Lily Freeman's Blog - Posts Tagged "rough"
'A Little Band of Red'- The Prequel
Hey everyone,
So I've been busy over the last few weeks, building the website, working through the final edit of 'A Little Band of Red,' and as promised, reworking the deleted scenes.
Now when I say deleted scenes, that's not really the case. At some point during the editing process it was suggested to me that I move the start forward about five chapters, subtly dropping all the events that took place in those pages in as back story, which I did.
It was the best thing I ever did for the novel, but all my beta readers were a bit sad to see that particular section of the story go.
I always hoped I'd get the chance to release it, and now with the novel only weeks away from being published, it seems like a great time to do it. So here you are, the original beginning.
I promise you won't be finding out anything that will ruin your experience with the full novel, you'll just know what happened to PJ in the last few days before her life changed forever.
The Deleted scenes
CHAPTER 1
Tears welled, spilling down Polly Jayne Lester’s cheeks. She was tempted to wipe them, at least then she’d be able to see properly, but only until the next ones fell. Ahead of her a petrol station came into view, the forecourt packed, cars lined up behind each and every pump, not that it mattered; she wasn’t stopping to refill, she was stopping because her chest was heaving so fucking hard, it ached.
If that was all PJ had to deal with, she probably would have kept driving, but behind every pounding heartbeat was something darker; something waiting, desperate to crush what remained of her dignity.
How could he have done this to her?
She’d given the man everything; the promise of a future, the secrets of her past, she’d shared her dreams, wrapping them carefully around his, and all for what? The ultimate betrayal.
Fucking wanker!
She was tempted to punch the dashboard, just to feel a different kind of pain from the one tearing her apart, but she didn’t, she slowly pulled into a car park instead. Yanking the door open, PJ climbed out into the rain. It was ten steps to the shop door and she was drenched by the time she walked through it, but at least the rain camouflaged her tears, her red-rimmed eyes and runny nose—not so much.
For a moment she stood surrounded by people, the incessant noise, the sickly sweet fumes of diesel, the scent of her ex-fiancé, which she could still smell on her skin if she turned her head fast enough.
An hour ago Sam would have been the same, her perfume lingering on his shirt from when she’d held him, kissing him goodbye like she always did before she left his place for work. And he’d kissed her back, even grabbed her ass, grinding against her in suggestive little thrusts, but clearly that erection had been for someone else.
Would she have known that he was cheating on her if she hadn’t forgotten her phone, returning to find him in bed with another woman, and not just any other woman, but PJ’s best friend? In hindsight, she should have seen it coming, the amount of time they spent together, the shared jokes that quietened down whenever anyone else got close. She didn’t consider herself a fool, but by fuck, she felt like one now.
The ache in her chest twisted into something so painful, PJ actually stumbled back a step, inadvertently entering the queue for the Lotto counter. The fact that she didn’t move out of it was a true indication of how devastated she really was. All she needed was a phone card and possibly some tissues. What difference did it make who served her?
Rummaging in her handbag produced a tampon, some electrical tape, then finally her wallet, but just as PJ was about to pull her hand back out, her phone rang, the last dredges of its charge being drained by Sam’s ringtone.
What the hell was she meant to say to him, or him to her for that matter? She didn’t want to hear his apology, or worse, his excuses about how she’d been working so much lately, not putting the effort into their relationship—ignoring him. They were fucking adults, shit happened. It wasn’t a reason to cheat. And as for Becky—PJ actually had to stop that thought right there, it was either that or scream.
For a moment, her vision faded, everything going black. There was just too much pressure behind her eyes and in her chest; her whole body locked tight but the release she so desperately needed never came. There would be no more crying in public today.
Glancing up, PJ found the bald middle-aged shop assistant staring at her with an odd kind of smile.
“You want a ticket, Love?”
No, she actually just wanted him to look at her face, not her boobs. “No, thank you. I want a twenty-dollar phone card and some of these.” Grabbing a packet of tissues, she handed over the cash, waiting as he entered the sale, but he seemed in no particular hurry to hand her change back.
“You sure? Biggest jackpot in New Zealand history this weekend, and it’s gotta go.”
So did she or he was going to have a hysterical female wailing in the middle of his petrol station. “Fine, just give me what everyone else got.”
Saliva pooled at the sides of his mouth as he grinned. “Could change your life, a win like that.”
Any more changes and she wouldn’t recognize it; she barely did now. Yesterday she’d had everything the average twenty-seven year old female wanted. A doting fiancé, plans for the future, friends she could trust, yet the reckless actions of the one person that was meant to love her had destroyed all of that.
Picking up the tissues, PJ pulled one out, blowing her nose before she was handed her little golden ticket, a handful of change and a top-up card.
“Thanks.” Her phone was ringing again, but she just ignored it as she worked her way back out onto the forecourt. It took forever to find her keys and even longer for her hands to stop shaking, but they had by the time she pulled back onto the motorway.
Half an hour later she was calm as she walked into the office, her eyes no longer red, her cheeks no longer flushed. Her heart was still beating a little to fast, but that was to be expected because it honestly felt like it had been torn in two. Switching off her cell phone, PJ dropped it in her bag; she also flicked her landline to call minder. If she could just get through the day without having to deal with Sam or Becky, or any of her well-meaning friends, who no doubt knew all about the final humiliating demise of her relationship, she could deal with this, in her own way and in her own time.
When the door slammed behind her though, heavy footsteps pounding up the hallway, she knew it was never going to be that easy. Sam wasn’t the only man capable of turning her life upside down. Derrick, her boss, had been doing it all year. The man was an asshole, hell bent on seeing her fail in every task he put in front of her. The fact that she hadn’t yet, just seemed to make it worse.
CHAPTER 2
Firmly shut behind the safety of her front door, PJ slid the deadbolt home. Her workday hadn’t been quite the nightmare she’d anticipated as Derrick’s attention had been elsewhere. With her desk situated right outside his office, she’d been privy to the heated conversations that had kept him busy while he tried to sort out some major crisis, and PJ supposed to him, it probably was. One of her co-workers who was meant to be leaving for China the following week had been hospitalized with pneumonia, leaving Derrick very much in the lurch.
Normally seeing him so stressed would have amused her, a sort of poetic justice, but not today. PJ was just too overwhelmed by her own problems to care.
Picking up the grocery bags, she wandered down the hall, ignoring the flashing light by the phone as she headed straight for the kitchen and the nearest bottle of wine. Pouring a glass, she sat at the bench. The first mouthful thankfully went straight to her head, the second also.
Two glasses later, she’d unpacked the groceries, consumed some truly uninspiring food and managed to completely ignore the answer machine every time she’d walked past it, but she couldn’t anymore. Hitting the small red button, she waited the three agonising seconds it took for the message to play. The conceited male voice that filled the hallway wasn’t the one she was expecting; it was so much worse.
‘… the China deal, Lester. I’m sending you.’
“What. No!”
Derrick couldn’t be serious. PJ was a garment technologist for fucks sake, she dealt with fabric and designs, not sales and contracts. Yes, she was more than capable of doing it, but not at this level, and not in China. Josh, the sales rep in question had been in contact with the clients for months in preparation for this trip. If Derrick were honest to God serious, this would give her four days to prepare.
That wasn’t what worried her though, it was the thought of traveling alone, to a place where she didn’t speak the language or understand the culture. The whole scenario was so far out of her comfort zone; she could already feel the tight, constricted grasp of a panic attack.
Hitting the button with far more force than was needed, PJ deleted his message then emptied her glass, the alcohol burning all the way down. She was tempted to grab the bottle; instead she climbed to her feet and headed to the bathroom. Getting drunk wasn’t going to solve anything.
While she slowly fumbled through her nightly routine, PJ tried not to look in the mirror, but it was impossible. Everything about her looked dull and lifeless, from her light brown eyes to her messy blond hair. Even her cheekbones seemed far more pronounced than they had yesterday and her usually plump lips were drawn, rough from where she’d bitten them to stop herself crying. Quite simply, she looked like a wreck and three weeks in China feeling stressed and anxious wasn’t going to help, or maybe it would?
Stepping away from everything she knew might be exactly what she needed; the chance to reassess what was important to her because there was no going back. Her relationship with Sam was over, her friendship with Becky too. Her career was at a crossroad, not going anywhere yet demanding so much for the privilege, and something had to give. She’d be damned if it was her.
****
Several times during the night PJ woke up, reaching for Sam, just wanting to—and then she’d remembered, the full color, surround sound flashbacks appearing right behind her eyes, of Becky’s naked ass grinding above him, her high-pitched moans, his low grunts.
She’d contemplated getting up and emailing him, while her anger was still raw, scathingly so, but she’d decided against it, opting to take a sleeping pill instead.
Eight hours later on the flip-side of that decision, PJ felt great. Well, not great but better.
After a shower and breakfast, she headed out the door with a list of things she was going to need for her impending trip.
The evidence of yesterday’s meltdown lay scattered over the passenger seat of her car, not that she could remember upturning her handbag, but she must have. Grabbing her lipstick, chewing gum, and a beaded bracelet that always pulled the hairs on her arm; PJ shoved them back in her bag, about to zip it up when she spotted one last item. Prying the crumpled Lotto ticket out from between the seats, she stuffed it back in as well.
Traffic was quiet, which was rare for Auckland, so PJ took her time, avoiding not only Sam’s suburb, but Becky’s also. After finding a park, she grabbed a coffee then spent the next hour aimlessly wandering the streets until eventually she ended up outside a shop she’d always been too self-conscious to enter. Not today though. Two steps, a deep breath and she was in. With a quick glance around to make sure she didn’t recognize anyone, PJ made her way to the top of the first aisle.
Overhead lights bounced off PVC, lots and lots of PVC and mannequins, wearing figure-hugging outfits with explicit cut-outs. One of them had her fingers curling, wanting to explore so she did. The black latex cat suit had a full-face mask with tiny slits at the nostrils and a slash across the mouth, but it was the cut-out holes at the nipples that PJ touched. Sliding lower, she ran her fingertips along the zip that ran from the belly button to the crotch.
