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The Widow’s Revenge An eRed Sage Publication All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2010 eRedSage is a registered trademark of Red Sage Publishing, Inc. Visit us on the World Wide Web: http://www.eRedSage.com ISBN: ISBN: ISBN: ISBN: ISBN:

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Published by arrangement with the authors and copyright holders of the individual works as follows: The Widow‟s Revenge © 2011 by Rue Allyn Cover © 2011 by LYNN Printed in the U.S.A. ebook layout and conversion by jimandzetta.com

The Widow’s Revenge ***

I am very excited to have Red Sage publish my first erotic work, The Widow’s Revenge. Maggie and Alec‟s story is more than a revenge romance involving a battle of wills between two strong determined people. The story springs from questions about how women (or men) with very few resources survive and handle tragic loss. The Widow’s Revenge is how I imagine one woman, with sex as her only resource, solves the problems presented by grief and the loss of her husband.

Chapter One New York City, October 31st Maggie Winters searched the crowd for a Tarzan in a palm leaf loin cloth and a Jane in a leopard skin bikini. Tarzan, also known as Alec Carter and CEO of Carter Enterprises, was Maggie‟s target. Jane was the woman hired anonymously to help pull a joke on a friend. At least that was the story Maggie gave out. Her hired partner for the evening didn‟t need to know that the joke was really bait for a trap. A trap intended for Alec Carter and set under cover of tonight‟s charity masquerade. Because Maggie wasn‟t a lesbian, she had some doubts about using a lesbian encounter as bait. The part of her life that enjoyed sex, especially adventurous sex, had been dead for the last three years. She‟d loved her husband, David, deeply. When he died at the hands of the terrorists Carter Enterprises sent him to do business with, she‟d nearly lost her mind. Her body had shut down. Her once insatiably curious libido dried to stone that cracked under the strain of mourning so strong it crushed her heart and battered her soul to dust. Shattered, she went through the motions of living, unable to care if her grieving heart would heal or quit entirely. Then a month ago, she‟d seen an article containing the announcement of the charity masquerade and Alec Carter‟s picture. The full color photo showed a handsome man in the prime of life. He wore a tuxedo, and his long fingers lifted a champagne glass in toast to a woman nestled within the protective curve of his arm. An ordinary enough picture, Maggie thought, except for the 5

predatory gleam in Carter‟s green-flecked, golden eyes. That tigereyed glance as much as his broad shoulders and lean hips made Maggie‟s breasts prickle and a flush of shock rise to her face. Sexually comatose for years, any sensual response to Alec Carter was as impossible as it was wrong. Surely, anger not lust had triggered her physical response. She‟d been numb for so long that any strong emotion would make her nerves misfire. However, the intense rasp attacking her nervous system didn‟t fade. In fact, her anger grew. Carter was responsible for a devastating loss. Why should he enjoy wealth, sex and life? Such a privileged man could not possibly understand the mind-deadening pain and grief his callous use of people had caused. He needed to learn, to experience firsthand every agonizing, soul killing moment she had suffered. Her mouth watered with an insatiable desire. She would destroy Alec Carter as he had destroyed her. From her anger‟s unappeasable hunger sprang an outrageous idea. She could ruin his professional reputation. Alec Carter was rich, powerful, beyond any revenge she could turn on him save one—sex. Though Maggie wasn‟t vain, she knew men appreciated her. She had never understood women who thought of sex as a weapon, but now, for the first time in three years, she glimpsed herself as powerful. Justice for David‟s death might do what nothing else could. It might free her from the shackles of grief. As she continued to stare at the photo, a plan developed in her mind. Carter‟s predatory gaze at the woman beside him suggested he appreciated women, and enjoyed pursuing them. An attractive and compelling man, he could more than satisfy a woman‟s most elemental needs, and his expression said he knew it. That certainty was a weakness, one Maggie fully intended to turn against him. After careful preparation, she was ready. As she stood on the mezzanine, searching the throng in the lobby below for a nearly 6

The Widow‟s Revenge naked man, she experienced a moment of doubt. What kind of woman was she to need so badly to ruin a man? She knew the answer. She was a woman who deserved revenge, payback, for all that she‟d lost, who deserved to live fully, unchained by immobilizing sorrow. If she found Alec Carter attractive, her physical desire was no more than the honey she needed to bait her trap. A leering cowboy approached her. “Hey there, little lady, wanna ride a bucking bronco?” The words flowed toward her on a tide of bourbon scented breath. He swiveled his hips, giving a sample of the bucking he offered. “I‟m meeting someone.” She shook her head and turned her shoulder to him. Once again she wondered if she could go through with the woman on woman encounter she believed would lure rich and powerful Alec Carter into the net woven to destroy his business reputation and private life. “The ride I got in mind won‟t take long.” Pushing on her shoulder, he forced her to face him and reached for her wrist. “I said, no!” She evaded his grasp, put steel into her voice, and shifted to walk away. He reached for her arm again. This time he caught her wrist and started pulling. “Aw, you don‟t mean that. You‟re dressed like that prostitute, Camille. You‟ll put out for anybody if the price is right. And I can pay better than right. Now come here.” She dug her heels into the plush carpet. Making out with a lesbian can’t be as bad as fighting off a drunken aggressive male. The tug of war was short-lived. “Leave the lady alone. Or would you prefer I feed you to the lions?” The voice resonated in her bones, and the quiet menace in the cultured tones freed her wrist. Maggie soothed her reddened skin with one hand, raised her head to thank her rescuer and gawked while fine tremors shook 7

her body. Before her stood the Tarzan she‟d been searching for. The announcement photograph definitely did not do Alec Carter justice. That photo showed him to be handsome. In the flesh he was beautiful in all the ways that made male different from female. Lips shaped for kissing. A narrow nose. A broad forehead. A head of lush, black hair. Green lights flecking golden eyes surrounded with a thicket of night dark lashes. That same predatory gleam that she‟d seen in his picture threatened even as he protected. Determination lived in the glided gaze. Command rode in the knife sharp jaw darkened with a dusting of black whiskers. And sex. Sex. Sexual prowess vibrated in the wide shoulders, the taut, sculpted muscles of arms and legs; the narrow hips and what appeared to be a generous genital package, if the lift of the palm leaves were anything to go by. An earthy scent mixed with his male heat skittered along her skin and sank tendrils of longing deep in her belly. She licked her lips. On a purely elemental level she wished she could spend the entire night tasting him, savoring him. And how wrong was that? Deriving pleasure, even physical pleasure, from the man who‟d killed her love and her life felt wrong. What other option do I have? I can’t ruin him financially or with influence. Sex is my only weapon. I’ll have to find a way to keep my emotions and physical pleasure separate. Sex with Alec Carter is simply a means to an end. She fed her unwanted physical responses to her anger and kept her outward emotions in check. Towering above the shorter man, Tarzan bristled at the cowboy and gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. The gesture broke the spell of Carter‟s physical allure, and she realized that behind Tarzan stood two huge men dressed as African lions. The cowboy backed off. At a signal from Tarzan, the lions eased into the crowd. Carter definitely knew how to get his way without a lot of fuss 8

The Widow‟s Revenge and bother. She'd expected that kind of autocratic behavior from the man who without a qualm sent a scientist with minimal negotiating skills to inspect a factory for sale in a terrorist infested country. The deadly result had been inevitable, and Maggie‟s anger had grown to encompass her husband‟s loyalty to Carter Enterprises. “Alec Carter.” He held out his hand. “Alec,” her husky whisper echoed. Maggie nodded and extended a hand. She tried to stay in the character of a prostitute and give a suggestive caress that could pass as handshake. However, keeping track of anything, let alone the role she should be playing, was difficult with his tawny gaze penetrating every pore. Heat pooled low in her body. Why did the ghost of her senses rise for a man she hated? He clasped her palm firmly then quickly released her. He‟d been easier to find than she expected, almost as if her thoughts conjured him. However, now was too soon to get this close. Tonight she was supposed to bait the trap. Instead, she felt as if he had snared her. “And you are. . . ?” He waited, quiet and insistent, for her to exchange courtesies and give her name. “The lady‟s with me.” A six foot, coffee-skinned, flame-haired Jane interrupted, saving Maggie from having to answer. The woman muscled her way between Maggie and Tarzan-Alec then slid an arm around Maggie‟s slim shoulders, pulling her close to Jane‟s side. Rescued again, but Maggie‟s rebellious sex drive questioned which was better—her lesbian partner for the night? Or the intimidating male animal poised before her? The shock on Alec‟s face when confronted by an unabashed lesbian might have been amusing, if it weren‟t also insulting. “Excuse me. I‟m sorry. I didn‟t know. Didn‟t mean to intrude.” 9

To his credit he didn‟t try to run away while he stammered his apologies. “No problem,” Jane replied. She gave him a toothy grin, perused his tall muscled body then licked her lips. “We were about to find a little private time in the conservatory. You could join us if you like.” Maggie watched his nostrils flare, saw his respiration rate escalate and observed his avid gaze slide over her and Jane. He was more than a little interested. He was hooked. “Uh, thanks, no. I have other commitments.” He was too smart to risk exposure at an event like this, but his physical response told Maggie he wouldn‟t mind watching someone else play exhibitionist. Statistically, watching two women make love ranked high on the list of popular male fantasies, just below participating in a ménage a trois. While Maggie wouldn‟t object to the latter, arranging a tryst with three people in a public place was more complicated than necessary. All she had to do tonight was catch Alec Carter‟s interest. Making love with one woman should do the trick. So despite her personal preferences, she began to look forward to her sexual encounter with the stunning Jane. “Too bad,” sighed Jane. Her lips formed a sexy little moue completely out of character with a jungle heroine. “Perhaps another time.” Alec nodded. Sexual desire intensified the hunter‟s gleam in his eyes. Maggie turned with her hired date and sashayed in the direction of the conservatory. Jane bent and put her lips next to Maggie‟s ear. “We got him, Babycakes.” Maggie smiled and nodded. “Yes, I think we do.” They stopped beside the elevators and waited. The conservatory was on the next level down. “You sure you want to go through with 10

The Widow‟s Revenge this?” asked Jane. “I saw how you looked at Tarzan. You don‟t normally swing my way. Do you?” “No, I‟m about as heterosexual as they come, but my friend back there needs to be taught a lesson in humility. This will definitely make him re-think his priorities. Besides, we aren‟t exactly going to run naked through the halls sexually attacking everyone in sight. This is a public place, and we do have to keep most of our clothes on.” The elevator doors opened. They entered the empty car, and Maggie pushed the button for the lobby floor. “True, true,” sighed Jane. “Although, the spot you selected for our little show is fairly secluded. Too bad about you being heterosexual, I could go for you in a big way.” “Sorry.” “Well, I‟ll have tonight to remember, so let‟s enjoy the ride.” Jane smiled. Committed to the imminent encounter, Maggie turned her thoughts to the biggest gamble of the evening. Would Alec Carter take the bait? They‟d let him know where they intended to be. Only one spot in the conservatory would be private enough. Only one other spot provided an unobstructed view of that semi-private location. She had cameras placed to catch every lurid act as well as Carter‟s voyeurism. But he had to be there, or the entire plan would fail. She was gambling not only that Alec Carter would want to watch, but that he knew the masquerade venue well enough to watch from exactly where she could catch him on video. The purpose of the video was twofold—first to provide a record of Alec Carter‟s promiscuous and irresponsible behavior, second so she‟d know that he‟d taken the bait. If he wanted her enough to watch her have sex with another woman, then he‟d want her more before Maggie was finished with him.

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***** From the mezzanine Alec watched as the two women exited the elevator and made their way to the conservatory. The scent of ginger and oranges lingered along with the vision of lake-deep blue eyes, a lush pink mouth and creamy skin. He didn‟t really have any immediate commitments. He‟d be meeting friends for drinks in about an hour. Until then he was on his own. Good thing he hadn‟t brought a date. He doubted any woman he knew would be interested in watching two other women, strangers, get it on. But he was interested, very interested, especially in Camille. As arrestingly attractive as Jane was with her café au lait skin and fiery hair, it was the blonde Camille, delicate and pale, her breasts nearly spilling out of that low cut gas-light era gown, who intrigued him most. He wouldn‟t mind having a piece of her himself, but since that wasn‟t an option, watching would be almost as much fun. His gaze tracked the women until they disappeared beyond the conservatory doorway. Alec hurried to follow. He‟d been attending this charity event for years and knew the building. He had a solid idea just where in the conservatory the ladies were headed. The far corner with a long leather lounging chair flanked by potted palms that arched over the chair and screened it on three sides. He also knew the one place where a person could watch that chair virtually unseen. Slow and quiet he made his way through the dimly lit space and headed for a small bench on the narrow room‟s near wall. This side of the room was always in shadow because the lights set high in the ceiling faced out toward the tall glass windows. At night the effect from outside was stunning, but inside, anyone on Alec‟s side of the room was walking in darkness. He approached the bench, careful not to stumble against a plant or pot. Pausing as he neared 12

The Widow‟s Revenge his seat, he checked to make certain the women were well occupied and wouldn‟t notice him moving around in the dark. He shouldn‟t have looked. The blonde, her skirts and petticoats foaming around her waist and hips, sat sideways to his view, cradled on the lap of the redhead who faced the bench where Alec would sit. The top of Camille‟s dress was pushed off her shoulders. Her elbows were bound in the sleeves, and her back arched. Jane‟s dark hands splayed over Camille‟s pale ribcage, lifting the smaller woman up for easier access to her breasts. The dark woman‟s tongue licked and swirled at Camille‟s taut pink buds then closed over one glistening nipple to suck loudly. The blonde woman moaned and tore her arms free of the restraining sleeves. She grasped the redhead‟s hair and thrust her chest at the woman‟s mouth, forcing her breast deeper into the sucking lips. Alec stumbled to the bench. Fortunately, he didn‟t knock anything over on his way. Camille squirmed in Jane‟s lap. “That feels so good. Let me touch you.” With one hand she pushed the bikini bra away, exposing generous dusky bosoms with large rosy nipples. Camille palmed one breast then pinched the nipple, pulling the bud and scraping her nails across the tip then repeating the process. Jane growled and released her hold on the blonde woman‟s torso only to plunge her hand into the frothing cloth and between Camille‟s legs. The blonde moaned, arched higher and raised her far knee. Alec was close enough to see pearly liquid glistening on Camille‟s hair free crease. Open mouthed, he watched Jane‟s long fingers plunge repeatedly between the swollen red lips of the pussy and her thumb stroke the clit that hid from his view. Camille spasmed. Her legs flailed wildly, and she cried out as 13

she came. Jane shifted quickly to kiss Camille and take into her mouth the climaxing woman‟s vocal ecstasy. All the while, Jane‟s fingers worked at her partner‟s steamy slit. Long shudders raked Camille‟s body as the constant stimulation drew out her orgasm. Finally, her body stilled and lay limp in Jane‟s tender clasp. The redhead kissed the blonde‟s cheek and eyelids, uttering soothing murmurs to the shaken woman. “Ssh, Babycakes. It‟s all right.” Tears gleaming on her cheeks, Camille lifted her head and smiled at Jane. “That was more than all right. That was beautiful. Thank you.” Jane placed her cum-shiny fingers against Camille‟s lips. “Thank you.” Together the women licked the fingers clean. Camille rose up between Jane‟s spread legs, placed her hands on the taller woman‟s shoulders and kissed her with a wild tangle of tongues and lips. “I want to do something to make you feel just as good as I feel right now.” Jane resumed the kiss. Finally they parted for breath. “You‟ll do a lot for me, Babycakes, just as soon as we get home.” Wearing a lust filled grin, Jane eased her hands under Camille‟s skirt. From the side, Alec got a glimpse of a pale pink ass cheek being squeezed by dark narrow fingers. Camille pouted. Her responsive body lifted upward, putting her champagne glass breasts at her partner‟s mouth level. “Why not now?” Jane chuckled quietly and kissed each perky nipple. “Because we are still in a public place, and what I want you to do for me I want you to do completely naked. Now let‟s put our clothes back together and get out of here. I‟m hungry for some wet pussy. How 14

The Widow‟s Revenge about you?” Jane‟s hands reappeared from under Camille‟s skirts. The darker woman restored her bra to its original position. “Sounds great.” Camille stood, poking her arms back into the sleeves of her dress. Jane straightened the voluminous skirt and petticoats then helped to button the top. Giggles and quick caresses accompanied the dressing. Patting their hair into place the two women left the conservatory. On his bench, Alec panted, shoved his hands inside the band of the thong beneath his loincloth and squeezed his cock in an attempt to get his rampant erection to subside. His brain was so full of breasts, asses, lips, tongues and pussies, the attempt failed miserably. He had to do something, but moving would be painful. Finding a men‟s room or some other more private location was out of the question. The need to cum was too great to tolerate delay. Knowing that it wouldn‟t take long, he risked exposure and spent the next few minutes mentally reliving the scene he‟d just witnessed while he jerked off into a nearby potted plant. He thought of Camille and how much he wanted her. His attraction was greater and more immediate than his usual response to a beautiful woman. Normally he could count on a leap in his pulse and respiration, but he rarely had difficulty controlling his body. He‟d had trouble with his loincloth at the first sight of the blonde‟s slim figure encased in an armor of cloth, the swell of her pert breasts plumped by corseted satin, the curve of her hips and thighs emphasized by a sweep of material drawn tight against her skin and upward into a tiny bustle perched on her sweet little ass. Then he‟d seen her eyes. The drunk annoying her should have died from that slashing lake-deep blue glare. Every line of her body had been steel taut, 15

ready to batter the drunk to a pulp if he didn‟t let go. That‟s when Alec‟s protective impulses had kicked in. He‟d told himself at the time that he only wanted to prevent a scene and save the charity any negative publicity. But he knew better. He‟d been attracted as much by her strength of will as her beauty. That wasn‟t normal for him. He usually went for pretty women, easy-going women. He wasn‟t interested in women who wanted to be his equal or worse his superior. No ball-breakers for him. Camille was more than pretty. But she was also far from easy-going. She would have kneed that drunk in the balls, if Alec hadn‟t interfered. Making love with a powerhouse like Jane, in a public place no less, took a kind of strength so far from easy going that Camille was in a different universe. Yet something about her, something in the tenderness that conquered Jane, drew Alec to Camille. She was unlike any woman he‟d ever met. He wanted more of her, wanted to find out who she was and what made her that way. He always got what he wanted.

