I’d dreamed of this day so many times in my quiet hours alone, but I never believed that it would come. The feeling of freedom, the right to love, the hope for a future with a man who loved me; all impossible just weeks before. I knew it would be difficult to forget that Ryder was not somewhere lurking around the next corner, but I figured in time he would finally fade into a distant memory where he belonged.
There was still, however, a little messy business yet to be taken care of. The next morning, when the day was fresh and new, I insisted that Lawton look through the file. Reluctantly, he consented.
While he combed through the documents, I waited nervously in the garden amidst the roses, enjoying their smells and the soft feel of their velvety petals. Unfortunately, they did little to take my mind off what was going on in Lawton’s office. Why I should still be anxious after all of his declarations of love, I don’t know, but I was. I was afraid that the entirety of my life so vividly chronicled in black and white and brilliant color would finally seal my fate, and Lawton would send me packing.
When he finally came up the garden path, through the cactus garden and the bright fuchsia blooms of the bougainvillea trellis, the file was in his hand. I trembled scared.
“You saw it all?” I asked, as he approached.
“All of it,” he confirmed. “Why do you look at me as if I’ll change my mind about you?”
“You haven’t?”
“No, Samantha, I haven’t. Have a little faith in me.” He held up the file. “You’re right, this is quite a story. But it’s your past. I’m your present and your future – if that’s what you want. I don’t doubt that you can be quite the slut. I’ve already seen plenty of evidence of that, as you well know. I certainly don’t need these pictures to show me more. I wished you had allowed me to help you, and it disturbs me that you didn’t feel safe enough to open up. It’s hard to believe that while you were working so hard to maintain your sanity, that your life was really about accommodations, and fear, and running from the devil. But that is over now. It’s over, Sam.”
I stood back, tears in my eyes, trying to absorb that fact. “I want to believe that, Lawton.”
“Then do. The man’s dead.”
“So he is.” Suddenly, I wanted to laugh. Instead, I fell into Lawton’s arms and let his warmth give me the reassurance I longed for.
In the quiet of the gardens on that high hilltop we spent a long while getting used to amazing circumstances that had just swept in and changed our lives. It was Lawton who spoke next. I could tell that he was surveying the beautiful gardens, his eyes then looking toward the horizon, then back to me, as he pulled away so he could look me in the face.
“You know, we should get married here. In this garden.”
He looked around again, admiring what he saw with a satisfied smile.
“Married?”
“Yes, married. I’m a traditional sort of guy. I hope that’s not a problem?”
I shook my head. “No, not in the slightest. But Lawton?”
“Yes.”
“Could we… maybe… burn that file first? Please?” I looked to the bulky manila envelope in his hand.
“Sure,” he chuckled under his breath. “How about we burn it first, then we’ll go down to Miss Bessie’s for a late breakfast. You think you can handle that?”
“Yes, Lawton. I think I can handle that.”
He kissed me warmly on the cheek, then we walked back to the house, arm in arm.
More Erotic Fiction by Lizbeth Dusseau:
Puppet On A String
Honeymoon in Bondage
Slave Ranch
Betrayal of the Virgin Bride
Her Latest Acquisition
Sexual Mischief
The War of the Remingtons
Stained Sheets
The Truth About Marianne
Master For A Desperate Slave
Poor Little Rich Slut
The Humiliation of Hannah
The Scandalous Demise of Lily Lake
The Secret Sins of Lizzy Barton
Pagan Dreams, Lesbian
Outer Island
Into the Dark Wilds
Force Me To Obey
These titles and many more!
For a complete catalogue of Erotic Fiction… write, email or call:
Pink Flamingo Publications
P.O. Box 632, Richland, MI 49083, 1-877-629-0051
E-mail: [email protected]
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For Consensual BDSM, Spanking Fiction and General Erotica:
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For a complete catalogue of Erotic Fiction…
Pink Flamingo Publications
P.O. Box 632, Richland, MI 49083, 1-877-629-0051
E-mail: [email protected]
Website: http://www.pinkflamingo.com
Nightmare of Vengeance Page 19