Her own fantasies had taken her to many places, but tight constricting outfits had never been one of them, so she headed further down the aisle until she found a small notice board covered with posters. As PJ scanned them, one grabbed her attention. With its immaculately formed black handwriting, it was a work of art, exquisite in its simplicity, erotic in its content. She read it line by line, twice, her thighs clenching, her knickers getting damp.
‘Master Lucas’ was looking for a new girl. No previous experience in the lifestyle was required because he preferred to mould his slave to his own needs. The list of abbreviations that followed made no sense at all. The next item was a large glossy poster advertising an event at a club that PJ had never heard of. Five huge men wearing tight black pants leaned against a bizarre piece of wooden furniture, all of them sporting the same harsh facial expression. Blatantly visible behind them on a wall was a massive display of whips and floggers, paddles and canes.
Spinning on her heels, PJ found the real thing behind her. With a tentative step, she reached out and touched one. The flogger was beautifully made, black and red leather woven intricately around the handle, but it was the strands that she stroked, her mind drifting as the soft texture brushed over her fingers. She’d always wondered what it would feel like to be struck, on the back of her thighs, her ass—her breasts, and maybe it was just the location, or the fact that she was completely surrounded by every conceivable kind of sex toy, but for the first time ever, PJ followed that fantasy, seeing her naked body bent at the waist, her wrists secured, her thighs wide, bound and—“Ahh.”
A needy little sigh escaped her, but it was the distinctly male huff that had her turning back to find a tall, dark haired man standing directly behind her. Light green eyes, deep set under a slash of black brows followed her hand as it fell to her side.
“It’s lovely that one, has a real snap at the end.”
“Pardon?”
He smiled, flashing a little too much teeth for PJ’s liking.
“Have you ever been flogged, Pet?”
“No.” With a rapidly increasing pulse, PJ took a step back.
“You’re curious though, aren’t you?”
If she was, she certainly wasn’t about to tell the rather creepy stranger who appeared to be stripping her clothes off with his eyes. “No.”
He laughed, actually threw his head back and laughed.
“If you say so.”
In a rush, PJ headed further down the aisle. She could feel him watching, his gaze hot and heavy as she rounded the corner to find some more familiar objects. A myriad of vibrators and dildos lined the shelves, but she knew what she wanted and found it easily. Grabbing the bright pink Dorcel vibrator, she wedged it under her arm and kept browsing.
After some serious blushing and deep calming breaths, she approached the counter just as a woman appeared from a side door carrying an armful of books, the top couple slowly sliding off. Dropping her items on the counter, PJ reached to steady the teetering pile.
“Thanks.” The woman smiled. “Thought I’d bitten off more than I could chew.”
Carefully she pushed the stack to one side before picking up PJ’s items.
“Good choice. I have one of these and I love it.”
“Well, anything’s got to be better than what I’ve just had.” Ohh, God that sounded bitchy, but it was true. Sam had been a monumental let down on all fronts, not that she was bitter.
While she waited, PJ glanced over at the pile of books. The cover was beautiful with its silver handcuffs, casually lying on a plaited leather whip and a coil of silk rope, all three displayed in front of an imposing black door. Embossed across the top in heavy black font was the title, ‘The best kept secrets, ten clubs you never knew existed.’
“Is that for real?” Tentatively touching the book like it might bite, PJ opened it.
“Ah yeah, it’s not for sale though, not to the general public anyway.”
“Oh.”
“Okay, let me rephrase. It’s not for sale to crazies or Christians, these are all pre-orders for our bondage groups. It’s like the bible of the world’s most exclusive clubs.” All wild black hair and eyeliner, the woman leaned closer, a coy little smile curving her bright pink lips. “Funny thing is, we sell it to them, but none of them will ever get through those doors.”
“Why?” God, she sounded naïve but PJ really wanted to know.
“They’re all exclusive, money talks in those scenes. They set the membership fees through the roof so only a certain caliber of society can join, then they screen them from head to toe so only the gorgeous, rich people get to play.”
“Fair enough, I suppose.” As PJ flicked over the first few pages, she was instantly struck by the opulence of the scene before her, the staged rooms, the ominous lighting focusing on a single piece of furniture that looked like it was designed to torment, and probably was. That fact didn’t seem to stop her heart rate, which increased of a sudden.
“If you want one, you can buy one. You don’t look like you’re going to be spray painting their front doors anytime soon.”
Closing the book before any other unexpected visceral reactions struck her, PJ smiled. She wasn’t usually this highly strung, but then again it had been a hell of a week.
“Is that what they’re worried about?” Her items, now bagged were placed in front of her.
“Uh huh. Certain people.” The woman studied PJ, her gaze openly critical, “find the whole lifestyle offensive. Some famous faces have been named and shamed when technically that’s what they’re paying for, the right to go somewhere, close the door and become the person they really want to be, even if it’s only every third Saturday of the month.”
Handing over her credit card, PJ said nothing when a copy of the book was slipped into her bag, the exuberant price no doubt added to her bill.
“Each to their own, I say.”
PJ was still thinking about her intense reaction to the images in the book when she got home. But that distraction was quickly over shadowed by another more depressing one when she opened the door to find the answering machine flashing once again. Her first thought was Sam, possibly calling as he’d stood on her doorstep this morning, wondering where the fuck she was. Her next thought was Becky, although deep down, PJ knew her self-centred, two-faced ex-best friend would never take responsibility for what she’d done. This would be no different.
Her hands were actually shaking when she hit the button, her legs too as Derrick’s monotone drawl boomed around her hallway, ranting about details and dates, sales projections, visas and flights. It was the final nail in her coffin because as terrified as she was about taking this trip, she simply couldn’t afford not to. With a mortgage to pay and her weekly bills, she was trapped, financially tethered to the wanker until she could secure another job. Refusing to let that depressing thought take hold, PJ picked up her bags and headed for the kitchen, for wine … or possibly the vodka.
CHAPTER 3
Lying in bed on Sunday morning after a truly depressing Saturday night, PJ felt calm, surprisingly so considering the state she’d been in after Derrick’s message. But even now as the details started to play back through her head, the ramifications of each one causing her heart to beat a little faster and her head to hurt as the pressure once again built, she tried to push her concerns aside. No good was going to come from working herself into a state. She was a level headed, competent woman for God’s sake, she could do this!
When it couldn’t be avoided any longer, PJ climbed out of bed. The washing basket was full and the floor needed vacuumed. After a piece of toast and a coffee, she attacked both tasks. It was a welcome distraction, working her way around the house, tidying things up and pulling back curtains.
Within an hour she had the whole thing done, her lounge pristine and bathed in sunlight.
Stacked high in front of a large window facing the rear of her property was a huge pile of cushions that had always been her favorite spot to stretch out naked with Sam and—“Fuck.”
A crippling wave of misery appeared out of nowhere, slamming into PJ. He was everywhere in her home, his clothes still in the dryer, his toothbrush still in the bathroom. Those things she could remove, and would along with the rubbish before she left for China, but the memories were another thing, much more intrusive and she didn’t want them here anymore.
Without questioning why, PJ headed for the bedroom, collecting several items including the half eaten bar of chocolate she’d consoled herself with last night. Returning to the cushions, she dropped down onto them. The vibrant orange silk was blissfully warm as she stretched out with her new book balanced on her knees. She’d planned on saving it for her flight, so rather than spoil all the fun she skipped the intro and went straight for chapter one.
The photo was glossy; charcoal walls softly accented by a massive chandelier. And there were other things too, chains hanging from the ceiling, and handcuffs, thick silver ones. Her hands were shaking, just a little, when she rubbed them down her thighs, the denim all of a sudden feeling abrasive and in the way. More than anything, she just wanted to forget about the pain and heartache, the utter sense of betrayal Sam had caused her. She wanted to feel normal again and right now, normal was insisting she strip off her jeans, grab her new toy and find a happy place, one that didn’t revolve around her ex-fucking-
fiancé.
Sliding the book from her knees, PJ flicked open the fly of her jeans, easing first one leg out and then the other. The heat of the sun was quickly matched by the slow simmer of anticipation, arousal, and months of unsated lust. Her T-shirt followed her jeans, her bra too, both carelessly flung on the floor before her thighs fell apart, her eyelids fluttered shut. With a gentle touch, she ran a fingertip across her bottom lip, coating it in moisture then moving lower, one hand gliding down over her breast while the other delved between flesh already slick.
Toying with her nipple, she spread the wetness, which cooled instantly as her fingers danced, her skin drawing taut a second before she pinched. PJ groaned, low and husky as a sharp burst of pain fired straight from her breast down to where her fingers slid easily in, out, in again, a little harder, a little faster. It felt absolutely divine, but she needed more.
Grabbing one of her vibrators, she peeked down to see which one, her new eight inches of bright pink rapture. Dropping it beside her, she reached for her other one. Not quite as thick or as long, it was probably the sensible starting point. PJ clicked it on.
Slowly, because teasing felt so good, she trailed the tip over her nipple, circling several times and pressing hard then she moved lower, over her tummy and along the curve of her hip, down to her clit.
“Ahhh.”
As her back arched, her heals dug into the floor, thighs falling even further apart. Her mind wandered to big hands, dark eyes and a fantasy that up until this point, she’d always denied herself, but not today. If her reality could become a nightmare then her dreams could become true. All she had to do was lie back and let them.
Cool satin brushed PJ’s knees as she was pushed forward, a hand on her neck before fingers twisted roughly in her hair. Beneath her, the man reared up, capturing her lips. She gasped as his tongue thrust deep, his taste filling her mouth: whiskey, chocolate, midnight and spice. She wanted more, needed it.
Behind her, coarse hands smoothed down the inside of her legs, nudging her knees further apart before she felt the heavy weight of large masculine thighs pressing up hard between hers. Despite the grip on her hair, she turned, desperate to see the face of at least one of the men who had her trapped.
Darkness softened the details but she could still make out his short black hair, cropped but not shaved, and his stubble, a dense line shadowed along his jaw. Above that, his lips curled into a smile that was all kinds of wicked.
“Hmmm, well aren’t you just a pretty sight?”
