“Put your things in there. It’s the guest room.” He eyes the holdall she is carrying. “Is that all you have?”

“Yes. Max had them pick up some of my things, but I couldn’t carry much from the hotel.”

“Give me your keys and your address. Tell me what you want. Make a list. I’ll pick it up for you.”

She jots down…

… For the long term…

… Never going back…

… Clothes and personal items, a box she keeps containing bank books, tax records and similar, her client records and diaries, a few precious books. A cookie jar she uses for handy cash.

Frank scans the list. “Sure that’s all?”

“It’s fine. I won’t stay with you longer than I have to.”

*****

“I’ve brought back what I could, Mitch, but I couldn’t find all of it.” Frank dumps a suitcase containing clothes by the bed, then another. Your books are still in the car, but I couldn’t put hands on those records you were talking about. Or the cash.”

Wide-eyed, she chews a lip. “But… but they must be there…”

“Weren’t. I looked high and low. They’re not in there.”

She looks at her feet. “The police must have taken them.” She swipes a hand through her hair. “Never mind. I’ll go to the bank. Draw out some cash.”

“There’s one just down the road. I’ll drive you.”

*****

“What do you mean? I can’t have it? It’s my money. That’s my ID there…” Mitch pushes her driving licence under the counter at the teller.

“I’m sorry madam, but the account is locked. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Let me talk to the manager.”

“I’ll see if he’s available, but these matters are handled by headquarters.”

*****

“Any luck?” Frank pushes a mug to her. “It’s peppermint tea. I know you like it. I got some in for you.”

“Thank you.” Subdued, she sips. “No. No luck. All they would say is that my account is frozen.” She raises liquid green eyes. “What am I going to do? I’ve no money…”

He sits by her, lays a hand on her thigh. “You’ll get it back when it goes through the courts, Mitch.”

“Frank, don’t you see? I don’t dare do that. Someone is trying to frame me. Someone has framed me. Someone with police connections. My lawyer’s already been murdered. What kind of people d’you think these are?”

His voice is flippant. “You can earn more money, Mitch.”

He doesn’t believe her…

Not really…

Not deep down…

“How? I can't show my face. Frank, I’ve got to get away from here.” Pressing fingers to her forehead, “Christ, I’m painted into a corner. I’ve no money. I can’t work. If I moved away, I’ve nothing for a down-payment on a new place…”

“Hey, Mitch. Calm down.” He tightens his hold on the thigh. “You’ve got me. Stay as long as you want.”

“Frank, I can’t pay rent or housekeeping or anything…”

He smacks a kiss onto her forehead. “Don’t worry about that. There’s more than one way of paying rent isn’t there?” She turns to meet him full in the face. “And besides…” He waggles a finger at the silver butterfly hanging around her neck. “… You’re still wearing it. So, Larry or no Larry, you must like me, eh?” He slips an arm right around her, curving around spine and ribs to settle on a breast, giving it a squeeze. “What d’you say?”

What choice does she have?

Slumping, eyes brimming, Mitch turns to look the other way. Slowly, and for the first time in her life, feeling like a whore, “Alright, Frank. I’ll stay.”

*****

James

Rain lashes sideways onto the windows.

Roll on Spring.

Is this blasted weather never going to end?

But I’m warm and comfortable; naked next to my dozing Jade-Eyes, her body heat percolating to me. And beyond her…

Where’s Michael?

Got up early…?

howls a complaint, rattling glass and the lashing of

Sleet?

would he get up

Much better here…

I hear the

red hair lying next to

How is she now?

Over the shock?

least dealing with

an experimental stroke over the curve of a shoulder. She

does look much

I follow it through along a smooth,

on me. The

“Good morning. Slept well?”

“I did yes.”

the line of her jaw with a thumbnail. And, how are you? How are you

up a little more. She palms my hand into hers, pulling it to her mouth, kissing the fingers. “I'll live.”

stabs through me and

Georgie…

the smile onto my face; keep my

Jade…

back

Beyond rubies…

shoulders and neck, running into my hair. The sensation skitters over me, popping nerve-endings down to my groin, stiffening my

would you like,

shoulders I draw her close, nestling her to my chest. Sweeping away a tide of copper hair, I draw my hand over one lovely breast, thumbing at the rosy nipple; perking it up as she sighs beside me. “I would like

and teething hard enough to spike a little pain through her. The breath rattles from her lips, her hips quivering

Her beautiful submission…

“Open your legs.”

she does so. Spreading herself, feet flat to the blankets, her hips raised in the way she

no hurry.

I smooth over the swell of first one, then the other breast. Heading south, I brush over creamy-pale skin and her taut, flat belly to tangle fingertips in the fiery curls at her

eyes are fluttering

“Look at me, Charlotte.”

as a tropical forest,

find myself entranced by her face. Stroking her one-handedly through the crease of hip and thigh, the softest and most sensitive of skin, my merest touch and movement brings her response. Using a fingernail, I draw a tracery over her skin, watching as her lips part

“Look at me…”

more, but her milky skin is flushing; a tide of rose flushing over breast and neck, pinpoints of colour on her

warm labia, my finger pads vibrate with the quiver that echoes through her flesh. An impulse tells me to probe, to open her, but I resist it, waiting for the petals to unfold of

delicate skin of her inner thighs, then back again. My fingertips are growing wet, and as I continue, she heats and unfurls. And all the while, I lock my eyes with

demanding action. Pressing myself against her, the firm muscle of her thigh quakes against my groin,

Soon…

… but not yet…

my palm over her entrance, she’s flowing freely now, and I penetrate

throat. Again,

“Look at me.”

her breath coming in short spurts, breasts vibrating with her heartbeat, matching my

her inside, spiralling within, stretching

finger and another, splaying my fingers. Her moans grow urgent, then turn to wails

is a-tremble… “Master,

“You can’t come yet.”

lips peel back, air whistling through her

a change of

her hands free of the bars, swing her around. Shifting the pillow to support her head, I tug her forward until her hips overhang the mattress edge, I kneel, slip fingers through her folds to open her, then

against cream, the puffy flesh glistening. Mouthing at her thighs, I lap away the

She convulses: ‘Oh, God….”

come yet.” Then I pump her again

straining forward,

yourself.” Opening her

makes a vee. “Taste of? I

her again, I recoat index and middle fingers in her juices, then offer them back to her

sucks, eyelids dropping a little in thought. “It’s a little acid. Citrussy perhaps, But

And that’s what I taste when I drink from your pussy, which is what I’m going to

increases and her head drops

wider. You can rest on my shoulders.” Her weight presses through the soles and as I drop my mouth to her entrance, she shudders. Quickly I speak again. “You may

try, Master.” But

try. If you come before I give you

shudder runs through her again, but she lapses into silence save for the sound

far to

her into

Let’s see…

a towel slung around his hips. He raises a finger to his lips as, taking a seat, hands folded on

curving as her pelvis rises. But I pin her, a hand pressed hard inside each thigh, fixing her position as she tries

salty piquant taste and the slight resistance of her flesh

You may

“Master… I can’t…”

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