Eamonn’s tongue was deep inside Tara as she groaned heavily around his penis, the rumblings of another orgasm fluttering through the muscles of her stomach. They were both lying on their sides, totally wrapped in each other, a heavenly bond opening access to each other’s bodies as Eamonn’s hands stroked easily around Tara’s bum along her spine and back to explore her crevice, touching her anal opening lightly before increasing the speed of his tongue as it thrust into her vagina.

She lifted her head away as the first signals of her orgasm arriving tore through her clitoris and on through her core, causing her to cry out in ecstasy as she fought to gain release from Eamonn’s tongue, still manically thrusting inside her, tasting her and enjoying the feeling as her vaginal muscles pulsed around his tongue.

"Fuck, Eamonn," she wheezed as her head felt like it had almost disintegrated.

She leaned back as she sought to breathe oxygen into her lungs as Eamonn slowly rose from the position between her thighs in which he was ensconced. They both heard the sound of his phone signalling a text simultaneously. Eamonn's stomach lurched, unsure of whether it would be good or bad news. Tara looked at him knowingly and took his hand. He picked it up off the floor beside the bed and, reluctantly, hit the screen to display the messages.

It was a series of pictures of the contents of CC's bag. There were two other pictures of two documents, the NDA and the cover note from Halston. He handed the phone to Tara, and she read it with disgust and a sorrowful frown.

"Poor Darren," she said. "So Jasper is having them sign the NDAs in advance now? He must have had a scare."

"I know," Eamonn said, "but this note is weird, it's almost as though he knew that Darren would find it. It's almost taunting him whilst burying her in the process."

"I saw that," she said, "I mean, what does he gain by revealing his shaving fetish? It feels like somebody who wants to be caught."

"Well, let's not disappoint him," Eamonn said. "Where's the cunt tonight?"

"California, I believe," Tara said.

"What's over there?"

"I have no idea," she said, "all I know is that he flew out this evening about 5:00."

"So he's on a private jet," Eamonn said.

"How do you know that?"

"There aren't any scheduled transatlantic flights at 5:00 in the evening," he said, "I thought everybody knew that."

"I fucking didn't!" she said. "Honestly, Eamonn, you know the most diverse things."

"I also know that his mobile will work if we ring it, maybe we should force his plane to do a quick about-face," he said, "just to see if we can."

"I'd say he's about seven hours into the flight, would a private jet take that long to reach California? And wouldn't it have to refuel before it turned around that far into a flight?"

"You're such a beautiful know-all," he said and kissed her.

"Hand me my phone, please," she said.

He reached over the side of the bed and took her handbag off the floor, handing it to her with a smile.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"Watch and learn," she said. "Do me a favour and tell Darren to take the envelope out of CC's bag for safe keeping. Tell him to take her phone too, that might be a goldmine of discovery. Send me those pictures."

"Which ones?"

"All of them, it's time to wake Jasper fucking Halston up, but first I need to have a chat with someone."

She texted a number and sent the text in five seconds flat. She got a reply inside a minute. Eamonn looked at his watch. 1:07 in the morning, he was impressed. She then copied a number from the body of the text, pasted it into her phone and dialled the number as she put it on speaker. It took a few minutes before Eamonn heard a groggy female voice answer.

"Hello? Who's this?"

"Is that Samantha Brennan?" Tara said.

"Yes, who is this, please?"

"Tara O'Haverty from PWC, Samantha. I apologise for the late call, I hope I didn't wake you," she said.

"No, not at all, Ms. O'Haverty, what can I do for you?"

"Call me Tara, Samantha," she said, settling her down. "I have a favour to ask of you."

"Yes," Samantha said, as the giveaway sound of sheets rustling told them that she had been lying down and had just sat up suddenly, and a male voice could be heard grumbling in the background. "What do you need, Tara?"

"Is that your husband in bed beside you?" she asked quietly.

"Yes."

