by Tabatha Wild
LOVE, DESIRE & INTRIGUE.
Part one: First lesson.
By Tabatha Wild
© Copyright Tabatha Wild 2013
The right of Tabatha Wild to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved.
This book is licenced for your personal enjoyment only. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention
This electronic novel has been self-published.
CHAPTER ONE
Discovery.
I let the door close behind me and headed down the hall towards the kitchen. The sound of the tap running told me that James was home and immediately made me look at my watch to check the time.
“Is that you Kie?” he called out, just before I stepped into the kitchen.
“Hi hon,” I said, walking through the doorway, just as he turned towards me. I could instantly tell from his expression that he wasn’t happy.
“Where’ve you been?” he demanded. I noticed he had changed from the suit he wears to the office into a smart pair of beige trousers and gold striped shirt. He looked very smart.
“I… I stopped for a drink with Zoe at the pub…” I searched my mind for a reason for his angry attitude. We hadn’t made any arrangements for the evening that I could remember.
“Are you dumb or something. I’ve been trying to phone you! Why is your phone switched off?” He was really angry.
“I didn’t switch it off! And don’t call me dumb! I just forgot to switch it on after leaving work.” Sometimes it was better to fight fire with fire when James went off on one, but today, he seemed particularly angry with me.
“Fucking hell Kie, I told Gary we’d be there for the start of the match at 7.45. It’s 7.00 o’clock already and you know you take an hour to get ready.” He started waving his finger at me.
“All right,” I said. “Calm down. I didn’t know...” I looked down. “I don’t need to change James. I can go like this.” I waved my hands expressively at my blue, knee length pencil skirt and white blouse.
He was pacing about and I could see he was trying to control his temper and I didn’t want to antagonize him.
“It’s only your brother’s and you’ll be watching the match, not me!” I joked, trying to make light of the matter.
“Don’t fuck about Kylie, I want you to wear the white dress I bought you at the weekend.” He was referring to a spandex tube dress that, much to my better judgement, I allowed him to buy for me, along with a few other sexy items.
I had only imagined wearing it for him at home, or maybe when we entertained one of his brothers and their partners at the flat. I really didn’t want to go out wearing the dress. It was far too short and the material was too thin.
“Not tonight babe, I’ll slip my red dress on, it won’t take a minute.” I thought that that would appease him, but he grabbed my upper arm and shook me.
“You’re wearing the white dress!” He pushed me into the hall and his grip on my arm was beginning to hurt.
“Alright, alright” I yelled. “Take it easy!” He marched me to the bedroom doorway and pushed me into the room. The white dress was laying on the bed beside a white thong and a pair of white hold-ups. There was something a bit funny about him getting my stuff out for me to wear, I thought.
“Fucking hurry up! We leave in fifteen minutes.” With that he shoved me towards the bed and I had to put my hands onto the bedcovers to stop myself from falling headlong onto the divan. I looked round to see his heavy frame disappearing through the doorway.
I stood up and looked down at the dress. Do I really need all this hassle, I asked myself. It was beginning to dawn on me that the bad moments in our relationship, were starting to overtake the good ones.
James was a tad over 6’0” tall, broad shouldered, slim and stood very straight and upright, like a soldier. He had a shock of dark hair, cool hazel-green eyes under quite heavy eyebrows. For a big man, he had a very sensuous mouth with thick lips that could produce a wicked smile. I fell for the smile, the first time I met him.
James could be the perfect gentleman and lover at times, but his violent temper was starting to rear its ugly head, whenever I put a foot out of line.
In the six months I had been living with James, hardly a day went by without us arguing about something or other. On the other hand he was a passionate lover, which always seemed to make things better in the end.
I began to step out of my work clothes. Once I was down to my underwear, I glanced at myself in the mirror.
I’m 21, whilst James is 32, so I’m at a bit of a disadvantage being much younger than him. He also has a dominant nature, whereas mine is more unassuming, but I do try and stand up for myself if I think I am right.
I’m only 5’4” and slightly built. I’m a natural size 8, ‘B’ cup and have a curvaceous hour-glass figure. I’m not entirely satisfied though, because I’d put a few pounds on recently and was finding it difficult to shift them.
I like to wear my thick strawberry blonde hair long and loose to frame my round face and fall around my shoulders.
My complexion is fair, I have large round crystal blue eyes, high cheekbones and a smattering of freckles on the upper curves of my cheeks, which all my friends say, makes me look cheeky.
I slipped out of my underwear, quickly stepped into the shower and allowed the spray to just wash over my face and body. I tried to avoid wetting my hair and mostly succeeded.
Once I had dried myself, I slipped the tulle thong on and was grateful that I had recently trimmed my pubes right back. I cursed James again for making me wear such uncomfortable and minimalistic underwear.
