Beyond Temptation

by Lisette Ashton

  ‘I thought you might want to listen to some of your classical stuff.’

  ‘I’m happy with this,’ he insisted. He cast a glance towards the backseat and saw the reassuring shape of his briefcase held by one of the rear seatbelts. His smile broadened when he turned his attention back to the roads. The contents of that case were going to make him a very happy man, he thought cheerfully. He would arrive at Holbert Manor, most likely catching his wife unaware and, he hoped, in flagrante delicto.

  The prospect brought a grim smile to his lips.

  He felt certain she would have done something to give him grounds to divorce her. Once that fact was established he would make a deliberate show of hurling her out of the house. With that done he would take his briefcase, open it theatrically and present Sheridan with the contents: the ribbon-tied title deeds of Holbert Manor.

  He could imagine her falling into his arms as soon as she saw them. He could feel her gentle kisses on his neck and realise that she wasn’t brushing his hands away as he fondled the rounded swell of her buttocks. The idea made his raging dick stand harder. He dearly hoped he didn’t embarrass himself when he was finally allowed to penetrate her virginal pussy. It had been a worry since he first set his sights on bedding her and after today he hoped he would be able to put it out of his mind.

  ‘Watch out for that pothole,’ she warned suddenly.

  He had been so engrossed in the sight of her cotton gusset that he had lost all interest in the road. He glanced up, saw the deep pockmark in the road’s surface and swerved around it at the last moment.

  ‘You’re going to get us killed driving like that,’ Sheridan told him irritably. ‘Why don’t you watch the road, rather than my legs?’

  He laughed and blushed at his own stupidity. ‘Your legs are more interesting than the road. I could die for those legs.’

  ‘Driving like that, you might just prove your point.’

  He wished he could read the emotions behind her enigmatic expression. With any other woman he would have thought she was fixing him with a look of contempt. But Harold couldn’t believe Sheridan would ever regard him in such a way. Smiling cheerfully at her, he put his foot down and accelerated towards Holbert Manor.

  * * *

  Amelia stroked her tongue around the head of Yale’s cock, savouring the taste of his pre-come. From the corner of her eye she could see the snow falling against the lattice-leaded window. It looked to be growing heavier.

  ‘You don’t have to do this,’ Yale told her. He combed loving fingers through her long dark hair.

  She smiled up at him, her mouth filled by his length and her eyes sparkling with muted excitement. She moved her lips briefly away from him to say, ‘I want to do it.’ And then she licked him again before sliding his erection back into her mouth.

  ‘I should be out helping the team,’ he said absently. ‘There’s all the hanging and positioning to be done. I feel bad leaving them to do all the work.’

  Amelia drew his length from between her lips and studied him with a serious expression. ‘This is far more important than hanging pictures. I want to do this for you. And I want you to say something for me afterwards.’

  Frowning uncertainly, he nodded his assent and leant back in the chair. ‘You look gorgeous in that basque and those stockings.’

  ‘Robyn’s idea,’ Amelia said, before lowering her mouth onto his cock. She kneaded his balls in the palm of one hand as she worked his length with her other. Her tongue was treated to the salty taste of his cock’s sweat and she shivered excitedly. Her own arousal mounted quickly. Breaking the intimate kiss for a moment, she said, ‘Robyn thinks that all the staff should dress like this when the exhibition’s open to the public. She thinks it will help with the publicity.’

  He caressed her cheek as she moved her mouth up and down his shaft. She sucked softly at first, increasing the pressure by tightening her lips around him. His deepening breath told her that she was doing things just right for him.

  ‘May I?’ she asked, standing up and easing the crotch of her panties to one side. She showed him the thick swatch of hairs that covered her glistening sex. The lips had already peeled open like a ripe fruit. Her obvious need for him was apparent from the wetness of her sex, the raw and musky scent that flowed from her.

  ‘I’m not going to stop you,’ he promised.

