By now I had Caroline’s full attention. I could have asked her to secure me a water bed in my holding cell and she could have returned with a bed strong and comfortable enough to accommodate a wanton Duke with twelve mistresses in one seating.
“These are delicious Caroline. You sure know how to touch a man’s soul.” I was masacring the delicious apple pies with a ferocity of four generations of hungry gods. I had no doubt my chewing could be heard three blocks away, which is why I was looking at Sherriff McKenzie while at it. If he gripped that pistol by his side any harder, it was going to blow off, lock or no lock in place.
“You were talking about enemies,” Caroline checked the last of her notes as she subtly prompted me to continue with my statement. She was a curious one.
“I was saying, you need to decide your position before facing someone because that will determine whether you’ll be playing defence or offense with them.” I said. She scribbled away.
She really didn’t need to write any of the shit I was saying now but I got the distinct feeling she was taking this down for the benefit of her secret book club and not so much the state.
” It’s always better to have the other person respond to you than you respond to their energy, no matter what that energy is,” I continued. “It gives you the upper hand because you’re not allowing their energy to drive your responses and reactions.”
“And if they too are determined to maintain their position?” Sweet Caroline asked.
“Then decide right there and then if they’re your enemy or friend. Either way, keep them closer. They’re a worthy adversary… Friend or fiend.”
“How can a friend be an adversary?”
The Sherriff made an uncomfortable sound with his throat but just as I suspected, he was too chicken to say anything else. Caroline made a show of completely ignoring him, as if forgetting for a moment that he was responsible for her chèque at the end of the month.
“If you have no such friends, then you’re the enemy. Their enemy. You just dont know it. Only, now you know.”
She looked like she was thinking about it for a moment and then she nodded her head. Whatever conversation she had just had with her mind, they seemed to have come to a decision. “I think I do now, thank you.” She gave me a grateful look with her big curious eyes. “Back to Chaminey,” she said. “Was she your friend or your enemy? And what happened after she drugged you and took you to her house?”
Oooh my sweet sweet girl Chaminey. Just the mention of her name and I’m back there in that room, three years ago.
There was an anger radiating from her positively glacial eyes that told me she wanted me dead. She thirsted for my blood and yearned to yank the living daylights out of me with a pleasure that could only rival the things I wished to do to her naked. And when she leaned closer, the little hairs of her perfectly sun-kissed skin lightly ghosting over me, she set off a cascade of sensation through my body, completely robbing me of breath.
I could smell her hunger. She wanted me, and it was killing her that she could be in such dire need of a man such as me. A guttural growl escaped her throat and she quickly pulled back. It was a raw feral growl that almost drove me to the very brink of surrender before she could even lay her hands on me. She could have commanded me to reap my chest open with my bare hands and pull out my heart for her and I would have done so with animated pleasure.
I could hear her mumble a barrel of curses even with her back now turned to me, giving me a full view of her quintessential hourglass figure. I was fluent in three languages, but Chaminey was fluent in cursing, so much so she faced no language barrier whatsoever whenever she went off. She was dressed in a little black dress that left very little to the imagination, with pretty red boots that covered three-quarters of her fine-fine legs. She had her hair tied at the center of her head in a messy bun that conjured up images of what it would feel and look like after my hands had been through it.
There was very little I could do from where I was was, my nearly five foot ten frame was laying flat on its back, my arms and legs spread wide to meet the silk knots holding me in place on the huge mahogany bed which in another world would have borne witness to the sealing of our matrimonial bliss.
“Do it,” I taunted her.
She faced me again, razor sharp eyes and that feral look that always threatened to undo me. “Do what?” she spat, her voice a raspy sound that promised forbidden pleasures even to the most chaste of saints.
To the untrained eye, Chaminey was a happy go lucky woman who had very little trust in men. She had been let down so many times that over the years she had mastered the art of self-containment. I never believed in love. Neither did she. But since meeting her, I found myself on a mission to make her a believer. To make her believe in the one thing I had never ever believed in myself.
Without knowing it, she had made me a believer and I was desperate to bring her on my side. Chaminey had a certain happiness about her that made those around her envious. She made life seem so easy, as if she had everything figured out while the rest of us could barely get our bearings right. She was way too easy going it was infuriatingly breathtaking sometimes to watch her surrender herself to the wind. Dance in the rain and lift her legs off the ground, trusting that the universe would hold her steady and that her faith would eventually gravitate her back to the ground.
But my girl was more than that. Hidden behind that easy smile and those flirtatious hips were skills that would send the most dangerous of men running for cover. What the rest of the world saw as uninhibited happiness, I knew without doubt it was pain, excruating pain. The happier she made herself appear, the more pain she was masking. I knew it because where her heart used to be is where mine now resided. It was easy to feel her every emotion and keep her secrets safe, even the ones she didn’t know she had. I might have appeared before her under false pretenses, but that was the past.
“Take me, whichever way you like,” I said. “I can see it in your eyes. You want me, and if you don’t have me, you’ll die from the sheer frustration of wanting something so badly that you can almost taste the desire on your tongue. Face it, that desire far outweighs the need to be rid of me eternally. Feed it.”