I stepped into the dress and pulled it up my body, eventually rolling the top over my jutting breasts. I stepped in front of the mirror so that I could twist the dress into the correct position. It hugged my curves like a glove and my reflection did ignite a little spark of arousal in my belly.
The white dress had horizontal stripes, where the material was slightly thicker and a gathering between my breasts, helping them to keep their shape. It was a comfortable thigh length when I was standing, but because it was so tight, I knew it would ride up when I sat down or bent forwards.
I combed my hair, didn’t bother with any make-up, but rummaged around and came up with some white earrings and clipped them on. I grabbed my bag, stepped into a pair of 3” stilettoes and I was ready.
I found James waiting in the lounge with the TV on, watching a football program intently. A group of men were sitting talking to each other, because the game hadn’t even started Boring! I thought.
James tore his eyes away from the screen, when I entered the room and stared at my body. Without taking his eyes off me, he flicked the remote to flick the TV off and leapt to his feet.
“Kylie!” he exclaimed. “You look fantastic!” He rushed over and grabbed me round the waist. “I love it!” He bent down and gave me a full, heavy kiss on the lips. For a moment there was a spark of passion between us and then it was gone.
“James,” I
said breathlessly, pushing him back slightly. “I’m uncomfortable going round to your brother’s dressed like a slut!”
“Ha!” he laughed. “You’re the sexiest slut I’ve ever seen.” He slapped my butt and tugged on my arm to get me moving.
“Ow!” I protested, rubbing the spot where he had slapped me, which only had the thin layer of the dress for protection. James is a big man with big hands and doesn’t know his own strength.
He had hurt me on many occasions, when he thought he was playfully spanking me and on several occasions when he had seriously intended to hurt me.
The last occasion had been a week earlier, when he lashed out during an argument and struck me around the face. I still hadn’t got over the incident, but James quickly forgot about it and after a couple of days making up to me, returned to his normal bossy behaviour.
The dress was supposed to be his way of saying sorry, but I’d rather have had some jewellery or a pair of shoes!
The car journey was accompanied by the football commentary, so I was pleased when we eventually arrived at his brothers’.
The dress was even more awkward to sit in than I had imagined. After we had been welcomed in and settled down on his leather sofa, I spent an embarrassing half hour squirming on the slippery surface.
Beth, Gary’s wife, noticed my predicament and called me into the kitchen for a chat. She opened a bottle of wine and we sat down together on tall barstools, at the breakfast bar. I was much more comfortable.
Beth was 30 years old and had been married to James’s older brother for a couple of years. She had chosen the brother with the gentler nature and I thought he was a nice guy.
“I wouldn’t normally say anything, Kylie,” she started off. “But you shouldn’t let James treat you like a piece of eye candy.”
“Eye candy!” I spluttered, almost spilling my wine. “What do you mean?”
“The dress…” she nodded towards me.
Although I had only met Beth half a dozen times, I had already sussed out that she had a forthright nature and probably wears the trousers in their relationship. Beth was tall and slim, had long dark hair and friendly brown eyes that calmed my anger.
“It was a present,” I said, by way of explanation. “I had to wear it once…” My voice trailed away, as I thought about my weak response.
“Kylie, I really like you.” I held my breath for the put down. “All I’m saying is, don’t let him push you around. He’s got previous form, so be careful.”
I had got the impression that he had dumped his last, long standing girlfriend. I was suddenly interested in what she was saying.
“Was there trouble? What happened?” I urged her to reveal more information.
“Look, there were no witnesses and nothing was proved,” she lowered her voice. “But the police got involved, because there were accusations of stalking…” she let the word linger on the air.
“What, with his last girlfriend?” I found I was talking in a whisper too.
“Her name was Leah and I think she moved away after the trouble. She was a nice quiet girl too. He seems to go for your type” I didn’t like being categorized as being a quiet type, but I remained silent.
Beth wouldn’t elaborate on the incident with James’s previous girlfriend and the evening seemed to fly by, as I became lost in my own thoughts for much of the time.
James was quiet on the way home.
He was in a bad mood, because his team had lost and only really began to chat when we got back to our flat. I was dying to know what had happened with his previous girlfriend, but I knew better than mention it, whilst he was hurting over a bad football result.
“What were you two chin wagging about in the kitchen?” James asked when we standing in the kitchen. My head was fuzzy from several glasses of wine and I was busy making a cup of tea for myself. James had a can of larger in his hand, whilst he leant against the worktop. He too had had too much to drink.
“Oh girl stuff,” I replied. “Beth’s nice, I like her.” I commented.
“She’s got too much to say for herself,” he retorted.
“Why’d you say that?” I asked him, wondering what he really thought of his sister-in-law. He was on his third straight can since we arrived home and was busy drowning his sorrows. He always became argumentative when he’d had a few beers.