  She stepped over him, straddling his legs, and then lowered herself onto his cock. A soft sigh of excitement blew from her lips as her sex engulfed him. Raising and lowering herself onto his cock, Amelia couldn’t resist the impulse to kiss him. She leant forward and pressed her mouth against his.

  ‘I’m so worried about you,’ she gasped, releasing the words between passionate kisses. ‘Are you going to be OK doing this?’

  He laughed softly. ‘Doing this,’ he said, gesturing below their waists. ‘I’m doing better than OK. I’m an Olympic champion.’

  ‘No, you arsehole.’ She struck a half-hearted fist against his chest. ‘Are you OK with Robyn’s plans?’

  He nodded as understanding came to his face.

  ‘It’s not Robyn’s plans that worry you, is it?’ he asked shrewdly. ‘You’re more worried about me and Sheridan.’

  It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact.

  ‘I preferred it when she was Voldemort and we weren’t mentioning her name,’ Amelia said glumly. ‘At least then I could imagine the bitch was out of our lives.’

  He placed his mouth against hers and thrust his tongue deep inside. She felt the tip trail against her teeth and twist alongside her own tongue. His obvious arousal left her trembling with an urgent need.

  ‘After today, Sheridan will be out of our lives for ever.’

  ‘Do you promise?’ she asked nervously.

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘Do you love me?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Then tell me. Say it.’

  ‘I’m an artist, not a poet,’ he grumbled. ‘I’ve said I love you, and you know I love you. Do I need to repeat it two dozen times a day for you to continue believing it?’

  Amelia considered the suggestion. ‘I wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘I love you,’ he said, kissing her again. ‘I love you.’

  She relished the intimacy of his embrace, sliding herself quickly up and down his rock-hard shaft. Her climax was so close she grew dizzy with the need to explode. With a grim smile, she tensed her inner muscles and squeezed tightly around him.

  Yale groaned.

  ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right dealing with her?’ Amelia asked. ‘This is acting and subterfuge we’re dealing with, remember?’

  ‘I’m good at subterfuge.’

  She remained serious as she lowered and raised herself. ‘But this is Sheridan you’re dealing with. She’s a mistress of deceit.’

  ‘I’m aware of that.’

  She looked away, and immediately wished she had done so sooner; then she wouldn’t have had to see the consternation that creased his brow. The thought that he was concerned about the task ahead of him unnerved her. Determined to distract herself from their plans, Amelia rode him more swiftly. Outside she heard the roar of an engine and wondered if it was the arrival of their guests. If it was, they were ahead of schedule.

  After a moment’s thought she realised the engine she could hear could only belong to Yale’s motor home. Christian had been instructed to move it so that neither Sheridan nor Harold saw the vehicle as they approached the building. She supposed he was driving it around to the back. Trying to shut the sounds and distractions of the outside world from her mind, she indulged herself in the pleasure of having Yale’s cock fill her. She didn’t allow herself to think that this might be the last time she ever felt him.

  That fear was too great to even contemplate.

  * * *

  Sheridan glared at the radio, sick to death of the screeching wail of the punk rock music. The sounds did little for her at the best of times. She was only feigning an interest in them n
ow so that Harold would continue to believe her fashion style was dictated by her musical tastes. In fact she would have happily tuned into the classical station and listened to that, but he was trying to be nice to her and she was forced to pretend she was enjoying it.

  The incoherent obscenities were unpleasant to listen to and were giving her a headache. She snapped the radio off and reached into her handbag for a packet of aspirin.

  Harold threw her a curious glance and she waved the packet at him. ‘I can only stand so much of the Pistols at this time of day,’ she explained.

  ‘You can stand a bloody sight more than I can,’ Harold joked.

  She smiled swiftly, popped two pills from the packet and dry-swallowed them both. ‘You still haven’t told me where you’re taking me. I’m being very trusting, allowing you to spirit me away to some far corner of the country. I could find out that you’re a violent sex attacker.’

  As she spoke she traced her fingers over his knee, up his inner thigh and towards the bulge at his crotch. She made a surprised sound as she touched his erection, hoping it didn’t sound as contrived to him as it did to her own ears.

