Maja stood and stared after the slight figure, the slender but well-toned figure as she moved ahead. “I am Aiyana. Aiyana Laughing Water, “said the woman in her throaty voice and Maja cleared her throat as she replied,
‘Yes,” in a squeak.
Maddie looked at her in some disgust and nudged her, forcing her to stumble ahead.
Schwartz’s house was a warm, welcoming place, not the large home of the Delano’s but this house seemed empty, lacking any lived-in feeling.
She trailed behind the exotic woman leading the way.
“James, your friend has turned up,” drawled the tall woman, turning her head of gleaming black hair to look at Maja, almost speculatively.
“Hey there!’ said Schwartz, smiling as he rose to his feet, looking as breathtakingly handsome as ever. He grinned at her but she could see the wariness in his eyes as he waved, indicating that she should sit down on one of the welcoming armchairs.
She sank down, looking nervously as Aiyana perched on the armrest of Schwartz’s chair.
He looked at her, sensing her discomfort, and said,
‘ Hey, Aiy, can you rustle up some coffee?’
The dark haired woman smiled slightly, almost pitying at Maja as she glided out of the room and Maja’s gaze followed her, enviously.
Then, she turned to Schwartz and spread her hands helplessly as she said,
“Magnus. I do …I don’t know where he is…’
*
Piers
He walked down the carpeted corridors of his Pappa’s new Club, mentally making a note to speak to him about the security measures to be taken on Opening Night. It was to be a gala affair and the rooms would be thrown open to the men and women who could afford to be here.
He stepped into the lift and headed to his room, the new office beside his father’s large suite of rooms and his office.
Even as he was entering, his sister barged in. she looked furious, with pink spots on her cheeks, signaling that she was in a rage. He sighed.
” Philippe…he is insufferable.’ she fumed, slamming the door behind her and pacing to and fro angrily. Piers smiled to himself with a sigh as he settled down behind his laptop, studying the phone as well.
“What’s it, sis?’ he asked as he checked his mail, an ear on her ramblings.
“He thinks I flirt with other men! I mean, how could he? The …’
Piers leaned back in his chair and grinned.
“But you do, Ria,” he said and she stopped in mid-stride. She had been pacing to and fro angrily now she stared, her mouth open before her eyes flashing, she came to him menacingly.
He raised his hands in surrender, laughing.
“Hey, hold on, Ria. But it’s true.’
And he went on,
“You do smile and simper when you speak to men, it’s nothing new.’
He grinned as she sank into the chair opposite, listening.
“It is not that you do it on purpose, Ria. But sometimes, men take it to be a signal.’ He watched her face as she thought of what he had said.
“Do I really?’ she said doubtfully but he knew that his sister would be thinking of what he had said. For what the Capo had told her was true. He knew that when they were at school and later, at Junior College together before they had chosen to go to separate universities, the boys in school had all felt that she was sending signals with her large, limpid grey eyes, and her dimpled smile, the way she moved when she walked and talked. Only Piers knew that it was not something she was aware of. And he was glad that the Capo had spoken to her about it.
*
Hila
She entered the gates and displayed her id card. No hassles here.
She was not nervous but a cold feeling of dread snaked up her spine as she walked into the Club, where the last touches of the construction were going on. She had been instructed to enter via the staff entrance but she had marvelled at the sheer size, the enormity of the building, like a large castle from the Middle Ages.
Another set of security people stood there, checking her bags, frisking her lightly but Hila was clever enough to make sure that her disguise was absolutely foolproof. She entered the hall and smiled to herself.
She was in.
***
Proserpina
I was preparing to leave when my husband entered the bedroom where I had just laid our littlest son down, after feeding him. The little fellow seemed insatiable and my nipples were tender.
I straightened and smiled at my lover, the only man I would ever love, as he came forward. He looked distinguished, his silver hair gleaming for now it was dark and the lights in the room had come on. He was in a suit, one that had been expressly tailored to fit his muscular physique, and the sight of him, the way he carried himself as though he owned the room, made me weak for him, all over again.
*
I stepped to him, enfolded immediately in his large, warm embrace, tilting my face to his, accepting the hard kiss of possession he planted on my mouth, tasting the slightly metallic tinge as he bit my lower lip. Lucien carried his singular musky aroma and I felt the wetness pooling between my legs. Moaning softly, I squeezed my eyes shut. Just the smell of the man turned me into a hot mess!
As he put me away, breathless and wet with the need for him, he growled,
‘Get the f*ck out of here, woman. I shall be late tonight, but I want you waiting for me.’
And as though he could not resist, he gripped my hair, taking a fistful in his meaty hand, and kissed me again, the hungry mouth moving down my throat, to my heaving, fleshy mounds. Moving the neckline away roughly, he took a nipple in his mouth and groaned,
‘Ah, woman…’ and he teased my sore nub with his hot tongue, till I was clutching his shirt mindlessly, head tossed back, almost begging him to take me.
“Lucien, I whispered, huskily,’ Please…please…’