Trudy tore her gaze away.
It was more than she had ever wanted to see of any woman’s nudity.
‘Hi, Trudy,’ murmured the naked woman.
‘Daryl?’
Daryl nodded. ‘I hope you don’t mind me being here. I was playing with Gemma and Donny. Donny said it would be OK for me to use your kitchen.’ She held up a plate to show the substantial sandwich she had made for herself. It was a modest tower of lettuce, ham, sliced tomatoes and onion. It reminded Trudy of the exaggerated cartoon sandwiches she used to see in shows like Scooby-Doo.
‘You’re naked, Daryl.’
Daryl nodded. ‘I felt overdressed being with Gemma and Donny,’ she explained. ‘Plus having no clothes on made it easier for them both to suck on my tits and finger my –’
‘Is Donny in his basement apartment?’ Trudy broke in. She had already heard more than she wanted to hear. She was trying to brush the image of Daryl’s attractive nude body being a plaything used between Gemma and Donny. The idea was obscene and pornographic and, because all of the parties involved were attractive, it was also maddeningly exciting.
She had always considered herself to be open-minded where sex was concerned. Now, learning that she could be attracted to a mature man like William Hart, and with the additional discovery that she was happy to explore the pleasures of spanking with him, Trudy believed she could be perceived as truly broad-minded.
But she wasn’t sure she approved of coming home to find Donny’s surfeit of naked women cluttering up her kitchen and casually discussing a variety of kinky indulgences that seemed to go on in Eldorado when she wasn’t there.
‘Is he in his basement?’
‘Do you want to play with him and Gemma and me?’ Daryl smiled as though excited by the idea. ‘I’ll bet we could have a great time. Gemma’s got this strap-on-thingy that –’
‘No,’ Trudy said firmly.
It didn’t help that her own unsatisfied need continued to smoulder in her loins. If her excitement levels had been any higher she would have asked Daryl to describe what the four of them could do in lurid detail. Fearful of surrendering to such a base response, Trudy said, ‘I need to know: is Donny cowering in his basement flat?’
‘No,’ Donny’s voice came from behind Trudy. ‘Donny isn’t cowering in his basement apartment. He’s here. Good evening, business killer. How’s Methuselah?’
She turned.
It was no surprise to see that Donny was naked. He had a reasonable build. His chest was broad and his arms were muscular. His stomach was flat with a tight six-pack that would have been more defined if he had ever bothered to do any exercise other than the naked rutting he practised with Gemma and Daryl.
His penis was an adequate size but soft and hung to one side. It sprouted from a thick patch of curls.
Trudy did not want to find herself looking at Donny’s penis. Before she snatched her gaze away Trudy thought she saw light glistening wetly on its surface. Had he just been doing something downstairs with Gemma? Or with Daryl? Or with both of them?
She wasn’t sure she wanted answers to her questions. She raised her gaze and kept her eyes fixed on his face. Her head was tilted so far back she wasn’t physically capable of looking any lower than his jaw.
Donny walked casually over to the open plan kitchen where Daryl was fixing him a drink. He placed an intimate hand on her backside whilst he kissed the nape of her neck. All the time he continued to stare at Trudy, as though the intimacy he was enjoying with Daryl was something she too could share.
Trudy didn’t know if it was the poor lighting in the room, or the fact that she was angry with him. Whatever the cause she thought his eyes looked black and devoid of emotion.
As he continued to stare at her she had to fight the urge to shiver.
It didn’t help that Donny was holding and kissing Daryl in the same way that Hart had held Trudy and kissed her when they were alone. It didn’t help that the intimacy looked like an exact replay of the kissing and caressing she had enjoyed with Hart. Except, Trudy reminded herself, when Hart did it to her, she didn’t think his other girlfriend was waiting in a nearby bed for two people to return so they could continue with the three-way they were having.
Hart was depraved. But she felt sure he wasn’t an animal.
Trudy locked her gaze on Donny’s eyes.
‘You sent a text message saying that Sweet Temptation is dead.’