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Chapter Two New York City, November 21st Alec wondered if he‟d see her today. He checked his watch. 7:30 AM stared back at him. Half an hour remained until his emergency meeting with the Carter Enterprises senior management team. The elevator doors opened. The scent of ginger and oranges filled his head. Camille! Then she appeared like some sort of sensual phantasm. Her black dress and veil emerged against the dark wood panels that attempted and failed to give the elevator elegance. Anything would when compared with her slender, graceful form. She‟d been tantalizing him nearly every day since the masquerade, but always at a distance. She never allowed him a clear view of her face, and like that first night, she disappeared before he could get close. He‟d begun to watch for her, hoping that just once she would come within speaking range. Today looked like the day to have his hopes fulfilled. For the entire elevator ride, she‟d be near enough to speak to, perhaps even touch. A lot could happen in sixty seconds or less. In a fog of fascination, only dimly aware of other passengers, he entered the car. Her head moved as he did, and he felt her gaze on him. He wondered, as he always did, if her eyes really were that clear, lake deep blue he remembered from the charity masquerade? Or did some other color hide beneath the translucent black of her veil? What expression would he see on her face, if he, she or fate lifted that cloth aside? Would he see an echo of his own sexual desire flare across her flawless skin? Maybe 17

some other emotion fired her eyes and colored her cheeks? Perhaps she‟d be as cool and remote as her constant silence implied. That thought had him debating what her voice might sound like. Beyond a few throaty whispers, he‟d never heard her speak. Over her face, the folds of dusky silk shifted. Did he catch the glimmer of a smile? He liked to think that he could bring some small joy to her. She had to be a widow and a stranger. No woman of his acquaintance who wasn‟t widowed, and few who were, would wear a veil or extend formal mourning for more than a week or two. Especially when the woman was as beautiful as he knew his mystery woman to be under her calf length black sheath. What a shame. Whatever sorrow drove her to hide herself from the world deprived her of all it had to offer. He‟d witnessed her passion at the masquerade, and to encase that passion in mourning was criminal. The elevator began its upward journey. He had to find out her name—all that he could about her—and he didn‟t have much time. Silently he cursed the other people in the car, rejoicing every time it stopped and let one or two off. Once he got her alone, there would be no more teasing glimpses, no more jerking him around like his father had. A more thorough going, self-absorbed, philandering bastard than the deceased Alec Carter, Sr., his son couldn‟t imagine. Alec forced his thoughts back to Camille. More likely, the black clothes, the veil, even the delicate pallor were deliberate ploys to gain his sympathy and interest. If her show of sorrow was a ploy, he wondered why? What did she want that caused her to cross his path so frequently and provoke him into fantasizing about her? Shouldn‟t he be angry that she tried to manipulate him? Why did it please him so intensely when she suddenly appeared? Why the deep distress when with equal suddenness she vanished? She‟d held his interest since the day of the masquerade, longer 18

The Widow‟s Revenge than most women. He‟d been so fascinated that he‟d decided at that moment to have her. Yet, she'd eluded him despite his determination and multi-national corporate resources. The drama she wrapped around herself intrigued much more than the abrupt, direct come-ons he usually received from women. Her unique combination of vulnerability and strength called to him in ways both familiar and strange. The hunter in him recognized that if he wanted her yielding and in his arms, his pursuit must be unusually subtle. She must see his hunger, think he desired her enough to foolishly expose his vulnerabilities. He‟d learned over the past weeks that only when she believed his defenses to be down did she come closer. Covertly he glanced at her again. Lord such a body! Perfect breasts rode high and taut above a tiny waist. The gentle flare of her hips curved into a taut little ass. His tie felt too tight. He swallowed, but it didn‟t help. He didn‟t like the role of bait, but he wanted her too much not to play the lamb until it was too late for her to escape the wolf. The elevator rattled. He glanced again in her direction. Pathetic as it was, exposing his weakness for her was almost too easy, too real. She drew him at the most basic level, from the curve of blonde hair that shone against her neck and shoulders, pale arms and long hands, to her gorgeous legs. He couldn‟t get enough of looking at her. He found himself praying that the ventilation system in the elevator would stir the air so he could glimpse the flesh where the kick pleat of her skirt flirted with the smooth, taut line of her thigh. He‟d seen many female thighs in his adult life. What was it about the idea of seeing her pale legs, touching her soft skin, that turned him from a cool savvy businessman into a hormone driven slave to the surprising and addictive passions only she seemed able to rouse? Why did she fill his mind, 19

excluding good sense and awareness of his surroundings? The elevator stopped. Three people got off. Only one elderly woman remained besides his mystery woman. Alec‟s teeth ground together. How long before he could be alone with her? How long before he could satisfy this longing to possess her? When they were finally alone, would this be the day that the power would fail, jerk the elevator to a stop and toss her into his arms? If I get my hands on her I’ll never let go until we’re both sweaty and very satisfied. Maybe I won’t let her go then either. The bell dinged, dragging Alec to awareness of an imminent stop. What if she got off? He‟d follow. He‟d text a postponement for the meeting, but he wouldn‟t lose this opportunity to strengthen his tenuous bonds with the widow. The car stopped. With slow, careful steps the elderly lady left the elevator. Alec held his breath, but the woman in black remained. Being near her was sheer torture, and he wouldn‟t give it up for anything. Thank heaven the Carter Enterprises‟ corporate offices on the top floor were at the opposite end of the hall from the elevator bank. The walk, uncomfortable as it may be, would give him enough time to recover before he paraded past the secretaries who shared the outer office. They didn‟t miss a thing, especially where their new and very single CEO was concerned. He could imagine the water cooler gossip if he began arriving at the office with an erection tenting his pants every morning. The doors closed. The widow sighed. Her large zippered tote dropped next to her on the floor. Alec looked up just as she sagged against the side of the car. He rushed to support her. “Are you all right?” She leaned on him. Beneath where her palms rested atop his suit coat and shirt his skin burned. Tiny tremors shook her perfect body. She filled his arms like a scared feline. Pride swelled his 20

The Widow‟s Revenge chest, and strength tightened his arms about her. Tenderness and some other, unnamable emotion closed his throat and made his eyes water. “I‟m fine, really, just a little dizzy. It will pass.” Her voice was all he‟d imagined and more. A dusky purr that vibrated across his skin and made him want to babble at random just to hear her respond. “Then rest a moment.” She raised her face to look at him and shifted away by a degree. “I couldn‟t.” “Please.” Again his arms tightened around her, bringing her back—close to him, where she belonged. “I‟ll take care of you. Let me help.” If she gave him the slightest opening, he‟d help them both to a very pleasing interlude. Maybe he could persuade her to join him in his office. She‟d be in his territory then, and he‟d lock away the world. He‟d throw off the cumbersome role of lamb, let the wolf storm her dramatic defenses, tear down the walls of mystery and make her reveal herself in all the passionate glory he sensed within her. Suddenly, in a moment of clarity—rare when she was near, he realized that he didn‟t simply lust to ease his physical hungers. He wanted her passion, yes, but more than that he was desperate to know her, to know the woman behind the veil. “I‟m glad.” She pushed back against his arm. A space opened between them. She raised one hand and twisted to face him. Reaching behind her, she pushed the button that halted the elevator between floors. “Because I need your help.” Slowly he dropped his arms from around her. What had he gotten into? Nothing good if she had to waylay him in an elevator instead of making an appointment. Then, arms reaching for her again, he knew he didn‟t care. Regardless of her motives, her reasons, the consequences, he wanted her and was determined to 21

have her, all of her. “Yes,” she breathed the word while evading his embrace with charming shyness. The veil lifted enough to reveal glossy red lips, the only bright color he‟d ever seen her wear. Then the cloth fell back into place. “H. . . how?” Alec wasn‟t used to feeling confused, but between her aggressive seductiveness, his raging libido, and the sense that trouble waited to pounce, he experienced uncharacteristic doubt. He didn‟t care to doubt himself. When faced with questions, he always sought more information. The only way to get more information from his mystery woman was to play possum, so to speak, to let her have her way with him, up to a point. Then he‟d turn the tables. She would be the one so entranced she couldn‟t break away no matter how loudly good sense screamed otherwise. He‟d make her feel so good that she‟d give him everything he wanted. Her body, her story, and her name. He wouldn‟t have to take anything. Like him, she‟d be caught in the trap of her own desires. “Just hold me.” Alec had no problem with that request. He wrapped one arm around her and tugged her closer. Once she stood nestled against his chest, incredible satisfaction rocked him Her five inch fuck me heels made her nearly as tall as he was. It took only a minor upward shift for her to look him in the eye. He stared at her through her veil, studied the concealing droop of her eyelids, the anticipating tension in her cheeks and jaw, the doubting swallow of her throat. He‟d lay odds she believed she had him fooled. But, she hadn't. In that one glance, he confirmed that she was vulnerable to him. Whatever else she might want, she wanted him. He would enjoy making certain she got him again and again and again until he finally got her total, complete and unconditional surrender. 22

The Widow‟s Revenge “Touch me.” She breathed the siren words against his ear. He smiled. “I plan to.” She took his empty hand and pressed it to her cloth covered breast. His briefcase dropped from his other hand. Through the cloth a hardened nipple poked into his palm. She was already aroused. Good thing, because he was too. He squeezed the plump mound. The arm holding her shifted. His other hand drifted downward until he filled his palm with a firm butt cheek then he pulled her in tight to his now raging erection. She sighed and snuggled against him, hiding her face in his neck. If she hid herself for a moment, he didn‟t care. Her lips on his throat felt beyond good. He was on to her. Her desires were strong but laid her open. He would take every advantage, and they would both enjoy every minute. He‟d make sure of it. He‟d make sure she needed him so desperately that she‟d stay until he told her to go. While she clung, he shifted their bodies so that every surface touched. Once he had her where he wanted her, he couldn‟t resist making a slow swivel of their hips, causing his aching cock to rub circles of steamy pleasure over her mound. Below his ear her breath hitched, and a low moan broke from her throat. Did she just say no? Her back arched; her hips rubbed against his, and she pressed her nipple harder into his palm. He left off squeezing her butt and gathered her skirt until he could slip his hand beneath it. He wanted to touch her panties, hungered to know if she was wet, ready, or if she needed more foreplay. His searching fingers encountered no cloth, not silk, sateen, cotton or cloth of any kind. She was butt naked. He nearly stopped breathing. His erection surged. He nuzzled her neck as he skimmed his fingertips down her crack and delved 23

between her legs to her swollen, quim slicked labia. A throaty hum escaped her lips, as she ground her hips to his all the while pushing against his fingers. He felt her hand close around his throbbing cock. A groan tore from his throat. When had she gotten inside his pants? She squeezed and ran her thumb over the hyper-sensitive head of his penis, finding the drop of fluid there and smoothing it around his swelling knob. A shudder struck his body, and he no longer cared how or when she‟d gotten hold of him. He was just glad she had. He sucked at her neck, marking her then soothing the small hurt with a flurry of licks. She pulled away, her hand still wrapped around the rod sticking out of his unzipped slacks. She squeezed, released, squeezed again, maintained that rhythm then rose up on her toes to run her teeth over his earlobe. He made a supreme effort to focus, wanting to see, needing to know that his body pleased her. Their gazes locked. Shock jolted through him. Loathing filled her eyes but disappeared in a blink, replaced by a carefully blank stare. Where had her desire gone? He knew she felt it because he‟d seen it in her face. What had caused that moment of disgust? Which was the real woman? Why seduce him if she despised what she was doing? The contradiction increased his fascination. “Stand very still,” she whispered before withdrawing completely. Her hand released his cock leaving him cold, exposed, and dumbfounded. “You can‟t stop now.” God, he sounded desperate. Shame crept over his face. He hadn‟t begged for anything since the day his father said he didn‟t have time for little boys. She laid a finger against Alec‟s lips. “Shhh. We‟re just getting started.” 24

The Widow‟s Revenge Is that supposed to reassure me? The small doubt tightened his skin which only strengthened the magic of her allure. She loosened his belt and spread open his fly, letting his trousers hang on his pelvic bones. Then she reached into a pocket hidden in the side-seam of her skirt. Holding a small tube in her hand, she knelt before him on the carpeted floor of the elevator car. Anticipation shook him to his toes. What was she going to do? Leaning back against the elevator wall, he bent his knees so his hands could fondle her bosom. Preoccupied with his penis, she didn‟t object. In fact she leaned in to the caress, and that low moan—the one that sounded like no, but felt so much like please touch me more—emerged from her throat. Fingers fumbling, he unbuttoned her blouse until he could reach her naked mounds. Here too, she wore no underwear. He ran his thumbs across the velvety centers, felt them extend, felt her globes swell and grow heavy. Her breathing increased, and the pulse at her throat raced. How he hungered to taste those turgid peaks, but her grip on his penis prevented any change in his position. He kept his gaze on her face. Her expression intent, she reached up with one hand and cradled his sac, rolling his balls back and forth until they were hard and tight against his pubic bone. The sensation was excruciatingly good and completely unsatisfying. His cock bucked at the extra stimulation. This foreplay was killing him. He wanted inside her so badly that his control was slipping. How could he turn the tables, take the lead, if he couldn‟t manage his own desires? She was too good, and he needed her too much. “Naughty, naughty.” She smiled, appearing to be delighted, and speaking directly at his fleshy rod, as if it misbehaved all on its own. “We‟ll have to put a stop to that. I said stand very still.” The mere suggestion of stopping made a moan swell and clog 25

his throat. He wouldn‟t beg or plead, and he would have her—but later, after she made a meal of his hard-on. She raised the hand with the small tube. He saw now that it was some sort of cylinder pump. Distantly he thought perhaps he should be worried. Aiming the nozzle at his cockhead, she pumped with her index finger. A nearly invisible mist emerged settling on his knob. The scent of mint rose in the air. She continued to pump, coating his entire erection, paying special attention to the spot underneath and at the bottom of his glans. The mist prickled along his full length and a tightening shiver slid across the skin of his shaft. He was too stimulated, too eager for the engulfing heat of her lips and throat for the small amount of cold to cause any visible reduction in his pole. In fact, the tiny chill only aroused him more as he anticipated sinking his penis into her steamy feminine heat. Still fondling his aching balls she replaced the cylinder in her pocket. Then she pinched his rod, just below the head, between the thumb and forefinger of her now empty hand. She positioned the head in front of her face, opened her mouth, pointed her tongue and stabbed into his penile sphincter. Pain and pleasure erupted in a seismic convulsion of his muscles from the tops of his thighs, up through his gluteus and his body to his head then back down, emerging from the tip of his penis. He almost lost it and spurted in her face. As it was a dribble of cum seeped out. She muttered a pleased Mmmm. Her tongue lapped up the small stream in one swipe, and her lips finally closed around his abused swelling glans. She ran her tongue up and down the underside of his knob and sucked him into the heated maelstrom 26

The Widow‟s Revenge of her mouth. The satisfaction of finally being inside her lasted less than a moment before the hunger returned. It wasn‟t enough to have her tongue swirl over the hypersensitive knob. He needed to have her suck him in completely. Her restrictions to his movements grated and increased his desperate need for her. Once more base desire urged him to force the issue, grip her head in his hands and actively fuck her face. Only the thought that he might lose her completely, never see her again, never touch her or be touched, kept his aggression in check. Desperate for release, for her, he somehow managed to remain still. She rewarded his restraint and gobbled him inch by excruciating inch to the back of her mouth and down into her snug throat. His hands squeezed and tugged at her nipples. She moved against his grasp, raking the puckered buds against his palms, arching her back, and thrusting herself harder into his busy fingers. With his pelvis seated against her lips, she began to tighten and loosen her throat. It felt like he was being swallowed whole. So intense and thorough was the sensation that he barely noticed the now familiar tingle of that spray on his anal sphincter. It wasn‟t until she pressed two fingers inside his asshole that he realized what she was doing. No! I don’t want this to end. I’ve never had a blow job this good. I want it to go on forever. “Please,” he moaned. Distantly he heard a small thud as something dropped to the floor. Her relentless fingers found his prostate. A single small push on that gland sent his highly stimulated penis into overdrive. His last shred of restraint snapped. He bucked, fucking into her mouth once, twice, on the third stroke his cum hit the back of her throat. He lost all control, and his hands at her breasts went limp. She didn‟t seem to notice, but continued to milk his cock with her 27

throat swallowing every copious drop his body produced, all the while caressing his prostate with her fingers. His hips and cock jerked with involuntary spasms in an orgasm that he swore lasted at least an hour. When his thrusts finally stilled, she slipped her fingers from his ass and gave a last sucking squeeze then released his deflated penis. Aftershocks shot through him, and his knees buckled. He sagged heavily against the back wall of the elevator and stared. In that moment, he hated her for causing this weakness, and he wanted her more than breath. Rising from her knees, she stood, not a hair out of place, and refastened her blouse. Was that a flash of worry he saw in her eyes? That damned veil still hid her face, and she wasn‟t close enough for him to see through, so he couldn‟t tell. She pushed the elevator button, sending the car into motion toward the lobby. Weak as he was, his heart began to race. What is she doing? Does she intend to expose me like this? Force me into some embarrassing scandal? How could I be so careless? Careless or not, he knew that having her was worth any price. Supremely unconcerned, she wiped her lips and face on a handkerchief taken from her tote, then used the same cloth to dry off his penis. She placed the flaccid member back inside his underwear, zipped his pants and buckled his belt, caring for him like a nurse for a feeble invalid. His weakness was no surprise after that earthshaking orgasm. Still he resented that he couldn‟t recover faster. She‟d satisfied his body‟s hunger momentarily, but his need had grown to boundless proportions. He had to keep her with him, explore every pore and crevice of body and soul, but that wouldn‟t happen, not when the after effects of her extremely talented mouth still held him in thrall. A ding signaled the elevator was coming to a halt. She took an 28

The Widow‟s Revenge envelope from an exterior pocket of her tote, tucked the paper into the inner pocket of his suit coat. As the doors opened, she turned, bag in hand, and stepped out into the first floor lobby of his building. The doors closed before he could recover, and by then it was too late to follow her. The car resumed its upward climb. Like a man who suffered a high voltage shock, Alec stumbled to the panel and pushed the button for the top floor. Lord, he hoped he could find his brain and coordination before he walked into the management meeting. Certain that he was going to be late and set a very bad precedent, he checked his watch. 7:38 AM. That cataclysmic blow job had taken only eight precious minutes. He had a new respect for the term quickie. His need for the widow pushed way beyond desperate. He would show her that she couldn‟t continue to manipulate him and walk away unscathed. First, he had to find her . The bell dinged, and the doors opened. He pushed the stop button on the elevator car. Leaning over to grab his briefcase, he noticed the small cylinder pushed up against the side of the case. He dropped his pocket square over the tube, picked it up and paced the hallway to the Carter Enterprises reception area. “Evelyn.” Hoping no one would notice his lingering unsteadiness, he strode up to the reception desk and spoke to his very efficient receptionist. “I want the head of security in my office within the next sixty seconds, and you are not to allow anyone in or out of that elevator until security clears it. Understand.” “Yes sir.” She reached for the phone and pushed the instant dial for security. “Thank you.” Forcing his body back under control Alec marched off to his office. The woman in black had to have left finger prints, DNA, something that could be used to trace her. He‟d have the entire building‟s security cameras checked for the entire day, 29

inside and out. He would find her, he was certain. He‟d played her game too long. Now, she would play by his rules. Having her once wasn‟t enough. He needed more. He needed her to need him. From the moment her lips released his cock his need had grown. Captivating was a weak term to describe the raging inferno of want that consumed his entire being. He hadn‟t felt yearning this intense since he‟d been a child with no power to influence or control the father he wished would love him. He‟d never wanted to feel that helpless lack again. Yet here he was desperate for a woman whose greatest attraction thus far was a magnetic ability to resurrect exactly that terrifying helplessness. He told himself that the only reason he wanted her was to put her in her place, to prove to them both that his vulnerability was a temporary aberration, to make certain she knew who was in charge. However the desire to have control over her body didn‟t explain the longing to know her mind and soul, or the niggling fear that he truly wanted to yield and bow to her every whim. ***** Maggie exited the elevator. Careful to avoid security cameras she hurried, without drawing undue attention, to the nearest ladies‟ room. There she locked herself into one of the larger stalls, hung her tote bag on the hook, leaned against the back wall, braced her legs and lifted her skirt. She dug the middle three fingers of her free hand into her sopping pussy as deep as they would go. Her thumb stroked her clit, while her fingers played cock to her vagina‟s voracious spasms. In moments an orgasm quaked through her. Her hand dropped limp from between her legs, her head fell forward, and 30

The Widow‟s Revenge her body sagged. Unable to support herself, she slid down the wall to sit, spent, on the tile floor. How could she imagine her attraction at the first sight of Alec would persist and grow into unmanageable lust? What would happen when he touched her mons or when he truly fucked her? Both of those were part of her plan for revenge. She had to get him into a compromising position if she wanted to ruin him. Necessary as sex with Alec was to her plans, she wasn‟t supposed to want sex with him as much as she had today, and she was never supposed to show him her real self. For a moment, as she first put her hand on his cock, he‟d seen her through her veil. She‟d been caught in that gold-green gaze, unable to look away. Had he seen her, Maggie, or had her mystery woman disguise remained in place? The image from the newspaper, of Alec, his arm protecting a woman he pursued, flashed through Maggie‟s mind along with an instant of doubt. She rejected both. She was just overwrought due to weeks of teasing Alec from afar. She‟d have an entire seven days of rest and preparation before she had to deal with him again. If he accepted the invitation she‟d slipped into his suit coat pocket. After today, she was all but certain he would. Her breathing restored to normal, she pried herself from the floor. She stripped, then took clean bright clothes and a black wig from the tote before turning the reversible bag inside out. She dressed quickly and put her widow‟s garb into the bag. Then using the bathroom sink and mirror, she washed her face and applied fresh makeup. When a new face stared back at her, she straightened her clothes, exited the restroom and headed for her car. The time had come to begin her real assault on Alec Carter.

