Longer fic snippet
The clip from before is probably going to be the end of this fic once it's done.
There'd been a few half-professional coffees, but this was their first proper date. And Harry'd been as slick at that as he was at everything else, casually mentioning a reservation at the exciting new restaurant being talked up in all the glossy magazines and now he needed to find someone else to go with, and wasn't Lucy mentioning her thoughts on the latest culinary trends? It would be ludicrous, clearly, for anyone else to join him. Tonight at eight, he'd send a car to fetch her, and it didn't seem as if she'd spoken a word, there didn't seem to have been time for her to have said yes or no, but it was obviously decided, clearly, it would be... it would be disobedient not to go all-out and make this a memorable evening.
And there was the bag.
He’d handed it to her as he’d taken her hand for a playful kiss; she hadn’t recognized the store logo on the glossy black paper. Inside had been lingerie; matching bra, knickers, and stockings in a shimmery-bronze silk, and a note: These would go wonderfully with the red number you wore to the office Christmas party.
It might as well have been an order, and Lucy’s nipples hardened painfully just reading it. She couldn't quite place it, but something about Harold Saxon made her want to blush and fidget, preferably with a sore bottom.
Still, she wasn't about to disobey, although she wrinkled her nose a little at the dress, which was spandex and a bit trashy, bought in a hurry for a party she hadn't meant to attend. It did slide smoothly over the silk underthings nicely, and she'd always looked good in red.
There'd been a few half-professional coffees, but this was their first proper date. And Harry'd been as slick at that as he was at everything else, casually mentioning a reservation at the exciting new restaurant being talked up in all the glossy magazines and now he needed to find someone else to go with, and wasn't Lucy mentioning her thoughts on the latest culinary trends? It would be ludicrous, clearly, for anyone else to join him. Tonight at eight, he'd send a car to fetch her, and it didn't seem as if she'd spoken a word, there didn't seem to have been time for her to have said yes or no, but it was obviously decided, clearly, it would be... it would be disobedient not to go all-out and make this a memorable evening.
And there was the bag.
He’d handed it to her as he’d taken her hand for a playful kiss; she hadn’t recognized the store logo on the glossy black paper. Inside had been lingerie; matching bra, knickers, and stockings in a shimmery-bronze silk, and a note: These would go wonderfully with the red number you wore to the office Christmas party.
It might as well have been an order, and Lucy’s nipples hardened painfully just reading it. She couldn't quite place it, but something about Harold Saxon made her want to blush and fidget, preferably with a sore bottom.
Still, she wasn't about to disobey, although she wrinkled her nose a little at the dress, which was spandex and a bit trashy, bought in a hurry for a party she hadn't meant to attend. It did slide smoothly over the silk underthings nicely, and she'd always looked good in red.