Those words, in that voice, had PJ gently rocking against the vibrator. She’d heard them a thousand times before. This was the fantasy that played through her mind in those precious few seconds before her climax stole her away. There’d been others over the years, fleeting fascinations that she’d had, unfulfilled desire, but none of them had claimed her like this one did.
Easing the toy out of her pussy, PJ pressed it hard against her clit, grinding back and forth while she reached for her other vibrator. A second gentle hum filled the room, getting louder as she turned up the dial, her hips rocking, thighs widening even further. They were waiting for her in the darkness, behind her closed eyes as she worked the thick pink vibrator inside, pressing down for a second over the little spot that always drove her wild and it did but not as much as—
Crack.
The hand that slapped her ass took her breath away; it was so sharp and unexpected. Just as she was about to protest, her hair was caught, her head tugged down. Intense, sensual brown eyes stared into hers a second before she was kissed with such devastating skill that she gave up, gave in, just let the man she straddled take over. With a lazy caress he lapped at her then nipped when she attempted to kiss him back.
“Uh uh. You don’t get to do anything unless we tell you to. Understood?”
Oh yes, she understood perfectly. She was just to overwhelmed to respond.
“Answer me.”
The deep gravelly voice of her fantasy lover teased her lips, the rough edges of his comment beautifully smoothed out as he chuckled.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good.”
Crack—Another slap struck her backside, same place, just harder.
“This gorgeous ass is gonna burn by the time I bury my cock in it.”
“Ohhh, God.” Just the thought had PJ moaning around the tongue thrusting into her mouth, her legs trembling as a surge of arousal swept through her. Hands gripped her hips, steadying her before she was dragged back against a rock-hard male groin. He felt massive, hot and heavy, his erection like steel as it eased between her ass cheeks.
In her bed of cushions PJ panted softly, her hips undulating back and forth, working the vibrator deeper. For a moment there was pain, a sharp blast that burned through her in waves, but it was gone before she knew it, completely overridden by an unholy surge of lust.
Crack.
“Ouch!”
“Are you wet, Baby, at the thought of two men fucking you?”
Warm breath tickled her neck, his stubble scraping over her shoulder and down, only to pull away.
Crack—The other cheek this time, fire converged somewhere in the middle.
“Oh, God, yes.”
The hot, heavy thighs rubbing against her backside moved away, a finger taking their place. Starting at the small of her back he stroked his way down her ass, probing and pressing then slowly sliding lower till he found what he was searching for.
“Fuck you are, aren’t you?”
Grunting, he plunged his finger inside her pussy, quickly adding a second with a vigorous twist. The hand gripping her hair eased off, allowing her to finally lean back enough to take a good look at the man below her. He was beautiful, his scruffy brown hair tipped lighter on the ends where it curled against his neck and his big brown eyes were exquisite, captivating as he stared up at her. Long, thick lashes lay against olive skin, his broad high cheekbones cutting a savage line across his incredibly handsome face, and that was before he smiled as he reached for her breasts, lifting them up to his mouth. She just stared, her own eyes wide, her body poised, waiting for the moment when he touched her.
“Ahhh.”
Wet heat surrounded her nipple, his tongue flicking roughly before he sucked her deep.
“Yes, yes, God, yes.”
Crack—Another stinging blow hit her ass hard enough to jolt her forward.
“Did I say you could speak?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You will be.”
Crack, crack, crack.
For an agonizingly long moment, slaps rained down, landing on first one cheek and then the other, all the while his fingers still pumped in, out, in—deeper. When he stopped, gentling his touch to a caress, PJ tried to calm down, but his finger was moving again, trailing a path along her center to settle right over the one place that had her heart pounding with fear. No one had ever touched her there. She waited, her fingers clenching the sheets and her back rigid until an unexpected blast of pain shot through her breasts. Sharp teeth clamped down over her nipple before his tongue swept lower, lashing the underside. Stubble chased the same course, his chuckle rumbling, hot breath over wet flesh.
She quivered, desperately trying to claw back some control, but they’d hijacked her body. Her hips undulated, working her breasts over one man while she rocked shamelessly back against the other. Mesmerized, she watched her nipple being captured, dimples flashing a second before his teeth bit again.
“Ah Jesus, please.”
The fingers at her backside vanished for a second, a cold wetness taking its place.
“You’re tight, Baby. You might want to relax or else this is gonna hurt.”
Relax, she could barely think. The unnerving pressure against her ass was back and she couldn’t help but fight, her muscles locking tight, her back arching. In the end he still won though, his finger pressed inside her, twisting, retreating, pressing in again. The feeling of fullness was so overwhelming, her breathing deteriorated into a series of short, sharp pants.
“You like that, don’t you? I can feel you trembling.”
Did she like it? She honestly didn’t know. Her nipples were being tormented, licked and bitten, sucked and tugged and the fingers pumping inside her pussy were relentless, rubbing over places that had her coiled so fucking tight, she was about to fall apart. As glorious as all that was, none of it over took the other sensation, the one that was so deep, it staked a claim all over her.
Crack, crack.
“Answer me. Do you like that?”
Inside her, fingers dragged past each other, knuckles grinding, barely separated by the finest layer of flesh. PJ shivered, her legs weak, her head falling forward.
“Yes, oh, God, yes.”
Hands cupped her face, turning her back for a kiss. Her beautiful dark haired lover speared roughly into her mouth with a fierceness that matched his partner. They were everywhere, pinching her breasts, fingering her ass, filling her pussy. The sensations left her spinning, lost in a kaleidoscope of arousal that was so vivid and intense, it eclipsed everything.
Between her thighs a calloused finger stroked over her clit in tight little circles, not enough but too much all at the same time. Desperately, she twisted her hips, searching for more, needing it but instead he stopped.
“No.” It was a whimper this time, hidden inside a kiss.
Behind her the bed dipped, the solid weight moving away only to come straight back, closer, his knees nudging hers further apart, his hands pushing her down.
The long, hard length of an erection pressed against her stomach and the fingers were back, two, maybe three pushing inside her ass, thrusting gently. Somewhere in the last few minutes the feeling of fullness had changed from vastly uncomfortable to strangely stimulating.
“Ohhh, more.”
Both men laughed, then she was shifted, her ass raised slightly, her shoulders pulled down, wider still with the knees until she felt his cock easing between her folds. Hands gripped her hips, one from above, pinning her steady and two from below, locking her in place. All three of them stilled, suspended in some kind of exquisite anticipation, then she was pushed down, hard.
“Oh fuck!”
Her cry was piercing, shrill to the ears, yet there was a depth to it, so much more than pain and surprise. There was longing in the noise just like there was in her body, if only she could grab it and hold on tight.
A hand cupped her face forcing her to gaze down into those beautiful, brown eyes.
“Do you feel that lover? You’re mine and I’m going to fuck you till I’ve had enough.” So dark and so sensual, his voice rolled through her before he pulled out only to drive straight back in and she felt every inch sliding into her, the heat of him, the size; all of it was perfect.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, I feel … ahhh—you.”
Twisting in her pillows, PJ moaned—loud, too far gone to care what the neighbours might think. Her body was on fire with a delicious kind of heat that roared up and down her leg, over her tummy. Even her breasts, which she’d long ago abandoned were still throbbing, but they wouldn’t be for long.
Crack— “And me, Baby, when I work my way into that tight ass of yours, how do you think that will feel?”
His voice whispered over her shoulder, his breath tickling her hair but it was the promise in his comment; the threat had her trembling with an urgent need.
Crack— “Tell me.”
His hands glided around to her stomach, encircling her waist, his torso pressing hard against her back then he lifted her, shunting her forward. The fingers in her ass slid free and she instantly registered the loss until her lover below, thrust upwards.
“Ahh, Christ.”
With a long, deep stroke he arched his hips off the bed, burying himself inside her. Suspended above him, PJ was helpless as he drove into her hard and fast, again and again while she fought against the agonizing pleasure.
“Oh God, oh God.” She panted and thrashed. “I can’t take … ohhh, you’re … too … big.” Dropping her head, she got a glimpse of rippling abs, flexing under smooth golden skin, before her head was sharply yanked back up. A hand fisted in her hair, forcing her to focus on dark mesmerizing eyes.
“Shhh, just let it happen. We’ll take care of you.”
Rocking gently, oh so gently but with such wicked intent, she felt the man behind her, the slow slide of his cock sending shivers racing up her spine and down her thighs. She knew it was going to happen, she just couldn’t hold onto her fear long enough to care.
Flesh slapped flesh as the pressure inside her continued to mount, higher, higher, pleasure collided with pain, pain collided with pleasure, the two merging perfectly to create a beautiful kind of chaos. Short, intense blasts of desire fired through her body, exploding in her core as she got fucked. She wanted to bear down, meet his thrusts, but the arm around her waist was crushing, holding her completely still, forcing her to take everything he gave her and she did.
“Oh God, oh I’m gonna—”
He pumped into her harder, faster, deeper.
“Not yet, Baby, don’t you dare come. The funs just getting started.”
All movement stopped, her lover easing out. He was gorgeous when he smiled, even more so when he stroked her cheek, catching a damp strand of hair, and tucking it behind her ear. She couldn’t resist sweeping a finger across his face, loving the curve of his lips as he grinned.
“That’s my girl.”
The chuckle behind them broke their moment, not that she’d forgotten what was waiting for her, or who.
“Oh, I think she’s about to become my girl, don’t you?”
Hands locked tight, two below gripping her hips, two above spreading her cheeks, then the burning sensation hit as he pressed forward, slow and steady, unrelenting.
“Oh, God.”
Crack—The slap had her jerking up, turning around to find dark eyes, narrowed with intent. The strain on his face was obvious, but it was nothing compared to the strain on her body, which was easing as he pulled back. Another dribble of cold lubricant slid down her backside then it all started again, gently in, slowly out, in, out.
“Relax, Baby, it’ll only hurt for a minute then you’re gonna feel so fucking good.”