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Chapter Three New York City, November 21st Thoughts of the woman in black and what she‟d done to him in the elevator plagued Alec throughout the terse session with his head of security. Even after the man left and Alec had five minutes to finalize preparations for the emergency management meeting, he could feel her mouth on his cock, see her passion veiled blue eyes, drops of his cum glistening on her smiling mouth as she licked her lips clean. The image had him hard and straining. He wanted her again, now! But he couldn‟t have her. With distressing consistency she‟d vanished almost as if he‟d dreamed her. Well, that would end. His security force was very good, and if she could be found they would do the job. Still her memory stayed with him as he gathered his things, moved from office to conference room, greeted the managers of Carter Enterprises‟ various divisions and took his seat at the head of the conference table. He sat staring at the handwritten sheet of paper that topped his portfolio. He didn‟t see the shaky scrawl on flowery stationary. Instead, he saw a veiled face, long curvy legs, that compelling mouth reaching for him, engulfing him. The clearing of a throat brought him back to the present. Much though he wanted to linger over thoughts of his widow, he pushed personal yearnings aside and turned to business. He lifted the stationary then surveyed his upper level management team, letting his gaze pause longer on his VPs of finance and legal affairs. “Gentlemen, and ladies, a situation has been brought to my 32

The Widow‟s Revenge attention that is of nightmarish proportions and may well push Carter Enterprises into bankruptcy.” The startled looks on the faces around the table were patent. Good. I’ve got their attention. “I have in my hand a letter from Mrs. Bertha Miller, age 65 of Tampa Florida. She writes: Dear Mr. Carter. I am writing directly to you because all of my attempts to receive any consideration from either your Financial Affairs Office and Legal Department have failed. My husband, Roger, an employee of Carter Enterprises for over 30 years, retired last year and suffered a fatal heart attack within six months. I miss him every day and wish only that I could have him with me once more. That is not possible. Nor is it possible for me to continue living in the home we built together, or receive necessary treatment for my chronic diabetes and high blood pressure. Roger believed he had provided for our futures including the circumstances which might take him from life before me, as has happened. However when I recovered sufficiently from losing the love of my life to apply for the death benefit due to me under the Carter Enterprises life insurance policy— a policy to which Roger contributed faithfully every year and was promised matching funds from Carter Enterprises—I was told that the policy had been canceled years before Roger retired. I protested that my husband would do nothing so foolish. 33

Your Legal Department confirmed that it was not Roger, but Carter Enterprises that canceled the policy. I protested, but I was assured that no mistake had been made. I sought legal counsel and discovered that in the fine print of the insurance documents is a clause that allows Carter Enterprises to cancel policies without notice to the policy holder or beneficiaries. My attorney assured me that the clause was legal, though unprincipled. Mr. Carter, that clause, whether it is legal or not, is criminal. In a few short weeks I will be destitute, not because my husband and I have been irresponsible, but because Carter Enterprises’ business practices are immoral and unconscionable. “Mrs. Miller goes on to explain in detail all of the steps she took to receive reparation and why she sent this letter to my home rather than to my office at Carter Enterprises. Because her letter is my first notice of this horrific policy, I wish to give you a chance to explain to me why this policy is in place. He waited, hoping someone would take responsibility and explain how a policy had been adopted that did so much damage to innocents and could ruin Carter Enterprises in very short order. The silence deafened. One at a time, he settled his stare on each person at the table. Most couldn‟t hold his gaze, either dropping their heads in apparent embarrassment or shifting to look at someone else, as if to lay blame. Disappointment gave birth to fury. Not one of them had the courage to confront him—the kind of courage amply shown in an elderly woman‟s letter. Perhaps his team needed a little prodding. “I have no reason to doubt Mrs. Miller, whose actions are well documented. So I want an explanation. I also want to know why, when I assumed the CEO‟s position upon my father‟s death two 34

The Widow‟s Revenge years ago, I was not informed of this policy or any existing complaints about it.” Once more he studied the faces of his division managers. He let them see the anger burning away his control. Once more, manager by manager, they remained silent. With each failure to speak, Alec grew more frustrated. The letter crumpled in his fist. He wished he could beat sense into the people who shared the table. No wonder Carter Enterprises stood on the edge of disaster. None of its leaders could lead. He faulted his micro-managing father for hiring a bunch of yes-men. Even so, such dismal leadership performance merited no excuse. He should fire them all and, determined to keep his company afloat and sound, he probably would. He let the thought show on his face. Let them take his determination as a warning. As he waited, the moment when he discovered his widow‟s need for him drifted to his mind. That compelling concealment, the eager tension and hesitant swallow, intended or not, had lead him to cast caution and good sense aside for the chance to test himself against a worthy and desirable adversary. At the thought of her, his gut clenched and his penis grew harder again. He shoved the thought aside. Now was not the time. He needed to stay focused. He had to find out which of his leadership team could be relied on and who was too weak to keep. Discovering the widow‟s strengths and weaknesses would have to wait. When his caustic glance reached the VP of Finance, Alec got a surprise. Joshua Felder returned stare for stare. Alec nodded at the man. “Mr. Carter, your father put that policy in place, and because you have been with the company for several years, working under his direction, I assumed that you knew of and approved the action. I also assumed that you knew of the drain that benefits of all types have had on our bottom line. Your father instituted the policy in 35

order to keep Carter Enterprises solvent.” Felder‟s tone was harsh and defiant. “My disagreements with my father on policies affecting employees and product quality are legion, as this group is well aware.” Alec‟s glare swept the table one more time, encompassing every person there. “Thus, I find your assumption difficult to credit. In addition, when I took over the CEO‟s position, I ordered a complete and thorough review of all company practices and policies.” He shook the letter. “This policy never made it to my desk for review. I want to know why. I also want to know how many other policies instituted by my father have never been reviewed. I want that information on my desk by tomorrow morning. Further, I will be instituting an independent audit of company practices and finances. That audit had better confirm the information I receive from your respective divisions. I‟ll find a new head for any division that fails to comply. Is that understood?” Around the table, every head nodded confirmation. “Then we are finished here.” Frustration drove him to close his portfolio with a snap. The mystery woman‟s image smiled into his memory, and his cock hardened once more, forcing him to remain seated rather than stand and pace out his irritation. He could hear his father sneering that his son was so soft hearted Carter Enterprises wouldn‟t survive more than a year after Alec Jr. took over. Two years had passed since Alec Sr.‟s death, and the company was thriving. Their stock rating stood in the top ten percent of both Morningstar and Moody‟s lists. That glittering success would turn to ash, unless Alec could find some way to head off the disaster that loomed from his greedy parent‟s orders regarding employee life insurance benefits. Financial disaster, incompetence in his upper management team, and an unreasoning passion for a mystery woman (one that 36

The Widow‟s Revenge he allowed to lead him to admittedly irresponsible behavior), problem piled atop problem. Each had a solution—some more than one. However, every solution depended on factors within his influence, but beyond his control. That lack of control was as unacceptable as his widow was elusive. He was determined to regain both. He drummed his fingers on the conference table waiting for the room to clear and his erection to subside. As chairs were pushed back and the collective department heads rose to leave, Alec motioned Josh Felder and Simon Pierce, Carter Enterprises‟ Vice President of Legal Affairs, to remain. Once the room emptied, he gestured to seats closer to him. “Gentlemen, Carter Enterprises has a crisis that must be addressed quickly or we will all be out of jobs.” He turned to his VP of Legal Affairs. “Please explain the legal ramifications of this insurance fiasco.” The situation laid out by Simon was dire. While the clause in the benefits package was legal, it was a questionable business practice and grounds did exist for class action by any and all persons denied benefits. Whether or not such a suit would end in the plaintiffs favor was a gamble and more likely if the suit went to jury. Simon‟s recommendation was that the policy be revoked and arrangements made to pay restitution of all benefits denied under the practice instituted during the elder Alec‟s tenure as CEO. What the company‟s top lawyer was saying was that Carter Enterprises was well and truly fucked. That the fucking happened because of his father and not from any subordinate irresponsibility angered Alec even more. Alec Sr. gave with one hand and took away with the other. Much like the mystery woman gave the best blow job—and probably the best sex—Alec would ever have, but took away any chance he could to control the situation and guarantee continued access to her very talented mouth and 37

luscious body. “Harumpf.” The sound of Josh clearing his throat brought Alec back to the immediate problem. He did his best to banish thoughts of pale skin, blue eyes and a body any man would beg to have. His best resulted in a semi-hard cock that pulsed distraction to his brain with every word he spoke. “I want your opinions on the financial consequences to Carter Enterprises of revoking this policy and restoring benefits as Simon recommends?” “The scale of an immediate pay out would bankrupt the company,” stated Josh. “Taking no action will have the same result or worse,” countered Simon. Alec raised his hands to halt the incipient debate. “You‟re both right. However, regardless of the cost to Carter Enterprises, we must make restitution. If we get all beneficiaries affected by this practice to agree to restitution over time, will that mitigate the impact on our bottom line and keep Carter Enterprises solvent?” Josh frowned, thinking. “Possibly.” “I‟ll take that possibility over certain bankruptcy. Josh work with Simon to identify those affected and determine an acceptable and affordable rate of payment along with a plan for enacting the restitution at the earliest opportunity. I‟ll expect that plan with supporting documentation to be on my desk for approval by week‟s end. Is that clear?” “Yes, sir.” “Yes, Mr. Carter.” “Excellent. I know you have a great deal of work to do, so you might as well get to it.” Josh and Simon left. Their immediate recognition of his authority gratified Alec. If 38

The Widow‟s Revenge they succeeded, the two Vice Presidents might keep their jobs. However, a few others would be looking for work. Still, Alec remained unsatisfied. His body‟s constant state of semi-arousal forced him to admit that he wanted the woman in black to recognize his authority as well. He wanted her to know that she couldn‟t control him. Once she learned that, they could work on establishing a more equitable relationship. As it was right now, all the power was on her side. That would change as soon as he got his hands on her. Hours later Alec stared out the floor to ceiling windows of his office at the evening skyline of New York City coming alive with lights. With any luck the plan to correct his father‟s disastrous policy would be in place by next week. Despite the eventful morning, the rest of the day passed without any further crisis demanding his attention. He‟d been lucky because he couldn‟t stop thinking about the woman in black. Nor could he stop remembering the feel of her lips on his rod or her hands on his ass. Memories rushed back of that first, silent encounter at the charity masquerade a few short weeks ago. Dressed as Camille, her pale skin flushed rosy, her back arched, her lips open in ecstasy as wave upon wave of orgasms struck her body. He scrubbed his hands over his face. Lord what was wrong with him? He was obsessed with the woman, but why? He‟d had sex with dozens of beautiful women, experimented widely in a full range of sexual exploits, perfecting his technique and learning his preferences. He should be too jaded to think about any woman as much as he thought about his widow. It had to be the mystery surrounding her, that and the need for control in all aspects of his life. Whatever the reason, he was obsessed, and practicality alone demanded he find release from the lure she held for him. The best way to do that was to have her and have her again until she 39

admitted his control of her and his desire was sated. However, before he could have her, he had to find her. His security chief had rushed through the reports of the evidence gathered from the elevator, the cylinder, and the invitation that she‟d put in Alec‟s pocket. He‟d read every word then tossed the thick folder to the floor. The information was useless. The evidence connected to no one with any record at any agency. She‟d worn no gloves in the elevator. Either she‟d been careless, or she knew the evidence would lead nowhere. All sorts of DNA, hair, epithelial and other evidence had been gathered. Some of it even matched prints and epithelial evidence taken from the invitation and envelope. And hadn‟t that been a fun experience. He refused to let anyone else see the paper, so his security team was forced to teach him how to gather evidence. Alec didn‟t want anyone knowing about the tryst in Tahoe, not until he knew he had other means of getting his hands on the lady in black. Now he knew. The only way to get her where he wanted her—wrapped around him like saran wrap on a sandwich—was bow to her control one more time and go to Tahoe. That he would go ate at him, because she was still calling the shots. That wasn‟t acceptable, and she would learn it the minute he found her. He typed an instant message to his secretary to clear his schedule for the first week in December. He was going to take some personal time. Because he did not want to be disturbed during his vacation, he wasn‟t leaving an address. He would also make his own travel arrangements, having all paperwork forwarded to his home. Normally, three weeks would pass in a blink, given the pace at which he worked, especially with the death benefits crisis. A solution for that problem had to be in place before he left. Nonetheless, he suspected that the next three weeks would drag. She would pay for that, for forcing him to slow down and think not just about her but about his life now that his father 40

The Widow‟s Revenge was dead and beyond accountability or defiance.

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Chapter Four Lake Tahoe, December 6th Alec searched the closet and dresser drawers of the large bedroom. No ID. She was smart, so he‟d hardly expected to be that lucky. However, tucked inside the toe of a penny loafer he found a cylinder identical to the one his mystery woman had used in the elevator three weeks ago. The initial evidence report identified the remnants from that cylinder as a sexual stimulant. Unfortunately, that was the extent of his knowledge, as the full report hadn‟t been completed before he left for Tahoe. He pocketed the cylinder taken from her shoe for later use, then carried his suitcase over to one of the two wing back chairs facing the floor to ceiling window that looked out over the ski slopes and the mountains. He set the case on the floor, stripped off his jacket and froze in the act of draping it over the chair back. You made me love you. Even though he'd never heard her sing, he'd know that dusky voice anywhere. How appropriate. He grinned as the song trailed off into a gurgle. His grin broadened. Arriving while she showered was even better than getting here before her. The semi-erection he'd developed during the drive through the mountains became granite hard. He removed his belt and tie then opened the top two buttons of his shirt. He kicked his shoes off and nudged them under the nearest chair. His hand went to his belt buckle and halted, although his hard-on strained painfully at the confines of his slacks. He felt himself frown. Why hesitate? We both know where we’re headed. We're just going there a little earlier than she planned. 42

The Widow‟s Revenge His face relaxed as he imagined her slim body all creamy pink, water droplets dancing over the curves and pooling in the hollows. His mouth went dry at the thought of licking up all that water. Yeah, she's gonna get a lot more than she planned. The door opened behind him, and he turned. She stood just outside the bathroom, a towel tied around her body. She rubbed a second towel briskly over her bent head, wet locks of hair flying with every stroke. The picture was sexy enough, but Alec wanted more than a sexy image. He wanted her name, her history. He wanted her to be the woman who could ease the emptiness inside him. If she was anything like his memories, she could do the job. Yet, he was wary despite his obsession with her. His manipulative, self-centered father had taught Alec that power was everything and desire only made a man weak. He‟d learned elsewhere the value of individual human beings. That a kind word often meant he didn‟t have to use his iron fist. That protecting himself didn‟t require thoughtless cruelty. Nonetheless, his father‟s lessons were ingrained, so even when someone fascinated Alec, he held back the tender, vulnerable pieces of his character. He much preferred pursuing to being pursued. That was one reason for his obsession with the widow. She pursued him, yet remained sufficiently elusive to rouse his hunter‟s instincts. Shifting the balance of power between them had become a dance that he could not resist joining, a dance so fascinating that he ardently wanted it to continue well into the future. However, that pipe dream had no basis in reality. No, the next few days with her would be an interlude, intense and prolonged, but an interlude nonetheless. He knew why he was here and was eager to begin. Sipping water from her skin seemed like a darned good place to start. Frowning, he eyed the cotton terry sheet that covered her elegant frame. Can I be jealous of a towel? He strode across the room, seized the loose 43

knot above her breasts and twitched away the offending cloth. Her body stilled, but she didn't lift her head. "You're early." She lowered her remaining towel to her face as she stood upright. Lord she was cool, and he was so very hot for her. "I'd say I'm right on time," he growled then reached for her wrist. She scuttled out of range into the bathroom. Anger flared. Why did she shield herself from him? Part of the reason he'd accepted her invitation was because in bed she'd have no place to hide. Another part, a more immediate part, strained at his pants despite the lack of belt and the loosened button. His zipper yielded an inch to increasing pressure. "What's wrong?" Alec demanded. His glance scanned her body, purposely lingering on her breasts and mons, taking visual ownership of her before returning to her face. "You invited me here for this. Didn't you? Or did you change your mind?" The small towel still hid all of her face below her eyes. The cloth was too short to hide much else. "Nothing, nothing's wrong. Yes, I did invite you, and no, I haven't changed my mind." "Then what are you hiding from?" "I'd hardly say I'm hiding." She eyed her nakedness. His glance followed hers down her body. Her turgid nipples announced her arousal. An echoing flush intensified the pinkness remaining from her shower. Her waist dipped neatly above gently rounded hips and between her slender thighs. . . damn. "If you're not hiding, why did you shave?" As he said the words, he reminded himself that the old saw about hair color wasn‟t reliable. Was he so hungry for information about her that he‟d grasp at anything? Be careful, he warned himself. I may want this woman more than any other woman I’ve ever met, but I came here to control her not the other way around. She shook her head. "That's ridiculous. Many women shave for comfort and convenience." 44

The Widow‟s Revenge He stood there waiting, hoping that his silence would unnerve her. Her eyes flitted from side to side. Did she have doubts, or was she afraid? In either case, that shifting gaze was the a sign of weakness. "It's just. . . I'm not ready yet. You weren't supposed to be here for an hour. I need more time." Why the hesitation? Was that pause more of her act, like sagging against the wall of the elevator? Or was this evidence that her vulnerability was more than an act? Regardless, it wasn‟t a smart move when she stood naked in front of a man she‟d been teasing for more than a month. Intentionally or not she‟d given him a prime opportunity to take charge. It was past time to start calling the shots. "Fine." The word rushed forward on a breath of frustration. "Call me when you're ready." He grabbed his jacket and was halfway to the stairs before she said, "No, don‟t go." He stopped. "Please, stay here," the siren's voice urged. "Make yourself comfortable. I won‟t be long." The bathroom door banged shut behind him. He unclenched the fist he hadn't realized he'd formed. Comfortable! Impatient, he stalked over to the chairs, deposited his things and began to strip. Oh he'd make himself comfortable all right. Alec surveyed the room once more, while he took off his shirt and tossed it to the chair where his tie and belt lay. Too bad there wasn't a door at the top of the stairs. He extracted a small but high-powered digital recorder from his coat. Setting the machine to record, he placed it on the chair beneath the folds of his jacket. Next, he removed his pants and boxers. He dropped them over his shirt and took a package of condoms from his pocket. Then he 45

grabbed the other chair, dragged it across the room and positioned it in front of the stairway, the only way out. He didn't know what this woman had planned. She might be dressing right now with the idea of escape, of avoiding their encounter. It wouldn't happen. Not until he'd seen her face clearly and found out who she was. If he were a different kind of man, he might force her. Her written invitation was evidence that she wanted sex with him and would prove sufficient defense in the hands of a good lawyer. However, Alec didn't operate that way. People made mistakes and should be given every opportunity to back out when they did. He‟d give her a chance, but he‟d make damned sure she wouldn‟t take it. He'd gone to considerable trouble over this woman, rearranging his schedule at a critical time in his company‟s survival and traveling halfway across the country just for the chance to fuck her for a week and get her out of his system. She owed him something. He decided her name, contact information and true identity were the payment she'd have to give. What he hadn‟t decided was whether or not he‟d take payment before or after she got between the sheets with him. He wanted to get between the sheets with her—between her legs, all the way inside her body and her mind. As much as he wanted to fuck her, he wanted to make her ask for it. He wanted to push her past the point of desire and need into begging, to the point where he and his penis were as necessary as air. He longed for that almost as much as he needed a clear look at her face and her real name on his lips. **** Maggie deftly applied the make-up that would obscure the contours of her face. Then she carefully arranged her auburn hair. She loved the new color even more than the blonde she‟d chosen 46

The Widow‟s Revenge for the Camille disguise. She didn‟t regret the loss of the platinum shade, and she certainly didn‟t regret the moments spent with Jane who, despite being hired, turned out to be a considerate and talented sexual partner. Who knew that making love with a woman could be so thrilling? However, Maggie knew herself well. She didn‟t mind an occasional walk on the wild side, but nothing could substitute for a rock hard penis filling her vagina, spurting in rhythm with her own orgasm. No, the real thrill from that lesbian encounter had been knowing that Alec Carter sat watching every lascivious move, wishing that he could be the one fucking her, not some woman‟s fingers. When she reviewed the video from that night, the longing Maggie saw on his face was particularly gratifying and matched the lust for him that she continued with limited success to squelch. She patted her hair and took a final glance in the mirror. The colorist had done an excellent job. Not a root of the blond or her original color showed. She didn‟t want a single identifying trait revealed. Satisfied that her disguise remained in place she eased open the bathroom door. Through the narrow space, she surveyed what she could see of the bedroom. Had he left? Had months of planning and work been for nothing? No. His clothing lay flung across the back of the chair near the window, all of his clothing. She mentally took note of the boxers dangling off a wing. The other chair was missing. So where was he, and where was the other wingback? She opened the door wide enough to stick her head out and craned her neck until she saw him. The missing wingback blocked the only access to the lower floor—unless she wanted to jump the railing or climb out a window onto the roof. She didn‟t. He sat there in that prosaic chair, like some exotic sultan awaiting a delinquent concubine. 47

