Peccatum in Carne: Sins of the Flesh (The Three Sins of Mallory Moore Book 1)

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Peccatum in Carne: Sins of the Flesh (The Three Sins of Mallory Moore Book 1) Page 11

by Coco Mingolelli


  A tall and graceful creature, the school prefect wore her peroxide blonde hair in a tight ponytail. Following behind was the rest of the visiting team, dressed in white hockey shorts and shirts bearing their school colours of green and yellow.

  Inside St. Augusta's, a tense atmosphere hung over the locker room as each girl sat on the cold, hard benches, cradling their hockey sticks.

  The team’s Offensive Forward Kelly Garnett strained to see out of the nearest window, which was covered in at least ten years of grime. “They’re here,” she announced over her shoulder to the others.

  Felicity was sporting a split lip from Dawn’s fist, and grunted. She was channeling the rage and injustice of the day before as fuel for the game.

  Dawn had been ordered to get ready for the match in her room by Coach Sørensen that morning, and the McGovern girl cursed under her breath at the lost opportunity to corner the bitch who had slocked her.

  Elisabeth knew something serious was brewing between the girls, and that Felicity was not going to take the beating she had received without some form of retaliation. She had worked in education long enough to know when a girl was waiting for the opportunity to strike back.

  Felicity and some of the other boarders with family close by were leaving St. Augusta’s the day after the match, only returning for exams in the week to come. Elisabeth strongly feared that if the humiliated girl were going to take revenge upon Dawn, it would be today, and in front of everyone.

  Upstairs, Dawn smoothed her short hockey skirt down in nervousness. Picking up her game stick and pink and white eye guard in one hand, she opened the door with the other and came face to chest with Mallory.

  Stumbling backwards, Dawn managed to raise her eyes to her lover’s face. Mallory was smirking down at her.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed, trying to hide her blush as she peeked around the door to ensure there was nobody around.

  Mallory rolled her eyes and stepped in to the room. “I came to wish you good luck, although I fear I’ve done more harm than good,” she chuckled ruefully.

  Dawn gave her a hopeful smile. “Can I have a good luck kiss then?”

  ‘Oh, Dawn…’ Mallory contemplated. Provocative as hell one minute, and innocence personified the next; the coy behaviour of the young woman was one of things she loved most. Closing the gap between them, she wrapped an arm around Dawn and tilted her chin upwards with her other hand. Looking down, she kissed her on the forehead.

  “Lower,” Dawn pouted and complained.

  Mallory smiled and kissed her on the nose. “Here?” she asked teasingly.

  Losing her patience, Dawn pushed Mallory into a sitting position on the bed behind her and climbed onto her lap. Mallory's pupils dilated in surprise and lust, and Dawn began to kiss her passionately. She felt horribly naughty for doing this inside the dormitory, and the emotion only served to stoke the fire that seemed to burn constantly for the woman.

  “Dawn, the door!” Mallory mumbled her warning behind the lips that crushed against hers again and again.

  “The school... is empty…” Dawn reassured her in between kisses.

  _____________________________________

  Elisabeth Sørensen was halfway up the staircase to the top floor of the dormitory, in order to retrieve Dawn for the match. Her phone rang, and she paused.

  Glancing at the screen, she smiled upon seeing her girlfriend’s name. “Hello, min vakker en,” she answered lovingly.

  They were scheduled to leave for a wedding in Oslo later that afternoon, and Claudia had decided to spend the morning with Elisabeth before their flight from Teesside Airport at 2:00PM. She was calling to say she’d arrived.

  Elisabeth finished the call, and continued up to the top floor of the school where the senior girls slept.

  Arriving at her destination, Elisabeth strode briskly towards Dawn’s room. The hockey match wasn’t due to begin for another half hour, and the referee had yet to arrive. However, she’d planned to escort the teenager across the school to the match beforehand, lest Felicity’s gang be lying in wait somewhere to kick the shite out of her.