But as he pressed in again, deeper this time and holding for longer, the burn turned into a searing pain as both of them nudged forward, the man below just to distract her, the man behind to claim her, and he did, working till he was buried to the hilt. Moaning in ecstasy/agony, she didn’t know anymore, couldn’t tell, yet the feelings running riot through her body were exquisite. Her thighs clenched, her arms trembled; both men groaned then one of them spanked her hard.
“Oww.”
“You like to tease, Baby? Well so do I.”
With a gentle touch, his fingers grazed along her folds, gathering wetness then moving higher, rubbing softly over her clit, round and round, a little pinch, round and round, the friction building. Her resolve shifted from something tenacious to a complete and utter surrender.
“Ahhh fuck.”
One of them laughed, deep and husky, “Hmm, I think we will.”
It started slowly, one in, one out—in again.
“Ohh—God.”
Slumping forward, PJ found firm, moist lips parted and waiting, his sweet, rich taste filling her mouth as his tongue curled, drawing her deeper. And she went willingly; desperate for an anchor to stop her falling into everything she’d ever dreamed of.
Between one breath and the next, her kiss ended before gentle turned rough. Lips brushed her face, her back, kissing, licking, and she wanted to kiss back, to feel the tenderness but their rhythm was fierce, relentless and demanding.
“Ahh, Jesus.”
No slap followed that cry because PJ had said it out loud, in the lounge just as she’d thrust the vibrator inside. The dial was all the way up now and the result was intense, more so when she rolled the two toys together, one ravaging the outside while the other wreaked havoc of the most delicious kind on the inside.
The feeling of possession was sublime, the sound of hard flesh hitting wet flesh, even more so.
“Ah—fuck, so good, you feel so fucking good.”
Crack.
“Oww.”
Fingers gripped her hips, dragging PJ back as he slammed into her ass so hard; she felt it resonating right through her body. Sweat ran over her breasts, and her hair was everywhere, clinging to her neck and her face as she was jolted back and forth.
The lazy drag of a tongue swept over her throat then along her jaw. PJ turned, kissing him just as he thrust deep, and she fell apart.
All of them groaned, high and low, hungry and desperate while she convulsed, everything inside her clamping down like a vice. Sensuous primal patterns dissolved into desperate thrusts with no finesse or no rhythm, just a slamming of bodies as she came in an exquisite explosion of pleasure.
From head to toe PJ trembled and still they fucked her, hard and fast, relentless in their need for release. Their groans surrounded her, so masculine and raw, one thrusting in, one pulling out, then both of them slammed in together and held, grunting and jerking, coming in a hot rush. Her hair was caught in a loose grip, her head tugged down for a kiss that was slow and lazy, while other lips slid along her neck, teeth nipping playfully, capturing her earlobe.
“Beautiful, Baby, you were so fucking beautiful.”
Sometime later, much, much later, PJ woke. Feeling blissfully relaxed she finished the housework, made some lunch and then spent the rest of the afternoon searching job sites. If the last few days had taught her anything, it was that change was eminent. Things couldn’t continue in her life the way they were. She’d fallen into a rut without even realising it, accepting Sam’s half-heart attempt at a relationship as the best she was going to get, and Derrick’s daily harassment as the norm, some sort of fucked up barometer to judge her worthiness. None of it was healthy and now she could see that, it was time to put a stop to it, starting tomorrow.
CHAPTER 4
“Come in, PJ.”
Someone sounded like they’d had a rough weekend, but as PJ didn’t care in the slightest, she didn’t ask. Moving to the chair opposite Derrick’s desk, she sat down. Being a classic egotistical office maniac, he sat staring at her from a vantage point at least six inches higher, and he was in no hurry at all as he casually slid a piece of paper across the desk.
“You leave tomorrow at ten, flying straight into Hong Kong. I’ve rescheduled two of the four meets for you there. The other two are in Hunan, but you’ll have to get an emergency visa from the New Zealand Embassy before you can fly on to China, and that might take a week.”
Derrick smiled, sneered, something happened to his face that she couldn’t quite figure out.
“There might be some issues with the domestic tickets Josh had organized. They weren’t overly keen to transfer them over to you, but I guess you’ll just have to deal with that shit when you’re there.”
With a sense of mounting dread, PJ scanned the list of flights and locations in front of her, but after the third unrecognizable place name she gave up, folding the itinerary in half. The last thing she wanted to do was look at Derrick because she’d never been good at hiding her emotions, and right now her contempt for him would be written all over her face.
She honestly hated the man. At every opportunity over the last year he’d made her life a misery, and she didn’t understand why. She worked hard, was good at her job, and didn’t cause friction in the office, which left her wondering if it was as simple as a personality clash. This last instalment though went further than that; it was vindictive. He knew he was setting her up to fail, at the expense of her career and the companies, but maybe he just didn’t care. There’d been rumours when he’d taken over that he was a risk taker. This wasn’t a risk though; this was power trip, plain and simple.
Resigned to her fate, PJ stood up, intending to leave. The gentle thud of something hitting his desk had her looking back to find the company expense card sitting just out of her reach.
“I’m not sure what the limit is on that, but I guess you’ll find out when it stops working.”
Something constricted in her chest. “Are you … serious?”
She didn’t want to touch the card as he nudged it closer with the tip of his pen.
“Would be funny if I wasn’t, wouldn’t it?”
Without even waiting for her reply, Derrick turned back to his laptop, his fingers already racing over the keys while she stood there, utterly stunned by his arrogance. The tears were welling just like they had when she’d found Sam’s tie in her knicker draw this morning, but again she forced her emotions down. Sam didn’t deserve them and Derrick was a fuckwit. Both of them could go to hell.
For the next two hours, PJ trawled through Josh’s notes, desperately trying to familiarize with her new client, but by lunchtime she was none the wiser. At least twelve files lay sprawled across her desk; not counting the one that was wedged between the wall and the filing cabinet.
“Come on.”
Spinning around, PJ found Alice, the only person in the office who could appreciate what she was going through because Derrick had targeted her too.
“You need a break and we need to talk.”
Grabbing PJ’s hand, Alice practically dragged her down the hall and out the door.
“I just heard about Sam. Why didn’t you call me?”
It wasn’t like PJ hadn’t thought about it several times over the weekend, but Alice had only just clawed her way through her own devastating breakup, the situation almost exactly the same. The last thing PJ wanted was to trigger any sort of meltdown.
“You know why. It’s taken you months to get over Reid and what he did. I would never expect you to just sit there and listen to me rant on about how I never saw it coming or how much it hurts.” And it did.
“I don’t care. You should have called me. I would have come and drunk vodka with you and watched stupid eighties movies like we did after Reid screwed …” Alice teared up just like PJ knew she would.
“I’m fine Babe, really. You know as well as I do that things weren’t perfect. If we had ever managed to make it down the aisle, it would probably have ended in divorce so I suppose I should be thankful.”
“Oh no you don’t.” Stopping abruptly in the middle of the footpath, Alice turned to face PJ, all wild blonde hair and big blue eyes. “This is his fault and that fucking bitch-whore, who you should have ditched years ago. Don’t you dare make this about you.”
Smiling because she just couldn’t help it, PJ pulled Alice into a hug. “What am I going to do without you for three weeks?”
Alice laughed. “What am I going to do without you? The bastards going to be a nightmare.”
“We should leave, both of us at the same time when I get back from China.”
That comment had Alice stepping back to take a long, hard look at PJ.
“I will if you will. I fucking hate it here.”
“Me too.”
That was all it took for PJ to feel the first real sense of hope she’d felt in days.
“Right then, let’s grab a coffee and figure out how to destroy the prick before we leave.”
“Deal.”
****
Tuesday November 7th
At six am, on the dot, PJ stood, squinting up at the departure screen inside the International Departures lounge. Tiny numbers floating across the page too fast for her to read, but it was the shooting pain that followed that had her flinching, the first tell-tale sign of a migraine, or maybe she just needed a coffee?
Heading for the nearest stand, she ordered a latte, grabbing her phone while she waited. It was tempting to ignore it for the next twenty-one days, but PJ couldn’t. After her and Alice’s very enlightening conversation yesterday, she had headed back to the office, slightly more optimistic about her future. She’d even managed to sort through some of Josh’s documents, but when the opportunity to leave early and meet a client had arisen, she taken it, not returning to the office afterwards.
Now she was going to have to pay the price. Switching on her phone, she waited while five messages, all from Derrick dropped into her inbox. Reluctantly she opened the first one.
‘Where are you?!!!’
The second—‘Call me. We have details to discuss!!!’
The third message she deleted, utterly offended after the second line. The forth went the same way as the third and by this point her head was pounding, yet still managed a snigger at the fifth, which was such a literal masterpiece, she saved it while accepting her coffee.
Gulping down a mouthful, PJ headed for the newsagent across the terminal to get some painkillers. The bright fluorescent lights were forcing her to wince just to take the edge off, and she would have given anything at this point for the loud droning voice announcing the new arrivals to shut the fuck up.
As she moved closer to the counter, PJ searched her handbag, once again finding everything except her wallet. She didn’t want to hold anyone up but she really needed the drugs. When it was her turn, she took drastic means, emptying the contents of her bag in a neat pile. After the phone and chewing gum came keys and her makeup bag. Hair ties and notebook followed, then some tissues minus their cellophane wrapper, before finally she found her wallet. Grabbing it, she was just about to start loading everything back in when a tentative little hand landed on hers.
“You want me to check that for you?”
Glancing up PJ met sparkling green eyes framed behind retro inspired glasses, the flared points disappearing into coiled grey hair.
“Oh no, it’s used, I can throw it in the rubbish.” Grabbing the discolored tissue between her fingers, PJ wedged it in her pocket.
“No, Love, the Lotto ticket.” Flicking a second tissue aside, the shop assistant exposing the crumpled Lotto ticket.
“Sure, why not?” While PJ dug out a twenty-dollar note, the little lady turned back to her computer, flattening out the corners of the ticket before she fed it into her machine. For several seconds, her fingers raced over the keys then very slowly she leaned closer to the screen.
“Are you traveling alone?”
“I am.”
****
And that’s where I leave you. PJ’s story continues in—
A Little Band of Red is available from Amazon, All Romance and Lulu.
