Buying The Virgin Part 1-3 novel Chapter 136

MICHAEL

James pulls at his chin. “Does Charlotte know about all this?”

“I’ve not gone into details…. She knows I’m doing something, but I think she’s trying not to think about it too hard right now…. Listen, one other possibility does occur to me, about Klempner’s motives. He changed his mind when it was pointed out to him that he was retaliating against someone who was completely innocent of what had happened. Even if taking Charlotte from her mother as a baby was part of his reprisals, her mother wouldn’t know anything about everything that’s happened since…. What kind of revenge is that?”

“So…?”

“So, Charlotte wants to know about her mother, probably to find her, and Klempner knows that. He’s in prison for God-knows-how-long. Suppose he intends to simply sit tight, and let Charlotte do his work for him, track her down? With everyone trying to help her because she’s the long-lost daughter, rather than the psycho she’s hiding from?”

“And then pick up where he left off? Sheesh…. that’s an uncomfortable thought…. you think he’s mad enough for that?”

“Yup. In fact, ‘mad’ is an interesting way of putting it. I’m told by Will Stanton that he may not end up in prison at all. He’s got doctors arguing that he’s psychotic, criminally insane; and lawyers on both sides saying he should be locked up for the good of the rest of the human race, but in a secure hospital. Personally, I think he’s just an evil bastard.

“So, we go for it? Try to get back to a normal life, but remain vigilant?”

“Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty? Yes, I think that’s about it….”

*****

CHARLOTTE

I’m sitting in the lounge, reading, keeping my Master company. Michael is on the phone, chasing up on-going work in our mountain home renovation.

Glancing up, my Master’s eyes are on me. His injured leg outstretched from his armchair, nonetheless, he looks relaxed and comfortable. Chin resting on his fist, he watches me.

I know that look….

Smiling, “How are you now, Master? Feeling better?”

“Better? Yes, you could say I’m feeling better.” His deep, satin voice is slow and measured, and there is no mistaking his intent.

I put down my book, kneel by him. His hand brushes my cheek.

“What would you like, Master?”

Leaning forward and down, he kisses me but winces slightly with the movement.

“Just sit comfortably, Master. I’ll come up to you.”

I stand, to perch myself on the chair arm, twisting around to allow him to kiss me, and to have my breasts within easy reach for him. I’ve been waiting for this moment, and for the last few days, have made a point of wearing blouses that either unbutton rather easily or which have long laces, to dangle invitingly.

A pair of these now hang by my Master’s hands. He smiles, knowing exactly what I am doing; happy to play the game. Running a finger along my face, down over my lips and neck, he drops towards my slightly exposed cleavage and the trailing laces.

As he tugs at them, his eyes slide up to meet mine, warm with desire.

Michael, entering silently, sits by us on the couch, hands behind his head, watching. The laces unravel, and as my blouse falls open, I lean in closer, bringing my breasts close enough to feel the warm wash of my Master’s breath.

He inhales deeply. “God, you smell good….”

“Would you like to go into the bedroom, Master? I think it would be easier for you in there.”

“Mmm… yes.”

As he moves to stand, Michael offers him a hand up, but he brushes him away irritably. Michael backs off, palms upright. “Sorry. Only trying to help.”

“You’re right.” says my Master, apologetically. “I’m not dealing with this very well, am I?”

Stiff legged, he rises, limping through to the bedroom.

“Would you be more comfortable standing Master? Then you don’t have to bend your leg too much.”

He’s embarrassed….