Double-Crossed (15 page)

In her fantasy, they discussed her body. What they liked about it, what they thought they could use for their pleasure. Peter would make her remove her robe and stand naked except for her collar. He would encourage them to inspect her. Feel her breasts for weight and density, run their hands over her smooth stomach, and check her pussy for wetness with their fingers.

With the vibe buzzing strongly against the outside of her entire pussy, Marianne imagined Peter ordering her to bend at the waist, her back to the men, to allow them a good view of her wet, ready hole. Standing next to her, Peter would place his hands on her ass cheeks and spread them apart, so that each man had a clear view of the tunnel presented to them. Then Peter asked them, as casually as you like, who would take her first, here and now, and who would go second and third.

At this point in her fantasy, Marianne thrust mindlessly into the vibrations, allowing her orgasm to flow over her. The weightlessness and the heat engulfed her, causing breathlessness and a stretching out of her legs so that she felt as long as the bed itself. The wetness seeped out of her, collecting in clear fluid webs across the opening of her pussy. Even masturbating improved with Peter around for inspiration.

Feeling better than she had for a very long time, Marianne allowed herself to drift off into a postorgasmic stupor, quickly followed by a blissful slumber.

* * *

The next twenty-four hours were almost a blur for Marianne.

She woke in the morning to find that she'd overslept and only had an hour to be at her desk on time. The leap of fright she took threw her from the bed, disproportionate considering the nature of the concern, but in moments like that, no one is moderate in his or her behaviors. She took almost no time to get herself ready, thankful she'd spent so much time last night on looking good.

She walked into her building in George Street in the city, at the time she should have been sitting at her desk. A few moments the wrong side of nine wouldn't kill her, but she wasn't a woman who liked to be late. It grated on her nerves to be behind schedule. Usually, at thirty minutes early, Marianne felt on time. It gave her the opportunity for coffee, saying hi to people, and time to arrange and settle at her desk before she clocked in.

Once at her desk, Gary, the man who sat to her left and competed with her over everything, said, “Good afternoon. Big night?”

Ignoring the snide remark, she got herself organized as quickly as possible. While slurping his coffee, Gary made all sorts of noises about how good it was, capitalizing on her being too late to get one.

However, even this behavior couldn't get a rise out of her. Too many good feelings burst out of her to suffer over silly little worms like Gary.

Peter called at ten-thirty. Seeing his name on her cell screen, she rose in order to take the call outside. As she walked out of the office into the corridor, she could see Gary straining from his desk to get a look at her.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.” Her body almost wept at the sound of his deep, wonderful voice. “I hope you slept very badly without me.”

“Actually I didn't. I slept extremely well. I still think, however, that I have you to thank for that.”

“I hope it wasn't boredom,” he teased.

“Err, boredom? No. Somehow I don't think
that
is going to be among our challenges.”

She sensed his mood change.

“Marianne, I wonder if I could see you tonight?”

Marianne's heart leaped. “Yes, of course! But I thought we were out-of-bounds to each other until the hearing started?”

“I mean with my team. I need you to meet them, and I want to keep you off the streets. People will be watching you, and much depends on the way you behave.”

Marianne felt a little subdued by this remark as well as foolish for what she thought he meant.

“Oh, sure. That is fine. Will you drive me home? I catch the bus into work.”

“Yes. Again, we have to behave. As much as I want to rip your clothes off and teach you a lesson, we have to be good. They're already suspicious about the way I've been acting about you.”

What does that mea
n
? She decided she'd worry about it another time.

“Um, okay. It's fine. Pick me up from work when I'm done here. I was a little late today, and I've promised to stay an extra thirty minutes. Is six too late?”

“It's fine. I'll feed everyone at my place. There is an incredible laksa place just up from my house. Do you like laksa?”

“One of my favorites.”

“Great!” He paused and seemed to be carefully arranging the words coming up next.

“Marianne?”

“Yes, Peter.”