She appeared reticent for a moment. She swallowed hard, her ample bosom heaving in spades as her nipples threatened to shoot through the stretched fabric of her dress. Despite being bound, I still had that much power over her. Good. I still had a fighting chance.
“You would let me? Why?” She was visibly perplexed, understandably so.
“Because I’m familiar with your hunger,” I said. “And if I’m gonna be dead in a bit, might as well go down on a high. Don’t you think?”
“This isn’t about you. It’s about what I want.” I believed her.
“Oh, but I know my dear. And how fortunate for me that you’re the sort of woman who derives pleasure from watching me completely unravel under your touch.”
This was the part where she was supposed to tell me I was wrong but she looked so dizzy with lust there was probably a river flowing between her legs. My own lasvicious thoughts had me fighting the urge to writhe unceremoniously on the bed from the ferocity of unquenched concupiscence. I wanted her under me as soon as yesterday, begging me to make her pussy bleed cum.
” It’s there again, in your eyes, ” I motioned to them with my head. Not the easiest thing to do for a man in my position. This was a new experience for me, one I would have fought against tooth and nail before. But there was nothing ordinary about this situation or the woman who had me bound both physically and emotionally.
“So what?” She retorted, her voice heavy and halting. “I am not foolish enough to pretend I have no weaknesses. Yes, I want you.” She was looking straight into my eyes as she said that. For the first time since I came to and realized exactly where I was, I felt exposed. It was she who had just shed a layer off her guard yet there I was feeling like I had just given her a glimpse into my soul.
“I love you.” The words came out before I could stop them.
“Bullshit!” She screamed, thumping one booted foot against the wooden floor. For a petite woman, she had the sheer force about her of at least four wounded lionesses. I couldn’t blame her for not trusting me. Even I wouldn’t believe me if our roles were reversed. Blame that on the stupid circumstances that led me to her door three weeks ago.
“Why won’t you just admit the truth?” I asked. “You say this is about what you want but you know you and me are exactly the same. Two pods in a pea. Had you not caught me off guard, you would be the one lying here and tied to this bed. You want to watch me surrender as much as I desire the same of you. In a few minutes you will be touching every part of my body until you discover my weak spots. Then you will touch me there until I beg you to release me. Which you won’t do of course because you want me to beg. How I’m I doing so far? “
Her hungry eyes were scouring my half naked body like blood to a vampire’s nostrils. She wanted me alright, despite her avowals of indifference. The question was, how much? Would she let me live after fucking me to near numbness? Would her desire to have me again overpower the one driving her to bring my breath to a stop?
” You’re touching me in your head right now, aren’t you? ”
Her head shot up and she glared at me with indignation. She would have to be dead to not be turned on by my body. I didn’t work that hard in the gym to ensure a long life. I’ve always known I would die before my time. And I intended to maximize the use of my body before it gave up on me.
” Wipe that smirk off your face before I do it for ya,” she snapped.
I laughed. I really loved her, logic be damned. “Your hands are shaking my love,” I teased and she moved them out of my line of vision. She could be cute when she wanted to. So lethal yet so adorable at the same time, my Chaminey.
“Touch me,” I implored her. “I know you want to.” She drew an even breath at the sound of my seduction. Her yearning was leaking from every visible pore on her body. “It’s me you want to torture, not yourself. So c’mon.”
“Shut up Nigel. I’m trying to think!” She raised the hand holding the gun to the side of her head. With her eyes shut, she was hitting her hand against the side of her head in repeated motions.
“Look at me Chaminey,” I said in a challenging tone. She opened her eyes slowly and faced me. “Use that anger on me until it dissipates into liquid pleasure. I won’t stop you. No safe words. Use those sexy lips of yours and those gentle hands to leave your mark on me. Bite my lips until you can taste blood. Then put those bloody lips on my cock and suck me until I beg you for release. Which you won’t give, because I know you. Instead, you’ll let me explode in your mouth and you’ll drink my juices as if your life depended on it because you know I love watching you taste me like that…because you know I’ll want more.”
“Stop, stop talking. Please.” She probably told herself that’s what she really wanted but her eyes were telling me a whole different story. She was begging me to continue. And I did.
“Touch me, please.” My earnest plea must have caught her off guard because a sigh escaped her. And she dropped her hands to her sides. I prayed she still had the safety lock on that thing in her hand because I wasn’t about to meet my death with a hard-on. “Let the gravity of my thrusts echoe through your veins until you can’t hear any more doubt babe,” I pleaded. “Then you’ll decide what to do with me, but for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”
Chaminey walked over to me in quick strides and launched herself on top of me. Her lips wasted no time landing on mine with an unrivaled ferocity that instantly made me drunk with sensation. I could hear her heart pounding against my chest in rapid motions. When I lifted my head up so she could explore every inch of my mouth with her tongue, her heart plummeted.
I knew then that I she would let me live, even if doing so meant sealing her own doom.
Wanna know how the story of Nigel and Chaminey unravels? Look out for The Alamond Affair on Kindle. Coming Soon. Subscribe to my blog right here to get instant updates.