  Two doors from Dawn’s bedroom, her sharp ears pricked up at hearing an odd noise. Remaining where she stood for a moment, Elisabeth heard it again. ‘Jesus, is that moaning?’

  Creeping towards the bedroom in order to keep out of sight, she stayed against the wall. Her mouth slid open in amazement as she realized the racket that came again from behind the door was definitely moaning.

  Noticing the door was slightly ajar, Elisabeth chanced a peek inside the narrow space.

  Mallie was sitting on the bed with Dawn in her lap, the young woman’s panties discarded on the floor. As Elisabeth watched, she saw Mallie's hand disappear up Dawn’s skirt and heard a sharp intake of breath.

  “You still amaze me, even after all the times I’ve fucked you,” her friend whispered, thick as a thief.

  'Faen!' Elisabeth’s arousal was instant at the shameful sight. Her breath caught, and her face flushed as she became aware of an insistent throbbing between her thighs. Using every ounce of internal discipline she possessed, she tiptoed away from the door and headed for the Ladies’ bathrooms on the floor below to splash cold water on her face.

  She was drying her face with some paper towels when footsteps could be heard outside.

  ‘Shit, tell me they didn’t know I was watching…’ Elisabeth silently prayed as she heard someone enter the bathroom. She looked up into the mirror, fully expecting to see Mallie glaring daggers at her, arms folded and waiting for an explanation.

  Relief washed over her as she saw Imelda Findlay, a prefect from one of the other classes. “Miss Sørensen, Reception asked me to inform you that your guest Miss Clark is waiting,” the student relayed politely.

  “Thank you, Imelda,” Elisabeth answered, trying to maintain her icy façade despite the carnal imagery still swirling in her mind. “Is she still in Reception?”

  Imelda shook her head and smiled. “No, Miss Sørensen. She’s waiting for you in your private quarters. Reception asked me to let her in.”

  Elisabeth nodded briskly, turning away to move back into the halls. Heading to her quarters, she unlocked the door and went in, closing and locking it behind her. If Mallie could do this here, why not her?

  Stalking down the small hall between her office and sleeping nook like a panther, she moved even faster upon hearing noise from her bedroom.

  Claudia sat on the bed with a latte in her hand, reading a life and health magazine. She looked up as Elisabeth entered, and stood up to greet her with a smile. Placing the coffee and distraction down, she wrapped her arms around Elisabeth’s waist in a tender show of affection. As she felt herself being whirled around, the medic gasped as Elisabeth reclaimed her in a tight grip from behind.

  “We’ve never fucked here before,” Elisabeth growled.

  Claudia squealed with delight.

  Chapter 9: Et Introibunt in Arenae (Enter the Arena)

  The intercom in Steven's dark London office buzzed, interrupting the eerie quiet.

  "Mr. Carey is here to see you, sir," his secretary announced the lawyer's arrival, sounding a touch frazzled. That woman was always frazzled, Steven thought.

  "Thank you Astrid, send him in please," he answered in his usual, clipped baritone.

  Crossing the thick white carpet into the office, the barrister's chest automatically tensed up as he entered the cold, uninviting lair. Steven liked it this way. He liked to keep people on their toes.

  Edward Carey had represented many dangerous and morally bankrupt clients, and was not easily intimidated. However, even Steven Rose didn't totally unsettle him, and Steven liked that, too. There was definitely more to this man than met even his experienced eye.

  Leaning back in his burgundy leather chair to cross his legs, Steven greeted the barrister the minute the door was closed, not one to waste time. "I trust the boy is exercising his right not to say anything,"

  Taking
a seat in one of the smaller chairs across from the desk, the barrister set his briefcase down. "He has refused to say or do anything of consequence," Carey confirmed. "Apart from swearing at one of the D.C.'s who interviewed him, and informing them that they wouldn't get his DNA."

  Steven's blood went cold at that information. "I sent you there to make sure the fool kept his mouth shut!" he snapped.