He‟d planted his feet squarely on the floor, knees parted, lean muscled thighs relaxed. The erection that strained upward from his hips would do any bull proud. Her vagina contracted and musky juices dampened her labia. Even though she already knew intimately every inch of that impressive cock, she swallowed audibly. “Don‟t worry. . . . ” Her head jerked upward to the gleaming topaz that blazed above his smile, a smile that did nothing to reassure her. “…You already know it won‟t bite,” he said. Fascinated and a little bit frightened, she followed his gaze down to that pulsing column. “Although I probably will,” he continued. She looked up again, lingering only a moment on the broad chest and the dark hairs that whorled around his flat nipples. “You…you bite?” She asked hoping that the spear of amber light in his eyes didn‟t belong to a pervert. “Only when it feels good.” His teeth showed white and hard as easy to see as his confidence that he‟d gained the upper hand. She reminded herself that she had to do this for her sanity—to get her life back, to avenge David and the employees this man had cheated. But she couldn‟t go through with it, if she didn‟t have control of the situation. So how did she regain it? Hit ‘em where they least expect it, her college drama coach‟s words about how to manage an audience echoed in her head. The last thing Alec Carter would expect from her was a frontal assault. Up to this point she‟d always approached him from odd directions. She‟d stayed at a distance that lured, but kept his touch from her. She‟d chosen angles that prevented a good solid look at her, much like the charity ball that masked her with a screen of glitter and disguise. While the make-up she wore now might be on par with a mask, nothing would shield her body from him once she stepped 48

The Widow‟s Revenge beyond the bathroom door. Ten to one he wouldn‟t expect a direct approach. He wouldn‟t expect her to be as naked as he was. She might despise the CEO in him, but her body longed to mate with the virile male who filled that role. While she still didn‟t understand how such an attraction was possible, she thanked the heavens for it. She could use it to make her vengeful dream a reality. She could use him, ruin him and walk away unscathed. She could do this. Taking courage in her hands, she let the door fall open and strode boldly into the bedroom, allowing the late afternoon light to gleam over her body and set the riot of deep red curls on her head afire. She watched him tense as she approached where he sat poised like a jungle cat at the sight of its next meal. His sleek muscles shone in the daylight that hid nothing, while her nipples tingled hard and swollen. His jutting erection announced both his intent and his desire while her channel spasmed hot and empty. His nest of night hued curls arrowed upward from his cock and spread like a flag across a muscled chest. That chest rose and fell with a calm, steady rhythm, while her breathing struggled raspy and too quick. Everything about him drew her, from his long feet and hands to the deceptively casual set of his shoulders and that bone-melting green-gold stare that pinned her in place. “You seem very certain, that a bite from you will feel good,” she said with studied lack of concern. “I wonder if you know how to handle a woman? Or are you a man who only knows how to please himself? Somehow, I thought you were different than the others.” She examined her nails, as if his skill as a lover were completely unimportant. As if she hadn‟t just issued a challenge that questioned his manhood. As if she weren‟t trembling in her four inch black stilettos. His eyelids narrowed, but his smile never wavered. If anything, his grin grew broader. “Darling, you have no idea how good my 49

teeth will feel on your skin at just the right moment. Take my word for it, you‟ll ask me to do it again.” He was too confident. She had to dent that self-assurance, get him off-balance. She wanted him needy and a bit desperate not confident and selfassured. She shrugged. “So you say.” To show how little he impressed, she turned her back on him, walking to the picture window and its unobstructed view of the mountains raking the sky. With every shift of her hips, she taunted him, stating with her body, you can’t tame me. I’m too wild for you to handle. She stopped in front of the glass, arms akimbo, and studied the snow covered scene beyond, as if the very sight of his wide chest, thick black hair, fierce golden eyes and generous mouth didn‟t turn her on in the slightest, didn‟t wrack her body with fine tremors or pool liquid warmth between her thighs. Lord help her, she could smell her own arousal. Either her plan was working entirely too well, or this was the worst idea she‟d ever had. His body heat seared her from behind the moment before his hands settled on her shoulders. Slowly, he pulled her toward him. The hairs on his chest scraped lightly over her upper back. His pulse throbbed hotly against her buttocks. He was so very hot, furnace hot, white star hot, and she gloried in that heat. She‟d been cold for so very long. Tempted to yield, to relax into that welcoming blaze, she edged away. I’m not the one who is supposed to be tempted here. I’m the one in control. Except I sure don’t feel like I’m in control. I feel shaky and needy, like I’ll die if he doesn’t make me cum right now. Yes, I’m allowed to enjoy this, but I’m not supposed to want it so desperately. He followed, pursuing the shoulder to toe contact established with his first touch, pushing their nested bodies forward. She gave 50

The Widow‟s Revenge up the useless attempt to escape what her inner core wanted most at this moment. Her respiration rate increased as she anticipated the coming impact with the clear surface in front of her. Heat flashed across her face and her body quivered. He continued, pressing her forward until her nipples struck the cold glass of the window. Her entire body contracted with the shock delivered to those two sensitive points. He paused, holding her body solidly against his, permitting only the very tips of her nipples to touch the freezing panes. What is he doing? Why stop? She was close to panting, like some dog eager for its master‟s petting. He kept her on the edge. She loved it. She wanted more, wanted it now. That was the real problem. He was controlling more than her body. She forced herself to relax, to breathe slower. Don‟t panic. Don‟t give him the satisfaction of seeing you wanting. Just enjoy the ride. That was the only hope she had of getting the upper hand in this battle of wills. Her glance met his gaze reflected in the window. She smiled. He frowned. Suddenly he pushed more, and then more, until she was sandwiched between his heated torso and the chilled glass. The shock of cold thrilled through her body, pulsing from scalp to toes and back. The floor to ceiling panes faced the mountains, not the street. Thank heavens. Still, anyone could choose to walk around the building—skiers often took that path as a short-cut to the slopes. If at that moment anyone did, they would get a full frontal view of her naked body and the masculine hands that streaked over her sides and arms, briefly touching, teasing, taunting, but never satisfying. She squirmed. Her empty vagina spasmed again, 51

releasing still more fluid. Then his penis slipped between her ass cheeks, and his hands covered her breasts, fingers plucking at her icy nipples. Need consumed her, and she moved against him wanting him to touch, to fuck, to dominate her everywhere, in every way, and then wanting. . . wanting. . . . What was it she wanted? Cold from the window panes spread deeper into her skin, calling her to coherent thought. She wanted him to touch her, use her, and conquer her? No! Not that, never that. She didn‟t, couldn‟t want any of that let alone all of it. She had to remember who he was. Why she was here. Why she allowed his delicious assault on her senses. She focused on the view beyond the windows. This was all wrong, even if it felt right. If destroying him was her goal, she wasn‟t doing a very good job. Ruining Alec Carter meant she had to dominate him, not the other way „round. She must use any means to get him into the bed with her. That‟s where the camera was focused to take the pictures that would destroy him. She‟d positioned it earlier to observe and film the activities on the bed. Right now, the bed was halfway across the room. Her plan would never work, if she didn‟t have evidence of his sexual activities, if she couldn‟t show him as a weak, puling supplicant dominated by desire and anyone strong enough to leash is passions. She trembled. Was she risking everything—honor, honesty, and personal privacy—for nothing? His mouth touched the spot between her shoulder and her neck. Her breath steamed against the window. His teeth scraped gently against her flesh and the tip of his penis prodded her tight, dry asshole. Her body jerked the tiniest bit then relaxed, and her mind tumbled into the immediate present, into the whirl of passion his touch incited. “That‟s not a bite,” she objected, reaching for the control that 52

The Widow‟s Revenge was fast disappearing in the haze of sensual overload created by the heat of his hands and the cold from the glass. “No it‟s not.” His voice stroked, deep and soft, past her ears, into her chest and resonated there. His hands eased from her breasts down her arms and circled her wrists, and his knees wedged between her unresisting thighs forcing them farther apart. In a blink, he had her spread-eagled against the glass that now fogged from their combined heat. She turned her head, hoping to catch a breath. The move exposed her ear. He trailed his tongue in a wicked caress over the whorls, and she writhed against the two hard surfaces that pinned her in place. She felt his manhood slip more firmly between her cheeks, applying insistent pressure to her sphincter. “You‟re so beautiful. I didn‟t know. . . . ” He suckled her earlobe. She gasped, and her every fiber throbbed. He held himself, poised at her brink, waiting. His erection quivered, hot, heavy, pushing but not moving. His chest heaved against her back, as if he too struggled for air. “I‟ve wanted this feeling. . . touching you, skin to skin,” he said, his voice raw and needy. “I imagined what it would be like, to have you. Hot. Willing. Wet, for me—just me.” He moved his hips, rubbing that muscled pulse against her tender pucker. “I want you. But you‟ve got to tell me you want it.” She couldn‟t breathe. Why could this man make her body sing? She hardly knew him. She didn‟t want to know him. Why did his mere presence bring her so much joy? Her first sight of him had produced an intense and undeniable reaction. Maybe she was as bad as he, because she couldn‟t feel the revulsion at his invasion of her body that she knew she should feel. At this moment when she should feel nothing but loathing, she discovered she couldn‟t hate him. If she weren‟t very careful, she‟d feel too much, care too much 53

for this man who cared nothing for anyone. It’s just sex, she reminded herself, nothing more. He released one wrist and giving a swift stroke of his palm down her side, worked his hand between her and the glass to plunge three fingers into her pussy, slick and creamy with the juices that flooded her sex since she first glimpsed him naked in that wingback. Those fingers worked her G-spot, producing a steady stream of feminine cum. “Tell me you want this,” he insisted then applied more pressure with his cock and hips. She‟d lost the will to speak, tease, resist. A long groan eased from her lips as his fingers plunged and plunged again. Then they were gone, and she whimpered until she felt him ease his hips slightly away. His fingers spread her steaming juices around her anus, and she gasped. She held her breath as one by one those fingers invaded her pucker loosening the tight hole and lubricating it with her own cum. “Say yes,” he panted. He sounded as desperate as she felt. His fingers ceased their massage, and his cock once more pressed against her asshole. His hand now gently guided the slow shift of her hips to match his. The guidance was hardly necessary, she knew—he had to know—she was helping him. “Say it. Beg me to fuck your ass.” he demanded, his voice hoarse with restraint, even as his rod pressed into her pucker. Though he was not quite inside yet, she felt the involuntary open and close of the sphincter and the echoing flutters of contraction in her womb. “No. . . ” she managed unwilling to surrender this last link with control. He stopped moving, poised there on the aching, throbbing, empty brink of her. He released her other wrist and lifted his chest from her back. Cold air rushed along her spine and she shivered. Her butt cheeks clenched at his penis. Did she want to draw him 54

The Widow‟s Revenge in? Did she actually want that long thick flesh pole shoved up her ass? It wasn‟t as if she‟d never done this before, but with one special man only, and he was dead. Dear God in heaven she was on the verge of the ultimate betrayal, of allowing an enemy to share an intimacy that was hers and David‟s alone. Her throat clogged. One soft, aching sob of loss and regret escaped. Warm palms soothed up her back from coccyx to shoulders, massaging, loosening the knot tight muscles, easing the tension in her spine. Heat sparkled beneath her skin. When her body began to relax, he smoothed her hair back from her face and lay his cheek against her ear. “Sssh. It‟s all right.” His lips whispered then trailed a shimmering path to her nape where he pressed the most tender kiss. “You don‟t have to do this.” His gentleness undid her, and the inner battle between longing and grief shook her entire body. He didn‟t, couldn‟t understand. She had to do this. To gain his full trust she had to allow him to invade her body in every possible way. To achieve the ultimate revenge she had to make him believe she wanted him in every possible way. To banish fears she couldn‟t even name, she had to let him use her however he wished. Only then could she escape the prison built by grief and loss. Only then would she truly be able to breathe, live and love again. She almost wept in a confusion of disgust and need as she shifted her hips against his, searching for that harmonious rhythm she had barely recognized as necessary until it was gone. The gap between them widened, his penis the sole link to satisfying the desperate need burgeoning within her. “Wait.” The word struggled from her. She couldn‟t think. She clung to the cold window glass, an inanimate symbol of the clarity of purpose that slipped from her mental grasp with every moment. 55

“Which is it?” he murmured with incredible patience. “Yes, no or wait?” Her breath came in shallow gasps as she tried to get the words out. She panted, until her thoughts cleared a bit, then she finally surrendered to the care and tenderness his actions promised. “Yes. It‟s yes. I want you, inside my slit, inside my ass. Everywhere and anywhere you want. I have to have you.” He planted kiss on her temple. His fingers slid along her jaw and turned her face toward his. Their lips met, tongues touched and probed in a delicate, easy mating that belied the thundering of her heart and the quickening in her thighs and belly. “Let me take care of you,” he murmured. Then he left her. The separation was physically painful every nerve fired in an agony of denial. “No! Don‟t. . . . ” He was back, before she could finish the protest. His body warmed hers. His hands caressed and explored, learned what pleased, what titillated. While he cherished her body, his erection pushed between her buttocks until once more he pressed hot and heavy against the brink of her anus. Her sensitive ass recognized a difference in the texture of his phallus. He wore a condom. Some of the rubble blocking her heart crumbled to dust and blew away. He had taken care of her, of them both, protecting even as he pursued. At long, very long, last the pressure on her rear increased by slow increments. “I will never leave you unsatisfied." Leaning into her, he breathed the words over her nape, scraping his teeth against the tension there then soothing it with his tongue. Goosebumps skittered across her over-sensitized flesh. She pressed back against him, tilting her hips, and felt his glans push fully inside her. 56

The Widow‟s Revenge His hands tightened on her hips, holding her still. She moaned a protest. She wanted to move. “Oh, no, Baby. We‟re taking this at my pace." He eased the knob of his cock halfway out of her anus to that excruciating point of almost in. “Please,” she groaned. “I‟m begging you. I can‟t wait any longer.” “All right.” His mouth smiled against her nape. “Since you begged.” He eased back inside adding an inch or so of length, swiveling his hips, rubbing and stretching her insides with every shift. “I can‟t stand this.” “I know you can.” He pulled outward then pushed in deeper. Out again. In deeper still. Every thrust was an agony of pleasure, but she wanted more. She leaned back against him, creating a small space between her and the still chilly glass of the window. Just enough space so that her nipples, hard and pointed scraped away the mist that clung there and obscured the view of their bodies from outside. “That‟s right. Tease those beautiful globes.” He licked at her neck, his rhythm slow and steady as he fucked her ass. It still wasn‟t enough. “More,” she insisted, as she felt him swell and pulse within her. He was driving her insane. “That‟s exactly what I want,” he told her. “More. A whole lot more.” He reached around to her pussy and strummed his fingers quickly over her nub once, twice then again. His cock took up an answering rhythm, and her hips picked up the chorused movement. He thrust faster, stroking her outside and in. She felt full, stretched, and she pleaded for release. The glass embraced her like a second lover. Her nipples ached. Faster. Harder. Her 57

back arched, and a keening cry broke from her lips. His teeth sank into her nape. She felt him strain against her, thrusting violently, as she disintegrated in his arms. Huge shudders wracked through his body into hers, and a hoarse cry escaped him. Chests heaving, they gasped for air. Their pulses dropped, separating into individual beats. Tension shuddered away its last throb of existence, and she slid down the surface of the window. Her body still molded to his, they slipped boneless to the floor. Replete, she lay atop his hot, solid flesh, his penis still clasped within her ass channel. His chest heaved next to her ear. She listened to his heartbeat slow. Alec wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close. Then he turned to his side, his back to the cold glass, shielding her, using that predatory determination to protect her. She drifted, absolutely, supremely secure in this stranger‟s embrace at the same time that she was shaken to the core. What had happened to her in that unexpected moment of tenderness and understanding when he‟d said, "you don’t have to do this?" He‟d spoken of letting him fuck her ass, or had he? Had he meant more? Had he meant that she didn‟t have to pursue him, tease him, ruin him? He couldn‟t possibly know that was her aim. In truth, she wasn‟t certain any more what might be her goal. All she knew was that grief had wounded her soul. Alec was the cause of that wound. He had to be the means for healing. If that was true, what kind of healing did she think she‟d get with revenge? Was it healing to be thoroughly dominated, completely fucked and so happy with the experience that she couldn‟t wait for more? She was losing her mind. Being happy because of Alec didn‟t make sense. The skin on her brow tightened. Climactic euphoria faded. What was she doing? Ever since David died, she‟d floated through life in a haze of heartache, pushed from point to point at the whim of those around her, including Carter Enterprises‟ CEO. The man didn‟t even know 58

The Widow‟s Revenge her or David—honorable, loyal, trusting David, who died obeying Alec Carter‟s impersonal order for someone the ignorant SOB’s in that backwater would trust to check out the plant ostensibly for sale. Because of that blind obedience and the corporation‟s indifference, she‟d lost her husband, her financial means, and nearly lost herself. No, she couldn‟t want this utter submission to that same man. The only reason she needed more sex with Alec Carter was that she hadn‟t recorded the depths of his depravity. The earth shattering orgasms were simply a temporary side benefit. Revenge alone would provide permanent and complete relief to her ravaged heart and soul. Like orgasms, any tenderness that occurred in the process of gaining revenge was fleeting. She‟d lost control of the situation because Alec behaved unexpectedly, tapping into a need she hadn‟t acknowledged. She had to guard against that. She couldn‟t afford to lose herself in wild desire every time. She‟d had no idea that a man could make her feel so powerful, meek and sated all at once. He‟d shattered her ideas about making love. She had to take greater care, or he might shatter her resistance to him entirely. If that happened, her soul would suffer more than wounds. It would die. Was she willing to risk that? She didn‟t think so. In order to pursue revenge she had to keep him from knowing how vulnerable she was? He could never know the smallest detail about her true self, not even her name. That would be her protection, her armor against his devastating tenderness. For David, for her sanity, for her own safety, she could never let this very temporary lover know who she was. She shifted trying to put some distance between them. “Tell me,” his voice rumbled in her ear. “Who are you?”