"It might be wise if you moved to a different room."

"Really? Ok, let me grab my slippers."

Eamonn mouthed the word 'slippers' and slapped himself on the forehead, as she shot him a look that said, "shut the fuck up."

"Take your time, there's no rush," Tara said, soothingly.

"I wonder if she's naked," Eamonn whispered. "Rookie mistake there, you should've Face Timed her."

"Shut up will you, for fuck's sake? She'll hear you."

"Sorry, I came downstairs to the kitchen," she said. "Now what's this favour you need from me?"

"I need you to do something for me that might sound a bit, ehm, unusual."

"I'm intrigued," she said.

"Well, I know that Jasper Halston is fucking you, Samantha."

"No, that's not ..."

"Samantha I have the evidence in my hand," she said, "you have nothing to fear from me because we can help each other."

"How?"

"I have further evidence that Jasper has already groomed another to take your place when he comes back from California."

"Who?"

"I'm not prepared to divulge that," Tara said. "I will tell you that she has finally satisfied his shaved pubis fetish after weeks of haranguing from Halston himself. You must remember what that looks like."

"Yes, I do."

"You know what happens next, don't you?"

"I get fired?" she asked.

"No, you get hounded out of the company and made to look incompetent and sex starved."

"Oh fuck. He promised me that I was the one," she said.

"That's what he tells everyone," Tara said, and she read him the note that Darren sent.

"That bastard! That fucking bastard!" Samantha wailed into the phone. "What'll I do? None of the others ever worked again and we've just bought a new house."

"It's simple," Tara said, "you come to work with me, I've always respected your skills and work ethic, so it's not a gamble for me. You'll earn at least 10% more with us too."

"Oh Tara, thank you," she cried. "That's why we all love you."

"I hope you’ll still love me when I tell you the cost of that, Samantha," she said, "I want you to supply me with a sworn affidavit in reference to your grooming and subsequent abuse as his concubine. You can swear that confidentially at your solicitor's office or we can bring you to our chief counsel in PWC at no cost or recriminations to you. The affidavit will be held by me until it is no longer required, and I will stand beside you as you burn the fucking thing out of existence."

There was silence on the phone as Samantha thought through the ramifications and the NDA that she had signed.

"What about the NDA I signed?" she said.

"It's illegal and therefore unenforceable. The very fact of its existence at all is enough to bury the evil cunt forever."

"But he said it was ironclad."

"Well, he would say that, but it was signed under duress and was designed to keep an illegal act secret. It can’t be admitted in court, and I know this because I have already defeated a few similar ones."

"Ok, can I have a few days to think about it?"

"We don't have that kind of time, Samantha," she said, "We can start you in PWC ten minutes after you submit your resignation to Halston Holdings. I would suggest, however that you resign with immediate effect and without notice and then take two weeks holiday somewhere that's warm. We can offer you Airbnb facilities in several countries at no cost to you. Sardinia is beautiful at this time of year."

"Ok, I'm in, Tara," she said, "I detest working where I'm being mentally undressed every minute of every day. I'm sick and tired of being on constant call to cater to that pervert's depraved sexual cravings and idiosyncrasies and I absolutely have had enough of the feeling of shame and embarrassment of being forced to strip in front of him every Monday so he can see that my cunt is freshly shaved and waxed to his satisfaction."

"Good. You've made the correct choice, Samantha. Can you meet me in my office at 9:30? I'll take you to see our Counsel myself. While you're there, we can work out where you'd like to holiday, and you can book flights from there too. I'll also accompany you to see Liam O'Dwyer when you tender your resignation. Us girls have to stick together."

"Thank you, Tara, you don't know what this means to me. When do I report for duty at PWC?"

"When you return from holiday, we'll get that nailed down, but it will be pretty much straight away."

"I'll be happy when I'm on that plane, Tara. Thank you so much, I owe you a lot."

