The coffee machine beeped, signalling that his morning brew was ready. He walked into the kitchen, buttoning up his shirt slowly.
This room was full of secrets.
The naked women card set, hidden at the bottom of the cookie jar.
The playboy calendar on the inside of the cleaning cupboard.
The silk scarves hidden in the dishcloth drawer.
You never know when you might need to tie someone up..
His eyes drifted to the kitchen closet.
It was supposed to be a pantry, but someone had installed a coat rack rod.
It had been an enjoyable afternoon when he had tied Rayann to it.
Very sensual.
But not as sensual as the evenings he had spent with Brie..
She only came over after dark.
And she wore nothing but a trench coat and heels, a bottle of flavoured liquor in her hand.
Butter Ripple Schnapps.
Creme de menthe.
Funky Monkey.
Hot Sexx.
French Kiss.
Fire Ball.
She'd drizzle it over his chest and take her time licking it off.
They'd take turns.
And after a liqour and hormone filled night, she'd leave him with his whole body tingling.
The taste of the flavour filling his senses.
His still couldn't smell Fire Ball with getting a hard on...
And Sophie..
The artist..
Who had tied him to a kitchen chair and painted him with edible paint, made out of chocolate.
All of him.
And licked it off.
Over and over, until he was begging.
She'd have her way with him, finish him off with her mouth, and then leave him there, tied still.
It never took him long to get loose.
It was part of the fun.
He reached for a coffee cup and filled it up, smelling the brew appreciatively.
Nothing smelled better than fresh coffee..
Except maybe fresh cut flowers..
Beth.
Beth had worked at a flower shop.
She liked public places.
He'd had her in the flower cooler.
The back row of a movie theatre.
An elevator during the afternoon.
And against the lamp post outside his apartment, the first night he'd moved in here.
It had been the last time they'd seen each other, she was across town.
It had been raining, they'd been to dinner, and on the way home the lamp had flickered, and gone out.
And she'd pulled him against it, and whispered in his ear, and they had.
Hidden underneath their long trench coats, in the pouring rain, in the dark patch on the street, she'd lifted her skirt, and he'd undone his pants.
It had been like something out of the movies.
A perfect goodbye.
He sipped the coffee, his eyebrows raised.
Some day soon, he'd give Bones a perfect hello.