‘Dead as a dodo,’ he agreed. ‘Dead and gone. Gone, like old man Hart’s youth.’
She didn’t respond to the jibe against Hart and his advanced age. She could sense Donny wanted to expand on that theme and she refused to give him the satisfaction of the outlet.
She placed her purse on the kitchen counter.
Walking over to the fridge, retrieving a bottle of sparkling mineral water, she twisted the cap from the drink and sipped it. She didn’t really want the drink but she wanted to remind Donny that this room was as much hers as it was his. Taking a drink in the kitchen, and showing that his nudity didn’t intimidate, struck her as a sensible way of addressing his confrontational attitude.
‘What makes you say that Sweet Temptation is dead?’
‘Because we haven’t got the funding we needed to make Sweet Temptation live,’ he replied testily. ‘I suppose it’s lucky I never got round to registering the name at Companies House. At least now, someone else will be able to use the company name.’ With a sneer of disdain he added, ‘Clearly, you didn’t fuck the old man properly. If you’d given him a proper seeing to, he would have given our project the green light.’
Trudy sucked a breath as though he had slapped her. Her grip tightened on the bottle of mineral water. Donny was either oblivious to the upset he had caused, or he was so drunk he simply didn’t care what he said. Trudy didn’t know which it was and she was in no mood to wait around and find out.
‘You should take Daryl round there now,’ Donny suggested. ‘The pair of you could fuck Hart and, this time, maybe you could do the job properly?’
Daryl smiled brightly. ‘I’m game for that. Who am I fucking? Is it Trudy? Or just this old man that’s upset you?’
‘You’re not fucking anyone,’ Trudy said firmly. ‘Donny’s just talking his usual drunk nonsense.’
‘Damn,’ Daryl grumbled. ‘I was looking forward to playing.’
‘I’m not talking nonsense when I say Sweet Temptation is dead.’ Donny sounded angry. ‘Your boyfriend stamped on our dreams.’ He laughed without humour and added, ‘I say boyfriend. I really mean decrepit-old-man friend, but there isn’t a word for that. Unless we just call him a cradle-snatcher.’
Trudy slapped him hard across the face.
‘Wow,’ Daryl muttered. ‘Good shot.’
‘I take it you agree there’s no point in maintaining the partnership?’ Donny asked, rubbing his jaw.
She shook her head in disbelief. ‘I will never work with you.’
‘I figured as much. But, now that you’re out of the picture, I might try running Sweet Temptation with Gemma and Daryl in the kitchen.’
‘Good luck with that,’ Trudy sniffed. She started to walk past him.
He grabbed her arm. ‘Where the hell do you think you’re going?’
‘I’m going to bed, you unconscionable prick,’ Trudy said. ‘And in the morning I’m going to pack my stuff and move out so I don’t have to spend another awful minute living under this roof with you.’
He smiled darkly as he finally released his hold on her arm.
Trudy turned to Daryl and shook her head. ‘Good night, Daryl. You’re a nice person. You really should stop allowing Donny and Gemma to abuse you. You deserve better. Much better.’
Daryl shrugged. The movement made her small, bare breasts sway. ‘It’s kinda fun,’ she said. ‘Sex doesn’t always have to be romance and flowers and meaningful stuff. Sometimes it can just be kinky explosions of pleasure. You should try it.’
Trudy was tempted to say something in res
ponse but she could see Donny’s mocking smile behind Daryl. She didn’t trust herself to say anything whilst he was there. Angrily, she left the room. Shaking her head, and stepping up the stairs, she thought to herself: it’s best when it’s kinky explosions of pleasure and meaningful stuff.
Immediately on top of that thought, she knew how she had to respond to Hart’s job offer.
Chapter 17
The next morning Trudy tackled the quad killer on her own. Again, she was dressed in her black running gear. Again, she was focused only on the potential treachery of the track beneath her feet. Again, she felt sure she was testing herself with this run because it felt good to be tested in ways that she understood rather than having to deal with all the mystifying enigmas the world was currently throwing in her direction.