"And a thousand other girls will owe you just as much in the future, Samantha. I'll see you at 9:30 sharp. Just tell our receptionist that you have an appointment with me, she'll show you where to go."

She hung up and sat back against the pillow, still holding Eamonn's hand.

"You did good, love," he said and lifted her hand to his lips.

"And so it begins, Eamonn. I need to make a plan of campaign so, unfortunately, we'll have to cut this visit short," she said.

"To be continued, but I want to talk to you later about what we're doing with this," he said.

"You've already got an inkling," she said, "our next move, after Samantha swears the affidavit, is to nibble Halston's bum."

"I'd love to do that, Tara," he said.

"You're going to have to join the queue, Eamonn, because I have reasons of my own to destroy this bastard," she said.

"I nearly feel sorry for the depraved cunt," he said, and he took her hand and led her to the shower.

"You'll need to make sure that Darren is in good shape, Eamonn," she said as they walked.

"I will."

She left an hour later, having time for one more fuck in the shower, a determined expression on her face. Eamonn retuned to bed, wiped out by the evening's carnal engagements. He slept fitfully and left the hotel at 6:30, unlocking the office doors ten minutes later, and switching the kettle on to make some tea and whatever he could scavenge out of the fridge and kitchen cabinets. His phone dinged a text from Darren.

"I'm on my way in, what time will you be there?"

"I'm already here, get a couple of breakfast sandwiches. Soft eggs.”

"CU in ten, put the kettle on."

"Any more orders?"

"Fuck off!"

He heard the rattle of keys in a lock and poured boiling water over the teabags in the mugs. Darren rushed in and threw a few breakfast rolls on the table.

"They had no sandwiches made yet," he said.

Eamonn picked one up and looked inside.

"My egg is hard," he said.

"Yeah, I don't give a fuck. Try one of the other ones."

They were either hard or nearly hard, so he settled for a softer one. He bit into it, savouring the relaxation of his stomach from the suffering caused by starvation. Darren threw CC's phone on the table, having opened it with their common PIN.

"What's this?" Eamonn asked.

"CC's phone," he said. "Check out her texts and WhatsApp messages."

"I will in a minute, sit down first and calm the fuck down."

"Did you not fucking read what I sent you last night?"

"I read everything at least twice, so did Tara," Eamonn said. "We need to think straight before we do anything, Darren."

"Yeah," he said, looking at him directly, "I know that look, do you have something in mind?"

"Yes, I do, but it's all Tara's idea," he said, "I told her I'm in and that you would be too."

"Tara?"

"Yes. Between the two of us, I think she's suffered at Halston's hands at some point."

"Tara has? Are you sure?"

"No, I'm going on instinct and what she did last night."

"What did she do?"

Eamonn told her about the call with Samantha and the plan that was about to start.

"9:30?" Darren asked.

"Yes, why?"

"We need to come up with a strategic plan," he said, his face calm and his voice cold. "I'd imagine that Samantha will be handing in her notice at around noon, what do you think?"

"Probably," Eamonn said, "what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that the police should be informed and that it would be awkward for Halston when that news breaks."

"But what's the point of that, Darren?"

"It'd get him back here quickly for a start, Eamonn, and I think Tara and you should meet him off the plane."

"Let him think we're playing both sides?"

"Possibly, but Tara can do her thing with him stepping down in favour of her," he said, "I'd need to refine it a bit more but that's a general first steps outline."

"He's not going to just hand us the reins, Darren. It's going to be an expensive proposition; are you flush at the moment?"

"I'm ok, relatively speaking, Eamonn. What would you think his number would be?"

"I haven't a breeze, but I know someone who might," he said, picking up his phone and walking out of the kitchen as he munched on his roll.

Darren opened CC's phone and accessed her WhatsApp messages. He found a text conversation between her and Halston that spanned two weeks. The first few texts were platitudes and declarations of love by Halston that she replied to with emojis and XX’s. He could sense the pressure that he brought to bear with his words and compliments. He came across a picture that he sent her of the bulge in his underpants with the words,

"I'm saving this for you, my darling."

