The Bet - Chapter 17

Hello!

As you can see, this update is shorter than some of the monstrously long chapters I've been putting out recently. But it's also coming a little earlier, so there!

I wanted to give you all a little more fine-tuned control of how this particular confrontation would go, so this chapter is a bit of a setup for a more sexually explosive chapter next time.

I hope you enjoy!

...

For the third time, Claire found herself sitting in her car, staring up at Zane Kruger’s tacky McMansion. 

The first time, she had been dismissive and annoyed to even be meeting him. The second time, she had been confident and eager to show off her sexual wiles. She didn’t know how she felt this time. Zane had successfully manipulated and confused her to the point that she wasn’t sure what to think anymore. The loathsome little pervert took up more space in her mind than any man ever had before, and that included her husband, as shameful as that was to admit.

Claire sighed and checked her makeup in the rearview. Flawless as always. Then she cursed herself for even caring. Her body still burned with sexual heat after her illicit meeting with Zane last night. He had cum in her mouth… The memory still made Claire cringe with embarrassment, even though it sent a crackle of erotic energy pulsing through her every time it came to mind. But Claire hadn’t orgasmed at all. At least, not until she got home and took a shower. She had cum multiple times then, with hot water cascading down her body and her fingers working frantically between her legs… but none of those climaxes had been truly satisfying.

Claire shook her head to clear her thoughts. This was going to be a perfectly normal business meeting. The first truly professional meeting she had ever held with Zane. It didn’t matter what she looked like. Zane wouldn’t be pursuing her regardless. Zane had pledged that he wouldn’t flirt with her at all during business meetings anymore. That was why she had given him thatblowjob in the first place.  

But, as Claire slammed the car door shut behind her and clicked her way up the driveway to the house, she wondered if Zane would really be able to keep that promise. Zane was an… despite everything that had happened so far, Claire was still unwilling to think of him as an ‘alpha’; the term was eyerollingly repugnant to her. But he was a dominant, confident man. The kind of man who took what he wanted when he wanted it. Would he really be able to just sit and politely smile when a woman he desired was right there in front of him?

As she rang the doorbell, Claire grew more and more certain that there was no way that Zane would be able to resist. Especially after last night, when she had given him a submissive blowjob, but denied him the prize he wanted most: her sweet married pussy. 

No, thought Claire with a smirk, there’s no chance the little weasel will be able to hold himself back once he sees me. Today will be another meeting where Zane practically slobbered all over her, made even worse this time by the fact that she had given in a little yesterday. 

The thought made Claire smirk with a feeling of superiority, but it also lit a little flame in her lower belly. Sparring with Zane was… interesting. Engaging. She had to admit that the idea of going toe to toe with Zane in an erotic battle of wills wasn’t one hundred percent unpleasant anymore. 

“Claire!” came Zane’s voice over the intercom. “Glad you’re here.. I’m not used to having boxes all over my bedroom, so I’m actually kind of relieved you were able to meet today. Give me a second. I’ll be right down.”

Claire unconsciously smoothed her skirt over her hips and straightened her shirt as she waited for Zane to make his way down the stairs. She mentally prepared for their usual game of cat and mouse, determined that today she would be the one who came out on top. 

Claire could sense that the energy between them was different the second Zane opened the door. “Come on up,” he said briskly, holding the door open for her and waving her inside. “If I read the manifest correctly, everything should be there. Spent all morning cracking the dang things open with a crowbar, so you won’t have to worry about that.” 

Claire narrowed her eyes at the squat, ugly man as she entered his house. For someone who had been dealing with his obnoxious flirtation for over a month, the difference was night and day. Zane’s tone was friendly, but not familiar. His body language was passive and relaxed instead of predatory. His eyes met hers without taking a moment to scan her body. He was treating her exactly how she expected any professional acquaintance to act. 

It was a little unnerving. 

The treatment continued as they made their way up the stairs. Normally, Zane would have insisted that Claire walk ahead of him and kept his eyes glued to her ass as she climbed. This time, he went first. 

He half turned as he made his way up the stairs, smiling as he asked, “Is this the usual number of house calls that you do for clients, or are you giving me special treatment?”

Aha! Here it is. He’s taking the chance to bring up last night. I knew he couldn’t resist teasing me. “Now why would I give any special treatment to a man like you?” said Claire challengingly, a defiant spark in her eyes, the little flame of antagonistic interest leaping up in her belly. 

Zane’s eyebrows wrinkled, a picture of innocent puzzlement. “Well,” he said with a little shrug, “Not to be rude, but I feel like I’m paying you a little bit more than this job is worth. I guess I’m just wondering if that comes with enhanced customer service.”