  ‘Ooh! You feel like a potential sex attacker,’ she said, grinning.

  ‘Perhaps I am,’ he told her. ‘Or perhaps it’s just the effect you have on me.’

  She giggled. ‘Whichever way it is, it looks like I’m in trouble.’ She stroked the rigid length softly before removing her hand. Glancing nonchalantly over her shoulder, she pretended to notice his briefcase for the first time.

  ‘Why have you brought that?’

  ‘I have my reasons.’

  ‘What’s in there?’ she asked, reaching for it.

  ‘No, no, no,’ he said quickly. ‘I might have a surprise in there.’

  She smiled excitedly, hoping the expression looked convincing. Reaching into the back, she managed to brush her fingers against the case. ‘If it’s a surprise, then I have to look.’

  ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Allow me to show it to you in my own good time.’

  She giggled and punched him playfully on the arm. ‘You say the sauciest things.’

  Her mind raced excitedly as she realised how close she was to seeing her plans reach fruition. The title deeds of Holbert Manor were in the briefcase. Sheridan had glanced inside while Harold paid for petrol at the last service station. However, she was happy to play his waiting game if that was what he wanted. Her participation in his plan would be the last thing he ever got from her so it was only fair to indulge him. Once she had her hands on the title deeds, she intended dropping Harold like an unpleasant habit.

  ‘Here we are,’ Harold said cheerfully, rounding the corner of an unspectacular road. He stopped the car at the bottom of the driveway, allowing Sheridan to stare at the splendour of Holbert Manor.

  It was a building she had seen a hundred times before. The purple brickwork was as familiar to her as the office building where she now worked. Even dusted with a talcum sprinkling of snow it looked the same as it always had. She smiled wistfully through the windscreen, trying to pretend that she had never visited the place before.

  ‘Is this Holbert Manor?’

  He nodded triumphantly, unable to suppress his own good humour. ‘Impressed?’

  Sheridan wasn’t impressed. But she didn’t tell him. In all honesty she thought the building was gloomy, miserable and bloody cold inside. If she had been a given a say in its future she would have razed it to the ground and erected a handful of holiday chalets in its place. She had the good sense to keep this opinion from Harold.

  Snow had lined the driveway.

  Sheridan could see Robyn’s car parked outside, its nose pressed intimately against the bumper of Dominic’s black BMW. Her heartbeat raced as she thought of Robyn and Dominic sharing a similar intimacy inside the building.

  A broad smile crossed her lips.

  If such an incident were happening, Harold would have all the reasons he needed to end his marriage, leaving him free to bestow his precious gift on her.

  And then Holbert Manor would be hers.

  Behind the cars there was a huge oblong of grey gravel. Its edges were straight in the snow, as though it had been protected by the cover of a much larger vehicle. She gave no thought to it, except that it would be an ideal spot for Harold to park his car.

  She stared happily at the ugly old building as they moved closer. Although she had visited countless times before, this was the first time she had arrived outside its imposing façade in the comfort of a luxury vehicle like Harold’s Daimler. Soon the manor house would be hers and then nothing would prevent Sheridan from exacting her revenge.

  * * *

  ‘They’re here!’ Dominic bawled. ‘Action stations. Blue alert. Man the battle stations number one. Klingons off the starboard bow.’

  ‘Do you want to shout a little louder?’ Robyn suggested. She spoke in a deliberately soft voice, in harsh contrast to his raucous yell. ‘I think there are a couple of deaf seals in Dounreay who didn’t quite hear you.’

  Dominic moved away from the window and grinned at her. It was a shamefaced expression that was too likeable for her to begrudge.

  ‘This is quite exciting, don’t you think?’

  She didn’t trust herself to answer that one. Her marriage and future happiness were at stake and Dominic was treating the episode as though it was nothing more than a jape.

  ‘Is everything ready?’

  ‘You’ve checked the pictures yourself,’ he said. ‘And, although I do have a reputation for practical jokes, I haven’t gone around taking the pictures off the walls or anything like that.’