She relied with an emoji of a girl blushing.

"Can I see what you're saving for me?" he said.

"Maybe tomorrow," she replied.

"I can't wait," was his reply.

There was a gap of a day or so before he contacted her again.

"I missed you yesterday."

"Sorry, I wasn't in the office."

"Did you not have time to send me my picture?"

She replied with a picture of her hips wearing a pair of green panties.

"Nice, can I see the back too?"

"My bum?"

"Yes, I like the cut of a ladies underwear, my love."

She replied with a picture of her bum wearing a normal pair of women's panties.

"Lovely, but do you not wear a G String?"

"Sometimes."

"You should switch to G Strings at all times, my angel. You have a perfect bum."

"My bum is my worst feature, Jasper."

"Let me be the judge of that. Change into a G String and send me pictures please."

"I'm at work! I don't have any with me."

"Send them to me this evening, it'll give me something to dream about."

Two hours later, she sent him two pictures of her wearing a red G String, the one Darren got for her as part of a Valentine's Day gift a few years before. He could see that it was taken in their bathroom at home, and he remembered that he had never seen her wearing them before. The next text from him was two days later.

"I'll be in my office later today, how about lunch on my sofa?"

"Ooh, what's for lunch?"

"I think you know."

"I'm afraid to guess."

"I need something to keep me going, how about a new picture?"

"What kind?"

"Oh, I'd love to be able to see your beautiful tits and cunt."

"Jasper!"

"Are you shocked? Or merely flattered?"

"A little of both."

A picture of his erect cock was sent next.

"I'll go first, care to jump in?"

"Oh my word, Jasper, you are such a terror."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, of course. It's a nice cock."

"Show me yours."

It took ten minutes for her pictures to arrive. One was of her tits as she held her sweater up to expose them to the camera as she stood in front of a mirror in, what Darren assumed was, the ladies bathroom at work. The second was a clear view of her tidy pubic bush.

"Oh yes, my darling. Beautiful."

"You like?"

"I love, but I don't enjoy pubic thatches. Will you remove it?"

"I'm not sure I could. My husband will notice and might ask questions."

"Tell him that some of the other girls got it done. That usually works."

"I'll trim it for now, maybe a landing strip?"

"Hair is unsanitary. You want to feel my tongue inside you?"

"Jesus! Yes."

"Lose the hair."

"Completely?"

"Yes, everywhere down there."

"I'll think about it."

"You'll have to have me for lunch instead."

"I can do that."

"1:30 my office. No panties unless you have a thong with you."

"You just got a picture of what I'm wearing. Will that do?"

"It's fantastic, but in future only white or black."

"Ok."

The next text from him was at 5:45 that same evening.

"Thank you for this day, my beautiful angel. I'm remembering this."

It was a picture of CC with her lips opening to accept his cock. A second and third showed his cock halfway and then fully ensconced in her mouth. A fourth showed her licking come off his tip.

"Jasper! When did you take those?"

"When you were swallowing my come. It was so sexy."

"Please delete them, someone could see them."

"I'll delete them when I have a picture of your shaved pussy."

"Didn't you enjoy looking at my landing strip?"

"No, it's a turnoff. If you want my cock inside you, it'll have to go."

"I'm not comfortable doing that."

"Shaving or fucking?"

"Both."

"Let me know when you are. I'll give you two days and then I move on. You aren't the only one, CC, but you could be."

Darren knew that he was looking at the death of his marriage in those pictures. There were further texts and pictures exchanged between them, but he was physically sick at what he had seen so far. He shivered as he thought of her with that slimy little dick in her mouth and how contented she looked as she licked his semen from his cock, the remainder obviously swallowed or still under her tongue.