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Chapter Five Lake Tahoe, December 6th Reluctant to let her go, Alec tightened his arm around her. Nonetheless, she eased away from him, and his cock slid from her body. She turned to face him, still within arm‟s reach. “No, I will not tell you my name or anything personal about me. That‟s a condition of our time together. Respect that, or I‟m out of here.” Her withdrawal left him uneasy and dissatisfied when it should have pleased him. He‟d always preferred pursuing to being pursued, preferred challenge to contentment, but holding her had been as satisfying as overcoming her hesitant resistance. He‟d thought before that there might be more to his fascination with her than mere elusiveness. Maybe he hoped—foolishly—that by overcoming her resistance about her name and her identity he would find a deeper emotional satisfaction, one that would sustain him after their interlude ended. “Holding back your identity is hardly fair. You know who I am.” “It would be impossible not to recognize you, Mr. Carter.” The smile she gave him was cool and detached, creating distance just like her physical shift away from him. He squashed a rush of hurt and anger. Moments ago she‟d been blazing hot, begging for him, for what he could give her and as she did, filling the empty, needy places in his soul. Now her actions denied that heat and gave the lie to his sense of fulfillment and completion. Her cool expression said he could have been anyone, that he was unimportant to her passion, that he was nothing but a cock in a hole. He‟d had too much of that kind of dismissive 60

The Widow‟s Revenge detachment in his life. He wouldn‟t stand for it any longer, not from his management team, not from his dead father and certainly not from her. Now that he‟d breached her emotional barriers once, he knew how to do it again. To eliminate the emptiness that had him chasing every challenge, he would use her own tactics against her. Tease, tantalize, titillate, drive her mad with sensory overload until she lost her ability to hold back and told him everything he wanted to know. To do that he had to convince her he could be cooler and more distant than she, even while he burned to have her again. More sex would be great, but it wouldn‟t be enough. It wouldn‟t satisfy that tiny insecure piece of him that needed her unique strengths to hold him together. Only a strength of will like hers could yield itself, lay itself bare to a firestorm of pursuit and survive the inferno. So he needed her for more than sex. Letting her see that need was too risky. He also needed to maintain the upper hand. To do that he had to get her name and more. He needed as much information as possible. Knowledge was power, power that would allow him to keep her as long as he desired, that would allow him to say when they were finished. “After what we just did, I think you‟d better call me Alec.” “All right, Alec. For years, the TV networks, papers, magazines, even the social networks have talked about little else but the CEO of Carter Enterprises.” “I don‟t care if the gossip mongers have been singing Bye Bye Blackbird in their tighty whiteys. I want to know who you are. Your likes, dislikes, family, friends, profession, your real hair color, I want to know everything there is to know about you.” He gave himself a mental shake. Now he‟d done it. Even though his tone had been off-handed, he‟d let his feelings run away with him, and she was smart enough to figure out that she mattered to him 61

for more than sex. That was no way to maintain control. She shook her head. “Sorry Alec. This point is not negotiable. I‟ll give you twenty-four hour access to my body for a week, as you will give me access to yours, but I will not allow you into my life. Is that understood?” “I understand, but I don‟t like it, and don‟t expect me to accept it without trying to discover as much as I can about you.” He spoke with studied calm, practicing the cool detachment he knew he needed to show even as he defied her restrictions. She was being up front with him about those restrictions. He might as well be frank with her. “If it‟s any consolation,” she said. “I neither expect nor want to be allowed into your life beyond this week.” “If you mean that to be reassuring, it isn‟t. What if you‟re married and I get drawn into some tawdry divorce scandal?” Her face paled a bit then she gave a weak smile. “I‟m not married. I‟ll tell you that much.” “So that black dress you wore in the elevator. You were mourning your husband?” She waggled a finger in front of him. “No personal questions and definitely no answers.” He thrust his fingers through his hair, resenting both her calm and her reticence. “Damnit, at least tell me your name.” She shook her head. “I need to call you something.” “That‟s fair enough. Why don‟t you call me Camille.” “I guess. It‟s who you pretended to be the first time we met.” A small part of him wanted confirmation that Camille had been nothing but a disguise. A larger part hoped that somewhere in her he would find that elusive satisfaction he‟d pursued all these years. He‟d had it for those few moments after their orgasm and before she moved away. He wanted it again. He wanted to know her, the 62

The Widow‟s Revenge woman beneath the pretense, the one who came apart in his arms. Because he knew for certain she wasn‟t faking that. “Maybe I was pretending and maybe not.” She wouldn‟t commit, leaving open the possibility that the blonde, the delicate playmate of a lesbian was the true woman, and the strong, passionate, yielding lover was a sham. “You really aren‟t going to give me any clue about you or your identity.” “Sorry. That‟s the way it‟s got to be.” Why for God‟s sake? What was so precious about her identity that she couldn‟t share it with him? Was she a murderess or some other sort of criminal? Was she on the run? Hiding from dangerous pursuers? Why wouldn‟t she trust him to protect her when she trusted him with her body? Maybe she was just plain stubbornly defiant? Maybe she was paranoid and belonged in a mental institution? The thought was almost funny. He‟d been spinning fantasies of healing his private emotional hurts in the strength of a woman who might be a nutcase. Although anything was possible, he doubted that she was either a criminal or a nut job. What and who she was he would discover in time. He had most of a week to do the job. For the time being he had little alternative but to concede. He promised himself the concession would only last as long as it took to discover what he wanted to know. “Fine, now come here. I need more of you.” He followed her gaze down his body to where his penis rose thick rigid and pulsing. “You recover quickly, but before we go another round, I‟d like to shower and eat.” He gave an easy grin. “Why wait? We can go another round as you put it in the shower and then again while we have lunch.” A slow answering grin stretched her mouth and caused his heart to race. Standing she looked him over as he lay at her feet. 63

“Last one in the shower has to cook lunch.” He reached for her ankle. She skipped away before he could get a grip. He caught up with her as she opened the glass door into the huge shower enclosure. They stumbled together across the threshold and ended mouths, arms, legs atangle, leaning against the far wall. Alec licked the inner surfaces of her mouth, unable to get enough of her succulent flavor. She stabbed her tongue between his lips, using the muscled spear to fuck his mouth. Her hard little nipples poked into his chest, and her hands smoothed around his waist to grip and fondle his buttocks. Sensation quivered down his spine and had his hips thrusting his rock hard erection against her soft belly. If something didn‟t happen soon, he‟d shoot off before he could get inside her. He lifted one arm away and stretched to reach the faucet. She pressed closer to him, sucking his tongue as if she could suck out his soul. His fingers found the lever and pushed it upward. Camille shouted and leapt away from him. Cold water needled him in the face, and the urgency driving his still hard shaft lessened a tiny bit. “Why‟d you do that?” She looked like a drowned kitten. Water soaked her hair and shimmered across her profile. Her face took on an ethereal cast, confirming his suspicion that she used make up to modify her features. It didn‟t matter. He‟d recognize her in the dark. Water poured over her arms, crossed to shield her breasts from the chill, and formed rivulets that shed to her mons, down her thighs and from there to the tiled floor where the liquid puddled around her slim feet. Alec couldn‟t restrain a grin, even though he was shivering, too. He adjusted the faucet handle for a hotter temperature. “I was trying for warm.”

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The Widow‟s Revenge “I. . . don't. . . think. . . you found it.” Her teeth actually chattered. He stepped closer to her and drew her into his arms, stroking hair away from her face as the water changed from cold to merely chilly. “Poor baby. Want big daddy Alec to warm you up?” Smiling, he offered comfort as bait. She‟d baited him, hadn‟t she, with that lesbian performance and cosmic cock-sucking? Why not turn the tables and lure her to where he had complete control. She liked to cum very much. Her body told him so. Once under his thumb, he could bring her to the edge of orgasm and keep her there until she told him everything he wanted to know. Finally he had a plan that he knew would work. He smiled more. First to get her so addicted to his body that she‟d be unable to resist a single one of his demands. The water temp was sneaking toward warm. Good, he‟d use this time in the shower to set his trap. “Sit here.” He guided her down to a bench at the far end of the stall. “I‟ll be right back.” “Alec?” He moved around the shower enclosure, turning on the water for all five shower heads, adjusting the water pressure, temperature and the angle of each head to suit him. Then he returned to Camille. Grabbing a towel from the high shelf just outside the shower, he made a thick pad of the terrycloth and placed it on the floor before her feet. Then he knelt on the pad and took her in his arms until she and the water temperature both turned steamy warm. She nibbled on his ear and sucked at his neck. “I feel better now. Thank you.” He ran his hands over her thighs and squeezed her buttocks, running his fingers along her crack from ass to mons and back. He tilted his head to look at her. “You‟re welcome. Warm enough 65

now?” **** “Almost.” She slanted an inviting glance up at him and wriggled her bottom. His enthusiasm made it easy to keep up the pretense that she wanted him just for sex, so easy that she nearly believed it herself. She pushed firmly away those moments of tenderness and security in his arms. She didn‟t need the confusion; didn‟t really need him save as the object of her revenge. “Well, we can‟t have you even a little bit cold.” He placed her back on the edge of the bench and spread her knees as wide as they would go. Her labia felt swollen and contractions pulsed in her belly. An itchy tingle intensified by the patter of water trilled across her skin in a sing-song of hunger for Alec‟s touch. She watched him stare at her sex his eyes wide with wonder and admiration. She followed his gaze to where her legs splayed. The tiny head of her clit stuck out from between the upper folds like a little pink tongue, daring him to do something about the gesture. He reached his hand out but stopped short of touching. “You are beautiful.” He whispered, like a worshipful supplicant before a priestess. She would die if he didn‟t taste her, suck her, nibble her, lick her and eat her cum. She would die if he did, if she betrayed her purpose yet again and took joy in their mutual pleasure instead of savoring this as another step in the road to his downfall. As she stared with him at the seam of her nether lips pearls of fluid formed then blended with the trickle of water that reached her from the shower heads. Alec‟s gaze traveled up her body lingering a moment on her breasts, admiring the tight buds and pebbled areolas before 66

The Widow‟s Revenge continuing to her face. Suddenly the air was too thick and steamy. Maggie opened her mouth, breathing in tiny gasps that jiggled her breasts. His gold-green eyes took on that predatory gleam. He licked his lips. Her mouth went dry. He planned on giving her a nice fat orgasm. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in the careful tension of his fingers as he lowered them to the crease between hip and thigh. She‟d bet money that he hoped to have her begging again. He might even get what he hoped for. She would get what she planned on too. Revenge was in reach if she could just keep herself under control. For at this moment her greatest danger came not from Alec but from the unexpected and unwanted feelings that stirred whenever he touched her. His head bent moving toward her steamy cleft. Her thighs tensed in anticipation. Then he stopped and lifted his head once more. God would he please just get on with it? She nearly growled her displeasure but managed to keep the words to herself. He cast her a glance full of raised eyebrows and mock innocence. “I think I want lunch first.” She couldn‟t help but grin nor could she repress her small chuckle. With his hair plastered to his head and water dripping from his chin he was too endearingly goofy to resist. “Go ahead and eat your fill. My stomach can wait for a while, but my pussy‟s getting impatient.” “That‟s a shame.” The mock innocence became mock solemnity. “Because I plan to take my time. Somehow she didn‟t think her pussy would mind. He lifted her legs draping her knees over his shoulders. Her heels hit his back just over his kidneys. Her calves slid against his water-slicked skin. He gripped her under the tops of her thighs, lifting and adjusting the angle of her hips for easiest access. Then he skimmed his mouth up the soft inner skin of one thigh. 67

“Hmmm. You smell of freshly washed woman.” It was a ridiculous thing to say considering they were both soaked to the skin but charming and endearing in its silliness. She struggled valiantly with herself, denying the happiness that burbled in a dim corner of her heart. Then his lips settled over that tiny pink protrusion, and he touched the tip of his tongue to her distended clit. Her body jolted at the contact. She‟d waited so long, anticipated so much that—even though she‟d known it would happen— shockwaves of surprise quaked through her. He touched harder. Her thighs gripped his head. The burble became a roaring torrent, but Maggie scarcely noticed as her body surrendered, taking with it her mind and all thought of resistance and control. He had the bit in his teeth now alternating light scrapes of her nubbin with long soothing strokes of his tongue that left her begging. The odor of her honey mixed with the ozone of the water and his male scent. He lapped at her juices before returning to the pleasant torture of her clit. She writhed against his face. “Alec, please, what are you waiting for?” “This is just an appetizer, baby.” She gripped his hair and pulled. “I need more. Now!” “Okay.” He sank his thumbs up to the last knuckle into her crease and worked them around, in and out, over and over, and again and again. At the same time he clamped down on her engorged clit and sucked for all he was worth, his tongue flicking at her slick nub all the while. From far way she heard a scream. She humped her mons into his mouth, and she pleaded with him not to "Stop, don‟t stop. I can‟t stand it. Never stop. Oh God I‟m coming.” ***** 68

The Widow‟s Revenge Man was she coming. Her juices, copious when he started, now gushed into his mouth and down his chin. He sucked and lapped and swallowed as fast as he could until he tasted nothing but clean water and her hips sagged motionless in his grip. Alec‟s only regret was that he hadn‟t been able to see glory take over her face and body, but he‟d felt it in every pore, tasted it in every honied drop. He was satisfied, for now. He could wait a little while for the chance to watch her climax with him hard inside her. He sat back, his butt squishing onto the soaked towel that had cushioned his knees. Spray from the shower drizzled over his shoulders. He looked at her limp body slumped to the side, her head resting against the wall at a ninety degree angle to her shoulders. An ecstatic smile stretching her lips. Her blue eyes gleamed. “You can‟t be comfortable like that. Come here.” He stretched out his arms to her. That same elusive satisfaction he‟d felt after fucking her ass returned only stronger, and he hadn‟t even gotten his rocks off. “I can‟t feel anything and couldn‟t move if I tried.” “Then I‟ll move for you.” Needing her in ways he didn‟t understand, he rose up onto his knees once more, gathered her in his arms then resumed his damp seat. “Hmmmm!” she purred against his chest. “Thank you.” “My pleasure. Literally.” It was an intense pleasure to pleasure her. Why couldn‟t she see that the intensity would be so much greater if she shared herself with him? The thought almost stole his euphoric afterglow, so he pushed that worry aside. Maybe later he‟d think about how she managed to hide herself from him in those moments when she was most exposed. She stirred enough to loop her arms around his neck. “I‟d like to do something just as nice for you.” 69

“You did.” He grinned. It was the first time she‟d truly offered herself. He‟d bet she didn‟t even realize what she‟d done. Perhaps her defenses were beginning to crack. He‟d have to see what he could do to widen the opening she just gave. She quirked an eyebrow. Careful, he warned himself. Don‟t get too cocky, or she‟ll close up again. “In the elevator,” he reminded her. “The first day we actually spoke.” “Oh. But that was several weeks ago.” She loosed her hold on his neck and sat up. “I want to do something now.” Her bottom rubbed his erection reminding him that he‟d been hard for a comparatively long time. “You could scrub my back.” She twisted her body and eyed his penis. “Oooh. What a good idea, as long as I can scrub some other things too.” “I don‟t think that will be a problem.” Whatever she might do to him besides scrubbing his back would level the field in her eyes and lull her into thinking she still kept herself from him. She didn‟t need to know that she was going exactly where he wanted or that he intended for her to continue following where he led. She stood and stepped over to the large soap dish. “What‟s your preference? Bar soap, gel, or exfoliating scrub?” He rose to his feet and began increasing the water pressure on the various shower heads, changing the hand-helds from spray to pulse. “Why not try a little of each. You choose the order.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I love a man who can be flexible.” She‟d dropped another sliver of information. To keep her talking without too much thinking he‟d turn himself into a pretzel. “Do me a favor,” she continued. “Stand in the middle of the shower, put your hands on your hips and your feet a little more than shoulder width apart.” 70

The Widow‟s Revenge “You know exactly what you want, don‟t you.” Letting her have her way wasn‟t just enjoyable but would also lull her into more unwary revelations. He smiled and stood ready to bend at her command. ***** “Yes, I do know what I want.” At least that‟s what Maggie wanted him to think. The truth was that other than luring him farther into her net with the best orgasm ever, she wasn‟t quite certain what she wanted. Revenge, yes, she was well on her way to getting that. If she got her revenge what would happen to all the delicious, delightful feelings she‟d had in the past few hours? That small fount of happiness reappeared and would not be ignored. If she was beginning to feel happiness now, if that life deadening grief was beginning to fade, what would she feel when she achieved her revenge and Alec was the one with the never ending pain? Would she exult in his fall, rejoice at the destruction of a man who‟d shown her tenderness, laughter and protection? Was she wrong? No, she couldn‟t be wrong. She had David‟s travel documents proving he‟d been ordered to a hazardous destination and the letters with Alec Carter‟s signature denying the insurance claim. If for the present she couldn‟t reconcile Alec the talented, demanding, thoughtful lover with Alec the greedy, unfeeling, corporate tyrant, she‟d have the rest of the week to figure it out. “Camille? Is something wrong?” A worried frown sat where his smile usually rested. Alec‟s question startled her from thought. Yes, too much was wrong and playing havoc with her plans and emotions. “No. I‟m sorry I was thinking.” “I‟ll say. I called your name three times before you finally came back to reality. We can stop if you like.” 71

“No. No. I promise. No more thinking.” At least not right now. Right now she would do all in her power to make certain that Alec became addicted to her. He had assumed the requested position. His erection jutted into the needle-like spray of the ceiling showerhead. She took a slim, half inch wide, piece of soap from the soap dish then walked around him studying him as if she couldn‟t make up her mind where to start, but she had something very specific in mind. Once behind him, she stroked her hand down his spine two or three times. His hips twitched in a tantalizing shimmy each time she reached his crack. He was more sensitive than any other man she‟d known. His body responded eagerly to every touch and stroke. That responsiveness made her feel powerful and confident. All she had to do was maneuver him into the bedroom, and she would have the evidence necessary to ruin him. “Don‟t move. It‟s important that you remain very still and only move when I tell you. Understand?” As she spoke she reached between his legs with her empty hand and fondled his sac, squeezing gently then petting and cupping. In the elevator, she‟d taken him by surprise, and he had cooperated. Now that he knew what she was capable of, how would he take to receiving orders? Alec was a man who needed to be in charge. If he obeyed her without protest or any attempt to take over, that would be evidence that he was beginning to need her like a junkie needs regular hits. His complete addiction to her would be a near certainty. Her conscience niggled. If you succeed in chaining him to you with sex, what will you have? Not a man who values you. Only a man who values the orgasms you can give him. That will stop the minute you ruin him. After that you’ll have his undying hatred. 72

The Widow‟s Revenge That small stream of happiness will dry to dust, and you’ll be back where you started or worse. Is that what you want? She had no answer. He groaned. “You‟re killing me.” “You ain‟t seen nothin‟ yet.” “Should I be worried?” With one hand on his balls, she smoothed the bar of soap across his back starting at his shoulders and moving downward. The scent of lemon and verbena emerged with the suds and rose in the steamy air. “Maybe. A little fear can heighten sensations and make the response all the more intense.” Beneath her hands tremors shook his body. She took the vibrations as an indication of how badly he wanted release. He‟d want it more before she was done. She would make certain he felt every desperate moment of need for climax that he‟d caused her. Then would she go through with her plan to cause him the same desperate sense of loss that she‟d felt? Not for the first time she wondered if she could? She shook her head. Of course she‟d take her revenge. Justice demanded it. David‟s memory demanded it. Her wounded soul demanded it. If later she felt a twinge of regret for what might have been, she could assure herself that she never forced anything on Alec. He came to Tahoe and fucked her and let her fuck him, all on his own. No one made him do anything. He would be responsible for his own downfall. “Easy.” She leaned forward, placing her lips against a soap free spot on his back. “Relax. This will be over soon.” “Not too soon, I hope.” She chuckled as she began to spread soap over his butt cheeks. Her strokes flirted with his crack, dipping in quickly and withdrawing before he could do more than twitch at the sensation. She‟d lured him here to Tahoe the same way, by feint and 73

flirtation, and would continue to tantalize him in every way possible, letting him give her the tools of his own destruction. In the end she‟d hit hard and fast with those tools leaving him ruined, grieving and lonely. For the moment though, she let go of all thoughts of revenge, power and control and simply enjoyed stroking her sleek healthy male animal. It wasn‟t a weakness to enjoy Alec‟s body. It really wasn‟t. As for that moment of happiness, that‟s all it was, a moment—brought on by the euphoria of orgasm. Any ridiculous hopes built on that moment were too insubstantial to stand the tests of time and vengeance. She left off fondling his balls to stroke his thighs and savor the textures of skin and hair. She watched his head loll forward as her strokes both with and without soap soothed and relaxed him. When his shoulders slumped and his hands fell from his hips, she swiped the skinny bar of soap down his crack from dimple to asshole. Finding his pucker, she angled the narrow end of the soap and pressed it into his ass as far as it would go. Was the action symbolic of her intentions? Perhaps. Those doubts still niggled, so she didn‟t know for certain. His head snapped up, and he gasped. “What the hell are you doing?” “Trust me,” she purred then slithered up his body, making certain that her hands and breasts stroked every inch of him. Grabbing the gel from the shelf, she squeezed a generous dollop into her palm. Then her hands slipped around to his front, taking hold of his stone hard cock, squeezing and rubbing until lemony lather foamed through his thighs and wicked up to tickle her slit. He reacted with an involuntary thrust of his hips that forced his ass to clench, and she shoved her pussy at his tight, smooth butt. Another gasping groan told Maggie she‟d successfully positioned the soap to press on his prostate. “God, you‟re going to kill me.” 74

The Widow‟s Revenge “No, you‟ll only die a little bit and in the most pleasant way, I promise. Now sit down.” She put her hands on his shoulders and guided him to the bench. She gloried in his obedience. Revenge or no, having a powerful man submit to her every order set something inside her free. He eased downward, panting. The soap bar shifted and pressed as he sat. His penis stretched another inch, vibrating with life and desire. She left him there, groaning in an agony of pleasure. She didn‟t want to leave. Touching him was as much a stimulus as having him stroke her body. However he needed a rest, time to realize how very much his pleasure depended on her. Anticipation would make the next orgasm better for both of them. She wanted him well and truly hooked, addicted to her and her alone, believing that only she could bring him release. She also needed to know she could control the situation, control herself. Every time she allowed herself to surrender to the feelings he inspired, she risked another piece of her heart and more doubts sprang up about her vengeful course. She had to end this confusion, and the best way to do that was to get a firm grip on their sexual activities. She had to be in charge, no matter what he might believe. “Don‟t leave,” he pleaded. “I‟m not leaving.” She moved around the shower stall angling the shower heads so that all but the ceiling fixture aimed at his balls. More groans emerged as the pulsing water pummeled his sac. By the time she stood between his spread knees, he was squirming and rocking. “Is something wrong, baby?” she crooned. She allowed one hand to lightly stroke his penis. Her other hand burrowed into her slit where she finger fucked herself. His jaw dropped, longing clear and desperate in his eyes. “I. . . I. . . God. . . I want to be inside you.” 75

