Authors: Lisette Ashton
‘This is not the greeting I was anticipating,’ Faye said sharply. ‘What’s been going on here, Wendy? Where’s John?’
Wendy shook her head. ‘John left,’ she stammered. ‘His replacement had been –’
‘Replacement?’ Faye broke in. ‘This is all news to me. When did all this happen? And who’s this replacement?’ She paused, glancing into the shadows where the redhead was looking. ‘And why is that woman standing naked and trying to hide behind the reception desk?’
‘Come here, Poppy,’ Wendy murmured.
‘Poppy from the Knight Brothers,’ Faye gasped. She studied the woman with an incredulous expression as Poppy stepped out of the shadows and moved closer to them.
Poppy seemed unembarrassed by her nudity and, although she did not hold herself with a confident or arrogant posture, there was something about her poise that showed she was not ashamed.
Faye’s gaze was fixed on the woman’s naked body, her salacious smile making her thoughts transparently obvious. ‘I never thought you’d look so good naked,’ Faye observed. She frowned slightly as she caught sight of a handful of bruises on Poppy’s bare body. ‘Who made those?’
‘That’s what I’ve been wanting to tell you,’ Wendy began softly.
‘The Black Widow made these marks,’ Poppy whispered. To give emphasis to the marks she was referring to, she stroked the tips of her fingers against her bruised nipples. The subtle friction caused the buds to stand prouder as they all watched.
Faye frowned. ‘Excuse me? The Black Widow?’
Wendy closed her eyes, wishing that Poppy would leave her to do the explaining. ‘That’s the nickname we have for –’
‘Sky,’ Poppy interrupted. ‘Sky Meadows is the Black Widow.’
Faye’s face was caught in a frown as dark as thunder. ‘Sky Meadows is here?’
Wendy put a hand over her face, wishing she could be somewhere else.
‘Where?’ Faye demanded. ‘Where is she?’
With her eyes closed, Wendy heard Poppy answer. Unperturbed by Faye’s mounting anger, Poppy said that Sky was in the storeroom.
‘The storeroom! The storeroom in the east wing?’
When sensed the blow coming before it struck. Though the pain was not as harsh as the blows Sky administered, the failure it implied was far more agonising.
‘The storeroom was supposed to be private,’ Faye breathed angrily.
Wendy sniffed back a sob, wishing she could dare to look at the woman.
‘Follow me, Sam,’ Faye snapped. ‘We have business to attend to.’
‘Where are you going?’ Wendy asked. Without realising she was doing it, she had reached up and grabbed hold of Faye’s arm.
The woman glared down at her with a disparaging frown. ‘I’m going to the storeroom,’ she hissed. ‘That is, I’m going there if you’ll let go of my arm.’
Wendy shook her head. ‘But you can’t,’ she implored her. The thought of what might happen if Faye and Sky came face to face was unthinkable. The two women were so powerfully dominant that Wendy could not picture the pair of them in the same room. Faye was in a thunderously foul mood and unfit to deal with anyone in a civil manner. If Sky had already made the inevitable discovery of the storeroom’s secret, Wendy knew that her temper would be just as vitriolic. She did not dare think what sort of explosion would happen if the two women met.
Unable to stop her, she watched Faye shake herself free. With purposeful strides, she was leading her red-haired companion towards the east wing.
Unhappily, Wendy followed.
* * *
Sky stroked the silver tip of the cane down Malcolm’s chest. The razor-sharp end grazed his flesh, not quite breaking it but leaving a dark-red line in its wake. Jo watched the woman grin, as though she was proud of her handiwork.
‘We have a lot of catching up to do,’ Sky whispered. ‘I’ve got to return a lot of suffering and unhappiness. The only consolation is that I’ll get an awful lot of pleasure from doing it.’ She knelt down in front of him and moved her mouth quickly over the end of his length.
Malcolm stiffened in his chair.
From her position by the wall, Jo could see Sky’s lips stretching to accommodate him. As she watched, she saw the woman pressing her teeth against the swollen end of his shaft.
Malcolm groaned. He thrashed his head frenziedly as his body was treated to the subtle touch of Sky’s tongue and the painful pressure of her biting. Soft sounds of distress ebbed from beneath the gag and he stared hopefully at Jo, as though she might be able to help him.
‘Don’t look at her,’ Sky muttered, moving her lips away from his cock and guiding his face with one hand. ‘Watch me while I do this,’ she insisted. ‘You wouldn’t want to miss something if I took things too far, now would you?’
