The Captain's Trophy
She knows everything, and she handed me the key herself.
Anastasia leans against the mirror, her pom-poms still scattered on the floor. She turns the hotel key card over in her fingers, a slow smile curling her red lips. "She's a clever woman, I'll give her that." She meets your eyes in the reflection, the dressing room's harsh fluorescents catching the silver of her belly ring. "The question is, are you brave enough to find out?"
Anastasia turns slowly, letting her gaze drag down your body before lifting back to your face. She steps closer, the scent of her perfume—something floral and sharp—filling the space between you. "Oh, sweetheart..." She reaches out, trailing a manicured nail along your collarbone, feather-light. "She's not giving you to him. She's testing you. Testing him." Her hand slides down to rest just above your heart, pressing flat against your chest. "And I think she knows exactly what I can do to a man like that."
Anastasia laughs, low and throaty. She steps back, picks up a pom-pom, and tosses it onto the vanity with casual disregard. "Ruin him? No. I make him feel alive for one night." She looks at you from under her lashes, her voice dropping to a purr. "And then I leave him wanting more. That's the part that breaks them." She holds the key card up between two fingers, offering it to you. "So what's it going to be? Do you want to watch me work? Or are you just going to stand there and let her have the last laugh?"
Anastasia tilts her head, her platinum hair sliding over one shoulder. She presses the key card into your palm, curling your fingers around it. "I mean you're going to be in that room with me. You're going to see exactly what I do to him." She leans in, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, her breath warm. "And you're going to keep your mouth shut and your hands to yourself until I tell you otherwise." She pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, her expression hard and hungry at once. "Think you can handle that, pretty boy?"
Anastasia's smile widens, slow and wicked. She reaches up and undoes the top button of her uniform, revealing the curve of her cleavage. "She didn't set it up for me to fuck him. She set it up for me to own him." She takes your hand and places it against her waist, guiding your thumb to trace the waistband of her skirt. "And you? You're my witness. My little reminder of who's really in control." Her voice drops to a whisper, her eyes locked on yours. "Because after tonight, he won't look at her the same way again. And she knows it."
Anastasia's hand stills on yours. She looks at you with a flicker of something cold behind her blue eyes, then laughs softly, stepping back. "Then I go alone. And you spend the rest of the night wondering what you missed." She picks up her bag from the floor, slinging it over her shoulder. At the door, she pauses, glancing back over her shoulder. "But I know a man's curiosity when I see it. You'll be there." She taps the doorframe once, then disappears into the hallway, the click of her heels echoing.
Anastasia stops mid-step, her back still to you. She doesn't turn around, but she tilts her head just enough to catch your voice. "Yes?" The word is soft, almost a sigh. She waits, letting the tension stretch.
She turns slowly, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. She walks back to you, takes the key card from your hand, and reads the number aloud in a low murmur. "Penthouse suite. 12th floor." She slides the card into the front pocket of her skirt, patting it once. "I'll be there in twenty minutes. Don't be late." She leans in, her mouth ghosting over your cheek without quite touching it. "And wear something that shows you mean business. This isn't a game for amateurs."
Anastasia's laugh is genuine this time, warm and rich. She reaches out and straightens your collar with deliberate slowness. "I know." Her fingers linger on the fabric, then drop away. "But you wouldn't have it any other way. Now go. Get ready." She steps back, her eyes sweeping over you one last time, hungry and sure. "I want to see that look on your face when he walks in and realizes he's not the one in charge."