“Why?” She took her hand out of her pussy and presented a finger to his lips. He reached out with his tongue to lick the cum from her digit, but she jerked it away. “Tell me why?” “This is torture,” he finally said between gasps. “I feel so good, but not good enough. I want more. I need more. Please. Let me fuck you.” Delighted by both his words and the anguish in his tone, she put her cum slicked finger on his mouth, smearing the pungent liquid over his lips. He licked up every drop then sucked her digit into his hot, velvety inner cavity, lapping the musky juice with little stabbing strokes of his tongue. Her breasts tingled from his attention to her fingers, and her empty vagina cramped. She wanted him to fuck her, but he had to pay for it. The price was obedience. A high price for a man like him, but small compared to the price he‟d pay when she took the revenge she planned. She popped her finger from his mouth and moved two steps away. Standing on tip toe she tweaked a foil packet off the shelf that held the towels. “Close your legs.” He obeyed, longing clear on his face. “Good boy.” She moved forward, covered his erection with the condom then straddled his thighs. She leaned toward him. “Suck my nipples.” Once more he obeyed without question. His ready compliance with her orders gave her confidence. This time she wouldn‟t lose her mind, wouldn‟t give him the tiniest piece of herself. Each luscious tug on her breast produced an answering tug in her belly. Every lick and nip created a twinge in her crease and clit. “Faster. Squeeze my breasts together and suck both bubbies at once.” Still rocking and squirming with unalloyed lust, he groaned, but 76

The Widow‟s Revenge he obeyed, sucking and flicking his tongue across her nipples, increasing her need exponentially. She wanted more. She eased her hips downward until his cock stood poised at the brink of her channel. “Do you want your penis inside my vagina?” He started to take his mouth from her breasts. She put a hand on the back of his head and forced him forward. “No, don‟t let go. Just nod yes or shake your head no.” He nodded, the motion adding an extra tug to her sensitized nipples. She rewarded his obedience by easing her pussy over his long stiff rod. When he was seated to the hilt she sat still enjoying the hard pulse of his penis vibrating against her g-spot. “Put your hands on my ass. I want you to tease my pucker.” He did as he was told but continued to torture her breasts with his lips and tongue. The rapid stroke of his water roughened finger tips across her asshole made her squirm and clench his cock with her vaginal muscles. She sank further. A dart of fear pierced her confidence as a small amount of her control began to shred. Her labia spread, and the position forced her clit to rub against him. She wriggled once more, trying to resist the urge to lift her hips. She failed and tumbled into the sucking need for pleasure at his hands. Her hips rose then fell. His cock pulsed in then out, as she pumped her pelvis over him. Each upstroke intensified the pleasure of each down stroke, but nothing satisfied. She pumped with greater speed. His fingers strummed her ass faster. He sucked harder on her nipples, as he took over dominating her where she had meant to dominate him. She matched her strokes to his rhythm. He spread her ass cheeks. The pulsing shower spray joined the beat of his fingers. How had she lost control? She didn‟t know. Beyond caring, 77

trapped in her own snare, she wormed one hand between them, found her clit with her fingers and pinched. Her world exploded. Screams of pleasure echoed off the tiled walls and rained down on the two of them. Alec grasped her hips and added his thrusts to her violent fucking. The orgasm went on and on, her slit sucking hard enough to pull the semen from his cock through the latex barrier. Unable to stand more, she sagged forward against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. Slit and cock continued to pulse and throb. His breath sounded harsh in her ear. At long last the twinges of orgasm faded into whispering shocks that left her limp and a little bit sore. Tears slipped from her eyes and mixed with the showering water. She‟d lost control and failed, such a wonderful, ecstatic failure. Neither sad nor happy, she sat on his lap mired in confusion and guilt, two weaknesses she could ill-afford for Alec to discover. She forced herself to smile against his shoulder and lick at the water droplets there. “That. Was. Good.” It was the truth. She didn‟t lie, but it wasn‟t the whole truth. “That, lover, was great.” “Thank you.” "No, thank you. However I need your help.” She turned her head and raised an eyebrow at him. Thank God he wouldn‟t be able to tell her tears from the shower. “Help?” “Yeah. I don‟t think I can get the soap out of my ass by myself.” She smiled. “I‟ll be happy to assist, but we‟ll have to stand up first.” “Oh.” His smile drooped. “I don‟t think I can stand right now.” Eventually she managed to lift herself off his body, and he was able to stand. 78

The Widow‟s Revenge “Turn and brace your arms against the wall.” He complied. She prodded his asshole gently, wormed two fingers inside, hooked the soap on a fingernail and pulled the bar out. Alec sighed, and turned to her, taking the soap from her hand and placing it on a shelf in the shower‟s soap dish. “I‟m starving,” he told her. “I‟m also exhausted. I‟ll be asleep with my face in my food if I try to have a meal now.” “I know exactly how you feel. Let‟s finish washing up then take a nap.” Together they soaped and rinsed each other, body and hair, then shut off the shower and toweled each other dry. Maggie‟s body was replete, but her mind and heart churned. Would she be able to sleep with this maelstrom of conflicting emotions threatening to swamp her sanity? One consoling thought ran through her mind. She may be confused, but at least she was alive and feeling something, even if she wasn‟t certain what. She would find some way to get to sleep. Until she was able to sort out the tangle of her feelings she would continue as planned, and those plans would test her stamina, will, and heart as well as Alec‟s.

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Chapter Six Lake Tahoe, December 7th Maggie dreamed she lay naked on a bed of feathers under a huge maple tree. Liquid warmth trickled over her body, pooled on her belly and between her breasts then seeped into her tingling slit and drowsy senses. Distantly, she realized the covers were gone and she lay spread eagled on the bed. Her lashes fluttered when feathery strokes tickled the hollow of her throat and across her chest. Heat sighed over one breast and longing twinged in both nipples. Abrupt sucking pressure jerked her fully awake. Everything he‟d done felt good, right, but one thing was wrong. She was supposed to wake first. She was supposed to be in complete control of the situation and of Alec. Instead her body, her senses, her will power were all in Alec‟s talented hands, pleading thralls to the whim of his mouth, fingers and cock. She couldn‟t let him take charge again. Could she? She was already far gone into sensual slavery. What choice did she have? “God, what are you doing to me?” She tried to sit up, but a large hand on one shoulder held her down. Alec‟s head blocked her view, so she couldn‟t tell what he was doing other than torture her with pleasure. The sucking stopped. Her breast released with a pop. A gentle breath blew around her heated nipple, shivering her entire body, setting her pussy aquiver. “Hmmm.” Alec nuzzled her earlobe while his fingers dabbled in her navel then painted her neglected nipple with that liquid warmth. “As the last one into the shower, I was supposed to cook, 80

The Widow‟s Revenge so I‟m having lunch. Any impact on you is a side-effect.” His words were indifferent, almost clinical, but his tone held the same warmth as his fingers. “Sure doesn‟t feel like my side‟s being affected,” she murmured as his voice and touch soothed her. She was supposed to move, change places somehow, but she felt too good to move and had trouble remembering why she should bother. He turned his head to look at her while he bent toward her painted breast. He grinned. “Don‟t worry, I‟m certain all of you will be affected before we‟re done.” His tongue licked circles from the base of her bubby to her nipple. Slight tremors shook her globes, and her breath came in shallow gasps. She‟d never felt so adored or so needy. “Lord, I hope so.” His teeth scraped across her swollen mounds. Her breath hissed then sighed as he swallowed her nipple into his mouth. The spasms in her channel increased. She was empty, so empty, and loneliness chilled her despite the heat washing through her body. She wanted his penis inside her. Wanted him to fill her to the brim then fill her over and over and over until she was so full she could never be empty again. Alec stopped dining on her breasts, lapping his way to her navel. She mewled her discontent. “Patience, we‟re just finishing the first course.” His tongue plunged within her belly‟s indentation, and his lips closed over it sucking and pushing at the same time. The quivers in her womb and vagina flowed outward until every extremity vibrated. She closed her eyes and tensed her muscles attempting to slow the rush to orgasm. He hadn‟t even touched her sex yet, and she refused to come without his long, thick, luscious penis stuffed as far up her slit as she could get it. She 81

wanted his pole inside her so much that she abandoned any pretense at control and begged. “Fuck me, please.” He lifted his head to lock gazes with her once more. “Not yet. I have a full meal to eat before I get to desert.” “But. . . ." He shook his head. “Sorry Lover, but you‟ll just have to learn patience. When I‟ve had my fill, then maybe you can cum, and afterward, we‟ll discuss how I‟ll allow you to thank me. She pouted. Momentary discontent reminded her that she was supposed to be in charge. Acting the supplicant wouldn‟t get her anything but some of the best sex she‟d ever had. And what was wrong with that? “What if I‟m hungry, too?” His grin broadened. “Oh, I thought of that, and will be happy to feed you right now, if you like.” Nothing was wrong with taking as much pleasure as possible from this man. Enjoying his sexual domination might make him think they were emotionally close, and that would make him vulnerable. His loss would be that much greater if it included his business, his reputation and a trusted lover. The question was could she do it? Could she be certain that in betraying Alec, she didn‟t also betray herself? She smiled back at him. “I like.” “Let‟s start with this.” He shifted to sit next to her and reached across her to the bedside table. She followed his hand with her gaze. Her eyes went wide. She forgot to worry about betraying, destroying and dominating, when she saw the mounds of fresh food on the tray there. “Are we going to eat all of that?” He cocked a brow at her. “Perhaps. Let‟s see how much you can take. Now, open your mouth.” She obeyed. With one hand, he took a blood orange segment and placed it 82

The Widow‟s Revenge halfway into her mouth. His other hand dipped into a dish then drifted down her body to hover above her mons where she felt the now familiar liquid warmth drip onto her tender skin. “Close your lips, but don‟t bite.” She thought she knew what he had in mind, and eager to confirm her suspicions, she complied. The bright red orange slice protruded from her lips like a large engorged clit. Alec‟s other hand settled on her mons, massaging the warmth into her skin and slicking it over her labia with a quick dip between the swollen achy flesh folds. He bent his lips to her face, engulfed the exposed end of the segment with his mouth and sucked. Juice burst from his oral squeezing and oozed over her lips and chin. His hand squeezed her nether lips and an answering burst of liquid flowed from her crease. The orange juice dribbled down her chin, and pulp filled her mouth adding texture and flavor to the thrust of Alec‟s tongue. She gobbled at the sticky liquid and chewed on the bright flesh. Breath fading, she swallowed. Alec stopped stroking her pussy. She opened her mouth to breathe and protest, but his fingers invaded her oral cavity. “Suck.” The order was harsh and guttural, as if he struggled for control. She clamped her lips around his fingers. The sweet scent of maple syrup and her own jism combined with his male musk overwhelmed her senses. Every thought fled, save the need to fill herself with him. Maddened with pleasure, she rose up and pushed him down to the bed. He‟d just grabbed another blood orange segment, when she shoved him. His arms flailed, tipping the tray. Food flew in all directions. Syrup splattered across Maggie‟s shoulders and backside. A mound of orange slices and raspberries decorated Alec‟s chest along with dollops of heavy cream and a sprinkling of 83

powdered sugar. Intent on getting what she wanted Maggie didn‟t care. Feet and knees squishing in softened butter, she shifted to bring her pussy over his cock. “My turn now!” “No.” He twisted and rolled, somehow ending with his face beneath her cleft. He secured her hips with one arm. His free hand grabbed a fistful of fruit that he proceeded to shove into her quivering channel. He shoved with enough force that she fell forward, bracing herself on her arms just in time to avoid bludgeoning his rod with her face. She felt his hand scrabble between them, and more food filled her slit. It wasn‟t as solid and meaty as his shaft, but she was being filled. Because his arm held her hips in a vice grip, she decided to take what pleasure she could. Maintaining her balance on one arm, she swiped a palmful of syrup from her shoulder and slathered it over his cock then proceeded to plunder the flesh stick for every drop of maple and man. Her lips closed around his phallus, and the knob prodded her throat. She sucked, licking and pushing her tongue against the knot at the base of his glans. He groaned. Seizing her hips with both hands he yanked her pussy to his mouth and devoured her clit. With each tender bite on her flesh her vagina contracted and fruity pulp plopped out. He gobbled the quimy fruit biting and sucking at her labia. The nips and nibbles trembled through her, and her throat contracted around his flesh stick. His tongue punched inside her channel licking and spearing, hungry for every bit of fruit and juice. Fingers pinched her clit. Her entire body tightened then burst into a billion pieces. His swelling cock blocked her screams. Beyond thought, her throat and vagina spasmed around him. 84

The Widow‟s Revenge Beneath her his entire body jerked, and his hips thrust his shaft deeper into her throat, fucking her face until spurts of cum mixed with syrupy saliva filled her mouth to overflowing. She sucked and swallowed as fast as she could, but the liquid oozed from her lips, down her chin and onto his balls. Long after the ecstasy passed, she lay lax atop his body, his flaccid penis still in her mouth, and lapped at the sticky remnants of the best food sex possible. Occasionally his tongue would swipe at her labia. Whenever he ran teeth, tongue or lips across her clit aftershocks would jerk her body from its torpor. She let his cock slide from her lips and rolled off Alec‟s body. That he didn‟t try to stop or control her in anyway was testament to the effect of their brunch on him. She sighed, looking at the mashed fruit and small puddles of cream and syrup that stained the sheets. “We‟ve made a mess.” The worry that she was making an equal mess of her revenge oozed into her mind, but right at that moment she could not deal with the sticky mass of emotions. He propped himself on his elbows and grinned. “Yeah, but it was worth every cummy morsel.” Unable to regret the pleasure she felt and that she saw in his face, she smiled back at him. “Yes it was. Nonetheless, I‟ll have to replace the sheets, maybe even the mattress.” “I‟ll be happy to take care of it. Just tell me where to send the check.” “That‟s not necessary.” He frowned. “Are you going to spoil one of the most pleasant moments of my life with an argument?” “I‟m not arguing. I‟m insisting. You‟re my guest. I‟m the one who issued the invitation, and as hostess, paying the bills is my prerogative.” 85

***** Evidently it was a point of pride with her. Alec couldn‟t argue. He‟d feel the same, if he‟d issued the invitation. “Then at least let me take you out to dinner.” She looked at him, considering. “Why?” “We‟ve been inside for close to forty eight hours and need a break, if for nothing more than to build up energy for the next round.” “I accept your thoughtful invitation. Besides, I‟ll have time to get the cleaning service in here while we‟re gone.” “Excellent. Would you care to join me in the shower?” She shook her head. Although he regretted her decision, he imagined he understood. She‟d surrendered herself to him several times, no doubt more than she‟d planned. He‟d bet she wanted a moment or two away, time to regroup and reassess her strategy. He would if he was in her position. “Much as I would enjoy that, I don‟t think we‟d do much washing,” she said. “I‟ll use the shower in the other bedroom suite and meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes.” He raised his brows. “Fifteen minutes? Really? I‟ve never met a woman who could dress for dinner in less than a half hour. Most take a good hour or more.” “I hope you've noticed that I‟m not most women.” “Oh believe me, I noticed. Still a small wager on the accuracy of your estimate could have interesting results.” He added a leer, just to be certain she understood what kinds of results he had in mind. “Well since you put it that way. What terms do you propose?” “The winner sets the location and conditions of our next sexual activity and remains in charge until midnight tonight.” 86

The Widow‟s Revenge “Agreed.” Alec studied her. She seemed very confident. He considered cheating, just a little bit, to make sure he won, but decided a true victory would be more satisfying. “No holds barred?” “Are you suggesting you‟ll play dirty?” “I‟m telling you up front that I play to win.” “Fair enough. Just remember, so do I.” “I‟ll wait to hear the water start to run in your shower before I start the clock on your fifteen minutes and use that time to make our reservations.” “Okay. See you in fifteen minutes.” ***** Maggie smoothed the last dabs of lotion into her skin. If she won, the wager might be the best opportunity she‟d have needed to regain control and get what she needed from Alec. With her shorter hair, showering took a scant five minutes max, leaving plenty of time for lotion and make up, especially when her only clothing under her jacket would be a wrap dress and spike heeled calf high boots. She smiled at the thought of Alec‟s expression when he realized she wore no underwear. He might choke on his dinner when she told him. Would he choke on his pride when the food sex video was shown to his board of directors, or did she need more? The sex was pretty raw, but not really depraved, and that‟s what she needed in order to ruin Alec Carter in the eyes of the business world at large and more important the people who had the authority to take away his power at Carter Enterprises. Too bad that when his life was in ashes he‟d hate her. He was a talented lover and surprisingly considerate for a heartless powermonger. She‟d miss the way he touched her, the way he made her wait for it, savor the anticipation and lose herself in him. Yes, 87

there were other men, but after Alec she wasn‟t certain she‟d want any other man. She suspected no one would ever measure up to memories they created. She finished with her make-up and slipped into her dress and boots. Then she snapped her watch onto her wrist, checked the time and rushed for the stairs as fast as her five inch heels would allow. ***** Sixteen minutes after the water in her shower had started Maggie appeared at the top of the stairs. Alec was struck dumb. Blood roared in his ears. She was so beautiful. Her body and face were gorgeous, yes. However, in the past two days he discovered a delightful and thrilling excitement that welled deep inside her. Even more, she had a dedication to the moment that bewitched him. He couldn‟t imagine a more perfect woman, and he wanted her with an intensity almost as surprising as it was constant. When would he get his fill? When would she, like every other woman, become a chore instead of an obsession? Maybe it was the mystery surrounding her. No commitment, no ties for either of them. Perhaps he didn‟t really want to know her name or how to find her. If he succeeded the mystery surrounding her would be gone and along with it her allure. Although he doubted he would ever think of anyone or anything else when he smelled ginger and oranges. Her signature scent drifted to him as she stepped onto the stairs. Like every other time he‟d seen her dressed she wore black. Her cap of auburn curls bounced while she skimmed down the stairs. Her blue eyes gleamed with mischief and, he hoped, anticipation. Her crimson lips lifted in a classic Mona Lisa smile. Beneath ebon silk her breasts swayed, telling him that she went braless. Her 88

The Widow‟s Revenge dress had some sort of flared skirt that ended at mid-thigh. A slight breeze or a quick brush of his hand would lift the hem and tell him if she also went without panties. God, he prayed she did. Without the fuss of underwear the activities he planned for the evening would be much easier, and much harder to wait for, because he liked touching her moist, talented pussy almost as much as he liked tasting it. “You win. I concede.” She smiled. “But I blame you. I would have beaten fifteen minutes, if I hadn‟t been thinking about you.” He couldn‟t help the pride that welled with the knowledge that he could consume her thoughts to the point of distraction. She distracted him too, with a vengeance. Heaven help him when they parted at the end of the week. He‟d never get his fill of her in so short a time. He must do everything possible to extend their time together. “I hate losing. Don‟t you?” She pouted. He longed to lean forward and kiss all that lip gloss away, but he stayed put. If he made a single move on her, they‟d never leave the house. “Yes, but I think we‟ll both win, once you discover what I have in mind.” Having made the decision to prolong their liaison, tonight‟s activities were as good a place as any to start his campaign to keep her. “Why don‟t you just tell me now?” “No, I want you to wonder, maybe even be a bit anxious.” “I‟m not a masochist. Should I worry?” “You should trust me more by now.” His disappointment at her lack of trust surprised him. Why should it matter? He had a healthy case of lust for this woman, and no little determination to prove she should want him to be in control. That was all. He didn‟t need undying belief in his every ability or his worth as a man. Did he? 89

“I do trust you in some things. But you have to confess that we know too little about each other to give complete trust.” He held her faux-fur jacket ready for her to slip into. “We should be able to fill in some of the blanks over dinner. Until then, I promise not to cross the line.” “But do you draw that line at the same place I do?” She smiled. He shrugged, avoiding the uncomfortable suspicion that her boundaries might exclude him. “We‟ve been in synch so far, and you‟ve informed me that you‟re not a masochist. Well, I‟m not either.” “Glad to hear it.” She removed gloves from a pocket hidden in the jacket. “Just remember the border between pain and pleasure is as thin as the line between love and hate. Shall we?” He pulled on his long overcoat and scarf and opened the door. “Yes, please, my appetite is growing by the minute.” She lifted her head and gave him a sidewise glance that told him she wasn‟t speaking of the meal they were about to share. “Come on,” he growled. Taking her hand, he led her from the house to his car. “Suddenly I‟m hungry for a lot more than food.” ***** Maggie followed Alec and the Maitre D‟ through the dimly lit restaurant filled with muted conversation and heavenly smells to a secluded, candlelit table. Despite Alec‟s stated desire for „more than food‟ he was a perfect gentleman throughout the ride to the restaurant. Once inside, he treated everyone alike from the coat check clerk to the bus boys. He showed them all the same air of thoughtful command he‟d demonstrated as her lover, ensuring her pleasure while compelling her body to suit his whim. The trait endeared him to the restaurant staff for they seemed to enjoy 90