"I fucking kissed that bitch last night," he thought, and smashed his fist through the plasterboard of the kitchen wall.

At that moment her phone rang. It was from someone called Hal JR. He automatically answered it.

"CC Clarke's phone," he said.

"Who's this please?"

"Darren, her husband. CC's not available right now, can I give her a message?"

"No, it's fine. I'll call back."

Eamonn arrived at the door as Darren placed the phone on the table.

"CC?" he asked.

"No, someone called Hal Junior?"

"What? Is that a joke name?"

"That's what the caller ID said, here look," he said, handing over the phone.

“That’s Halston, I’d bet my left ball on it,” he said.

He hit a few buttons and, writing down a serial number, pulled out his phone and pasted it into the search bar. A smile spread widely across his face.

"San Francisco," he said, "the cunt is in San Francisco."

"How do you know?"

"A call tracer, it's dead easy," he said, "this makes sense after the call I just got out of."

"Who did you call?" Darren asked.

"Do you remember Pat Rafter? He used work in Central Bank currencies?"

"No."

"He's one of the top dogs over in the City of London, now," he said, "Securities and Exchange. I called him to ask about the state of Halston's finances and, guess what?"

"What?"

"The cunt is broke. He was playing the Market and lost his bollox, that explains the emergency trip to California, he's looking for funding."

"Who'd give it to him over there?"

"That, my friend, is my next call," he said as he made another cup of tea.

He searched his vast telephone contact list for a few minutes as Darren wondered how many people that Eamonn actually knew. He punched the call button on his phone and crossed his fingers as he winked at Darren.

"Robbie," he said, "Eamonn Maxwell here. How are you?"

Darren could hear an indecipherable sound in reply.

"Good, good. I'm just looking for a bit of information that you might be able to assist with. A friend of ours flew out of Dublin somewhere between 5:00 and 6:00 last night, you can close that window to 5:30 if needs be. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me who's jet it was."

Another garbled reply.

"California, generally, but San Francisco in particular."

The voice spoke for a short time more.

"I thought as much, we had a bet on whether it was a PJ or a commercial Airline. I won."

He chatted a few minutes more and, with promises to go on the piss in the coming weeks, they hung up and Eamonn sat back with a wide grin and swallowed the rest of his tea in one satisfying go.

"What?" Darren asked, a grin on his face.

"It's nice to see you smile, kid. Halston flew out on PWC's jet," he said, "now if you'll excuse me, I have to call a certain nubile little lady to impart the good news so that she can begin to stir the pot."

He checked his watch; it was 8:55. He caught her in her office as she prepared for the meeting with Samantha.

"Hi," she said in a lilting voice, "I miss you already."

"Hi, babe," he said. "I have some news that might interest you."

"Are you pregnant?"

"No, I've just eaten two breakfast rolls. It just looks that way."

She laughed.

"Tell me your news," she said as she took a seat behind her desk.

"Well it appears that Mr. Halston hasn't got a pot to piss in," he said.

"Really?" she said with a grin. "However do you know that?"

"Oh, I have my methods," he said. "Even better, I was correct about that being a private jet last night."

"Well, good for you, may I offer my sincere contrafibularities," she said with a laugh.

"You still can't say that without laughing, can you?"

"Of course I can, I just fake it with you," she said.

"The laugh, I hope," he said.

"I'm still wet from last night, Eamonn," she said, "so yes, the laugh."

"How do I know you're not faking the not faking? Have you any proof you can provide?"

"You're not getting my wet knickers, Eamonn," she said, "you can fuck off this time."

"You can't blame a fellow for trying," he said, "but, after I tell you this next piece of news, you're gonna want me to come over there and slide those off you and dry you off with my tongue."

"Will you fucking stop?" she hissed. "Sarah could be eavesdropping."

"I wouldn't begrudge her the damp knickers," he said. "Speaking of which, the celebrated Mr. H flew out of here on PWC's jet and is now holed up in San Francisco while he waits for a funding meeting with them."