“I thought very carefully last night, and well, if you feel that this is going too fast, we can take it a little slower.”

Marianne gasped. “My God, we haven't even started. I think we need to be dating for at least a week and declaring feelings before I can say that we're going fast.” Marianne gave a cute giggle, and she heard Peter catch his breath. “If anything, right now, I think it's going too slow.”

“That's my girl.” She sensed relief in his voice.

Then something occurred to her. “That is, unless you are feeling differently. Is it getting tough for you?”

“Nothing about this is easy. However, I feel very strongly that I'm heading towards something big. I am sure of where we are, and I want it to go further. See how far we can take this kind of connection. I guess I'm a little worried about the dangers I may be putting you in.”

“I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself and have had to through all sorts of experiences that would probably make your beautiful black hair curl.”

She could feel him smile on the other end of the phone. “I know that you have, and I know that you can. Also, I know that I've taken up too much time in your workday. See you tonight at six.”

The click of the receiver told her he'd gone.

Chapter Eight

Peter arrived at the front of the building right at six. Marianne waited for him, looking sophisticated in her navy blue, tailored Filippa K suit and a red satin shirt. The hearing started the next day, and no one had approached her at all. To Peter, it looked like they were going to get this thing won over. Precisely the way he wanted it won, overall according to plan. As for his plans for Marianne, getting her to avoid detection and avoid any subpoenas to a possible trial seemed to be moving along smoothly.

He pulled up outside the building, and she stepped forward to draw open the door, not thinking to wait for him. She looked so confident and sure of herself. Peter couldn't help but visualize her bent at the waist pulling apart her lips for him so he could see deeply into her waiting hole. His cock started to swell. She sat her backside down into the front seat next to him and swung her legs in expertly.

“You know, that's how I'm always going to want you to hop into my car. Sometimes I may even want you to spread your legs a little to keep your arousal high and your focus on us.”

He loved the way she flushed when he spoke to her like that. That deep, sexual flush, not the foolish flush of a shy schoolgirl. Peter knew arousal when he saw it, and this woman responded like no other.

She turned to pull the door closed, then faced him, the flush in her cheeks still strong.

“Why, sir. If you keep talking like that I
am
going to be kept awake tonight.”

Peter smiled as he pulled into the flow of traffic.

“We'll hit my place in about ten minutes. Tonight shouldn't be too tough. They'll just want to run through certain procedures so you have your own role down pat over the next few days.”

“Are things going according to plan?”

“Yes. Better than we expected. No one's approached the idea of getting you to the hearing, and that's a Godsend. It means they don't think that you'll make much difference to their case, or that they've not actually found you as we thought they would.”

“It seems odd that they won't have me as a witness. Even though I don't want to be subpoenaed, frankly, I am surprised that I wasn't.”

“There are things they know. They know that Joe wanted to marry you, and they know that he would probably force you or hurt you if it got out that they need you. Remember this is about taxes. They want to get him on tax fraud. Now all they have is incorrectly applied GST for a small period. It is amazing they've gotten the hearing this far over such a small misdemeanor. It's likely the only reason they've successfully managed it is because of who Joe is. My guess is they think they can pursue it further, and they're saving you up as one of the big guns.”

“But you don't think that'll happen, do you? You think you can win the hearing.”

“I do. I am confident. However, everything in a case like this depends on the 'feel' of it. That's why the team wants to get to you tonight. You have to look confident and nonchalant about the whole thing.”

“I think I can get away with that.”

Peter pulled into the driveway of his apartment building. “Dressed like that, my darling, you can get away with anything.”

* * *

He loved the way she looked. She'd not disappointed him at any stage. Even though she didn't earn much, Joe must have decked her out in finery, and she had the good sense to hold onto everything when she left. Peter adored so many things about her, including the way she presented herself, keeping her clothing in good shape.