  She ignored his attempt at humour. ‘Does everyone know what to do?’

  He shrugged. ‘They all said they did, but it’s not like we’re dealing with great minds here, is it? Aside from you and me, we’re dealing with a stroppy artist and three models. I can’t see Mensa putting those four on their most wanted list.’

  ‘You’re not very good at easing my fears.’

  He turned, suddenly serious. ‘We’ve tried to do as much as we can. All we can do now is keep our fingers crossed and hope the pair of them play ball the way we want. I guess it’s a gamble, but that’s what life is, isn’t it? Nothing more than a gamble.’

  She shrugged. Doubt and uncertainty racked her stomach muscles and threatened to devastate her composure.

  ‘Are you nervous?’

  ‘I’m pissing my pants,’ she said flatly.

  He glanced behind her, as though he was studying the seat of her panties. ‘That’s a shame. I thought you were just excited because I’m close by.’

  The comment amused her, and her wry smile refreshed her failing confidence. ‘Do you want to get yourself in position?’ she asked. ‘I believe I have a door to answer.’

  On cue, a fist banged angrily against the old wooden door. There was such ferocity in each blow that it rattled against the weather-beaten jamb. Robyn shook her head.

  ‘Dear God,’ she muttered. ‘Doesn’t anyone know how to knock discreetly any more?’

  If everything went as she planned, it would be wise to invest in a bell for the front door. Or reinforcements for the hinges.

  * * *

  ‘Look at you!’ Harold exclaimed. He stepped into the hall and shook thick flakes of snow from his shoulders. He glared at Robyn, his expression twisted with outrage as he took in her basque and stockings.

  ‘It’s almost three hundred years since this was a brothel, yet still you have to parade round the place looking like the chief whore.’

  Robyn studied him with a serene smile that she hoped he found infuriating. If it had been his intention to make her want to slap him then he had executed his plan to perfection.

  ‘And a very good afternoon to you too, Harold,’ she said calmly. ‘We’ve been expecting you. Drinks and sandwiches are waiting in the dining room. If you want to refresh yourselves, you know where the amenities are.’ She gestured towards the stairs and turned her back o
n them both.

  ‘You’re dressed like a fucking whore,’ Harold exploded. ‘I told you the other night that I was tired of your torrid little ways. I can see now you’ve done nothing to redress the situation. You’ve got your latest lover ensconced in one of the bedrooms somewhere and I’ll bet you’ve been up to Christ knows what over the past couple of days.’

  She turned and fixed him with a careful smile.

  ‘Before you start laying down the law again, I think you should listen to an idea I’ve been toying with. And if you were referring to Dominic when you mentioned my latest lover, rather than ensconcing him in a bedroom, I thought he’d be more useful pouring drinks in the dining room.’ Turning her back on him again, she said, ‘Please join me in there, then we can talk.’

  ‘I have to go to the bathroom,’ Sheridan said. ‘Would you excuse me?’

  Robyn heard Harold mumble something to her and felt sure the pair exchanged a kiss before Sheridan headed up the stairs. The thought didn’t upset her. She just felt a little annoyed that her husband was too self-involved to see the hypocrisy of his behaviour. Rather than feeling glad that Sheridan was already going upstairs, well ahead of schedule, Robyn was more concerned that Harold was carrying his briefcase. It was a peculiar thing to take away for the weekend and she made a mental note to mention it to either Amelia or Bernice.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Harold place his briefcase and overcoat in the hall’s cloakroom. Then he followed her into the dining room where Dominic waited for them.

  * * *

  For the first time in months, Sheridan felt nervous. She wished she had relied on her gut instincts and stayed at home, rather than coming on this journey. Gayle had offered to take her out for a meal, and the rest of the evening after that had seemed fairly well scheduled in Sheridan’s mind. The fact that Gayle was so austere and demanding between the sheets both frightened and excited her. It was an unusual feeling that she wanted to explore and she had vowed, as soon as her revenge was exacted and her dealings with Holbert Manor were over, she would do her best to court Gayle’s affections.