Double-Crossed (4 page)

The man pumping from behind groaned out, “Oh, yes,” as he watched the woman he fucked suck on Anna's hard, wet clit as she straddled his mate's cock. He reached forward to grasp Mae Lin's dangling breasts, as she pushed back, impaled nicely on his dick. The other man still pulled on Anna's nipples, but no doubt he could feel the sizzling tongue as it missed its mark every so often and sloshed hot and wet over his cock and his balls.

Marianne had her legs spread wide now, and she strummed hard on her clitoris. She kept the images well in her sight, and she could feel the responses of her tingling nerves taking over her senses. The aching feeling in her hole remained, but she could only get her fingers to do this one thing. She stretched her legs out hard, curling her toes and feeling the muscles contract in her legs all the way to the base of her spine.

Closing her eyes, she imagined the blond man pushing her on her back and roughly pulling her legs apart. She saw Mae Lin squatting over her own mouth, Marianne using her tongue to fuck her hard. The feeling of that rock-hard dick slamming into her, combined with the erotic wildness of the pussy leaking into her face, brought her to the most thrilling brink of orgasm. A masculine voice said, “Fuck, yeah! Come, baby!”

It started from a long way off. Hovering on the brink of ecstasy, Marianne opened her eyes to see the blond man slide his cock out of Anna sitting astride him, only to have Mae Lin greedily suck and lap the pussy juice off it with her mouth. At this point, Marianne burst over the edge. The image and her fingers blurring on her clit were just too much. She exploded onto her own hand, thrusting into the air and feeling the warm delicious fuzziness envelop her. She closed her eyes and let the heat wrap her up and make her feel sexually alive, safe, and free.

Soon she opened her eyes to see the tape still playing. Now that she'd come, she'd lost interest in it, though the thrill of what she'd just done remained.

“Mmm,” she moaned aloud. “Fuck, that was so nice.” She leaned forward, took a tissue from the container, and wiped her dripping pussy with it.

She pulled her panties up her legs and arranged her skirt appropriately. Soon the film turned itself off, and she realized she'd been in the store for almost half an hour. She felt so good. A hot sweetness flooding through her made her feel as though she were floating. Making sure she'd tidied up properly, she gingerly opened the door to the little booth in which she'd hidden herself away from the world. No men passed in the small corridor, so she stepped out. Sure enough, the other booths remained closed, and she removed herself undetected. Walking out carefully, she made her way into the open area of the store. Pretending to examine some vibrators, she grabbed the chance to see who else might be there. Once she knew no sleazy guys would interrupt, she felt free to look around.

Mulling over Jen's words with postorgasmic confidence, Marianne decided she would look hot in a tight dress like that silvery one. It reminded her of the dresses the women wore in porn films, and they looked gorgeous. Marianne would never wear anything like that out in public. It would be a little luxury to turn her on at home, even if that seemed a little strange.

Oh, to hell with it
, she decided.
Why not? It might be fun, and I deserve a little treat. After all, tonight starts a completely new life for me
.

Marching straight to the counter, she declared to Jen, “Thanks, love. Great as usual, and I believe you may be right. I'm going to take that dress.”

* * *

Straight out of the club, Peter couldn't see Don at first. Breathing hard, terrified of what he could possibly see if he found them and terrified that he might not see Marianne and Don at all, he scanned the streets around him. He turned left and started a run up Darlinghurst Road as fast as he could. In just a few paces, he saw Don standing at the window of a sex shop, staring into it. Momentary relief flooded through Peter. Was it possible he was wrong? Perhaps Joe hadn't sent Don out to get Marianne. However, as Peter edged closer, standing far enough behind Don to be undetected, his veins iced over when he saw what held Don's patient attention.

Marianne stood in there, talking with the saleswoman. Busy buying an incredible dress, which, despite the distractions of his current situation, Peter couldn't help but notice would look amazing on her, she appeared calm and collected, if a little flushed. Marianne obviously didn't know what kind of spider waited for her in the shadows of the Kings Cross night.

