Can I prompt? Hayffie do it against the penthouse window! Please!

A Bossy Kink

His escort's voice assaulted him as soon as he walked back into the penthouse that afternoon and he groaned, already tired of whatever rant she was going to throw his way. Because there was no mistaking that tone, she was ranting – raving even.

"There is nothing to discuss." she snapped. "Do it however way you wish but those pictures are not to see the light of day."

Weird topic.

He wavered between making a discreet retreat or investigate what was going on now. There was a touch of anxiety under the steel of her voice that spelled troubles. And he wasn't sure who she was talking to. For all he knew, someone was blackmailing her and she was alone with them right now – it had happened before after all.

With a sigh and a mental curse for his morals that had no place in this city, he silently made his way to the living-room. She was on the phone, standing near the bay window, and she barely tossed him a glance over her shoulder.

He was annoyed by the dismissal and so he went straight to the liquor cart, pretending that it was what he had been after in the first place.

"I do not care." she hissed. "Do you know how many lawyers there are in this city, Mr Dalish? Do you know how many of them would be desperate to work for me?" There was a moment of silence on her part and then she made a face. "You might be a friend of my father but I assure you my father do not handle my business, Mr Dalish. Now, the matter is simple. I spent a lifetime cultivating the Effie Trinket brand, it is certainly not to see it brought down by a bathing suit advertisement contract and a bad photograph. I do not approve of those pictures and thus it is your responsibility to see that they never see the light of day. I pay you enough for you to do something from time to time, I believe."

Haymitch smirked, taking his glass of whiskey to the couch. He didn't sit down though, he leaned against the back of the sofa and watched her tear that poor lawyer to shreds. It shouldn't have been that funny really but… When her ire wasn't directed at him, he couldn't help but find it… hot.

Well… He did find it hot when it was directed at him too.

He sipped from his glass of whiskey, shamelessly letting his eyes travel over her body. He wasn't sure he liked her outfit but, then again, most of the time he was certain he hated them so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. She was wearing a long pencil skirt that ended bellow her knee with brown geometrical patterns on it, a cream silk long-sleeves blouse with a large neckline that puffed on her right collarbone and a strap of black leather wrapped several time around her waist as a belt. The towering high heels were cream and shiny. The wig on her head was tied in a voluminous French twist and it took him a few seconds to settle on a name for the color. It almost had a metallic tint to it, it wasn't entirely pink but it wasn't champagne either. It was pink gold. The whole thing looked more severe than what she usually went for, weirdly professional. But if she was dealing with modeling business, it wasn't that surprising.

She was an escort full time but he knew she occasionally modeled the rest of the year, not only on catwalks but for pictures too. He had seen a few over the years. She usually tried to separate the two jobs when the Games were in session but she had been forced to deal with some personal stuff during the Games before.

Twelve had been out for three days at this point so it didn't bother him much that she would take care of her other job.

"Are you serious?" she scoffed with an outraged sort of disbelief. "Do you know I just fired my agent, Mr Dalish? Do you know how long I have been trusting her to take care of my image? She made an unforgivable mistake that might very well sign the end of my career and she paid for it. Do not think for one second I will hesitate to fire you too."

Haymitch's eyes fell on the black smooth folder on the coffee table and he gave in to his curiosity. She wasn't even looking at him anyway, she was watching the city through the bay window. He placed his glass down and grabbed it, quickly skimming through the pictures inside.

They were terrible.

And given that he knew what she looked like in her underwear, he really didn't how the photographer could have done such a terrible job with bathing suits. Worse, most of them seemed to have been retouched and it wasn't subtle or for the best. Her mouth was weirdly shaped, as if they had tried to make her lips bigger, her breasts were larger than normal too – although he figured they might have used padding during the shoot – her shoulders looked too broad…

He wasn't surprised she had started chopping heads over that. He was surprised the bloodshed wasn't literal.

"Do not dare tell me I am exaggerating!" she warned, raising her voice a little. "Have you seen those pictures? Why are we even debating this? You represent me and I have made my position clear: I do not want them released. Make it happen. It does not matter if my stupid agent forgot to include a right to have the last say in the contract. I always insist on such a clause. Surely, you can do something. Do note, I am not asking here. I am ordering you to fix this mess."

Haymitch tossed the folder on the couch and inched closer to her, licking his lips.

There was something to watching her tear someone apart with the sheer power of her tongue. It always made him… Well, it made him hard.

He placed both hands on the bay windows on either side of her, caging her in. She didn't seem to mind because she leaned back against him, pressing her ass against his groin in a very deliberate way. The stilettos made their high difference almost irrelevant so he just had to bow his head a little to nuzzle the neckline of the blouse out of the way. He dropped open-mouthed kisses on her shoulder, slowly moving his lips up her neck until she tilted her head to the side to give him better access.

"Are you deaf or utterly unable to understand what I am saying?" she scowled and the barely there growl in her voice made him lose all sense of control. He nipped at her flesh, smirking against her skin at her short intake of breath. Not that it prevented her from continuing her dressing-down. "I do not think I am mistaken when I say I am one of your biggest clients, Mr Dalish. I promise you if you do not work this out, I will replace you."

He guided her free hand to the glass and waited until she was bracing herself before pulling her skirt up. That was the advantage of having the last floor of the Center – along with having the exclusive access to the roof – it was the highest skyscraper for miles and nobody could see what they were up to.

The pencil skirt wouldn't go past her thighs and he grumbled under his breath until she wedged the phone between her cheek and shoulder and deftly unwrapped the leather straps belt. He got the gist and quickly got rid of the belt to find the zipper hidden on her hip. The skirt was so tight it took some struggling before he managed to slip it down her legs.

"I do not want to sue them for monetary compensations." she snapped. "Sue whoever you like but get those pictures off the table. Tell them I would be willing to redo the photoshoot if they find a competent photograph."

He sneaked a hand under her blouse and the other between her thighs, bumping his foot against her stiletto so she would spread her legs a little. She was biting own on her bottom lip now and she was completely leaning against him.

"What I expect?" she huffed. "I expect you do to what I demand."

He kissed the patch of skin under her jaw, moving his mouth to her ear. "You're so hot when you're kicking ass, Princess…"

Her lips twitched but her face soon hardened. "I do not care! Do something and call me back. If those pictures are released, they will not be the only one I will drag to court, I promise you!"

She hung up and tossed the phone in the vague direction of a nearby table. He had no clue if it landed there or fell on the floor because she had turned around and was now kissing him. Hard. He pinned her against the window, already working on getting rid of her blouse.

In a matter of seconds, she had his pants undone, his underwear around his thighs and her fingers firmly wrapped around his length.

"You always complain about me being bossy but I do believe it is a kind of yours." she purred.

"As long as I'm not the one you're bossing around…" he snorted.

Her blue eyes were twinkling in amusement. "Is that so?"

He bowed to capture a nipple in his mouth. There was nothing he liked best than the sight of her completely naked with high heels on. Well… He did like her in kinky lingerie too. And totally naked, complete with no wig and make-up. He also liked her a lot on her knees. And on her back. And on…

"Fuck me, Haymitch." she ordered.

A shiver rolled down his spine.

That wasn't the kind of bossing around he minded. Truth be told, he didn't mind that one at all.