His attention was suddenly riveted to her.
Sky stood up and took a step away from him. She tested the silver-tipped cane through the air. It whistled harshly as it cut air and her smile broadened appreciatively.
Staring at the instrument, Jo tried not to think of the damage the silver tip could cause if it connected with naked flesh. The blow of an ordinary cane could be cruel and punishing. The bitter memory of canings she had received were enough to make her sympathise with Malcolm’s predicament.
‘Are you ready to start suffering, Malcolm?’ Sky asked.
‘I don’t think that would be a wise idea,’ Faye Meadows said firmly.
Jo watched the woman stride into the room, march directly up to Sky and snatch the cane from her hand.
Disarmed, Jo half-expected the Black Widow to back down, but that was not what happened. Instead, Sky slapped her open palm against Faye’s cheek. The retort echoed in the confines of the storeroom. Her handprint was left on the woman’s face when she moved her fingers away.
By way of retaliation, Faye raised the cane high and prepared to deliver a vicious blow.
‘Wait!’ Jo was surprised to hear Sam’s voice. She turned to the doorway and saw her partner flanked by Wendy and Poppy. Hurrying into the room, Sam took the cane from Faye’s hand and hurled it across the floor. ‘I’m not going to stand by and watch you two beat one another senseless,’ Sam told them both. ‘There are things happening her that need to be resolved and this isn’t the way to do it.’
Jo frowned. She noticed Sam was wearing a short skirt and beneath her raincoat she appeared to be topless. A hundred reasons occurred to Jo as to why Sam might be dressed like this, and she tried not to succumb to the flaring coals of jealously that the images inspired.
Faye and Sky were glowering at one another with a passion so fierce it made the air between them crackle. ‘I’ve already decided I’m going to punish him,’ Sky whispered. ‘I can do it just as well once I’ve taken care of this bitch.’
‘You’ll get hurt trying,’ Faye retorted.
‘If you two start fighting, I’m going to go and call the police. They can sort the pair of you out and you can finish the fight in a shared cell.’
For an agonising moment, the room was held in a frozen tableau. Faye towered over Sky, glowering threateningly. Sky met her gaze with venomous defiance, clearly prepared to meet any challenge the woman made. Strapped to the chair, almost lost in the shadow of the two women, Malcolm shifted his gaze from Faye to Sky.
Sam started at the two women, her poker face showing no sign that her threat might have been an idle one.
Pragmatically, Jo wondered if Faye would still pay their fee if she was languishing in a prison cell. She decided this was definitely not the time to ask such a question.
Turning to Jo, Sam said, ‘Can you get us all a drink, so we can sit down and discuss this rationally?’ Her calm tone of voice seemed ludicrously out of place in the tense confines of the storeroom.
Jo shook her head. ‘I’ve quit drinking,’ she replied with a short smile. She was gratified to see Sam’s lips purse into a frown of disapproval. ‘But for this instance, I’ll make an exception,’ Jo said quickly. She reached into the pocket of her dressing-grown and pulled out her replenished hip flask. Without bothering to take a sip for herself, she handed the flask to Faye, who then passed it to Sam.
Sam took a brief drink and offered the flask to Sky.
‘I’m not touching that,’ the Black Widow growled. She glared at Faye and told Sam, ‘She’s been touching it.’
Sam pushed the flask into Sky’s hand, her green eyes flashing angrily. ‘You’ll take a drink, you’ll be civil, and you’ll start discussing things properly.’
‘Or else?’ Sky ventured.
Sam’s smile was terse. ‘Or else, you’ll do your talking with the police, and when they see the damage you’ve inflicted around here you’ll have a lot more to worry about than some woman who stole your husband.’
‘You’re bluffing,’ Sky growled.
‘Try me,’ Sam suggested. ‘I can see what you’ve been up to just by looking at the bruises on these poor bastards.’ She nodded her head towards Poppy and Wendy. ‘The police could have you for assault and illegal imprisonment.’ Behind her, Faye Meadows started to snigger and Sam whirled on her. ‘And if I drop her in it, I’ll drop you in it too. Insurance fraud is just as illegal.’
Jo raised her eyebrows, surprised by the control Sam was exercising. She did not know how Sam had managed to find out so much about the case and she still felt unclear on some points, but none of that mattered for the moment. She watched Faye and Sky studying one another with animosity and realised that Sam had cowed the pair of them.