  Carey held up a hand to appease him. "As I've already explained, Oliver has not said or done anything of consequence. There's nothing for us to be worried about."

  "Are the Crown Prosecution Services going to be involved?" Steven inquired, leaning forward to scribble on a notepad.

  "Unfortunately, yes," Carey relayed, clearing his throat and running a finger along the front of his shirt's tight neckline. "The charges are sufficient for a prosecution, which will very likely result in a custodial sentence."

  Steven accepted this. "How long?" He didn't miss a beat, nor did he look up from his writing.

  Carey debated the question briefly. "Having consulted with Oliver, I've discovered that he only struck Miss Moore in self defense when he believed himself in danger of being struck by the object she was waving around. A… frying pan."

  Steven snorted. "Yes well, the woman's always had a knack for not taking a beating lying down."

  At that slip, Edward Carey's eyes narrowed, but wisely didn't push it. "In addition to the charge of Grievous Bodily Harm, Oliver and the other…. gentleman, are facing charges of criminal trespass. However, as Oliver did not show the intent required for a charge of GBH, I'm going to try and argue it down to common assault, for which he would serve six months."

  Steven silently digested this for a minute, tapping his pen to the legal pad. Finally, he looked up and spoke. "And on the charge of criminal trespass?"

  Carey shook his head. "Another four to six weeks, but the prisons are so over crowded, it would be debatable as to whether he would serve the full term."

  Irritated by that, Steven gritted his teeth.

  "I'm afraid we can't make this go away," the lawyer carried on fretfully. "Unless Miss Moore can be persuaded to drop the charges, that is."

  He was met with a cold stare in response.

  Rising to his feet from the leather chair he'd been sitting in, Edward Carey then looked down at Steven. "How do you wish for me to proceed regarding Oliver?" he inquired, wishing for this meeting to end as soon as humanly possible.

  "Give him legal aid, but nothing more," Steven directed. "Tell him not to come within fifty feet of this office; I'll contact him first."

  Nodding, Carey left the jewel trader to his day. Scurrying backwards, he escaped through the double doors once more.

  Once the barrister had fully gone, Steven slammed his fist down on the desk. Logging into his computer with pounding fingers on the keyboard, he then pulled up the St. Augusta's Catholic School for Girls' website, and smashed the mouse button down when the cursor slid over 'Staff Directory.'

  "Oh, I'll persuade her, all right.”

  _____________________________________

  Walking down the narrow path of gravel towards the hockey field, Dawn spotted the large crowd of spectators, which consisted of parents, teachers and of course, the mandatory mob of nuns. The ankle length grass outside the pitch swayed in a faint breeze as Dawn joined the rest of the St. Augusta's team now gathered around Sister Eileen.

  "Did you come across Coach Sørensen on your travels?" the irate Sister waved her hand towards the school, and at Dawn. "There's no sign of her, and the match starts in ten minutes!"

  She whipped her head around at the sound of muted laughing behind her before Dawn could respond, and the nun glared suspiciously. "Did I say something funny Serena Windsor?"

  The schoolgirl shook her head before attempting to look somber. "No, Sister Eileen," she said meekly.

  Beside Serena stood Felicity. Dead eyed, she didn't join in the mirth. Her focus was on Dawn, who was standing in safety behind the old bat of a nun.

  The sting in Dawn's bruised cheek and eye returned, as if the very sight of Felicity had re-opened the wound.

  “You're not getting off that pitch alive, dyke,” Felicity whispered murderously.

  "At last, here she is!" Sister Eileen tittered while checking her watch, as Coach Sørensen came into view, running towards them. "Finally decided to join us have you?"

  Elisabeth drew level with them, only slightly out of breath. "I'm sorry…" she apologized, her usually perfect platinum hair now wet and scraped back in a messy bun. "I got held d- held up!"

  Rushing past the apprehensive nun to the waiting team, Elisabeth did a headcount.