So I've been busy over the last few weeks, building the website, working through the final edit of 'A Little Band of Red,' and as promised, reworking the deleted scenes.
Now when I say deleted scenes, that's not really the case. At some point during the editing process it was suggested to me that I move the start forward about five chapters, subtly dropping all the events that took place in those pages in as back story, which I did.
It was the best thing I ever did for the novel, but all my beta readers were a bit sad to see that particular section of the story go.
I always hoped I'd get the chance to release it, and now with the novel only weeks away from being published, it seems like a great time to do it. So here you are, the original beginning.
I promise you won't be finding out anything that will ruin your experience with the full novel, you'll just know what happened to PJ in the last few days before her life changed forever.
The Deleted scenes
CHAPTER 1
Tears welled, spilling down Polly Jayne Lester’s cheeks. She was tempted to wipe them, at least then she’d be able to see properly, but only until the next ones fell. Ahead of her a petrol station came into view, the forecourt packed, cars lined up behind each and every pump, not that it mattered; she wasn’t stopping to refill, she was stopping because her chest was heaving so fucking hard, it ached.
If that was all PJ had to deal with, she probably would have kept driving, but behind every pounding heartbeat was something darker; something waiting, desperate to crush what remained of her dignity.
How could he have done this to her?
She’d given the man everything; the promise of a future, the secrets of her past, she’d shared her dreams, wrapping them carefully around his, and all for what? The ultimate betrayal.
Fucking wanker!
She was tempted to punch the dashboard, just to feel a different kind of pain from the one tearing her apart, but she didn’t, she slowly pulled into a car park instead. Yanking the door open, PJ climbed out into the rain. It was ten steps to the shop door and she was drenched by the time she walked through it, but at least the rain camouflaged her tears, her red-rimmed eyes and runny nose—not so much.
For a moment she stood surrounded by people, the incessant noise, the sickly sweet fumes of diesel, the scent of her ex-fiancé, which she could still smell on her skin if she turned her head fast enough.
An hour ago Sam would have been the same, her perfume lingering on his shirt from when she’d held him, kissing him goodbye like she always did before she left his place for work. And he’d kissed her back, even grabbed her ass, grinding against her in suggestive little thrusts, but clearly that erection had been for someone else.
Would she have known that he was cheating on her if she hadn’t forgotten her phone, returning to find him in bed with another woman, and not just any other woman, but PJ’s best friend? In hindsight, she should have seen it coming, the amount of time they spent together, the shared jokes that quietened down whenever anyone else got close. She didn’t consider herself a fool, but by fuck, she felt like one now.
The ache in her chest twisted into something so painful, PJ actually stumbled back a step, inadvertently entering the queue for the Lotto counter. The fact that she didn’t move out of it was a true indication of how devastated she really was. All she needed was a phone card and possibly some tissues. What difference did it make who served her?
Rummaging in her handbag produced a tampon, some electrical tape, then finally her wallet, but just as PJ was about to pull her hand back out, her phone rang, the last dredges of its charge being drained by Sam’s ringtone.
What the hell was she meant to say to him, or him to her for that matter? She didn’t want to hear his apology, or worse, his excuses about how she’d been working so much lately, not putting the effort into their relationship—ignoring him. They were fucking adults, shit happened. It wasn’t a reason to cheat. And as for Becky—PJ actually had to stop that thought right there, it was either that or scream.
For a moment, her vision faded, everything going black. There was just too much pressure behind her eyes and in her chest; her whole body locked tight but the release she so desperately needed never came. There would be no more crying in public today.
Glancing up, PJ found the bald middle-aged shop assistant staring at her with an odd kind of smile.
“You want a ticket, Love?”
No, she actually just wanted him to look at her face, not her boobs. “No, thank you. I want a twenty-dollar phone card and some of these.” Grabbing a packet of tissues, she handed over the cash, waiting as he entered the sale, but he seemed in no particular hurry to hand her change back.
“You sure? Biggest jackpot in New Zealand history this weekend, and it’s gotta go.”
So did she or he was going to have a hysterical female wailing in the middle of his petrol station. “Fine, just give me what everyone else got.”
Saliva pooled at the sides of his mouth as he grinned. “Could change your life, a win like that.”
Any more changes and she wouldn’t recognize it; she barely did now. Yesterday she’d had everything the average twenty-seven year old female wanted. A doting fiancé, plans for the future, friends she could trust, yet the reckless actions of the one person that was meant to love her had destroyed all of that.
Picking up the tissues, PJ pulled one out, blowing her nose before she was handed her little golden ticket, a handful of change and a top-up card.
“Thanks.” Her phone was ringing again, but she just ignored it as she worked her way back out onto the forecourt. It took forever to find her keys and even longer for her hands to stop shaking, but they had by the time she pulled back onto the motorway.
Half an hour later she was calm as she walked into the office, her eyes no longer red, her cheeks no longer flushed. Her heart was still beating a little to fast, but that was to be expected because it honestly felt like it had been torn in two. Switching off her cell phone, PJ dropped it in her bag; she also flicked her landline to call minder. If she could just get through the day without having to deal with Sam or Becky, or any of her well-meaning friends, who no doubt knew all about the final humiliating demise of her relationship, she could deal with this, in her own way and in her own time.
When the door slammed behind her though, heavy footsteps pounding up the hallway, she knew it was never going to be that easy. Sam wasn’t the only man capable of turning her life upside down. Derrick, her boss, had been doing it all year. The man was an asshole, hell bent on seeing her fail in every task he put in front of her. The fact that she hadn’t yet, just seemed to make it worse.
CHAPTER 2
Firmly shut behind the safety of her front door, PJ slid the deadbolt home. Her workday hadn’t been quite the nightmare she’d anticipated as Derrick’s attention had been elsewhere. With her desk situated right outside his office, she’d been privy to the heated conversations that had kept him busy while he tried to sort out some major crisis, and PJ supposed to him, it probably was. One of her co-workers who was meant to be leaving for China the following week had been hospitalized with pneumonia, leaving Derrick very much in the lurch.
Normally seeing him so stressed would have amused her, a sort of poetic justice, but not today. PJ was just too overwhelmed by her own problems to care.
Picking up the grocery bags, she wandered down the hall, ignoring the flashing light by the phone as she headed straight for the kitchen and the nearest bottle of wine. Pouring a glass, she sat at the bench. The first mouthful thankfully went straight to her head, the second also.
Two glasses later, she’d unpacked the groceries, consumed some truly uninspiring food and managed to completely ignore the answer machine every time she’d walked past it, but she couldn’t anymore. Hitting the small red button, she waited the three agonising seconds it took for the message to play. The conceited male voice that filled the hallway wasn’t the one she was expecting; it was so much worse.
‘… the China deal, Lester. I’m sending you.’
“What. No!”
Derrick couldn’t be serious. PJ was a garment technologist for fucks sake, she dealt with fabric and designs, not sales and contracts. Yes, she was more than capable of doing it, but not at this level, and not in China. Josh, the sales rep in question had been in contact with the clients for months in preparation for this trip. If Derrick were honest to God serious, this would give her four days to prepare.
That wasn’t what worried her though, it was the thought of traveling alone, to a place where she didn’t speak the language or understand the culture. The whole scenario was so far out of her comfort zone; she could already feel the tight, constricted grasp of a panic attack.
Hitting the button with far more force than was needed, PJ deleted his message then emptied her glass, the alcohol burning all the way down. She was tempted to grab the bottle; instead she climbed to her feet and headed to the bathroom. Getting drunk wasn’t going to solve anything.
While she slowly fumbled through her nightly routine, PJ tried not to look in the mirror, but it was impossible. Everything about her looked dull and lifeless, from her light brown eyes to her messy blond hair. Even her cheekbones seemed far more pronounced than they had yesterday and her usually plump lips were drawn, rough from where she’d bitten them to stop herself crying. Quite simply, she looked like a wreck and three weeks in China feeling stressed and anxious wasn’t going to help, or maybe it would?
Stepping away from everything she knew might be exactly what she needed; the chance to reassess what was important to her because there was no going back. Her relationship with Sam was over, her friendship with Becky too. Her career was at a crossroad, not going anywhere yet demanding so much for the privilege, and something had to give. She’d be damned if it was her.
****
Several times during the night PJ woke up, reaching for Sam, just wanting to—and then she’d remembered, the full color, surround sound flashbacks appearing right behind her eyes, of Becky’s naked ass grinding above him, her high-pitched moans, his low grunts.
She’d contemplated getting up and emailing him, while her anger was still raw, scathingly so, but she’d decided against it, opting to take a sleeping pill instead.
Eight hours later on the flip-side of that decision, PJ felt great. Well, not great but better.
After a shower and breakfast, she headed out the door with a list of things she was going to need for her impending trip.
The evidence of yesterday’s meltdown lay scattered over the passenger seat of her car, not that she could remember upturning her handbag, but she must have. Grabbing her lipstick, chewing gum, and a beaded bracelet that always pulled the hairs on her arm; PJ shoved them back in her bag, about to zip it up when she spotted one last item. Prying the crumpled Lotto ticket out from between the seats, she stuffed it back in as well.
Traffic was quiet, which was rare for Auckland, so PJ took her time, avoiding not only Sam’s suburb, but Becky’s also. After finding a park, she grabbed a coffee then spent the next hour aimlessly wandering the streets until eventually she ended up outside a shop she’d always been too self-conscious to enter. Not today though. Two steps, a deep breath and she was in. With a quick glance around to make sure she didn’t recognize anyone, PJ made her way to the top of the first aisle.
Overhead lights bounced off PVC, lots and lots of PVC and mannequins, wearing figure-hugging outfits with explicit cut-outs. One of them had her fingers curling, wanting to explore so she did. The black latex cat suit had a full-face mask with tiny slits at the nostrils and a slash across the mouth, but it was the cut-out holes at the nipples that PJ touched. Sliding lower, she ran her fingertips along the zip that ran from the belly button to the crotch.
