, it’s important. Call me.” She put down the phone and poured herself some more coffee from the pot the new maid had left. The new girl was a little slow, but she made excellent coffee.

  * * * *

  Jacques didn’t get back to her until the following week. It was six o’clock in the evening and she was checking over the various dresses in her wardrobe, trying to decide if she would use her season tickets for the symphony tonight when the phone rang. She picked up on the second ring, not waiting for one of the servants to get it. “Amanda here.”

  “Hello, Amanda. Jacques Larose,” he said. “I’m sorry it took so long to return your call. In the future, if it’s an emergency, you can always call my secretary. He usually can fix you up temporarily.”

  “This is not a temporary kind of situation,” she said, closing her closet. To hell with the symphony. “How is France?”

  “I’m back in L.A., actually. Something came up and I had to cut my visit short.”

  “Nothing bad, I hope.”

  “Nothing I can’t control. So, what can I do for you, ma belle?”

  “I want Hunter and Ramsay on a three-month trial.”

  There was silence.

  “Jacques. I will pay you whatever you want.”

  “That’s very generous, Amanda. I hate to disappoint you, my dear, but I know firsthand that they won’t agree. And I can’t force them.”

  “Let them hear my offer first.”

  Silence again.

  “Jacques!”

  “Oui, je suis ici.”

  “You may be there in body, but you’re not answering me. Can we meet?”

  “Of course. I am pleased to meet with you anytime, Amanda.”

  “Fine. You will tell me the price for both of them, and then I’ll talk to them at the mansion, make my proposal. If they refuse, fine. If they agree, they’re mine for three months.”

  “I don’t understand, Amanda, why you would want the trouble.”

  “Is Hunter illegal?”

  “No.”

  “He wasn’t born here.”

  “No, but his father is American.”

  “Oh. Okay. I thought maybe it was the reason…”

  “Did it go all right, Hunter and Ramsay together?”

  “It was … interesting. There was no bloodshed, if that’s what you want to know.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “What’s the story?”

  “We’ll talk later in person. Next week?”

  “Tonight.”

  He chuckled. “Very well. Nine o’clock?”

  “Of course.”

  “A bientôt.”

  “Yes, see you later,” she said and hung up.

  * * * *

  The same stoic-looking butler opened the door when Amanda arrived precisely at nine. He led her into a beautifully furnished living room this time and asked her if she would like champagne. She grinned. Only Jacques would have his servants offer guests champagne as soon as they walked in the door. “Ye
s,” she said, “why not. It is a special occasion.”

  Jacques came through the door from another room as soon as the butler left to get the champagne. He smiled when he saw her. He was dressed casually in designer jeans and a brown suede shirt open at the neck. In the intimate light of the room, he looked very young, and she was never able to look at him without thinking how wickedly handsome he was. As he came closer, the lines in his face became more prominent and the youth started to fade.

  “Amanda,” he said, “don’t get up.” He reached down and kissed her on both cheeks briefly. “You’ve been offered a drink?”

  “Champagne,” she said, laughing.

  “Yes, it’s why I keep Franklin. He’s not much to look at but he knows how to make my guests feel welcome.” He took a seat in an identical leather chair opposite her and threw one leg over the other.

  The man called Franklin came back in and, with a bow, offered her the long-stemmed champagne flute on a tray. She took the glass with a nod, and he turned to Jacques. “Do you require anything, sir?”

  “Bring the bottle,” he said, “and another glass. I wouldn’t want my guest to drink alone.”

  “Right away, sir,” he said and disappeared again.

  Amanda raised her face to the ceiling as she took a sip of the champagne. Always the best. She wondered if Hunter and Ramsay were here and if Jacques had told them about her proposal.

  As if reading her thoughts, Jacques said, “I haven’t spoken to them. I’ll leave that to you.”

  “They are here?”

  “Yes, I told them to wait for my instructions this evening.” The servant was back. Jacques took a glass and told him to put the bottle on the table. “Close the door, Franklin. We won’t be needing you anymore, right now.”

  “Very well, sir.” He nodded and disappeared, closing the door behind him quietly.

  “This is a beautiful room.” Amanda looked around. Everything was wood. The ceiling was sculptured, and the entire room smelt of leather.