* * *
The discussions took the rest of the night and Jo decided that calling them fraught was one hell of an understatement. The threat of violence was omni-present and she had to physically intercede on two occasions to stop Faye and Sky from clawing at one another. However, she had to concede that Sam’s negotiating skills were incredible and the fiery redhead eventually managed to get the two women talking in sentences that were not simply barbaric threats. Once Sam had explained the situation to the two women, and the options that they had left, the rest of the negotiation was a simple matter of getting them to reluctantly agree.
‘So how soon did you have it figured out?’ Jo asked, teasing the buttons open on Sam’s raincoat. They were back in her room, making use of the oversized bed she had christened with Allen. Dawn was edging over the horizon and shards of pale sunlight were creeping into the bedroom through the flimsy curtains. She was weary. Her eyes felt dry and desperate to sleep but Sam’s nearness had worked its usual magical spell on her. ‘Come on,’ Jo encouraged, catching a glimpse of bare flesh as she released another button. ‘Tell me when you first had it figured out.’
Lying back on the bed, Sam laughed as Jo undressed her. ‘I had it figured out from day one,’ she said arrogantly. ‘As soon as I heard the name “Elysian Fields”, I knew what was happening.’
Jo suppressed the rising irritation that Sam’s arrogance inspired. She thought she had heard the murmur of an untruth in the back of Sam’s words but she ignored the temptation to challenge her. Jo was desperate to enjoy the sight of Sam’s nudity and the thought of having an argument first did not appeal to her. When she had first heard the name of the health farm, she had assumed that Elysian was a shade of green. It was a thought she was not going to share with Sam. However, she was caught between showing her ignorance and giving in to the needs of her curiosity. Eventually, as she pulled the raincoat from Sam’s shoulders, her inquisitiveness won over.
‘So what does “Elysian Fields” means? I can see you’re bursting to show off all the benefits of your finishing-school education.’ She managed to say the words without giving away the true depth of her arousal. Sam’s bare chest was always an exhilarating sight. The enticing mounds of her breasts invariably inflamed the embers of Jo’s passion. The dark-red circles of her areolae were lightly wrinkled, but Jo knew the flesh would smooth out beneath the caress of her fingertip. Testing the theory, she watched Sam’s nipple stiffen.
At the same moment, Sam caught a breath of excitement. She made herself comfortable on the bed as she was touched, teasing a hand inside Jo’s robe. Her fingers went to the smooth flesh of Jo’s sides, then worked their way up to the gently yielding contours of her breasts.
Simultaneously, the women, sighed. ‘Sky had the original idea for this place,’ Sam explained. ‘But Malcolm stole it from her and also stole all the money they had, just before he disappeared in his supposedly fatal accident.’
Jo was pressing warm kisses against the soft flesh of Sam’s neck. Her lips brushed against the sensitive skin in a series of delicate kisses that sent shivers running though the redhead’s body. Jo could feel the gentle tremor of Sam’s mounting excitement and she realised the quickening pulse of her own arousal was marking the same tempo. Her need to touch and hold Sam was a burning fever. ‘I’d gleaned that Malcolm wasn’t dead,’ Jo remarked dryly, working the words around a kiss on Sam’s shoulder. But –’
‘But Malcolm wasn’t dead,’ Sam went on, ignoring the interruption. She was pretending to be unmoved by the kisses that Jo was delivering. Her laboured breathing inflected her words with a huskiness that gave away her true feelings. ‘Faye found herself engaged to a man who was pretending to be dead. He was doing it to cheat Sky and defraud an insurance company. Faye’s a fairly law-abiding sort, so she wasn’t best pleased.’
Moving her lips lower, Jo made a sound that was meant to indicate agreement. She traced her tongue down to the rise of Sam’s small breast, allowing it to move close to the swell of her nipple. Knowing that Sam was enjoying her ministrations. Jo deliberately moved her mouth away and fixed her with a curious smile. ‘So Faye had nothing to do with the insurance fraud?’
Sam was obviously disappointed that Jo had stopped kissing her but she hid her annoyance well. After exercising an uneasy smile, she explained, ‘Faye didn’t want to but she had no other option. Malcolm had bequeathed his estate and the insurance money to her, cutting Sky completely out of his will. But it order to get those benefits his death had to look realistic and Faye had to go along with the insurance claim. She’s not really Mrs Meadows, by the way. She just adopted that name after the reading of the will.’
Jo nodded. ‘You’ll pardon me for saying this, but I think she could have been feeding you some bullshit there. Faye doesn’t look like the sort who would just “go along” with plans that she’s not a hundred per cent behind.’