Without so much as a nod in Don's direction, Peter walked into the store. Don would recognize Peter immediately, and that would prevent him from taking any action. Don might be ugly and Joe's lackey, but he was smart. Much smarter than Joe, and he would be aware that he couldn't hurt this woman, or even speak to her, while a lawyer stood between them. Peter took a spot close to the window to be immediately obvious. He glanced over his shoulder to see Don's eyes blazing into him. He busied himself looking at a magazine he'd grabbed, but made sure that Don could see him clearly. The power play between the two men remained undetectable to anyone else, but it had the energy of a cold war. Their missions were incompatible, and Peter knew he had to rise the victor.

Don left eventually. He waited until he caught Peter's eye and gave him a hate-filled glare. Then he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked off in the direction of The Pink Pussycat. No one could have known about the silent drama through the thick plate glass of The Pleasure Chest.

Once he'd gone, Peter turned to see that Marianne was still at the counter speaking to the woman who worked there. With the change in situation, he felt free to look at Marianne closely, as a woman. He decided to take his time, his eyes drinking in her body. He watched her leaning across the desk, her breasts mashed into the countertop, and he saw the woman talking to her glancing down the tight red tank top. He noticed Marianne's sexiness again. Perhaps that stood behind his immediate attraction. He was a man, after all. Even when dealing with a client as important as Joe, he still had that blood flowing through his veins.

She didn't look his usual type. Peter usually had trophy women: normally tall and fair, with an all-year-round tan, and incredible physical shape. They would make Peter the envy of every man in the room.

This woman would definitely inspire envy in other men, but more at that primal level. Any connection with her would have to be for her inspiration, to develop her, calling forth an inner sexual courage Peter sensed would have her do wild things. Something in Peter told him he could never claim ownership of this particular woman, no matter what kinds of games were played with her. She was the kind of female who inspired looks, then continued to fascinate a man more as he got inside her head. A familiar feeling stirred in Peter and started to take hold.

The way she held herself revealed all this to Peter, in the confidence with which she spoke warmly to the woman behind the counter, but with a dignified distance that held her aloof. It occurred to Peter that even if the woman behind the counter were bisexual, she would never approach Marianne. Something about Marianne said, “Not available for just anything.” Even though—Peter felt his cock stir—she gave the impression of being up for anything.

At this point, he noticed the two women were glancing in his direction and giggling to each other. He didn't realize it, but he'd stared at them. Despite himself, he blushed. Peter realized what he must look like to them. Then he panicked. He didn't intend for her to be meeting him at this point. That could take place in a very specific way later on. Peter had it all planned so as to gain maximum advantage, and ultimately, the idea would be to convince her to testify for Joe, rather than potentially against him. Put her up there with a positive spin rather than try to hide her away, if she wasn't willing to marry. Looking at her now, Peter couldn't help being glad again that she wasn't willing to marry.

He had to get control of this situation. Deciding on a change of strategy, he walked straight up to the counter.

“Pardon me, ladies. Were you both laughing at me then?”

Marianne looked a little wary, but the woman behind the counter seemed overeager to jump.

“Yes! We were just admiring your choice of magazine there.”

Peter glanced down at the cover of the magazine he carried:
Girls with Big Jugs
. It wasn't one he would have chosen under different circumstances.

“I guess I should explain.” He looked embarrassed and glanced particularly at Marianne, whom he hoped like hell wouldn't be offended.

“Hey, it's a free country, mister,” she said with just a small note of disdain in her voice.

“No. It's not what you assume. I've been trying to meet you. I actually know you. However, you don't know me. My name is Peter Adams, and I'm Joe's lawyer.”

“I wonder if I could take you to dinner. It's only eight-thirty, but if you've already eaten, perhaps just a drink?”

Looking into this man's eyes, Marianne felt suspended in time. The way he looked at her, into her, as if he were answering a deeply concealed question. The slight quiver in her pussy matched the goose bumps on her skin.

Marianne's hold on reality slipped, and she felt terribly disappointed—for some ungodly reason—that this man, Joe's lawyer, had no real interest in dating her. He had another motive to be spending time, more to do with his career than attraction to her. And he was another of Joe's lackeys.