Her own fantasies had taken her to many places, but tight constricting outfits had never been one of them, so she headed further down the aisle until she found a small notice board covered with posters. As PJ scanned them, one grabbed her attention. With its immaculately formed black handwriting, it was a work of art, exquisite in its simplicity, erotic in its content. She read it line by line, twice, her thighs clenching, her knickers getting damp.
‘Master Lucas’ was looking for a new girl. No previous experience in the lifestyle was required because he preferred to mould his slave to his own needs. The list of abbreviations that followed made no sense at all. The next item was a large glossy poster advertising an event at a club that PJ had never heard of. Five huge men wearing tight black pants leaned against a bizarre piece of wooden furniture, all of them sporting the same harsh facial expression. Blatantly visible behind them on a wall was a massive display of whips and floggers, paddles and canes.
Spinning on her heels, PJ found the real thing behind her. With a tentative step, she reached out and touched one. The flogger was beautifully made, black and red leather woven intricately around the handle, but it was the strands that she stroked, her mind drifting as the soft texture brushed over her fingers. She’d always wondered what it would feel like to be struck, on the back of her thighs, her ass—her breasts, and maybe it was just the location, or the fact that she was completely surrounded by every conceivable kind of sex toy, but for the first time ever, PJ followed that fantasy, seeing her naked body bent at the waist, her wrists secured, her thighs wide, bound and—“Ahh.”
A needy little sigh escaped her, but it was the distinctly male huff that had her turning back to find a tall, dark haired man standing directly behind her. Light green eyes, deep set under a slash of black brows followed her hand as it fell to her side.
“It’s lovely that one, has a real snap at the end.”
“Pardon?”
He smiled, flashing a little too much teeth for PJ’s liking.
“Have you ever been flogged, Pet?”
“No.” With a rapidly increasing pulse, PJ took a step back.
“You’re curious though, aren’t you?”
If she was, she certainly wasn’t about to tell the rather creepy stranger who appeared to be stripping her clothes off with his eyes. “No.”
He laughed, actually threw his head back and laughed.
“If you say so.”
In a rush, PJ headed further down the aisle. She could feel him watching, his gaze hot and heavy as she rounded the corner to find some more familiar objects. A myriad of vibrators and dildos lined the shelves, but she knew what she wanted and found it easily. Grabbing the bright pink Dorcel vibrator, she wedged it under her arm and kept browsing.
After some serious blushing and deep calming breaths, she approached the counter just as a woman appeared from a side door carrying an armful of books, the top couple slowly sliding off. Dropping her items on the counter, PJ reached to steady the teetering pile.
“Thanks.” The woman smiled. “Thought I’d bitten off more than I could chew.”
Carefully she pushed the stack to one side before picking up PJ’s items.
“Good choice. I have one of these and I love it.”
“Well, anything’s got to be better than what I’ve just had.” Ohh, God that sounded bitchy, but it was true. Sam had been a monumental let down on all fronts, not that she was bitter.
While she waited, PJ glanced over at the pile of books. The cover was beautiful with its silver handcuffs, casually lying on a plaited leather whip and a coil of silk rope, all three displayed in front of an imposing black door. Embossed across the top in heavy black font was the title, ‘The best kept secrets, ten clubs you never knew existed.’
“Is that for real?” Tentatively touching the book like it might bite, PJ opened it.
“Ah yeah, it’s not for sale though, not to the general public anyway.”
“Oh.”
“Okay, let me rephrase. It’s not for sale to crazies or Christians, these are all pre-orders for our bondage groups. It’s like the bible of the world’s most exclusive clubs.” All wild black hair and eyeliner, the woman leaned closer, a coy little smile curving her bright pink lips. “Funny thing is, we sell it to them, but none of them will ever get through those doors.”
“Why?” God, she sounded naïve but PJ really wanted to know.
“They’re all exclusive, money talks in those scenes. They set the membership fees through the roof so only a certain caliber of society can join, then they screen them from head to toe so only the gorgeous, rich people get to play.”
“Fair enough, I suppose.” As PJ flicked over the first few pages, she was instantly struck by the opulence of the scene before her, the staged rooms, the ominous lighting focusing on a single piece of furniture that looked like it was designed to torment, and probably was. That fact didn’t seem to stop her heart rate, which increased of a sudden.
“If you want one, you can buy one. You don’t look like you’re going to be spray painting their front doors anytime soon.”
Closing the book before any other unexpected visceral reactions struck her, PJ smiled. She wasn’t usually this highly strung, but then again it had been a hell of a week.
“Is that what they’re worried about?” Her items, now bagged were placed in front of her.
“Uh huh. Certain people.” The woman studied PJ, her gaze openly critical, “find the whole lifestyle offensive. Some famous faces have been named and shamed when technically that’s what they’re paying for, the right to go somewhere, close the door and become the person they really want to be, even if it’s only every third Saturday of the month.”
Handing over her credit card, PJ said nothing when a copy of the book was slipped into her bag, the exuberant price no doubt added to her bill.
“Each to their own, I say.”
PJ was still thinking about her intense reaction to the images in the book when she got home. But that distraction was quickly over shadowed by another more depressing one when she opened the door to find the answering machine flashing once again. Her first thought was Sam, possibly calling as he’d stood on her doorstep this morning, wondering where the fuck she was. Her next thought was Becky, although deep down, PJ knew her self-centred, two-faced ex-best friend would never take responsibility for what she’d done. This would be no different.
Her hands were actually shaking when she hit the button, her legs too as Derrick’s monotone drawl boomed around her hallway, ranting about details and dates, sales projections, visas and flights. It was the final nail in her coffin because as terrified as she was about taking this trip, she simply couldn’t afford not to. With a mortgage to pay and her weekly bills, she was trapped, financially tethered to the wanker until she could secure another job. Refusing to let that depressing thought take hold, PJ picked up her bags and headed for the kitchen, for wine … or possibly the vodka.
CHAPTER 3
Lying in bed on Sunday morning after a truly depressing Saturday night, PJ felt calm, surprisingly so considering the state she’d been in after Derrick’s message. But even now as the details started to play back through her head, the ramifications of each one causing her heart to beat a little faster and her head to hurt as the pressure once again built, she tried to push her concerns aside. No good was going to come from working herself into a state. She was a level headed, competent woman for God’s sake, she could do this!
When it couldn’t be avoided any longer, PJ climbed out of bed. The washing basket was full and the floor needed vacuumed. After a piece of toast and a coffee, she attacked both tasks. It was a welcome distraction, working her way around the house, tidying things up and pulling back curtains.
Within an hour she had the whole thing done, her lounge pristine and bathed in sunlight.
Stacked high in front of a large window facing the rear of her property was a huge pile of cushions that had always been her favorite spot to stretch out naked with Sam and—“Fuck.”
A crippling wave of misery appeared out of nowhere, slamming into PJ. He was everywhere in her home, his clothes still in the dryer, his toothbrush still in the bathroom. Those things she could remove, and would along with the rubbish before she left for China, but the memories were another thing, much more intrusive and she didn’t want them here anymore.
Without questioning why, PJ headed for the bedroom, collecting several items including the half eaten bar of chocolate she’d consoled herself with last night. Returning to the cushions, she dropped down onto them. The vibrant orange silk was blissfully warm as she stretched out with her new book balanced on her knees. She’d planned on saving it for her flight, so rather than spoil all the fun she skipped the intro and went straight for chapter one.
The photo was glossy; charcoal walls softly accented by a massive chandelier. And there were other things too, chains hanging from the ceiling, and handcuffs, thick silver ones. Her hands were shaking, just a little, when she rubbed them down her thighs, the denim all of a sudden feeling abrasive and in the way. More than anything, she just wanted to forget about the pain and heartache, the utter sense of betrayal Sam had caused her. She wanted to feel normal again and right now, normal was insisting she strip off her jeans, grab her new toy and find a happy place, one that didn’t revolve around her ex-fucking-
fiancé.
Sliding the book from her knees, PJ flicked open the fly of her jeans, easing first one leg out and then the other. The heat of the sun was quickly matched by the slow simmer of anticipation, arousal, and months of unsated lust. Her T-shirt followed her jeans, her bra too, both carelessly flung on the floor before her thighs fell apart, her eyelids fluttered shut. With a gentle touch, she ran a fingertip across her bottom lip, coating it in moisture then moving lower, one hand gliding down over her breast while the other delved between flesh already slick.
Toying with her nipple, she spread the wetness, which cooled instantly as her fingers danced, her skin drawing taut a second before she pinched. PJ groaned, low and husky as a sharp burst of pain fired straight from her breast down to where her fingers slid easily in, out, in again, a little harder, a little faster. It felt absolutely divine, but she needed more.
Grabbing one of her vibrators, she peeked down to see which one, her new eight inches of bright pink rapture. Dropping it beside her, she reached for her other one. Not quite as thick or as long, it was probably the sensible starting point. PJ clicked it on.
Slowly, because teasing felt so good, she trailed the tip over her nipple, circling several times and pressing hard then she moved lower, over her tummy and along the curve of her hip, down to her clit.
“Ahhh.”
As her back arched, her heals dug into the floor, thighs falling even further apart. Her mind wandered to big hands, dark eyes and a fantasy that up until this point, she’d always denied herself, but not today. If her reality could become a nightmare then her dreams could become true. All she had to do was lie back and let them.
Cool satin brushed PJ’s knees as she was pushed forward, a hand on her neck before fingers twisted roughly in her hair. Beneath her, the man reared up, capturing her lips. She gasped as his tongue thrust deep, his taste filling her mouth: whiskey, chocolate, midnight and spice. She wanted more, needed it.
Behind her, coarse hands smoothed down the inside of her legs, nudging her knees further apart before she felt the heavy weight of large masculine thighs pressing up hard between hers. Despite the grip on her hair, she turned, desperate to see the face of at least one of the men who had her trapped.
Darkness softened the details but she could still make out his short black hair, cropped but not shaved, and his stubble, a dense line shadowed along his jaw. Above that, his lips curled into a smile that was all kinds of wicked.
“Hmmm, well aren’t you just a pretty sight?”