She left Eldorado, forged a determined pace up to the dry-stone wall and then over it. From there she maintained the same purposeful rhythm until she was in the heart of the woods. Her MP3 player was banging out the loud rock ballads she associated with a good run. The thumping beats matched the pounding of her accelerated heartbeat and helped stop her from brooding on the way things had changed so drastically.
It was early.
The trees around her were large, looming shadows that silenced the impending promise of dawn. The air was icy with the memories of a cold night. The ground was stiff with shards of icy earth that had not yet started to thaw from the frosty chill of the summer’s night.
Trudy kept focused on her footing. She did not want to tumble on the quad killer. Some parts were so remote there would be little chance of being discovered if she fell and it would take a long time to hobble back to Eldorado with a serious injury.
She kept expecting Charlotte to appear but her friend was nowhere to be seen. Her room had been empty the previous night and Trudy had sent a text saying they needed to talk. Donny could declare the concept of Sweet Temptation to be beyond hope, but there had been three of them in the partnership and Trudy wanted to know what Charlotte thought to him sounding the death knell on the company before it began.
To Trudy’s annoyance, Charlotte had not yet responded.
She cut through the forest and headed up to the top of a nearby tor. This was the hardest part of the quad killer. The uneven ground in the forest was hard going. The lack of light and the potential tripfalls made it dangerous. But nothing provided such a severe test of endurance as the shear trek up the near-vertical rock outcrop. It was so challenging and demanding Trudy felt sure it had to have some incredible health benefits. Her quads felt stretched. Her muscles shrieked in protest. The whole experience reminded her of being spanked by Bill Hart.
She blushed at that thought.
Before leaving for the run, Trudy had sent a text to Hart. This one had told him that she wouldn’t be able to make their agreed date for that evening. As much as she wanted to see Hart, she needed to move her few personal belongings out of the house she shared with Donny and Charlotte and find somewhere to live away from Eldorado.
‘Damn you, Bill Hart,’ she muttered as she reached the top of the tor. ‘Damn you, Donny.’
Because of Hart declining to give Sweet Temptation his seal of approval, the company was not going to get the financial investment it so dearly needed to cover initial start-up costs. Because Donny was petty, and unable to accept that Hart probably had good reasons for his decision, the whole concept of Sweet Temptation now looked like it would never be a part of her life.
She stood at the top of the tor, staring out on a bleak dawn through icy tears. She wanted to believe that sweat or rain was making her vision blurred but she knew that the tears were only there because of her unhappiness.
Her heart raced.
Her muscles ached.
The tears continued to pour.
She was sufficiently high so she could see the county spread out below her like a welcoming vista. At the far right of her vision was Eldorado with Donny’s BMW parked in the driveway. At the far left was Boui-Boui.
‘Damn you, Donny,’ she muttered again. ‘And damn you too, Bill Hart.’
She returned home from her exercise, not quite as weary from the exertion as she had been the previous day. Trudy didn’t know if her body was getting more physically capable and able to handle the exertion, or if she had failed to give the quad killer the focused effort it needed this morning. Because her thoughts had been so focused on the problems presented by Donny’s behaviour and her relationship with Hart, she supposed it was likely that she hadn’t given the exercise regimen the attention it deserved. But, she reasoned, at least she had survived the quad killer without needing hospitalisation.
That had once been necessary for Charlotte when she twisted her ankle in the depths of the forest. The memory of her friend’s discomfort was a constant reminder to Trudy to treat the run with the respect it deserved.
She checked her mobile as soon as she got back to Eldorado. From there she went to check the landline’s answerphone. There had been no returned messages. She sent another text to Charlotte:
Where the hell are you? Call me! I’m getting worried.
* * *
Glumly, she showered and washed the grime of the run from her body. She knew she should have been aching after so much exertion but she still felt numb and empty. She stepped from beneath the steamy spray of water and towelled herself as she sauntered back to her bedroom. She had decided to dress in a business suit so she could make the best impression for those letting agents and landlords she intended seeing that day. Now she was no longer going to be a part of Sweet Temptation, she figured the few business clothes she had purchased could be used to make her look like a responsible professional even if she was only an ex-student without a fixed abode.