He paused at the top of the stairs, and Claire strode up to loom over him, her heart beating a rapid rhythm in her chest. She could feel her nipples stiffening against the cups of her bra as her body began to heat up. 

“And what sort of enhanced service were you expecting?” she asked in a smoky voice crackling with antagonistic heat. 

Zane stared up at her, his eyes blank and bland. There was absolutely none of the dangerous, confident, sexual swagger that Claire had come to see as his default state. He cocked his head at her. “Uhh, additional house calls? Are you feeling ok, Claire? It kind of seems like you aren’t following the conversation.” 

With a look of concern, he pushed past her and entered his bedroom, leaving Claire stunned, standing by herself on the landing. 

That little fucking asshole!

On one level, Claire understood that he was just upholding his agreement. Claire thought this had been what she wanted. Yesterday, it had felt like Zane leaving her alone during business meetings was the perfect solution to his bothersome pursuit. But today, with the filthy heat of last night’s sexual encounter still clinging to her, his ability to switch off his desire when Claire couldn’t felt… insulting. She had expected more of a half-hearted effort, with lingering glances and visible frustration painting Zane’s ugly face.

Claire found it hard to accept that acting like this was possible for Zane. He was a pervert. A beast of a man driven by his base instincts. Yet he had just completely and perfectly given her the cold shoulder, leaving her embarrassed and looking like an idiot. He shouldn’t be able to see a woman like Claire, who he wanted so badly, and just turn off his lust. 

Unless Zane was never as interested in me as it seemed.

The thought sent a chill through Claire. All of that talk about how much he wanted her. About how her panties would have been “the crown jewel of his collection”. Was it all just flattery? Had she been utterly fooled by a man, like some sort of naive teen tricked by an older predator? How else could an over-sexed creep like Zane be able to so easily ignore her after having her lips wrapped around his cock last night? After denying him her pussy?

Claire bit her lip until she nearly broke the skin. No. It’s not possible. I know what I saw from Zane this month. And especially last night. He wants me. He wants me so fucking bad that he would do anything. Which meant that he was just a good actor. 

But all actors had their limits. 

Working on instinct rather than thought, Claire reached down and unbuttoned the top button of her sensible work blouse, exposing just a hint of her tempting cleavage. As she did so, Claire looked down and realized with a shock exactly what she was wearing. 

Shit… What was I thinking, wearing this today?

Beneath the demure work clothes that she had on, Claire was wearing the fancy lingerie that Zane had sent her as a gift. She had been in sort of a sexual haze this morning as she dressed, thinking about Zane and their scheduled meeting today, and she must have just picked them out subconsciously. 

It actually gave Claire pause for a moment. What had she been preparing for subconsciously? Why would she wear this fancy lingerie to work if she didn’t have a sneaking expectation, somewhere deep in the back of her mind, that she might have an opportunity to show them to someone? 

For instance, someone I have a scheduled meeting with today…

Maybe she just needed to calm down… have a professional meeting today and sort through her tangled feelings and desires tonight over a glass of wine. 

But then she thought about Zane’s blank, mild eyes, looking completely calm and even bored while she roiled with volcanic lust and frustration. No. No, it isn’t fair. Zane has to be feeling the same powerful emotions that I am. He can’t pretend that the filthy, awful, mindbendingly erotic connection we made last night meant nothing. I won’t let him. 

She reached down and unbuttoned another button of her blouse, exposing a large “V” of her soft breasts and just the edge of her bra. There. Let’s see if Zane can act all cool and professional when he sees this!

She strode into Zane’s bedroom with a renewed sense of purpose. But Zane was a harder nut to crack than she thought. His eyes didn’t dip down to her cleavage at all as he gestured to the packing crates littering the floor of his bedroom, saying, “Well, here we have it. I have the packing list here as well. Shall we get started?”

Claire snatched the list from his hands with an annoyed glare, doing her best not to snap at him. Things didn’t get any better from there. This meeting with Zane wasn’t a thrilling game of sexual antagonism like they normally were. It was a dry, slightly boring chore of looking through boxes and making sure that all of the furniture and art was accounted for, matched the color and description of what Claire envisioned, and was ready for the contractors to come and begin work later in the week. 

Through the whole process, Zane was polite when speaking to Claire, but, insultingly, he seemed mostly disengaged, focusing on his phone rather than the task at hand. To be fair, there wasn’t exactly much for him to do except give his input when Claire asked for it, but his utter disinterest in her rubbed Claire the wrong way, making her more and more frustrated as the minutes wore on. 