The Widow‟s Revenge fulfilling his every request. The problem was, she found it endearing too. That could be fatal to her plans, and her heart. His demeanor was so opposite what she imagined of the unfeeling, greedy Alec Carter—who would send a scientist to negotiate with terrorists, the CEO who canceled life insurance policies without a qualm—that she'd decided to lead Alec to talk about his company over dinner rather than keep the conversation light, flirtatious and sexually charged. After consulting her, he ordered drinks and their meal. Talking about Carter Enterprises was a risk. She‟d have to be careful not to reveal her familiarity with the company. Even though she knew he‟d been CEO for more than a decade, she decided to open with a basic question. “How long have you been CEO of Carter Enterprises?” “About two years now.” She almost blurted that he was lying. She schooled her features to keep her surprise from showing. Instead she said, “I‟m confused. I‟ve been hearing about Carter Enterprises‟ CEO, Alec Carter, for at least ten years.” Had she made a horrible mistake? Her mind rejected the possibility, and she stiffened the resolve that wavered ever since his tenderness back the house. Alec Carter, CEO of Carter Enterprises, had ordered David to that god-forsaken country where he died. Her mind shouted at her to listen to reason, not to let emotions override good sense. But her heart, her traitorous heart, whispered doubts, undermining every effort to cling to her original beliefs and plan. Hadn‟t she just thought how unlike a power-monger Alec was? How thoughtful? How egalitarian? Tension pounded in her head and confusion churned in her stomach. “You must not follow the business news very closely or you‟d know that I took over the CEO‟s job when my father, Alec Carter 91

Sr., died.” She wished that he was wrong about her not following the news, but he was distressingly right. She‟d stopped paying more than cursory attention to the news after David died. Carter Enterprises was a huge company, and it wasn‟t surprising that she hadn‟t known that father and son shared the same name. After David‟s death, she hadn‟t wanted to know anything about the company or the man she blamed. Now, after it was much too late to change her plan, it seemed she‟d targeted the wrong man. The waiter brought their drinks. She forced steadiness into her hands and sipped the peppery Shiraz she‟d requested then set down her glass. If Alec was innocent, justice demanded she abandon her plans and disappear from his life forever. She needed confirmation from an independent source one way or the other, but what source, and how to get the confirmation while she was still in Tahoe with Alec? She needed time, and she wouldn‟t get any time tonight. The earliest she could take any action would be tomorrow morning while Alec slept. Tonight she would have to continue as planned, as if nothing significant had occurred. Another sick twist of confusion soured her belly. She stared at the salad being placed before her. She was relieved, actually relieved, that she still had tonight because come the dawn she feared everything would change. Forcing her attention away from looming disaster, she found even more relief in the polite, getting to know you, small talk of a dinner date. Keep it simple for now. Let the sleeping dragons lie until tomorrow. She picked up her fork and continued the conversation. “That must have been a difficult time for you.” “You can‟t imagine,” he said. “What was most challenging for you then?” 92

The Widow‟s Revenge He took her hand, toying with her fingers while his gaze turned inward. “I‟m almost embarrassed to say.” She lifted her other hand to his cheek. “Don‟t be. Not with me. Grief can be unbearable. I know that as well as anyone.” Shifting his head, he closed his eyes and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I thought you might be mourning someone. I‟m deeply sorry for your loss, but I can‟t be sorry if somehow that loss led you to me.” She closed her eyes a moment, suppressing both the ache in her heart and the flutter in her belly. “I‟m dealing with my grief in the best way I know how, Alec. Let me help you with yours.” Another surprise rocked her. She did want to help him. Why? When the thing she desired most was for Alec to feel grief and loss, why would she want to help him through his personal sorrow? Would tonight‟s terrifying discoveries never end? He stared at her a moment, dropped his head and shrugged his shoulders. “That‟s just it. I can‟t share my grief with you.” “Why?” He looked at her once more. “Because I don‟t have any.” Her shoulders jerked backward a half an inch, and her fingers dropped from his. “You lost your father. Of course you‟re grieving, although you may be in denial.” His mouth kicked up in a wry smile and sipped whiskey from his glass. “I‟m afraid not. There was no love lost between my father and me. You were right in one thing. I have been with Carter Enterprises for ten years, but every day was torture because I never knew what whim would strike my boss, who just happened to be my father.” “Was he mentally unstable?” I was right. The man responsible for David‟s death had been completely insensitive to any need but his own. Look what Alec Carter Sr. had done to his own son. David died to satisfy one man‟s personal greed. Her grief was born of a 93

single man‟s lust for power. But her Alec wasn‟t that man, and while she hated his father with all her being, she couldn‟t hate Alec. He set the glass on the table and stared into the whiskey. He tipped the tumbler from side to side between his palms. He steadied the glass then rested his hands on the edge of the table. “I suppose if we‟re building trust I can tell you. He ran a billion dollar international company and made a profit every year of the twenty and more that he sat in the CEO‟s chair. He wasn‟t unstable. He was, however, an egomaniac. He believed that because he owned Carter Enterprises he could do anything he pleased with it. My father never did anything that he could be prosecuted for. He saw breaking the law as being counter to his best interests. Many of his business practices skirted the law and were, to put it mildly, unethical. I rarely spoke with him at work and would not have joined the company at all if I hadn‟t believed I could mitigate his ego-centric policies.” “What a terrible situation—to be so at odds with family.” Magge sipped wine from her goblet, but the wine turned bitter in her mouth. Her fingers tightened in his. She closed her lips on rising gorge. Did she need more confirmation? She‟d been wrong. Horribly wrong. The only thing she could think of to correct the mistake was to run, but first she had to get through tonight. She‟d make her escape after Alec fell asleep. “You‟re telling me. I‟ve spent the past two years undoing damage done by his autocratic, narcissistic policies. Just when I think I‟ve fixed them all another one springs up that‟s worse than all the rest.” “I‟m so sorry.” Maggie managed to choke the sympathy she felt past the guilt clogging her throat. She had to get herself under control. She couldn‟t allow Alec to suspect the conflict turning her well ordered plans to disaster. Sex would help. Neither one of 94

The Widow‟s Revenge them seemed to be able to deal with anything else when their bodies were involved. The rest could wait until she left. “Perhaps we should talk about something else.” Candlelight flickered across his features. He smiled at her. “I‟m all for that. I‟ve told you my deepest darkest secret. Now you tell me yours.” She sat back withdrawing her hand from his clasp. “I thought you understood that my background is off limits as a topic.” He retrieved her hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. “I‟m not asking for names, places and dates. I just want to know more about you the person. I‟ve thought about you almost constantly over the past month, even more during our time in Tahoe. You‟ve shared so much of your body with me. Can‟t you share a little of yourself. Tell me about your grief. Whoever it is you‟re mourning, maybe if you share some of that, the grief won‟t hurt quite so much.” He wanted her to tell him about David. Other than one therapist, who hadn‟t understood her at all, she‟d spoken to no one about David since his death. She couldn‟t. Every time she opened her mouth to speak his name, nothing but tears, fury and souldestroying pain emerged. However with Alec, she wouldn‟t have to say David‟s name. Maybe, just maybe, she could do this. Difficult as she would find it, talking about David would be easier by far than leaving Alec tonight. He had trusted her with sensitive details about his life. How could giving him a few details from her life hurt? “I don‟t. . . don‟t know if I‟ll be able to tell you much, but I‟ll try.” “Thank you.” “You were right. I am mourning my husband. I loved him very much. We had this amazing rapport. I knew his thoughts, like he knew mine. He had a great sense of humor. I sometimes get too 95

serious and D. . . . ” she gulped back his name along with the welling tears. “He would always find something funny in any situation and make me laugh, sometimes until I cried. He was handsome. So handsome. Blonde, tall, athletic, a fantastic lover and very, very smart.” ***** Alec kept a smile fixed on his face, but beneath the smile rage warred with empathy. The clink of glass and mutter of diners around them grew sharper. Scents inundated him, bitter coffee, smoked whiskey, the salty odor of fish and bouillabaisse. Anger bubbled under it all. He was jealous of a dead man. She still loved her husband, that was patent. How could she give her body away with such abandon and still love the man? Was it because she loved him? Did she purposely seek out strangers to have sex with because her husband was no longer here to service her? Alec didn‟t like that thought any better than the image of her taking some other man‟s cock inside her warm plush pussy or letting another man do the things Alec had done to her with his mouth, his hands, and his penis. She was his, or she had been until he‟d gotten stupid and asked about her grief. One hand gripped his table knife like a weapon, the handle pressing deep into his palm. The soft cloth napkin beneath the fingers of his other hand roughened to the texture of sandpaper. As she continued heaping praise upon praise on her deceased mate, Alec realized that she wasn‟t his. Not yet. She would never be his until she could forget the man she‟d married and give Alec the one thing he knew she kept for a dead man. She could only belong to Alec when she gave him her name, trusted him with her identity the way she‟d entrusted it to her husband‟s care. The week at Tahoe was half gone. Two and a half short days weren‟t enough 96

The Widow‟s Revenge time to get her to trust him in the same way she had her husband, but it should have been long enough to break down a barrier or two. If Alec could gain enough information to find her again, he could form a long-range plan to eradicate the other man from her thoughts. First he had to know her name and, if possible, where she lived. The rest of the meal passed in a blur. They moved from her grief for her husband to more neutral topics. The waiter returned with Alec‟s credit card, and they could leave. “C‟mon. Let‟s get out of here.” He stood, held her chair and walked her to the coat check room. “You still haven‟t told me what we‟re doing the rest of this evening.” No he hadn‟t. That had been a mistake. Obsessed with making plans to extend their relationship, he‟d allowed her to spend too much time thinking about her lost love and not enough on him and what he would do to her. It was past time to push memories of the dead aside. She would know very soon that he, a living breathing flesh and blood man, was all she would ever need. “No I didn‟t. But I will now. Come over here.” Carrying both their coats, he stepped aside to a corner where a leather chair sat beside a ficus tree. He took a crumpled plastic bag from his coat pocket, handed her the bag and her faux-fur. Then he leaned close and whispered in her ear. “You will take this bag and your jacket with you into the ladies room. Go into a stall and strip.” Her eyes went wide. “O. . . kay, but. . . . ” He laid a finger on her lips. “Listen. Put your clothing into the plastic bag. Then put on your coat and zip it shut from bottom to top.” Her jaw dropped. “You want me to walk out of here wearing nothing but this coat?” “It‟s as warm as fur, and the restaurant‟s valet parking is 97

efficient. You won‟t get too cold.” “I‟m not worried about getting cold,” she hissed as a group of diners walked passed. “Perhaps you‟ve forgotten how short this jacket is. It will barely cover my ass. If a stiff breeze comes along or I even walk fast, I‟ll be flashing that ass to anyone within ten feet.” The thought crossed his mind that it was a bit late to be turning prudish. After the exhibition she‟d given at the masquerade and the elevator incident then making love with him in front of a plate glass window in broad daylight, he had every reason to expect that she‟d have no problem flashing a little butt at some valets. Yes, she‟d been in disguise at the masquerade and the elevator had been locked between floors. The window didn‟t face the street and had quickly become so fogged over that even if someone had passed by nothing that would identify her could be seen. Still a shy or prudish person would never participate in any such incidents. There must be some reason why all of a sudden his Camille turned cautious. That was just another of her mysteries he was determined to lay bare. “I know exactly how short that jacket is, which is why I chose it from the three coats you had in the front closet. You lost the bet, so perhaps you should plan on walking slowly and pray that the breeze is gentle.” He gave a toothy grin. But he didn‟t upbraid her for playing chicken when her previous behavior had been brazen to put it mildly. “None of that will help when I climb into your SUV. The valets and anyone else nearby will get a look at a lot more than my ass when I raise my leg to step up into the car.” “Maybe.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Tell you what. I‟ll lift you into the car. That way I‟ll be standing between you and any prying eyes. Somebody might catch a quick glance at your naked bottom, but it will only be for a moment or two. Any exposure will be minimal.” 98

The Widow‟s Revenge She studied his face, and he knew she would see rock hard determination there. “I don‟t have any choice do I.” “Not if you honor your debts.” “Oh, I always pay my debts, but for this, you‟re going to owe me.” “We‟ll see. You don‟t know everything yet.” “There‟s more?” “A great deal more. I‟m in charge until midnight, and it‟s only 8:00 p.m.” She rolled her eyes and groaned, spun on her five inch heeled boots and headed for the ladies room. “My mother warned me never to bet.” He called after her. “Your mother was a wise woman.” Then Alec made a beeline for the men‟s room, pulling a second plastic bag from his coat pocket as he went.

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Chapter Seven Lake Tahoe, December 7th Maggie twined the handle of the bag holding her dress around one wrist. She pulled down the hem of her jacket before stalking from the ladies room. She‟d been an utter fool to make that bet and worse than a fool when it came to everything that mattered. Now she was about to pay for her foolishness at the hands of a man she‟d set up for ruin. She‟d already had more than one sample of his iron-willed control. That window pane sex was like nothing she‟d ever experienced. It wasn‟t the risk of exposure. Although that was titillating, she‟d done worse before. No, Alec‟s complete and relentless control of her body had been the difference. He‟d brought her slowly to the edge and left her hanging there in delicious agony until she surrendered her will to his and begged. Even when he‟d granted her dearest desire, her orgasm had come at his pace not hers. She‟d hated being submissive and loved every sensory drenched minute of his dominance. Alec stood waiting where she‟d left him. He‟d put on his long overcoat with his equally long thin scarf wrapped around his neck, but something about him wasn‟t quite right. She studied him. Then the difference dawned. A small strip of skin showed between the hem of his overcoat and the top of his socks. He wasn‟t wearing any slacks. Her mouth rounded in an O. She nearly released her grip on her jacket to cover her mouth, but recalled that lifting her arm would raise the hem and expose her bare butt. He grinned. “I didn‟t think it was fair to ask you to go jacket 100

The Widow‟s Revenge only, if I didn‟t do the same. “Your coat‟s much longer than mine, so you still have the advantage.” She shook her head, smiling back at him. Her heart did a slow painful turn. He was more considerate than any man in her experience, even David who had been endearingly thoughtful. She‟d lost David, and now she‟d lose Alec before she ever had him. Much as she hated Alec Sr. and would like to blame him for everything, this fiasco was of her own making. She‟d been so very wrong, and the only way to make things right was to disappear from his life forever. He moved in beside her, placed his hand possessively at her back and urged her forward. “Well I did win the bet.” Outside, pine scented the crisp air and snow crunched under foot. Beyond the canopied walkway stars glittered like snowflakes against a black velvet sky. Even though the restaurant entrance was somewhat sheltered, cool air rushed over her ass, causing her to shimmy at the cold breathy caress. She let the chill wash over her and tried to release the regret that colored her mood. She must give Alec no clue that she had feelings other than those of an eager sex-partner. One of the valets took Alec‟s ticket then hurried off to retrieve the car. From their booth the remaining two valets eyed Maggie‟s long bare legs and the absence of a visible skirt showing between the end of her jacket and the top of her black leather, calf length boots. The men didn‟t even try to be subtle. More cold air wafted upward under her faux-fur, and she shivered closer to Alec. “Those guys need to know they don‟t stand a chance with you,” he growled. Then he swung her into him so they stood sideways to the ogling valets. He angled her head and bent to kiss her. The heat of his lips on her chilled mouth made her sigh, and she snuggled against him. Their tongues played tag, and her breasts 101

began to ache. Her heart ached too. She needed this intimacy, needed Alec, and after tonight she could have neither. For memories‟ sake she would take everything he had to give tonight and leave her remorse for tomorrow. Fervor guided her kiss. She made small sideways movements with her torso, trying to get enough stimulation to ease the ache but that only made it worse. Then she felt his hand squeezing her buttocks. Conscious of the valets and what they might report to the media, she squirmed to get away from Alec, but his grip tightened. “Relax, lover,” Alec whispered against her lips. “They aren‟t going to see anything that I don‟t want them to see.” “I doubt that‟s the same as what I don‟t want them to see. Now let me go.” She nipped at his lip. He didn‟t understand the risks, and she couldn‟t afford to explain. “No.” He trailed kisses along her jaw to her ear. “Our car‟s almost here. Think about this while we wait.” He ground his pelvis against her. Through his coat and hers, she felt his erection push at her belly. He had to be really hard to make any impression through multiple layers of thick cloth. It was difficult to think about anything else with his rock hard cock prodding her and anticipatory contractions drowning her pussy with lubrication. Lord, she was so ready for him. She lost all sense of time and place. Eager to have that rod inside her she bent the knee of one leg and eased her booted foot upward, intent on hooking her leg over his hip. She aimed a hand for the buttons closing his coat over his penis. Abruptly he released her, stepping between her and the valet approaching with the car keys. “Thank you, young man.” Her body off kilter and emotions frayed, Maggie tottered behind Alec, breathing hard and trying to regain the balance his kiss had 102

The Widow‟s Revenge shattered. She watched fascinated as he pressed three one hundred dollar bills into the young man‟s hand. Considering her weakness for Alec‟s touch, she should be worried. Considering what she could reveal in a vulnerable moment, she should be a whole lot more than worried. She should be in a state of high panic. But that drugging kiss sapped her will and left her desperate for the kind of satisfaction only Alec could give. She would do anything to have him except betray him more. Alec‟s dominating ways fed her soul. Had she no pride? Not if pride denied her the remaining hours with his luscious hard-on. “For you and your colleagues,” Alec said to the valets. “I have a lot of friends in Tahoe, who value discretion as much as I do. I‟ll be certain to recommend this place to them.” She dazed over this most recent demonstration of Alec‟s ability to command eager willing service with little more than a smile, though she supposed hundred dollar bills helped. “T. .h. . . a. . . n. . . k. . . . thank you sir. You can count on us.” Alec opened the SUV‟s passenger side door, took Maggie‟s plastic bag and tossed it into the back seat along with his. Beside him she goggled at his smooth manipulation of the valets and his bribe for their silence, as well as the subtle threat of his Tahoe friends. Did he really know people here? If so, the risk of exposing him to scandal and potential ruin was more immediate than she‟d thought. She uttered a tiny shriek, startled when he swung her into his arms and deposited her on the preheated leather seat then buckled her seatbelt for her. The sharp contrast in temperature between her chilled bottom and the warm leather seat cushions had her squirming once more and clenching her vaginal muscles to keep from creaming the luxurious material. By the time she got control of her unruly body, Alec had pulled away from the restaurant and entered traffic on Tahoe‟s main drag. She shook her head in 103

amazement then turned to look at him. “You are incredible.” “Thank you.” He grinned, but kept his focus on the road as they left the town and street lights appeared with less frequency. “Where are we going?” “A secluded turn-off, with a fabulous view of the city, the lake and the mountain side. “Is it far?” Regret and worry tried to resurface, but she shoved them back. “About ten minutes. Sit back and enjoy the ride.” “Hmmm. I‟ve been enjoying the ride all week.” “Glad to hear it. I‟m having a great time too.” “However, I have a small problem.” She knew she had bigger problems, but for now, she needed to savor every moment. This was the last time she and Alec would share together. The rest of her life remained for regrets. “We can‟t allow problems,” he said. “What‟s the matter, and how can I help?” “That little exhibition we gave the valets has got me stirred up. Ten minutes is such a long time, I might lose the edge I‟m riding, especially if I relax.” The stimulation of that edge, the thin line between simple desire and desperate need, was delightful in many ways. The tingle in her breasts, the achy damp of her slit and channel, the inner tug on her nipples whenever her empty vagina contracted, the buzz of want that vibrated from her clit, even the heated flush on her neck and face—she enjoyed all of it and didn‟t want to lose any of it. In fact, she wanted more, a whole lot more. “Hmmm that is a problem. I‟m a bit stirred up myself. And I definitely don‟t want that feeling to fade for either of us.” His voice roughened. He dropped one hand from the steering wheel and stroked his monster erection through his coat‟s heavy wool. Lucky hand. It was getting what she wanted. Fascinated and 104

The Widow‟s Revenge envious, she watched his steady strokes, saw the covering cloth leap and jerk. Her mouth grew dry. She licked her lips and swallowed. “What can we do about it?” “I may have something that will help in the glove box.” Reluctant as she was to take her gaze from his erotic display, curiosity got the better of her. What could a glove box hold that would help maintain the sexual edge? What she wanted was inside his coat, not the glove compartment. She unlatched the cover and a small light came on. Hidden beneath the manuals and rental agreement papers within, sat a rectangular ivory case yellowed with age. She removed the case and shut the glove box. Alec ceased petting his phallus to put his hand back on the wheel then steered the SUV to the shoulder and stopped the vehicle. He released his seat belt and reached to release hers. “Why did you stop?” If he wasn‟t going to touch her, she at least wanted to keep watching him. “I had to steer the car to a spot where we could be out of traffic for a bit,” he rasped. She chuckled. “Thanks, but I figured that out. Why did you decide to stop the car?” His lips lifted upward. He shifted his body so he could see her and settled into the corner formed by the seat back and the driver‟s door. “You just had an eyeful. Now, I want to watch. Open the case, Camille.” His voice deepened more, and he spoke with husky urgency. So she was supposed to do something with the box or its contents that would stimulate them both? She couldn‟t imagine what. Maggie wrinkled her brow at him, shrugged then opened the case to reveal a set of three strings of four carved ivory spheres. From the front of the case to the back, the balls of each string were approximately half an inch in diameter larger than the neighboring string. 105