There was a naked woman in her bedroom.
It wasn’t Daryl.
This woman was a whey-skinned redhead. Her cheeks were freckled with a million spots the colour of milk chocolate. Her eyes were the dazzling green of fresh mint. Her hair, on her head and drawing a strip above her sex, was a rich and fiery orange. She glanced coquettishly at Trudy and allowed a sly smile to creep across her chapped lips.
‘Have you got a black dress?’
‘Gemma?’ Trudy marvelled. ‘What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?’ She wanted to ask, ‘And why are you naked?’ but she figured the answer to that question was a no-brainer. Gemma was naked this morning for the same reason that Daryl had been naked last night. Donny didn’t like women wearing clothes in the hedonistic realm of his home. He wanted them pliant, naked and ready. The thought made her stomach muscles tighten and Trudy refused to acknowledge that she found it exciting.
‘Donny said you might have a black dress I could borrow.’
Trudy didn’t bother to argue. The one black dress she had was the one she had been wearing the previous day and now it was in the wash. She explained as much and told Gemma to take her pick of anything else she found in the wardrobe.
Gemma found a pair of mini-dresses and asked if she could take the other one for Daryl. They were outfits that Trudy had bought on a whim and never dared to wear in public because she thought they were too short and revealing. She didn’t say as much. Instead she told Gemma to take what she needed.
‘You’re not as bad as people say,’ Gemma said, hugging her.
Trudy had not expected to be hugged by a naked woman that morning. The embrace came as such a surprise that it wasn’t until the woman had left the bedroom that she realised the words hadn’t exactly sounded like a compliment.
Her phone rang.
She hoped it would be Charlotte.
It was Hart.
‘Why can’t you see me tonight?’ he demanded. ‘Didn’t I spank your arse hard enough last night to make you desperate to see me?’
She laughed in spite of herself. The sound of his voice was the balm her spirits needed. Listening to the rich and decisive twang of his northern accent she realised that he was a man who would go out of his way to help h
er navigate every uncomfortable situation that life threw in her way.
‘You spanked it wonderfully.’
‘I spanked it perfectly.’
‘No,’ she assured him. ‘It wasn’t quite perfect. It needed a couple of extra strokes to be perfect. I enjoyed what we did but you didn’t quite give me the pinnacle of pleasure I craved.’
‘That sounds like a challenge to me,’ he grunted. ‘Come round here today. I’ll give you those couple of extra strokes and a little something else.’
‘A little something else?’ She giggled. Talking with him and pretending to argue was the balm her spirits needed. ‘You’re being remarkably modest this morning, Mr Hart.’
‘You call me Mr Hart when I’m about to spank your arse,’ he reminded her. ‘The rest of the time you should be calling me Bill.’
‘Of course, Mr Hart.’
They laughed together and when that sound had stopped she realised the silence between them on the phone was comfortable.
‘Why aren’t you coming round tonight?’ he asked. ‘I didn’t really piss you off, did I?’
‘No. You did piss me off. But that’s not why I’m ducking on our date for tonight. I have something to do here.’
There was more silence. This wasn’t quite so comfortable.
‘Is it a big secret?’
‘No. I’m trying to move out of the house I share with my friends. The atmosphere has become uncomfortable and –’
‘Move in with me.’
She laughed. ‘Yeah. That’s sane.’
‘Life’s too short to waste a single moment,’ he explained. ‘I’m serious.’
‘Sadly, I believe you are. But I’m also serious when I say that we’ve known each other for little more than a day and I’m not going to move in with you, take a job in your restaurant and continue being your spankmaid and sous-cum-pâtissier.’
‘Spankmaid?’ he repeated. ‘I like that term.’
‘I suspected you might.’
‘But you’re being too independent here. Back in my day –’
‘We’re not living back in your day,’ she said quickly. She could imagine Donny overhearing such a remark and making a scathing comment about women not having the vote back in Hart’s day, or them travelling by horse and cart or being treated like chattel. ‘But thank you for the generous offer.’
A Taste of Passion Page 11