  "Where's Dawn?" she asked, spinning on the pitch. "Oh! There you are! Um, so right now the opposition have…" Elisabeth stopped mid speech, seeing the open hostility between Felicity and Dawn.

  She motioned to the side of the pitch to take both girls aside, and Elisabeth's tone was guarded. "If you two can't leave your differences aside, you're out of the game. Do you understand?"

  Despite the anger simmering between them, the girls indicated they could with sharp nods and sideways glances.

  Elisabeth looked from one to the other. "I mean it.”

  "We're fine," Dawn responded deceptively. "Aren't we Felicity?"

  Felicity nodded wordlessly, eyes tight with whatever killing spree was happening in her daft head.

  Against her better judgment, Elisabeth let them go ahead. "All right, go join the team, then," she sighed and waved towards the field.

  The noise of the crowd swelled as the St. Augusta's team marched onto the pitch.

  Dressed in shin guards, eye masks and wielding their hockey sticks like weapons, they looked fearsome. On the other side of the line, the Sanderson college hockey team fell into position. Both teams eyed the black ball at the centre of the pitch, waiting tensely for the referee to allow them start.

  A whistle blew sharply. It was game on.

  Ten minutes into the game, the nuns hopped up and down in excitement behind the spectator barrier as Serena Windsor ran like the wind with the ball up the pitch towards the Sanderson goalkeeper. Dodging the other girl, Serena raced past her and lashed the ball into the now open goal.

  Wild applause erupted, mainly from the teachers of St. Augusta's and staff. It was followed by shouts of "Good on you girl, fook her up!"

  A few parents looked around in uncomfortable surprise, unsure whether that had come from the students, or the nuns.

  On the sidelines, Elisabeth was joined by Mallory, and both tried to compose themselves from recent events. They were a considerable distance away from the other spectators.

  "I'm really worried the McGovern girl is going to hurt Dawn," Elisabeth confided to the Mallory, who promptly snorted.

  If the stuck up little Daddy's girl laid one hand on Dawn, Mallory would have to be dragged off her. She shifted her scalding hot tea from one hand to the other. "Dawn can take care of herself.”

  As she spotted a dazed Claudia join the spectators behind the barrier, Mallory sipped her tea daintily before speaking. "How fortunate that you didn't leave your door ajar this morning, Miss Sørensen," she observed casually, knowing that her use of a full name would remind Elisabeth of their whereabouts, and embarrass her even further.

  Looking at the ground, Elisabeth felt warmth creep up her neck, mortified beyond belief.

  Laying a hand on her friend's shoulder before squeezing lightly, Mallory smirked. "You forget I have phenomenal hearing."

  A particular nasty curse in a language Mallory couldn't understand flew from Elisabeth's lips.

  Mallory teasingly imitate a sexually aroused woman out loud, barely drowned out by the cheering of the hundreds of spectators. "Oh Elisabeth! Oh gawwwwd, please!" Seeing her friend cringe beside her, she puffed up and grinned. "What did you do to the woman, anyway? She always looks like she has a stick up her arse. Did you dislodge it today?"

  Blushing furiously, Elisabeth shoved Mallory's shoulder. "You
can't! I was…" Huffing in frustration at being unsettled, she tried to come back under control. "Bitch!" she protested, the insult half serious, half friendly. “You're a naughty one today.”

  Throwing back her head, Mallory laughed before casting a sideways glance of rare humor. She was about to say something truly raunchy to get under Elisabeth's skin again, when a disturbance on the pitch caught their attention. "Shit!" she swore, pointing at the ruckus.

  A Sanderson girl went down while grabbed by the hair, and a hockey stick flew up in the air. Mallory ran, throwing her paper cup onto the grass behind her as she and Elisabeth sprinted towards the drama.

  All hell had broken loose on the pitch, and the match abandoned. Multiple Sanderson College girls fought the opposition of St. Augusta's in a pile of squirming, screaming teenagers. Nuns were shoving past astonished parents to get access to the absolute riot going on in the middle of the field.

 

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