Finally, they had reached the final box, and Claire was boiling with sexual frustration. Zane was treating her like just another one of his little whores… getting a blowjob from her one day, then tossing her away like a piece of garbage. But there was one more tactic that she had up her sleeve. Zane had always admired Claire’s firm, juicy ass. In fact, the first time she felt his cock, it had been pressed up against her butt. 

With a determination to beat Zane at his own game smoldering in her heart, Claire planted her legs a little wider than necessary as she stood above the final crate. Then she slowly bent at the waist, arching her back and pressing the perfect globes of her ass cheeks out, presenting them in all their glory. She knew Zane was directly behind her on the bed, and he was getting an eyeful that could give any man short of a corpse a raging hard on. She waited there, stirring the packing peanuts of the crate beneath her idly, swaying her perfect ass with small rhythmic movements of her thighs. 

Any second now, Zane is going to crack. He thinks he’s so smart, pretending that he doesn’t give a shit anymore. Acting all high and mighty. But in a moment, I'm going to feel his filthy hands gripping my hips again. Feel that thick cock press up against my ass. And I’ll prove that he can’t resist me, no matter what he promised. 

The time stretched out. Ten seconds. Thirty. Claire’s certainty waned. She risked a peek between her thighs. Zane was absorbed in his fucking phone, not even paying attention. 

Claire had to bite back a growl of rage. She plunged her hands into the crate in front of her, suddenly determined to get out of the house and head home to try her best to pull her thoughts together. But her hands closed around something that gave her pause. She lifted it out of the crate, her interest caught despite her current frustrating circumstances. 

It was a mannequin, or at least, a mannequin of a very specific part of a body. It represented a woman’s pelvic area, from the hips down to the upper thighs. The modeled legs were parted lightly, with a metal post coming down from each thigh to a base made of gleaming, polished wood. Claire had commissioned it herself, and it had turned out perfectly. It was a bit more anatomically correct than a model you might find in a department store, with the soft outline of lips between its ceramic thighs, and each ass cheek modelled separately. Embarrassingly, although it wasn’t modeled after Claire’s body directly (obviously), it was fairly close, proportionally speaking. Maybe an unconscious choice on the part of its designer. 

It was a place for Zane to showcase his “crown jewel”. The pair of panties that he was most proud to have won. 

Claire straightened and approached the bed, where Zane seemed to be wholly consumed by a text conversation. She held the lower torso out wordlessly, and after a moment, Zane lifted his eyes. For a second, he wore a look of mild annoyance at being interrupted, but when he saw what Claire was holding, his face broke into a broad grin, and he pulled it from her hands. 

“Incredible!” he said, his eyes glowing as he ran his hands over the presentation stand. “It’s perfect! I knew that you were the right woman for this job. You have an unmatched eye for aesthetics." 

His tone was sincere, and it was the first real enthusiasm Claire had heard from him all day. But there was still no heat there to answer the throbbing desire that Claire felt filling her to the brim. Foolishly, impulsively, Claire blurted out, “So… whose panties are going to be displayed on this? Who’s going to be the crown jewel of your collection?”

Claire wasn’t even sure what response she was expecting. For just a second, she thought she saw just a glimmer of that predatory cunning and amusement in the depths of Zane’s piggy eyes… Then he raised an eyebrow and said, “My my, Ms. Harrison. That’s an awfully personal question. If you must know, I’m saving it for a very special lady.”

Claire’s eyes flicked down to Zane’s crotch. Nothing. No bulge. He was calm, collected, and ice cold, while she could feel a buzzing, distracting heat burning between her thighs, and her nipples were twin points of throbbing heat pressed tight against the sexy bra this bastard had bought to taunt her. 

Something snapped inside Claire. She needed a response. Needed to prove to herself that she wasn’t just some gullible girl that Zane had tricked into a blowjob by pretending he was obsessed with her.    

She would do anything, including…

Option A: Zane was a man who thrived on conflict. If she opened up on him with some filthy, aggressive dirty talk, she was positive that it wouldn’t take long for his cool professionalism to crack. Getting nasty and insulting him verbally would needle him enough to arouse his dominant instincts and make him respond. Claire was sure of it. 

Option B: If there was one language that Zane understood, it was physicality. He had been handsy in the past when Claire acted disinterested… Why shouldn’t she return the favor? Let’s see how calm and collected Zane can act once Claire grabs his crotch!

Option C: Zane probably didn’t realize what lingerie Claire was wearing right now… so why not give him a little peek? If Claire stripped away her frumpy business clothes and showed Zane the sight of the sexy underwear he had bought her, there was no way he would just sit there with a faint, infuriating smile on his lips. It would be like waving a bloody steak in front of a tiger. Maybe Claire should remind Zane whose panties would really look best on that mannequin… not that he would ever win them, of course. 

How should Claire try to attract Zane’s attention?