“Here you go, boss.”
Julia sipped carefully at the extra-smooth bourbon, then downed the rest in one.
Coming back up from her latest explosion of coughing, she wiped her face with the damp bar towel Dari handed her next. Wiping her sore p***y afterward, she saw through clearing blear that hogtied BJ had somehow squirmed out of his corner. A dozen feet nearer than where she’d left him, he gazed gagged across the dimness, projecting the same concerned solicitousness as his fellow maid. Strangely ashamed, Super-b***h looked away.
“Thank you Darianne. Help me onto the love seat please.”
“Here comes the tea.”
The kid got her comfortable then dashed off to intercept Alfred again. After handing over the cup, she gave the still trembling mistress a tentative touch.
“Do you want talk, ma’am?
