Chapter Text
Rhys found himself looking at the clock every five minutes, counting down to lunchtime. Belle usually came at lunchtime, when the pawnshop was empty. That way, they didn’t have to worry about his customers walking in on a private conversation, or worse.
The moment she finally pranced into the shop, fifteen minutes past twelve, he had to take a deep breath to keep his heart under control because she was already looking at him that way, with her big, bright eyes full of expectations. She was curious. She had been curious ever since he called her to say he had something new to show her.
“Miss French, always on time,” he said, his voice pleasant and giving nothing of his own excitement away.
She smiled and practically leaned over the counter. “Mr. Gold, good afternoon. How’s your son?”
Rhys could have brushed that away and gone straight to business, as it was his usual way of dealing with people. Chitchat, as far as he was concerned, was a waste of time. Besides, he wanted nothing more than to see her face when she saw it. He was sure Belle would love it.
But then again, it was so much better when she asked for it.
“Can I have it now, Mr. Gold?”
God, those few words had haunted his mind ever since her last visit. Such a sweet voice. And yet, so pleading.
He decided that entertaining Belle with trivialities about Bae’s college life wouldn’t be the worse thing. In return, he asked about her fiance. Did she tell him about her, how did she put it? Her “secret identity” as a tester? No? Well, that was too bad. Had they set the date yet? Also no?
Out loud, he said, “What a pity.” Though he knew by now that she’d delay that marriage for as long as it was humanly possible. Or at least, that was his impression. Or his hopes.
She dropped her voice to a whisper. “What have you got for me this time?”
Was that flirtatious? Probably not. But he could twist it into a flirt, play with it in his mind.
Keeping his face as straight as he could, he took a long velvet box from under the counter and placed it in front of her. He had tied a red bow around the black velvet, just to add some drama to it. He had noticed that Belle appreciated that sort of thing, that it made her feel somehow special, as if he had been working not for Jefferson and the fat checks he presented him with, but to please her, in every sense of that word.
“This looks promising,” she said, pulling the long satin strip to untie the ribbon. It was unnecessary to do it so slowly, but she enjoyed the anticipation. Maybe he should put some thought into that the next time. Something to keep her waiting. Something pretty.
When she opened the box, her eyebrows shot up and a little smirk made way to the corner of her mouth. Amused, she said, “You know, when men give me flowers, it’s usually a dozen roses.”
“This is a rose.”
“Not a dozen, though.”
“Greedy.”
That brought a little color to her cheeks, but she laughed, far from being uncomfortable.
“This is beautiful,” she said, taking the new toy in her hands and trying its weight. Probably also thinking of the many ways she could put it to use, but if Rhys thought about that too hard, he wouldn’t be functional for the rest of the day.
Belle had been influencing his creations in one way or another for the past year, be it by submitting thorough reports, be it because he couldn’t think of any other woman using them but her. But this one was different. This he had made because she loved roses, and he wanted to give her a special one.
He had designed the rose on top of a long glass wand, molded to be as realistic as it could without making it uncomfortable. Its edges were round and the size was just right for her – or at least, that was what he concluded, judging by her previous feedback. Its diameter grew as it got closer to the base, but the head was still a little thicker than the rest. Should require a little effort, but once inside, it should fit her like a glove.
“This is absolutely beautiful,” she repeated, her eyes shining as she marveled at the glass rose. “I could keep it on my bed stand and Gaston would have no idea.”
Rhys thought of her fiance. He still had no idea what the young man looked like but, in his mind, he was a twenty something brute with a small dick and a stupid looking face that left no doubts about his stupid looking brain. The idiot would probably walk into her bedroom and comment on the weird figurine she bought somewhere. Belle would roll her eyes and brush it off as an impulsive buy at Ikea. If Gaston was the idiot she made him out to be, he’d believe her without a second thought. Then, all she’d have to do was wait for him to leave. Then she’d give that wand a proper try.
Would the waiting be as exciting as everything else? Possibly. Probably. He could almost picture her, listening to the idiot as he went on about his day, as self-absorbed as always. Meanwhile, her mind absently traveling back to her bedroom, where her rose awaited. By the time she kissed him goodnight and locked the door, she’d be more than eager. But she wouldn’t want to hurt herself now, would she? Better slow down, toy with herself first, get her body ready with nothing but her fingers, pushing them slowly inside, testing her own wetness. All the time, eyes firmly on that tall glass rose, standing over her on her bed stand. Towering over her, filling her mind with fantasies and making her impatient. When she finally wraps her slippery fingers around it, it still requires just a little bit of effort to get it inside, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep it interesting-
“You should get Jefferson to add that to the description.”
Rhys blinked and cleared his throat. Right. Jefferson. Think of Jefferson. That usually helped.
“What should we add?” he asked.
“Good for women with controlling fiances.”
“Yes. Yes. We should add that,” he nodded. “A very discreet toy. Is the weight right?”
“I think it’s perfect. Good size too. But I’ll get into that in my report. Although, as far as I’m concerned, this is ready to be marketed for aesthetics alone. You outdid yourself, Mr. Gold.”
Rhys tried not to smile too proudly, but failed miserably. “Thank you, my dear. It was a lot of work, but I believe it paid off.”
She giggled. “You should give your inventions a try some day. I feel like you’re left with all the work, and I get all the fun.”
He blinked at her, processing what she had just said. Then, he eyed the rather large glass dildo in her hands.
She thinks I’m a homosexual. Great.
Something must have shown on his face because her smile died and she rushed herself to say, “I’m sorry! Are you asexual? I didn’t mean to assume things.”
She thinks I don’t like sex. Even greater.
“I-” he started, not really sure what to say next.
Belle saved him the embarrassment by saying, “You know what, it’s none of my business. I’ve taken up enough of your time.” She placed the wand back inside the box carefully, and then shoved the box as fast as she could inside the oversized bag she always carried with her.
Rhys tried to think of something to say. Something that would portray him as very sexual, very straight and, preferably, very good in bed.
By the time he was done unfreezing his brain, she was already saying, “I’ll email you my report. As always. I, uhn, I’m sure it will be fun. Okay. Uhn. See you, Mr. Gold.”
She left the shop so fast he barely had time to say, “Yes, see you, Miss French. Bye. Have a good day. Give my regards to your fiance.”
The door closed before that last one was fully out of his mouth.
Thank god.
Rhys waited for her to vanish on the other side of the window before banging his glass against the glass counter.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
I’m straight, actually. That would have been a great reply. No offense taken. No looking like a perfect moron having a stroke.
In fact, I’m very straight.
Very, very straight.
Let me prove it to you by taking you out for dinner.
Or to the back of the shop so we can give this rose a proper try.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot!
The glass on the counter was starting to rattle dangerously, so he forced himself to stop and lie there quietly for a few seconds, hating himself.
Though he had no idea what Gaston would sound like, it was his voice that crept up into his mind to whisper, “Who’s the one with the stupid looking brain now?”