He hopped out, but she'd already opened her door and stood by the car by the time he got around the other side. She smiled at him as he took her hand and kissed it. He turned to see the door attendant straining to look across the car park at them.
He's never seen me bring a woman back here before
, Peter thought.
I can't quite believe that I am doing it, either
.

With an arm at the base of her spine, Peter guided her to the elevator. They got in together, and she smiled, deliciously gorgeous, at him.

Fuck, I should just take her here! Concentrate, Pete! Stay with i
t
!

The foolish excitement of showing off his home to her engulfed Peter. He felt playful, and he wanted desperately to have her approval. Moving ahead of her in the entry hall, he opened the door to his apartment, and stood back so that she could enter the house. He caught the slight breath of her scent as she walked past, and for the tenth time since he picked her up, he felt his cock stir.

He flicked the lights on behind her and heard her gasp.

“Oh, my goodness. Your home is beautiful. And harbor views. Can you turn the lights off just for a second? I want to see Sydney at dusk.”

Peter switched the lights off and moved up behind her. He wrapped his arms about her, and said, “Think of the nights we will have right here. In the dark together.”

He could feel her body melting into his, but he pulled his arms away and checked his watch.

“But our time is not now, lovely. They'll all be here in about twenty minutes, so I need your help. I'll order the laksas if you could grab the Semillon glasses out of the cabinet over there.”

Peter watched her behind as she bent forward and reached in for the glasses. Reminding himself again to be well behaved, he deliberately turned his back, dialed the number of the local noodle house, and ordered laksas for all of them.

They didn't have a lot of time, but Peter still wanted to prepare her for the evening. She needed to remember that he would not be acting like her boyfriend in front of this group of people, and he wanted to be sure she understood the way it had to be, just for tonight.

However, before she had all the glasses out, the doorbell rang. Peter walked up behind her and whispered, “Remember, they can't know just yet that we are planning a relationship. They know we're keeping close, but not that we intend sleeping together in the future.” She nodded her agreement, and he walked toward the entry hall.

Opening the door revealed Alan, Betty, and Derek. They'd all come from work together. Betty walked through the door first.

“Okay. We're here. Let's get this thing happening. You'd better have ordered food.” Betty walked directly up the corridor, after Peter's nod promising there would be food. Alan smiled vaguely at Peter as he entered, and Derek shuffled nervously until Peter virtually pulled him through the door.

Peter could hear the conversation as he approached. Betty really let Marianne have it. Betty's nasty little tests might hurt initially, but they sorted the wheat from the chaff brilliantly.

“So you're the woman who likes to sleep with gangsters, huh?” came out of Betty's mouth as Peter walked into the room.

“Betty, Alan, Derek, allow me to introduce you to Marianne, who is not going to be a witness for the prosecution.”

Derek let out a small cheer that drew such strong looks from Betty and Alan that he cringed, descending into the deepest shade of red.

Alan gave Marianne a quick, dispassionate look and said, “Well, let's get into it. We don't have all night.”

Peter had the three sit on the couch, giving Marianne a lounge chair opposite them, and he sat in one a little to the side of hers. He didn't want to give the impression they were together, but at the same time, he didn't want her to feel isolated and alone.

Marianne looked comfortable. Just at the moment, Peter found her hard to read, but he could tell that she still felt confident. She probably didn't expect so frosty a welcome, but Peter felt he had sufficiently warned her the night would be all business in order to spare her the danger of taking it all personally.

Betty started talking first. “We thought, at first, you and Peter in bed, spending the night together, reeked of sheer lunacy. Then, when Peter explained the strategy to us, we were happy to go along with it. Personally”—at this point, she looked at Peter, then back at Marianne—“in the cold light of day, I'm a little suspicious of it. I'm concerned you may be developing feelings for each other. Then I remember how many women Peter has fucked and how easily and quickly he lets them go, and I see that this time, you must actually be in on the joke. Think yourself lucky; none of his other lovers had the same courtesy. They found out the hard way that they were expendable.”