Those words, in that voice, had PJ gently rocking against the vibrator. She’d heard them a thousand times before. This was the fantasy that played through her mind in those precious few seconds before her climax stole her away. There’d been others over the years, fleeting fascinations that she’d had, unfulfilled desire, but none of them had claimed her like this one did.
Easing the toy out of her pussy, PJ pressed it hard against her clit, grinding back and forth while she reached for her other vibrator. A second gentle hum filled the room, getting louder as she turned up the dial, her hips rocking, thighs widening even further. They were waiting for her in the darkness, behind her closed eyes as she worked the thick pink vibrator inside, pressing down for a second over the little spot that always drove her wild and it did but not as much as—
Crack.
The hand that slapped her ass took her breath away; it was so sharp and unexpected. Just as she was about to protest, her hair was caught, her head tugged down. Intense, sensual brown eyes stared into hers a second before she was kissed with such devastating skill that she gave up, gave in, just let the man she straddled take over. With a lazy caress he lapped at her then nipped when she attempted to kiss him back.
“Uh uh. You don’t get to do anything unless we tell you to. Understood?”
Oh yes, she understood perfectly. She was just to overwhelmed to respond.
“Answer me.”
The deep gravelly voice of her fantasy lover teased her lips, the rough edges of his comment beautifully smoothed out as he chuckled.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good.”
Crack—Another slap struck her backside, same place, just harder.
“This gorgeous ass is gonna burn by the time I bury my cock in it.”
“Ohhh, God.” Just the thought had PJ moaning around the tongue thrusting into her mouth, her legs trembling as a surge of arousal swept through her. Hands gripped her hips, steadying her before she was dragged back against a rock-hard male groin. He felt massive, hot and heavy, his erection like steel as it eased between her ass cheeks.
In her bed of cushions PJ panted softly, her hips undulating back and forth, working the vibrator deeper. For a moment there was pain, a sharp blast that burned through her in waves, but it was gone before she knew it, completely overridden by an unholy surge of lust.
Crack.
“Ouch!”
“Are you wet, Baby, at the thought of two men fucking you?”
Warm breath tickled her neck, his stubble scraping over her shoulder and down, only to pull away.
Crack—The other cheek this time, fire converged somewhere in the middle.
“Oh, God, yes.”
The hot, heavy thighs rubbing against her backside moved away, a finger taking their place. Starting at the small of her back he stroked his way down her ass, probing and pressing then slowly sliding lower till he found what he was searching for.
“Fuck you are, aren’t you?”
Grunting, he plunged his finger inside her pussy, quickly adding a second with a vigorous twist. The hand gripping her hair eased off, allowing her to finally lean back enough to take a good look at the man below her. He was beautiful, his scruffy brown hair tipped lighter on the ends where it curled against his neck and his big brown eyes were exquisite, captivating as he stared up at her. Long, thick lashes lay against olive skin, his broad high cheekbones cutting a savage line across his incredibly handsome face, and that was before he smiled as he reached for her breasts, lifting them up to his mouth. She just stared, her own eyes wide, her body poised, waiting for the moment when he touched her.
“Ahhh.”
Wet heat surrounded her nipple, his tongue flicking roughly before he sucked her deep.
“Yes, yes, God, yes.”
Crack—Another stinging blow hit her ass hard enough to jolt her forward.
“Did I say you could speak?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You will be.”
Crack, crack, crack.
For an agonizingly long moment, slaps rained down, landing on first one cheek and then the other, all the while his fingers still pumped in, out, in—deeper. When he stopped, gentling his touch to a caress, PJ tried to calm down, but his finger was moving again, trailing a path along her center to settle right over the one place that had her heart pounding with fear. No one had ever touched her there. She waited, her fingers clenching the sheets and her back rigid until an unexpected blast of pain shot through her breasts. Sharp teeth clamped down over her nipple before his tongue swept lower, lashing the underside. Stubble chased the same course, his chuckle rumbling, hot breath over wet flesh.
She quivered, desperately trying to claw back some control, but they’d hijacked her body. Her hips undulated, working her breasts over one man while she rocked shamelessly back against the other. Mesmerized, she watched her nipple being captured, dimples flashing a second before his teeth bit again.
“Ah Jesus, please.”
The fingers at her backside vanished for a second, a cold wetness taking its place.
“You’re tight, Baby. You might want to relax or else this is gonna hurt.”
Relax, she could barely think. The unnerving pressure against her ass was back and she couldn’t help but fight, her muscles locking tight, her back arching. In the end he still won though, his finger pressed inside her, twisting, retreating, pressing in again. The feeling of fullness was so overwhelming, her breathing deteriorated into a series of short, sharp pants.
“You like that, don’t you? I can feel you trembling.”
Did she like it? She honestly didn’t know. Her nipples were being tormented, licked and bitten, sucked and tugged and the fingers pumping inside her pussy were relentless, rubbing over places that had her coiled so fucking tight, she was about to fall apart. As glorious as all that was, none of it over took the other sensation, the one that was so deep, it staked a claim all over her.
Crack, crack.
“Answer me. Do you like that?”
Inside her, fingers dragged past each other, knuckles grinding, barely separated by the finest layer of flesh. PJ shivered, her legs weak, her head falling forward.
“Yes, oh, God, yes.”
Hands cupped her face, turning her back for a kiss. Her beautiful dark haired lover speared roughly into her mouth with a fierceness that matched his partner. They were everywhere, pinching her breasts, fingering her ass, filling her pussy. The sensations left her spinning, lost in a kaleidoscope of arousal that was so vivid and intense, it eclipsed everything.
Between her thighs a calloused finger stroked over her clit in tight little circles, not enough but too much all at the same time. Desperately, she twisted her hips, searching for more, needing it but instead he stopped.
“No.” It was a whimper this time, hidden inside a kiss.
Behind her the bed dipped, the solid weight moving away only to come straight back, closer, his knees nudging hers further apart, his hands pushing her down.
The long, hard length of an erection pressed against her stomach and the fingers were back, two, maybe three pushing inside her ass, thrusting gently. Somewhere in the last few minutes the feeling of fullness had changed from vastly uncomfortable to strangely stimulating.
“Ohhh, more.”
Both men laughed, then she was shifted, her ass raised slightly, her shoulders pulled down, wider still with the knees until she felt his cock easing between her folds. Hands gripped her hips, one from above, pinning her steady and two from below, locking her in place. All three of them stilled, suspended in some kind of exquisite anticipation, then she was pushed down, hard.
“Oh fuck!”
Her cry was piercing, shrill to the ears, yet there was a depth to it, so much more than pain and surprise. There was longing in the noise just like there was in her body, if only she could grab it and hold on tight.
A hand cupped her face forcing her to gaze down into those beautiful, brown eyes.
“Do you feel that lover? You’re mine and I’m going to fuck you till I’ve had enough.” So dark and so sensual, his voice rolled through her before he pulled out only to drive straight back in and she felt every inch sliding into her, the heat of him, the size; all of it was perfect.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, I feel … ahhh—you.”
Twisting in her pillows, PJ moaned—loud, too far gone to care what the neighbours might think. Her body was on fire with a delicious kind of heat that roared up and down her leg, over her tummy. Even her breasts, which she’d long ago abandoned were still throbbing, but they wouldn’t be for long.
Crack— “And me, Baby, when I work my way into that tight ass of yours, how do you think that will feel?”
His voice whispered over her shoulder, his breath tickling her hair but it was the promise in his comment; the threat had her trembling with an urgent need.
Crack— “Tell me.”
His hands glided around to her stomach, encircling her waist, his torso pressing hard against her back then he lifted her, shunting her forward. The fingers in her ass slid free and she instantly registered the loss until her lover below, thrust upwards.
“Ahh, Christ.”
With a long, deep stroke he arched his hips off the bed, burying himself inside her. Suspended above him, PJ was helpless as he drove into her hard and fast, again and again while she fought against the agonizing pleasure.
“Oh God, oh God.” She panted and thrashed. “I can’t take … ohhh, you’re … too … big.” Dropping her head, she got a glimpse of rippling abs, flexing under smooth golden skin, before her head was sharply yanked back up. A hand fisted in her hair, forcing her to focus on dark mesmerizing eyes.
“Shhh, just let it happen. We’ll take care of you.”
Rocking gently, oh so gently but with such wicked intent, she felt the man behind her, the slow slide of his cock sending shivers racing up her spine and down her thighs. She knew it was going to happen, she just couldn’t hold onto her fear long enough to care.
Flesh slapped flesh as the pressure inside her continued to mount, higher, higher, pleasure collided with pain, pain collided with pleasure, the two merging perfectly to create a beautiful kind of chaos. Short, intense blasts of desire fired through her body, exploding in her core as she got fucked. She wanted to bear down, meet his thrusts, but the arm around her waist was crushing, holding her completely still, forcing her to take everything he gave her and she did.
“Oh God, oh I’m gonna—”
He pumped into her harder, faster, deeper.
“Not yet, Baby, don’t you dare come. The funs just getting started.”
All movement stopped, her lover easing out. He was gorgeous when he smiled, even more so when he stroked her cheek, catching a damp strand of hair, and tucking it behind her ear. She couldn’t resist sweeping a finger across his face, loving the curve of his lips as he grinned.
“That’s my girl.”
The chuckle behind them broke their moment, not that she’d forgotten what was waiting for her, or who.
“Oh, I think she’s about to become my girl, don’t you?”
Hands locked tight, two below gripping her hips, two above spreading her cheeks, then the burning sensation hit as he pressed forward, slow and steady, unrelenting.
“Oh, God.”
Crack—The slap had her jerking up, turning around to find dark eyes, narrowed with intent. The strain on his face was obvious, but it was nothing compared to the strain on her body, which was easing as he pulled back. Another dribble of cold lubricant slid down her backside then it all started again, gently in, slowly out, in, out.
“Relax, Baby, it’ll only hurt for a minute then you’re gonna feel so fucking good.”