“Really," she said, switching her computer on and logging into the PWC calendar system. "Well, well, well, it seems that Mr. H has booked a half hour at three o'clock with a certain Pat O'Connor and, unfortunately for him, Pat is married to one of my very best friends. Do you think I should put a word in on his behalf?"

"I certainly would, given that Mr. H has been playing the Markets in a very amateurish fashion," Eamonn said. "I wouldn't be surprised if the word 'embezzlement' cropped up over the next few days. Oh! It just did. Is there any way of finding out how much he is looking to fund?"

"No, but if the meeting is with Pat, he'd be in the €4 - €8 million range."

"Maybe it's time to talk to Mr. H and sound him out," he said.

"Oh, I'm way ahead of you, Eamonn," she said.

"You probably are, but do you know that he is awake as we speak?"

"How the fuck do you know that?" she asked.

"Because he just called CC and Darren answered," he said, "it was a simple matter to ascertain his whereabouts from the tracking information the call generated."

"Well maybe I'll give him a sleepless night," she said. "Did you ask Darren if he's in?"

"Hang on," he said and then to Darren, "Darren, Tara wants to know if you're in or out."

"I'm definitely in," he said.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yes, that's brilliant," she said, "I'll get right on that. What time shall I expect you and your sophisticated tongue?"

"I'm free for lunch," he said, "I'll bring dessert."

"I'll bring dessert," she almost whispered, "I fancy a slice of medium rare tongue, myself."

"You're offal sexy you know," he said with a smile.

"New rule in this partnership, Mr. Maxwell," she said with a laugh, "no more stupid puns. Poor Darren, I don't know how he putts up with it every day."

"You just had to chip in with one didn't you," he said.

They hung up and Eamonn picked CC's phone up, to begin trawling through the WhatsApp conversation. His heart sunk and he seemed to descend into a form of depression. He copied the whole trail of texts and pasted them into a text to Tara, copying Darren on it also. He leaned forward and sat with his elbows on his knees, his head bent towards the floor. He felt for Darren and wiped a tear from his eye as his phone rang. He looked at it sorrowfully, it was Tara.

"I'm calling the police at 10:30, this is unconscionable," she said, "How's Darren?"

"Better than me, but he's had more time to level out."

"I'll let you know how I get on with Halston," she said, "it's time for him to pay his dues."

Eamonn got an idea. He called Darren into his office and shut the door.

"What if we leak that the police are on their way to Halston Holdings?"

"Why would we do that? What do we get out of it?"

"Think of it this way," he said, "he’s stuck in San Francisco, there's no rudder at the firm at present, unless you choose Liamo, they'd be like a flock of headless chickens. CC hasn't signed an NDA, has done nothing more than given someone a blowjob and is in the clear from any Halston fallout."

"I don't know, Eamonn," he said, "Halston won't give a fuck because he thinks he's bulletproof, and what are the police going to find? I guarantee you that any useful evidence is locked in a safe at his apartment."

"CC's wasn't," he said. "You just took it out of her bag."

"Yes, and that was a wise move, Eamonn," he said. "I'm going to divorce her; I can't even look at her after this. If she wants to stay at Halston's it's her choice."

"Not if we own it."

"Maybe a better move would be to have him arrested in San Francisco," Darren said, "there's a big movement against that over there and that would make headlines here that he can't control."

"Plus, it would mean he'd be really hungry for funds, forcing his hand on selling his interest in the firm."

"I'm not all that interested in Halston's as a going concern," Darren said, "it's been slipping for a few years now and their client list isn't all that impressive. Can we find out their annual earnings over costs?"

"It's publicly available online, Darren."

"Ok, will you check that out and we'll convene with Tara then?"

Samantha Brennan arrived at the reception desk in the lobby of PWC's impressive foyer overlooking the River Liffey. As she approached the reception desk, Tara was dialling Jasper Halston's number. He answered with a gruff response.

