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Chapter 72

Five Years Ago - Chad

The phone rings and the receptionist answers. “Hello? Vincenzo and Partners.”

“Hi, it’s Chad Bennett here. I wanted a word with Mr Vincenzo. Is he there?”

“Oh, Mr Bennett. I’m sorry, but Mr Vincenzo is not available….” The receptionist’s voice chokes. “There

was a car accident. His brakes failed. He was killed.”

*****

James

She kneels, looking down. Naked, her long hair swinging, she is the very image of the perfect sub.

“At the end of that first week,” she says, “I told you that you would always be my Master. That hasn't

changed.”

Despite myself, my lips quirk. “Is that right? There to do my bidding and obey me, no matter what?”

She looks up at me, then away again, spots of pink on her cheekbones. “I… disobeyed you. Master.

And I’m so sorry for….”

I lift her chin with a finger. “You're not really a sub. You’re no Beth. The two of you are not remotely the

same. And when it comes down to it, I wouldn’t want that. You are what you are: loyal, disobedient

when it suits you, brave, rash, intelligent, and quite frankly, half-loco sometimes, but mine.”

She swallows. “I’m never sure if I’m pleasing you, Master. Or Michael.”

I sigh. “Michael and I are also two very different people. I want control. He wants security. I’m not sure if

you’re capable of giving either of us what he thinks he wants.”

She stiffens. “Master? What are you saying?”

Her eyes are glossing. “Shhh….” Inside, I curse myself as I think how my words must have sounded to

her. I lean forward, cupping her chin then kissing her. “Nothing alarming. Just that sometimes what we

think we want is not what we learn we really want.”

She relaxes again, and I lean back into my seat, but as I move, pain stabs through me, and

involuntarily, I wince.

“Master are you hurting?”

I bite down on the gnawing in my thigh. “Not too much.”

“Tell me how you would like me. How you would be comfortable.”

“Lie on the bed, on your stomach. Raise your hips a little.”

She grins. “Am I going to end up with a glowing ass, Master?”

“I suppose that’s always a possibility.” I wink at her, but in fact, I simply want to hold my Green-Eyes. To

feel her warmth, scent her skin and her hair.

She rises smoothly from her kneeling position then goes through to the bedroom, but at first does not

lie down. Instead, she kneels again on the mattress, hands on her knees, watching me as I remove

cuff-links, unbutton my shirt, unbelt and, with difficulty, step out of my trousers. Again, I clench my teeth

to avoid flinching as the pain, bright and sharp, shimmers through muscle and bone. I think I have

fooled her. Her smile remains clear and keen.

And as I am naked, my erection rising against the discomfort, she smiles again, turns and flips over to

present me with her lovely rear, creamy-pale and perfect. Her face pressed side-long against the

comforter, she watches me, opening her knees as I ease myself into position behind her.

Don’t screw it up….

Keeping my injured leg as straight as I can, I slide across her, my cock nuzzling into the crease

between her buttocks. I’m a little high for penetration, but just now, I want….

I nuzzle into her hair, encircling her with my arms to cup her breasts, heavy, warm and soft in my

palms. Nibbling at the delicate skin at the nape of her neck and curving to her shoulder, I love the

shudder that passes from her to me and her long slow sigh which morphs into a quiet moan….

…. and sends the blood rushing to my groin….

I have missed this, so much….

My Jade-Eyes and I, we don’t need words to express our feelings. We both know and understand what

lies between us. But the language of the physical, that is important.

I was always conscious that I am so much older than her, and I allowed for that; planned for what time

must bring. But I had never considered the possibility of disablement so early. Of finding myself, only

yet in middle-age, unable to make love to my Jade.

Her skin is scented and fragrant. Not exactly sweet, but musky and uniquely her. The perfume

pervades her long hair, and as I open my mouth over her, I taste her.

Her body dances for me, her arousal blooming and beautiful. But as I move, the pain spears from thigh

to groin and without meaning to, I grunt, my reflexes hijacked.

“Master?”

“It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not. You’re in pain.”

“Charlotte….”

“Don’t Charlotte me. You’re hurting, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“A little, yes, but I've wanted so much to be able to make love to you again.”

I want to protest, to shift again to take her, but once more the pain stabs at me and my erection

subsides.

She slides out from under me. “And you think I don’t? Lie back. Let me do the work. Make Love with

me. We’ll do it together.”

And she tries….

How she tries….

But the impulse is gone and after a while, frustrated, I simply gather her in my arms and we lie together

in the quiet.

*****

Four Years Ago

It stinks of second-hand booze and disinfectant. A couple of drunks are hauled away in handcuffs while

a woman in an overall mops up what they just deposited on the tiled floor. In the waiting area, a man in

a three-piece-suit flicks through notes and files, checking his watch impatiently. A girl with cheap

clothes and a black-eye tries to control the screaming baby she looks barely old enough to call her

own.

Thin-faced and with pale flat eyes and nondescript sandy hair, the police officer looks bored and pissed

off.

Natalie is bored and pissed off.

“When can I go? I’ve got a living to earn you know.”

“Don’t we all, Natalie. You know the routine.” The police officer picks up a clipboard, riffling through the

pages. “You can go when we’ve settled this, not before.” He finds the sheet he is looking for, pins it

open with an elastic band, then sits, pencil poised. “He says you stole his wallet.”

The girl slumps in her seat, pouting. “Did not.”

“He says you did. He says you took the wallet, emptied the cash and threw it away.”novelbin

“Yeah… right…. He said he wanted to party, so we partied. Then he doesn't want to pay. I just wanted

what he owed me. I took thirty out and put the wallet back in his pocket.”

“So, you picked his pocket?”

Natalie colours up. The officer waits, then with an air of patience wearing thin, says “Right now Natalie,

you're facing counts of theft, soliciting and….” He checks the notepad again…. “Resisting arrest. That's

a minimum sixty days lock-up.”

Her face is sick and sour. “Din’t do nothin’. Like you'd give me the benefit of the doubt when he’s got a

pricy suit and an uptown accent.”

The officer leans back in his chair, tapping his teeth with the end of his pencil. “It’s small stuff, Natalie.

Maybe your john tried to roll you. Maybe not. How helpful are you feeling?”

She tosses her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Good things can happen for those who help the police with their enquiries.”

“What do you want?” Her voice is sulky. What choice does she have?

The cop pushes a photo under her nose. “Have you seen this girl?”

“Nah, don’t know her.” Natalie doesn’t even look.

He insists. “Sixty days minimum, Natalie. Perhaps you were mistaken. Take another look.” He pushes

the photo at her again. “She'd be new into the City. Only arrived in the last few months. She’ll not know

her way around.”

This time Natalie looks properly, reaching with a finger to trace the outline of a face.

Then, her face a blank, “Nope. Still don’t know her. Who is she anyway?”

“Jennifer Bennett. Or she could be calling herself Conners. A runaway. We think she’s getting caught

up with the grifters and the pushers. Might even be with you girls. We want to pull her in before she

gets herself involved in anything serious.”

“That right?” Natalie sniffs, looks at the photo once more then taps a long chipped nail on it. “A girl that

looks like that, you’re at the wrong end of town. If you think she’s working it, you want to try the swanky

shops up the West-End. You know, where the heavy-wallet brigade hangs out. That’s where she’d

make the real money.”

The cop considers this, tapping his teeth again with the pencil. “That's a good thought, Natalie. A very

good thought.” He plucks the sheet from the clipboard. “I'll talk to your client, have a stiff word with him

about paying his bills.” He tears up the sheet, tossing the pieces in the bin. “You see, good things can

happen when you're helpful.”

*****

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