How could someone with eyes like that work with Joe?

Suddenly she wanted to be home.

“Look, Paul, Pedro, whoever you are, I think I want to turn in. You seem like an okay guy, but I want to complete my shopping and just get home.” Marianne felt wary of being excited by a possibility and having it dashed to pieces.

“No, she doesn't! She wants to have a drink. She told me. She's just being coy!”

Marianne stared at Jen as if she were mad.
Why is she interfering like thi
s
? Jen avoided her stare, staying focused on the man in front of them.

“Do you shop for little items like this every night?” Peter asked, changing the subject. His steady gaze concentrated on Marianne, entering her, stirring her, spreading through her carried by her pulsing blood.
There's something about this guy
. Her vagina, already damp with the evening's activities, started to flare up a little and moisten as she met his eyes. Blushing slightly, she glanced down at the item she purchased and then blushed even deeper.

“Lord, no! I guess it's an impulse buy tonight.”

“I think whoever gets to see you in that dress is one lucky man.”

She glanced up sharply at him.
Playing me like a violin, and I am just humming his favorite song
. Peter seemed to reach in past her defenses immediately, but she reprimanded herself for the umpteenth time that night.
It is not the time or the place, and flirting with Joe's lawyer is out of the question anyway
.

Chapter Three

“Anyway, you two believe dinner is a great idea. Do you know the Cross well, Peter?”

Marianne glared at Jen, who deliberately avoided her eyes and focused on the interesting newcomer.

He looked a little embarrassed. Marianne thought it seemed rather curious for a sophisticated man like Peter to be shy about coming into the Cross at night, but it added to an endearing quality, a warmth he seemed to have.

“I…err…am not here that often, but I don't think there is a Sydneysider who doesn't know the Cross well.”

Jen grinned. “I think The Bourbon is pretty empty for a Saturday. Why don't you guys go there?”

Peter smiled at Marianne. “You know, I believe we'd do better at The Bayswater Brasserie. I'd prefer to take you there. It'll provide us with a chance to talk properly.”

This puzzled Marianne. As one of Sydney's finest establishments, The Bayswater Brasserie impressed visitors, and you took a guest there only if you meant to make yourself look like a winner. It didn't just impress with its price, it also managed to have the most interesting clientele on any given night. A who's-who place to be seen, popular with social climbers. Marianne couldn't help wondering why a lawyer would want that level of exposure with her on his arm.

“That's a fancy place to take me just to ask me a few questions. Are you sure that you are Joe's lawyer? I am just as happy anywhere; it doesn't have to be The Bayswater for me.”

Peter smiled. “I know it seems a little over the top, but I'm a lawyer after all. Did it occur to you I may not want to be recognized in The Bourbon on a Saturday night?”

Marianne felt immediately foolish and turned her head.
Of course! He wants to be seen there rather than anywhere else here, even if it is with a doofus like m
e
! Marianne lifted her head to meet his dark, blue eyes and said, “Well, for The Bayz, I am not appropriately dressed, and seeing as you assume I am going to 'be seen,' I really need fifteen minutes to go home and change.”

“Will you wear that?” Peter asked, pointing a perfectly groomed fingernail at the dress.

She looked up to see a small glint in his eye. Then she laughed.

“I think she should!”

Marianne turned to face her friend with a wide-eyed stare for the second time that evening. What on earth had gotten into her?

“No, I will not be wearing that.” Marianne faked a stern, reprimanding look at Jen as she grabbed her purchase and stuffed it into her purse. The dress folded up into nothing and left plenty of room for everything else. “What I will do is stop home, however. I live near here. I'll change and meet you in thirty minutes. Those are my conditions.”

Peter looked suddenly nervous. “I'd rather you didn't walk out there alone. May I accompany you to your home to get changed? I'd feel more comfortable. And besides,” he added with a wink, “how do I know you'll follow through on your end of the bargain?”

A sweet notion, really, but already Marianne knew she wasn't going to miss this date.

“I'll be fine. I know the Cross well, and it's full of people tonight. Don't worry about me.”