Masters And Lovers 1-4 novel Chapter 64

*****

Al arrives home to find his wife waiting in the hallway with a suitcase. “Eve? Where are you going?”

Her voice is almost conversational. “I’m leaving.”

Slack-faced, he stares at her. “Leaving? What do you mean?”

“What part of the word don’t you understand, Al? Leaving. As in going away and not coming back. I’m only here now because I’m waiting for a taxi. I’m picking Shelley up from school. Then I’m going.”

Panicked now, “Why? What’s wrong? What’s happened…?”

For reply, she stabs a finger towards a letter on the telephone table. Headed in red. ‘Notice of Repossession’. “I couldn’t have stayed much longer anyway. None of us could. They’re taking the house, Al. And you didn’t even have the decency to tell me.”

Wild-eyed, he snatches up the letter. “No. It’s a mistake. I just need to catch up a little. I’m nearly there….”

Her mouth pinched, “Oh, give me a break will you. I’ve seen the rest of it too….” Eve huffs a laugh that has nothing to do with humour…. “…. or at least as much as I could find. You’re going to need new locks on your desk.”

The hoot of a car horn comes from outside. “There’s my taxi. Bye, Al. Have a good life, whatever you decide to do with it.”

She turns, opens the door and makes for the cab waiting out on the road.

“Eve…. Wait. Please… At least tell me where you’re going.”

“I’m staying with my sister to start with. I’ll take it from there when I figure what to do next.”

“What about Shelley? The boys?”

“Shelley’s going with me. As for Stephen and David, they’re old enough to make up their own minds. I asked them, and they said they want to stay with you. They’re both earning now, so I suppose they can help you with the rent wherever you end up.” She turns away, stepping into the taxi.

“Eve…” He calls after her, but the car pulls away and disappears around the corner.

It’s barely been five minutes since he arrived home.

Bleakly, unbelievingly, he goes inside. In the lounge he finds his desk, the drawers prised open. A hammer and chisel lie on the carpet, surrounded by a scatter of veneer and wood chips. On top of the desk is the sheaf of letters he has been hiding….

Demand for Payment….

…. Final Notice….

…. Court Order….

Five minutes later, David comes in. “Dad? Are you alright?”

Stephen follows him in. “We’ll manage, Dad. We’ll sort something out. And when we’ve done that, we’ll get Mom to come back. You’ll see.”

But neither of them likes seeing the tears on their father’s cheeks.

*****

Charlotte

I pour myself a glass of wine. I don’t generally drink during the day, but I’m jittery.

“Charlotte are you alright?” It is my Master, watching me from the doorway of the kitchen.

“Yes, I’m fine, just a bit nervous I suppose, wondering what Beth is going to learn.” Holding up the bottle, “Would you like some?”

“I will yes.” He moves to stand beside me as I pour another glass. “You shouldn’t be nervous. Whatever Beth comes back with, will tell us something.”

“What if they still won’t talk to her?”

He lays his hand on my arm. “Then there will be another way of finding your mother.” His skin is cool on mine. He casts a sharp look down to where he touches me, then his eyes rise again, soft on me. “You are nervous….” The palm of his hand slides over my arm….

Testing me…?

“…. You shouldn’t be,” he says. “But I do understand how much this means to you.” He takes one of the glasses, presses it into my hand. “Drink some of your wine.” He takes the other, sipping at it, all the while, watching me.

I can’t help it. I’m trembling and with the glass in my hand, magnifying the movement, he can’t miss it. “You need to relax,” he says.

He takes the glass from me, putting it down along with his own, then his hands on my shoulders, he draws me in, his lips brushing over mine teasing them apart.

Sweet and cool with the wine, his mouth captures mine. The kiss is slow and sensual and speaks of everything which lies between us.

He turns me, stands behind me, but the kiss continues, his breath warm as he nibbles and mouths the soft curve of shoulder to neck.

Fingers trace a line from the top of my spine, up and into my hair. “Bend forward,” he murmurs. His voice is slow and chocolaty and the lightest pressure between my shoulders pushes me forward and down. A tingle shivers down my spine, warming me inside.

His body lowers with mine, his face close by my cheek. “Ankles wide,” he whispers. “Grip the counter with your fingers.”

My throat is tight and I'm growing warm and liquid as I ease my feet apart. But his shoe nudges at my ankles, opening me further.

The hand at the back of my head slips along my spine then down over the curve of my hip and further. Fingers trace my outline through my skirt until, as they drop to the hem, they flip inside, flicking the skirt up and over my hips, displaying my pantied ass.

The fingers roam, gliding to my inner thighs, stroking down to my knees and up again....

“You smell of arousal,” whispers my Master, his voice all honey and curling smoke. I'm quivering, longing for the fingers to rise further, but they don't, simply painting lazy spirals on soft sensitive skin….

My Master, the man who can bring me to my knees with a look.

“Please.” My voice trembles.

“Please, what? This?”

A single finger rises to trace my panty line, the nail digging in, so slightly, to the skin of my thighs. Where cotton meets skin, the finger traces a circuit sending sensation sizzling to my core.

I’m still trembling, but not from nervousness any more….

My panties are wet. My clit throbs. I want him.

“Please….”

“All in good time. Remember who is Master here.”