"What?"

"Good morning, Jasper," she said, trying to keep her voice even and light. "It's Tara O'Haverty here."

"I'm abroad, Tara."

"Yes, I know. San Francisco, I believe."

"How do you know that?"

"Darren Clarke told me, CC told him."

"She had no business ..."

"Jasper, shut the fuck up and listen for once in your life," she said, "I'm giving you five minutes and then I'm hanging up."

"Who do you think ..."

"Jasper, you'd better not come back to Dublin for a while."

"Why not?"

"You're fucked, that's why not. CC is going to press charges of sexual harassment against you, as is Darren along with other charges too. We have one of the other girls that you've been sexually abusing currently swearing an affidavit, so more charges will follow there, and I will be doing the same for gross sexual misconduct, abuse, and harassment. I'll also be reporting you to the Financial Ombudsman for irregular activities in the market along with embezzlement of client funds for use in a nefarious and noxious sexual and predatory lifestyle."

"I never abused you, Tara."

"Fuck you, you're a pig. I couldn't move ten feet in that office before you humiliated me by groping my genitals or pulling my blouse open and viciously grabbing my breasts in full view of everyone present. I was forced to leave my job and but for the good graces of PWC, God knows where I'd be today."

"There are NDAs in place, Tara."

"CC hasn't signed hers, I'll be giving that to the police and the Ombudsman this morning, along with the disgusting note you sent her and the full transcript of your filthy WhatsApp trail. Nobody else is in fear of them because they have outlived their usefulness."

"You wouldn't."

"I wouldn't have if not for Darren and Eamonn Maxwell, who tracked you down when you used the PWC jet. Oh, as a by the way, your appointment is cancelled, and use of the jet removed. You'll have to get your own flight home if you can still afford it, or you can walk. No need to thank me."

"Tara."

"One more thing, I sincerely hope that the media doesn't get hold of this. God knows how many aggrieved women will come out of the woodwork."

"Tara," she heard as she hung up the phone before composing herself and sitting down to greet Samantha with a smile and without a hair out of place.

CC's phone rang at 10:15. Darren picked it up and showed it to Eamonn. She was calling from home, obviously trying to find it. Eamonn nodded his head and Darren answered.

“Hi,” he said.

“Darren?”

“Yes, who did you expect?”

“I couldn’t find my phone, I was ringing it to hear where it was,” she said, confused.

“Yeah, I brought it to work, along with the envelope you had in the bag that you tried to sneak into the house last night.”

“Darren, nothing happened,” she said.

“CC, I saw the pictures of you blowing him and licking his cock clean. It looks smaller than the average cock doesn’t it? It’s almost only a finger.”

“Darren, that’s as far as it went.”

“I saw the pictures you sent him yesterday morning too. The ones of your shaved cunt, from every angle. Eamonn saw them too.”

“Oh no, you didn’t, Darren,” she said, “I can never look at him in the eye again.”

“You won’t have to.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re done, CC,” he said flatly.

“Darren, no,” she wailed.

“If I hadn’t asked you to come home early yesterday you would have fucked him, CC,” he said.

“No. I didn’t sign the NDA, that has to stand for something,” she said, as she broke down.

“I’ll get a hotel for a few days while you clear your stuff out of the house. I’d rather not see you again for a while,” he said.

“But I have nowhere to go, Darren.”

“You’re not my problem anymore. You have two days to clear out.”

He hung it up and switched it off as his tears flowed and his heart smashed into smithereens. Eamonn put his arms around him and hugged him close. He enjoyed the bond for a minute or so, then stepped back.

“I’m sorry, pal, but it’s for the best,” Eamonn said.

"I know," he said, "I really can't get those pictures out of my head."

"I'm going to call Liam," Eamonn said. "He needs to be informed that he has people to fire."

TBC.