But as he pressed in again, deeper this time and holding for longer, the burn turned into a searing pain as both of them nudged forward, the man below just to distract her, the man behind to claim her, and he did, working till he was buried to the hilt. Moaning in ecstasy/agony, she didn’t know anymore, couldn’t tell, yet the feelings running riot through her body were exquisite. Her thighs clenched, her arms trembled; both men groaned then one of them spanked her hard.
“Oww.”
“You like to tease, Baby? Well so do I.”
With a gentle touch, his fingers grazed along her folds, gathering wetness then moving higher, rubbing softly over her clit, round and round, a little pinch, round and round, the friction building. Her resolve shifted from something tenacious to a complete and utter surrender.
“Ahhh fuck.”
One of them laughed, deep and husky, “Hmm, I think we will.”
It started slowly, one in, one out—in again.
“Ohh—God.”
Slumping forward, PJ found firm, moist lips parted and waiting, his sweet, rich taste filling her mouth as his tongue curled, drawing her deeper. And she went willingly; desperate for an anchor to stop her falling into everything she’d ever dreamed of.
Between one breath and the next, her kiss ended before gentle turned rough. Lips brushed her face, her back, kissing, licking, and she wanted to kiss back, to feel the tenderness but their rhythm was fierce, relentless and demanding.
“Ahh, Jesus.”
No slap followed that cry because PJ had said it out loud, in the lounge just as she’d thrust the vibrator inside. The dial was all the way up now and the result was intense, more so when she rolled the two toys together, one ravaging the outside while the other wreaked havoc of the most delicious kind on the inside.
The feeling of possession was sublime, the sound of hard flesh hitting wet flesh, even more so.
“Ah—fuck, so good, you feel so fucking good.”
Crack.
“Oww.”
Fingers gripped her hips, dragging PJ back as he slammed into her ass so hard; she felt it resonating right through her body. Sweat ran over her breasts, and her hair was everywhere, clinging to her neck and her face as she was jolted back and forth.
The lazy drag of a tongue swept over her throat then along her jaw. PJ turned, kissing him just as he thrust deep, and she fell apart.
All of them groaned, high and low, hungry and desperate while she convulsed, everything inside her clamping down like a vice. Sensuous primal patterns dissolved into desperate thrusts with no finesse or no rhythm, just a slamming of bodies as she came in an exquisite explosion of pleasure.
From head to toe PJ trembled and still they fucked her, hard and fast, relentless in their need for release. Their groans surrounded her, so masculine and raw, one thrusting in, one pulling out, then both of them slammed in together and held, grunting and jerking, coming in a hot rush. Her hair was caught in a loose grip, her head tugged down for a kiss that was slow and lazy, while other lips slid along her neck, teeth nipping playfully, capturing her earlobe.
“Beautiful, Baby, you were so fucking beautiful.”
Sometime later, much, much later, PJ woke. Feeling blissfully relaxed she finished the housework, made some lunch and then spent the rest of the afternoon searching job sites. If the last few days had taught her anything, it was that change was eminent. Things couldn’t continue in her life the way they were. She’d fallen into a rut without even realising it, accepting Sam’s half-heart attempt at a relationship as the best she was going to get, and Derrick’s daily harassment as the norm, some sort of fucked up barometer to judge her worthiness. None of it was healthy and now she could see that, it was time to put a stop to it, starting tomorrow.
CHAPTER 4
“Come in, PJ.”
Someone sounded like they’d had a rough weekend, but as PJ didn’t care in the slightest, she didn’t ask. Moving to the chair opposite Derrick’s desk, she sat down. Being a classic egotistical office maniac, he sat staring at her from a vantage point at least six inches higher, and he was in no hurry at all as he casually slid a piece of paper across the desk.
“You leave tomorrow at ten, flying straight into Hong Kong. I’ve rescheduled two of the four meets for you there. The other two are in Hunan, but you’ll have to get an emergency visa from the New Zealand Embassy before you can fly on to China, and that might take a week.”
Derrick smiled, sneered, something happened to his face that she couldn’t quite figure out.
“There might be some issues with the domestic tickets Josh had organized. They weren’t overly keen to transfer them over to you, but I guess you’ll just have to deal with that shit when you’re there.”
With a sense of mounting dread, PJ scanned the list of flights and locations in front of her, but after the third unrecognizable place name she gave up, folding the itinerary in half. The last thing she wanted to do was look at Derrick because she’d never been good at hiding her emotions, and right now her contempt for him would be written all over her face.
She honestly hated the man. At every opportunity over the last year he’d made her life a misery, and she didn’t understand why. She worked hard, was good at her job, and didn’t cause friction in the office, which left her wondering if it was as simple as a personality clash. This last instalment though went further than that; it was vindictive. He knew he was setting her up to fail, at the expense of her career and the companies, but maybe he just didn’t care. There’d been rumours when he’d taken over that he was a risk taker. This wasn’t a risk though; this was power trip, plain and simple.
Resigned to her fate, PJ stood up, intending to leave. The gentle thud of something hitting his desk had her looking back to find the company expense card sitting just out of her reach.
“I’m not sure what the limit is on that, but I guess you’ll find out when it stops working.”
Something constricted in her chest. “Are you … serious?”
She didn’t want to touch the card as he nudged it closer with the tip of his pen.
“Would be funny if I wasn’t, wouldn’t it?”
Without even waiting for her reply, Derrick turned back to his laptop, his fingers already racing over the keys while she stood there, utterly stunned by his arrogance. The tears were welling just like they had when she’d found Sam’s tie in her knicker draw this morning, but again she forced her emotions down. Sam didn’t deserve them and Derrick was a fuckwit. Both of them could go to hell.
For the next two hours, PJ trawled through Josh’s notes, desperately trying to familiarize with her new client, but by lunchtime she was none the wiser. At least twelve files lay sprawled across her desk; not counting the one that was wedged between the wall and the filing cabinet.
“Come on.”
Spinning around, PJ found Alice, the only person in the office who could appreciate what she was going through because Derrick had targeted her too.
“You need a break and we need to talk.”
Grabbing PJ’s hand, Alice practically dragged her down the hall and out the door.
“I just heard about Sam. Why didn’t you call me?”
It wasn’t like PJ hadn’t thought about it several times over the weekend, but Alice had only just clawed her way through her own devastating breakup, the situation almost exactly the same. The last thing PJ wanted was to trigger any sort of meltdown.
“You know why. It’s taken you months to get over Reid and what he did. I would never expect you to just sit there and listen to me rant on about how I never saw it coming or how much it hurts.” And it did.
“I don’t care. You should have called me. I would have come and drunk vodka with you and watched stupid eighties movies like we did after Reid screwed …” Alice teared up just like PJ knew she would.
“I’m fine Babe, really. You know as well as I do that things weren’t perfect. If we had ever managed to make it down the aisle, it would probably have ended in divorce so I suppose I should be thankful.”
“Oh no you don’t.” Stopping abruptly in the middle of the footpath, Alice turned to face PJ, all wild blonde hair and big blue eyes. “This is his fault and that fucking bitch-whore, who you should have ditched years ago. Don’t you dare make this about you.”
Smiling because she just couldn’t help it, PJ pulled Alice into a hug. “What am I going to do without you for three weeks?”
Alice laughed. “What am I going to do without you? The bastards going to be a nightmare.”
“We should leave, both of us at the same time when I get back from China.”
That comment had Alice stepping back to take a long, hard look at PJ.
“I will if you will. I fucking hate it here.”
“Me too.”
That was all it took for PJ to feel the first real sense of hope she’d felt in days.
“Right then, let’s grab a coffee and figure out how to destroy the prick before we leave.”
“Deal.”
****
Tuesday November 7th
At six am, on the dot, PJ stood, squinting up at the departure screen inside the International Departures lounge. Tiny numbers floating across the page too fast for her to read, but it was the shooting pain that followed that had her flinching, the first tell-tale sign of a migraine, or maybe she just needed a coffee?
Heading for the nearest stand, she ordered a latte, grabbing her phone while she waited. It was tempting to ignore it for the next twenty-one days, but PJ couldn’t. After her and Alice’s very enlightening conversation yesterday, she had headed back to the office, slightly more optimistic about her future. She’d even managed to sort through some of Josh’s documents, but when the opportunity to leave early and meet a client had arisen, she taken it, not returning to the office afterwards.
Now she was going to have to pay the price. Switching on her phone, she waited while five messages, all from Derrick dropped into her inbox. Reluctantly she opened the first one.
‘Where are you?!!!’
The second—‘Call me. We have details to discuss!!!’
The third message she deleted, utterly offended after the second line. The forth went the same way as the third and by this point her head was pounding, yet still managed a snigger at the fifth, which was such a literal masterpiece, she saved it while accepting her coffee.
Gulping down a mouthful, PJ headed for the newsagent across the terminal to get some painkillers. The bright fluorescent lights were forcing her to wince just to take the edge off, and she would have given anything at this point for the loud droning voice announcing the new arrivals to shut the fuck up.
As she moved closer to the counter, PJ searched her handbag, once again finding everything except her wallet. She didn’t want to hold anyone up but she really needed the drugs. When it was her turn, she took drastic means, emptying the contents of her bag in a neat pile. After the phone and chewing gum came keys and her makeup bag. Hair ties and notebook followed, then some tissues minus their cellophane wrapper, before finally she found her wallet. Grabbing it, she was just about to start loading everything back in when a tentative little hand landed on hers.
“You want me to check that for you?”
Glancing up PJ met sparkling green eyes framed behind retro inspired glasses, the flared points disappearing into coiled grey hair.
“Oh no, it’s used, I can throw it in the rubbish.” Grabbing the discolored tissue between her fingers, PJ wedged it in her pocket.
“No, Love, the Lotto ticket.” Flicking a second tissue aside, the shop assistant exposing the crumpled Lotto ticket.
“Sure, why not?” While PJ dug out a twenty-dollar note, the little lady turned back to her computer, flattening out the corners of the ticket before she fed it into her machine. For several seconds, her fingers raced over the keys then very slowly she leaned closer to the screen.
“Are you traveling alone?”
“I am.”
****
And that’s where I leave you. PJ’s story continues in—
A Little Band of Red is available from Amazon, All Romance and Lulu.
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