Ramya: Reiker at dinner

Reiker arrives thirty minutes early. I’m fresh from the shower, hair damp, and throw on the dress before comically cracking the door. “One minute!”

He steps in with patient smile. I dart back to the bathroom sink to finish makeup.

He appears in the doorway behind me. “Wow,” I say, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “You look… worth every penny.”

The suit fits him like it was tailored yesterday, a crisp shirt, perfect tie, shoes polished. Pool Reiker was hot; suited Reiker is lethal.

He laughs at my joke, gaze dropping to my legs and the way the dress hugs my ass as I bend over the sink. “I understand the wives’ tension now,” he says, voice low. “You’re a smoke-show, Ramya.”

Heat floods my cheeks. “Thanks.”

He steps closer, and his hand lands with a light, firm smack on my right cheek. I yelp, laugh, clench as his palm lingers, feeling the muscle. Bold, but not crossing lines yet.

“You did not just spank me."

"I sure did. Hope the lady doesn’t mind.”

“She doesn't,” I grin.

I’m comfortable as he watches me finish hair and light makeup. Subtle red lips and loose waves of dark black hair over one shoulder. He offers small suggestions and knows his stuff. I joke that I hope he has daughters.

"One day," he smiles.

The thought of having this man’s babies hits me sudden and hard. I blush and refocus.

Conversation turns to reviewing our back-story.

I come out ready, Reiker waiting patiently on the suite sofa, drink in hand.

I’m wearing a fitted black cocktail dress (simple, elegant, knee-length). The fabric is thick enough to smooth everything, but the cut still follows my curves. My very large, naturally heavy breasts have good support, keeping the sag under control while letting them breathe and move naturally beneath the dress. The cleavage is modest, but with my size there’s no hiding the soft swell and gentle rise-and-fall when I breathe underneath.

The dress skims my toned waist and flares slightly over my hips, but the real statement is behind me: years of squats and deadlifts have sculpted a powerful ass that the fabric can’t quite conceal.

I'm at the very top of the bell curve for Indian genes for height, so I have an exotic aura already. Put me in a hot dress, and I'm going to turn a lot of heads.

I feel powerful, professional, and quietly sexy. Perfect armor for dinner with the executives and their wives. With Reiker on my arm, I’ll look like the woman who has everything under control, even if my heart is racing at the thought of what the rest of the night might bring.

“Well?” I ask, turning for him.

"Ms. Venkatesan, you look... dangerous. You're not just beautiful. You’re brilliant, driven, you will own the room. That’s why the wives get nervous. You’re the woman every man in the room wishes he was sitting next to."

"Thank you. What... What do you think? If it was just us on a normal date." It's a risky question. He's a pro. He's supposed to lift me up anyway.

He steps close, voice dropping. “Tonight I have what all the men will want. I’m already counting the minutes until this dinner is over.”

My heart skips. Then I laugh. "Oh my God, you're good. ”

"Worth every penny," he echoes. "Come on, let’s go make them jealous."

Dinner is a blast. Everyone is already happy because we've landed new business. The team loves Reiker, and our rock-solid back-story passes muster. It's like we've known each other for years. The whole time, I get looks of adoration from him, lots of complements to lift me up in front of my peers, and he has a reassuring hand on my thigh most of the meal. The wives act like my best friend now, batting eyes at my date as their husbands stand by oblivious.

I’m no longer the threat. I’m the woman who has it all. But it's just for one night.

What will I do with my paid help with I have him all to myself and nobody is watching?