“She’s a bitch, makes Gary’s life a misery. My poor brother can’t even go out without permission from her!”
“Sounds like she’s the clever one,” I said, whilst looking down at my coffee cup.
It was a throw away remark, that I said without thinking.
I didn’t see his hand swinging, but the blow on the side of my head, knocked me sideways into a tall kitchen cabinet, where I cowered away from him into the corner of the kitchen.
I put my hands up to protect myself, but he grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the doorway.
“Kylie, you’ve been acting like a bitch, ever since you got back from work!” He dragged me into the bedroom. I was powerless to stop him and was still stunned from the blow. Hot tears had begun to flow down my cheeks and the alcohol I had consumed only added to my disoriented state.
“Leave me alone!” I cried, as he threw me on the bed.
“It’s time I taught you a lesson!” he snarled.
I rolled over onto my back, to see him unbuckle his belt and begin to pull it through the loops on his trousers.
I tried to scoot sideways, but he grabbed my feet and forced me back onto my tummy.
The blows started to rain down.
CHAPTER TWO
The job offer.
I shifted position in my swivel chair to try and relieve the ache, emanating from my sore butt cheeks that were still hurting from the previous night.
I looked around the office to see if any of my friends had noticed my discomfort, but luckily they were all either at lunch, or busy with their own tasks.
As soon as I had woken at 7 am that morning, I slipped into the bathroom to check out the damage to my tender flesh in the mirror.
The bright red marks where his belt had landed, reflected back angrily.
When James had begun hitting me with his belt, the dress and thong had offered little protection, when I tried to avoid the blows. When he had finished, I was too distraught to resist his powerful sex drive and had no option but to submit, until he had sated his anger and frustration on my frail, dazed body.
I spent half an hour in the shower that morning, thinking over my options and when I returned to the bedroom, James had left for work, thankfully!
I knew that the apologies and flowers would be waiting for me tonight, along with all his usual pathetic excuses. I had to break free of the relationship, I decided, before something worse happens to me.
A buzzer on my desk phone brought me back to reality. I suddenly realized I had spent the whole of my lunch break daydreaming about the distressing events of the previous night.
Earlier, I had turned down a pub lunch with my friend Zoe, saying I had too much work to catch up on, but I knew she was suspicious that something had happened.
I had completely lost my appetite and I didn’t want to discuss James with Zoe, until I had worked out in my own mind what I was going to do.
I reached for the phone, pushed the middle button down on the console and expected one of the other secretaries to speak to me. Instead a male voice purred from the little microphone on the intercom, “Miss Hart?”
“Err.....Yes, speaking.”
“This is Mr Witham up on the twelfth floor. Could you bring the Thompson file up to my office at 3.00 please?”
My mind whirled as I struggled to recall where the Thompson file was.
“Yes sir.” I quickly replied.
The line went dead.
Goodness! The Thompson file! Suddenly I remembered being asked to update, retype and copy some sheets from the dossier, and I had put it in my out tray. I shuffled through the tray and found the buff folder wra
pped with a large red rubber band.
My boss, Steve Randall, had given me the assignment and I had expected him to collect it, when he returned after the weekend. If I’d known it was going upstairs to the directors, I would have paid more attention to it.
Steve had been away a couple of days at our Birmingham office, so I had been helping out some of the other girls in my section. I looked at the clock and it read 2.30, so I quickly nipped to the powder room to look at my face. I applied a little foundation to hide the mark on my cheek, left by James’s slap and then a touch of lip gloss. I was ready and I had suddenly become nervous.
Mr Witham!
The young executive regularly walked through our floor with one of our department managers, but I had never spoken to the tall elegant man. Most of the girls on the 8th floor had the hots for him and the rumour was that he was free and single.
I examined myself in the mirror, as the elevator smoothly ascended to the 12 floor and was pleased with my appearance. I thought I looked very mature for a 21 year old, my black knee length pencil skirt, white blouse and yellow cardigan, definitely created just the right impression around the office
My hair looked neat, whilst the fine eye liner round my crystal blue eyes, highlighted them beautifully.
James didn’t like me going to work with a lot of make-up on and would always jump to the wrong conclusion if he caught me. He probably thought I was flirting with one of the young executives in the office.
He really had nothing to worry about, because I had always tried to avoid an office romance, as everyone knows, they usually end up wrecking your career. In just my two years at Witham & Morris, I had seen several girls leave, due to broken romances with fellow workmates.
The bell rang and the doors opened onto a wide, open plan office area. I hugged the heavy folder to my chest and marched off along the long isle, which ran through the clerks and various assistant work areas.
As I approached the end of the workplace, I was confronted with a wide glass partition, behind which, were the four partner office suites.