“Ooh. Ben Wa Balls. Now I understand why you want to watch.” She lifted the loop of small ivory beads that secured the four largest linked balls and examined the intricate decoration. “Four to a string. Aren‟t Ben Wa Balls made in pairs?” She handed Alec the case, which he closed and put in his coat pocket. “Yes, but these were custom made.” She lifted the string nearer to her face and examined them. Intricate carvings of people and animals engaged in coitus covered the surface of each sphere. “These are antiques. I know for a fact no living artist produces work of this quality. Are you certain you want to use them?” “You‟re very perceptive, and yes, I‟m certain. How did you know they were antiques?” “You mean aside from the fact that harvesting ivory is illegal and therefore new ivory objects are nearly impossible to get.” He smiled. “Yes, aside from that.” “Well color is one clue, and the balls are nearly as yellow as the box. The color could be off simply because the spheres have been more protected from the air. However, color can be faked or enhanced. The strongest clue is the marks—very tiny mind you— on the carvings themselves. Machine pressed or laser cut balls would lack imperfections. A hand tool made those markings, and I bet, if properly tested, you might find minute traces of some sort of metal that could be used to estimate the date the balls were made. ” He raised his brows in surprise. “Right on every point. This set is unique, as no other work from the artist has been found. The balls were designed to the specifications of an Imperial Chinese consort in the fifth century AD. Unfortunately, the consort had an affair with the artist before the balls could be used. The artist‟s hands were removed as a warning to others and the consort lost her head. The set was buried with the lady and only recently 106

The Widow‟s Revenge unearthed during an archaeological dig that Carter Enterprises sponsored. I negotiated with the Chinese government to retain these as a memento of the dig and a gesture of our continued mutual good will.” “Fascinating.” A shiver of fear coursed through her. Alec was the emperor of his corporate world. Intentional or not, the story held a warning for women with betrayal on their minds. If he discovered her vengeance plot, would it matter to him that she had abandoned the plan? She didn‟t think so. Alec was a master at control, he wouldn‟t tolerate betrayal. The consequences to anyone who dared deceive him would be just but dire. She had already deceived him. Again the best she could do for now was to tuck the warning away with all her other doubts and regrets. He expected her to enjoy the moment, and she would. To hold back would be stupid as well as ungrateful. This was their last time. She owed it to them both to make it their best. She stroked the intricately carved balls with an index finger. The balls themselves, the fact that he had his woman‟s pleasure in mind, and the history of the spheres bore further evidence that, while Alec was a supreme autocrat, he was neither selfish nor self-centered. “So you‟re telling me these have never been used.” “Exactly.” “And you‟re willing to let me christen them, so to speak.” He placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head for a moment. “Please consider it a gesture of my trust in you.” “I‟m touched by your generosity and your trust.” Guilt squeezed her heart and regret choked her throat. She would pay for her mistakes for a long time, but now she had to pay in pleasure so that Alec would never share her regrets. “You‟re welcome, but I‟m being generous to both of us. Watching you is almost as stimulating as being balls deep inside you.” The pole tenting his coat wavered. 107

She smiled. “Here, hold these for a moment.” He accepted the linked spheres, and closed his hands around the two inch balls, warming them in his grasp. Maggie slid her butt to the edge of the seat cushion. She raised her right leg bracing her foot against the dashboard then spread her left leg wide, lifting it over the gearshift and extending it into his lap where her boot‟s sole pressed lightly against the rigid, wool-cloaked shaft. “Would you do the honors, please?”

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Chapter Eight Lake Tahoe, December 7th Alec‟s throat went dry the moment she exposed her pussy. Damp pearls of her natural lubrication gleamed in the moonlight. He swallowed and licked his lips remembering the taste of her, the sensation of gobbling tart fruit flavored cum from her engorged slit. Don’t even think about eating her out or fucking her now. Just do as she asks and keep the edge sharp. Patience is its own reward. He leaned forward. Through his coat her foot pressed against his cock and produced a mind-dizzying combination of pain and delight. Only the thought of the pleasure to come allowed Alec to restrain his randy libido enough to bend over her crease and not taste. His spread her labia with one hand revealing her swollen, clit and her vaginal opening. Holding wide her pulsing lips, he positioned the first ball at her entrance and with one finger pushed the carved ivory inside. She sighed, and her muscles clamped around his finger. Rippling strokes trapped him, and she circled her hips. “More, please.” “Ah, you‟ll have to let go of me.” He shifted his head to watch her face. The lambent desire in her eyes caused his shaft to buck and ache. “Oh, sorry.” Her muscles relaxed a fraction. “This feels so good. It‟s hard to loosen my grip.” Something was hard alright, and getting harder by the minute. Aching for release, Alec moved to ease the pressure of her 109

foot against his rod. He placed the second sphere at her entrance. A fringe of faux fur stuck out from beneath her buttocks. The strands tickled his hand. At the same moment her foot jerked. He shifted away from both stimulants causing his thumb to strike her clit as he pushed harder on the ivory orb. She gasped, and her head dropped back. Her hips shifted forward and her greedy pussy sucked the ball into her channel. Before his eyes her clit twitched and swelled to twice its earlier size. Suddenly hot, his mouth dry, he licked his lips and adjusted his coat, opening the lower buttons one-handed until his pleasuretortured staff sprang free. Then her foot fell into place where his coat had been and he nearly shot his wad right then. As her sole slipped over his skin, he fought for control. When he at last got a mental grip, both of them were panting, and neither had cum. He took a pause to admire the sight of her, head thrown back, body arched against the seat back, pearly quim leaking onto the fringe of faux-fur that caused the second ball to get away from him. That wouldn‟t happen again. Control was his for the next several hours and with what he had planned he couldn‟t afford to lose even a sliver of power. He adjusted his position. Straddling the console between the seats and with the gearshift poking at his butt, he tried once more to give some relief to the pressure on his lust driven organ. Anticipation drove him hard. He‟d been saving the Ben Wa balls for the right woman, a woman so sensitive that simply watching her orgasm would trigger his. He knew with unshakable certainty that his Camille, his mystery widow, was that woman. Thank heaven for the restraint he‟d learned over the years, or he‟d never last long enough to bring her any pleasure at all. She raised her head, a moue of frustration pursing her mouth. 110

The Widow‟s Revenge “It‟s only a pussy, and while it‟s pleased that you like staring at it, it needs your touch to make it really happy” He shook off his fascination with her glistening femininity and positioned the third ball, easing it inside her with delicate purpose. He made certain that the rough carved edges scrapped the tender tissues of her cleft ever so lightly. Her slit quivered and shook as the ball took its toll on her restraint. Like strong liquor, her response to his careful stimulation formed in him a glow of satisfaction and pride, and a fever of need to feel that response applied to his own skin. With her vagina nearly full, the fourth ball was a tighter fit than the others, and he had to use two fingers as well as more force to wedge it all the way inside her canal. She gasped once more, arching at the final shove, and her vaginal sphincter snapped shut imprisoning the tips of his fingers along with the Ben Wa spheres. The position of his hand forced his thumb to push on her clit. Her hips bucked. His mouth watered. His cock twitched, and semen oozed from the tip. Lord, he wanted her now. But a bigger reward, a better orgasm would happen for both of them if he waited. Her muscles rippled over his fingers. Each involuntary stroke tantalized and teased. On an outward pulse of her vagina he yanked his fingers away. “Dear God in heaven. I‟m not certain I can stop from coming.” Alec wasn‟t certain he wanted her to stop. The radiance and agony on her face compelled him to help. Better orgasms be damned. He reached for her, eager now to bring them both release in any way he could. He wanted desperately to linger with her in that dark, intimate universe where, for a brief time, climax cast all lovers. But she raised a hand to hold him off. “No, wait a minute. I can get this under control. Honest. I don‟t want to have to start all 111

over, pleasant as that might be.” He held back not because he wanted to and only a little because she asked, but in truth because she was right. If they took the short route to heaven now, they‟d have to start again. That wasn‟t bad, but it might put them beyond the limit of the time given for him to be in charge. If that happened, they might never get to the place he wanted them to go physically or emotionally. He waited and watched, mesmerized by the inner struggle revealed in the narrowing of her eyelids, the quick lick of her tongue across her crimsoned lips and the rapid panting that spoke of pleasure‟s siren call. Her courageous spirit awed and her trust in his handling of her humbled him. He wanted that trust from her in all things, not just when they had sex, but he wouldn‟t hesitate to use sex to achieve his goals. When he‟d first made his plans for the night, he had no clear goal other than extending their time together beginning with a spectacular fuck for both of them. Over the course of the evening that had changed. The deal closer was when he‟d trusted her with his feelings about his father and the difficulties at Carter Enterprises. She‟d empathized and understood. He felt certain she would understand the position he would place her in tonight. If she didn‟t, he would explain before they went any farther. As long as he kept to the plan, tonight would be the beginning of a much deeper, more intimate relationship. Her breathing evened out, and her body relaxed a bit. “I‟m so hot, but I‟m afraid to move, or I might start coming again. Could you unzip my jacket?” “Uh, sure.” How had he watched all of that, been drawn by the gleam of frantic yearning in her eyes into her near orgasm and never noticed not seeing her breasts? Her bosom was a major turn on for him. It wasn‟t the only turn on and definitely was not as great a stimulus as seeing her climax. He reached for the zipper 112

The Widow‟s Revenge and lowered it gingerly. Her entire chest was flushed and damp with sweat. He lifted the sides of the jacket away, careful not to drag cloth or hands across nipples he knew to be hyper-sensitive, even when she wasn‟t aroused. With his cock surging and aching to burst, leaving those succulent buds untouched was painful, but somehow he kept his hands off. “Better now?” “Yes.” She nodded. Alec bit his cheek. Anything he said would just make the situation worse. Instead he focused on fastening the seat belts, setting the car in motion and getting to their destination as quickly and safely as he could. ***** Maggie clenched her teeth. The vibrations from the road traveled up her vagina, jostling the Ben Wa Balls and increasing the urge for sexual satisfaction, even if she had to masturbate herself into it. She didn‟t want that. This time she was holding out for Alec‟s cock seated deep inside her, its smooth warm pulsing flesh replacing the carved ivory balls that tortured her with each shift of the car on the road. Finally Alec slowed the vehicle again. “This last few yards are pretty bumpy.” She appreciated the warning as the front wheels dropped off the edge of the pavement and hit uneven ground. Inside her, the spheres rolled and bounced. She made the mistake of trying to clamp down on them with her vaginal muscles increasing the impact of the shifting balls on her sensitized flesh. She forced herself to relax. The intensity of the sensations subsided a bit, but the balls continued to shift, rub, and stroke with every movement 113

of the SUV. At long last, the vehicle came to a halt in the middle of a snow covered clearing. Foothills rose on two sides framing the view. The lake formed a gleaming black void and the mountains rose awash in moonlight, Tahoe glittered beneath the stars. She sat with him in silence for a few moments awed by the beauty, inundated with the scent and sensations of the past few erotic moments. “Are you alright?” he asked. Maggie nodded and stared at him. Besides his talent as a lover, this considerate tenderness would be her strongest memory. From the first time, up against that window glass when he‟d said, "you don‟t have to do this," Maggie had been lost. She hadn‟t known it at the time. Too much anger had clouded her vision, but even before the discovery that shattered her half-formed hopes and dreams, she‟d begun to recognize that care and tenderness were an essential part of Alec the man. Deep down she suspected that the trait was also the root of his strength and will power. That picture of him from the newspaper sprang once more to mind. What she‟d thought to be an odd mix of predator and protector was nothing more than rock solid determination to do the right thing. Then as now, the right thing for him was to see to her safety and wellbeing. It hurt more than she could bear to know that eventually some other woman would be the lucky focus of his determination. For now his attention centered on her, and she would cherish that attention long after he forgot her. “I will be fine, but I‟m still incredibly hot.” He had his coat completely open. One hand lazily stroked his monster erection. “I‟m hot too. Wanna take a stroll?” Desire consumed her, leaving no room for any thought beyond the moment and getting Alec‟s cock inside her. To rein in her longings, she studied the terrain just outside the car. “I don‟t 114

The Widow‟s Revenge know. It looks darned cold out there.” “All the better for cooling us down a bit.” Sighing, he released his shaft and re-buttoned his coat then removed their seat belts and unlatched the drivers‟ side door. “What about this erotic edge we've worked so hard to maintain? Won‟t the cold kill it?” Time was running out, and her greed for him was shameless. She didn‟t want to lose a moment of intimacy. “It could, but I think we‟ll be able to counteract that with a little activity.” “So you‟ve been planning this stroll all along?” A chill of apprehension thrilled across her skin before she came to her senses. Of course he‟d planned this. He never would have allowed her to use the Ben Wa balls if he didn‟t anticipate greater things to come, and the spheres were pretty great by themselves. She‟d rarely felt this full or this stimulated for so long. “What if I have? Are you unhappy with the results so far?” She‟d been watching him for days and was beginning to learn that not every casual gesture represented a casual feeling. That her happiness mattered touched her in the part of her heart she‟d refused to let loose until tonight. She now had one more thing to treasure from her time with Alec. With luck she would have hours more. She smiled. “I wouldn‟t call it unhappy as much as needy and impatient. I‟m tired of being on edge.” He fished in a coat pocket, withdrew a foil wrapped condom and handed it to her. “Then put this on me so we can get going, or you‟ll be on edge a whole lot longer.” “Since you helped me with the balls, I can hardly refuse to help you with this.” The spheres shifting inside her caused pleasant twinges, she knelt on the seat and rolled the thin latex over him. She watched his face and smiled to see him struggle to resist yielding to the pressure of her light strokes. She leaned forward, 115

her hand around his cock and ran her tongue in damp circles around his nipples, teasing but never really touching the sensitive centers. His groan was very satisfying. “Lover, we need to get out of this car right now, or I may shove my cock so far into your pussy those Ben Wa Balls will be in your throat.” Kneeling before him, her hand still on his pole, she grinned. “Now there‟s an idea. I‟d take you up on that, if I imagined for an instant that I could handle it all without serious internal injuries.” He reached out and flicked a finger across the tip of one breast. “Hold that thought.” The sharp pleasure that rose at his minute caress was followed by sharper longing. She loved having her pussy full and having him study her, loved knowing that the sight of her mons and her own pleasure delighted him. However, her body had many parts, and all of them yearned for his touch. All of her, mind, body and spirit, yearned to be the woman he lavished with his determined protection. She knew better than to hope for that, so she hoped he would touch all of her, caress all of her, imprint himself so deeply on her that in the lonely nights to come she could imagine him in her arms. Then he slipped from her grasp and out of the car. By the time he arrived on her side of the SUV, he‟d buttoned his coat once more, his penis tenting the cloth despite the chill air. She zipped her jacket and allowed him to assist her from the SUV onto the snow covered ground. The tops of her boots rose just above the powdery white that lay in drifts over the earth. Alec tugged her closer, bent and pressed his lips to hers. Steam from her overheated slit wafted upward between them. The musky scent of sweat and sex added a heady flavor to the taste of his mouth on hers. The Ben Wa Balls rippled within her channel. The combination was too much. Impatience to have Alec inside 116

The Widow‟s Revenge her drove her to shove him hard enough that he landed ass first in the snow. His coat gaped, and his rod jutted out from the folds of the wool. The fringe of his long scarf did just what she wanted to do. They clung tenaciously to the latex covered steely flesh. She pointed at his raging erection. “That is exactly what I want.” She bent to find the loop of ivory beads dripping from her crease so she could remove the antique sex toy. “Oh no you don‟t.” He grabbed her wrist before she could touch the beads then yanked her down on top of him. Maggie fought to regain the upper hand, but he was seated, and she was off balance. She ended prone across his lap, her face in the snow. One of his large hands secured both her wrists behind her. The hem of her jacket had fallen to her waist, and her bare ass pointed skyward over his knees. She raised her head, sputtering and spitting snow from her mouth, shaking the white stuff from her face and hair. While she was busy ridding herself of a snowy face wash. Alec was busy tying her wrists together with his scarf, leaving his hands free. “Alec, what do you think you‟re doing? I told you I‟m not a masochist. Release me this instant.” Something akin to panic rode on the rush of prickles to her breasts and the rapid flutter of her cleft. Having to submit to his control was bad enough when she could walk away any time she chose, but being to be tied, helpless and unable to get away was close to her worst nightmare. Her plan for revenge had sprung from despair and helplessness and look where that had gotten her. “Sorry, no can do.” Given their bet, she‟d almost expected him to refuse. She didn‟t expect—although perhaps she should have—the stinging smack of his palm on her posterior, or the thrilling contraction of her vagina around the spheres filling her channel and pressing against her womb. “Ow.” 117

The sensation was incredible. Looming panic increased her heart rate. She couldn‟t catch her breath. The tingle in her breasts tightened. Her pussy contracted faster and harder. That edge she‟d been riding between pleasure and orgasm collapsed like a wave into a roar of pained delight then with no respite built to even greater height and left her teetering again. She feared the next drop into bliss might kill her.

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Chapter Nine Lake Tahoe, December 7th “You‟ve been a very bad girl. And bad girls get spanked. That was for pushing me into the snow. This is for trying to remove the Ben Wa Balls before I told you to.” He smacked her again. Again her ass stung, and she restrained a groan. She refused to give him the satisfaction or let him know how close she was to losing control of everything, even her mind. Her breasts ached for any consoling touch. The beads of the Ben Wa abraded her clit making her squirm. Within her mons her muscles rippled across the ivory, sending shock waves to every extremity. His audacity infuriated at the same time that it charmed. How dare he spank her, and lord please don‟t let him stop too soon. She didn‟t like being under his thumb. Thank heaven the bet forced her to allow his discipline. But he‟d best be careful how hard he hit. If granted the opportunity, she had every intention of giving as good as she got. “I won the bet,” he reminded. “We do as I say until Midnight.” “It hurts.” Although it didn‟t hurt as much as she wanted him to believe. She actually enjoyed the stinging slaps and the intensity they brought to every other feeling. It wasn‟t just her body that gained sensitivity. Her nose twitched at the ozone in the crisp air. The snow slipping from the trees to the ground boomed against her eardrums. Normally she might not have noticed. Now, with each smack of Aleck‟s hand on her ass cheeks, every stimulus had greater effect. He laid three more stinging blows across her butt. “Those are 119

for not saying thank you to me for providing proper discipline when you misbehave.” Her butt burned. Only the chill air saved her from real pain. Her cleft and channel twitched in an agony of pleasure. Her nipples rubbed against the rough silk lining of her jacket and falling crystal flakes teased her lips. She wiggled in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure building in her pussy. The attempt failed, and she whimpered. “Please. Let me up.” Another slap set her throbbing from scalp to toes and heat coursing from her ass through her slit to her nipples. “Those aren‟t the right words.” Her resistance too close to breaking, she made a small concession and pleaded with him. “I can‟t stand this. I need some relief.” Three more quick smacks caused her hips to buck as her body shook with tremors of conflicting pain and pleasure. “All right, all right. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, for providing discipline when I misbehave.” She felt him bend over her, his lips against her nape where his tongue lashed her with six rapid tiny licks. “You‟re welcome.” Then his hand came down hard on her ass one more time. Outrage and surprise battled with the renewed contractions of her greedy pussy. She‟d done what he wanted, why spank her and make her suffer this prolonged delay any more? Maggie howled, and her back arched. He‟d filled his hand with snow before striking. The chill shocked. The slap stung. An orgasm shot through her, lifting her from her body into the dark. Her sight dimmed. The trees that lined the clearing blurred, blending with the paler sky and the white snow. Colors became indistinct, scents faded and her hearing dulled. How long she tumbled in ecstasy she didn‟t know. When she finally regained her senses, Alec‟s hand was soothing 120

The Widow‟s Revenge cool snow over her heated ass. Her body still throbbed. She could swear the Ben Wa Balls swelled to twice their original size. She felt stuffed full and achingly empty at the same time. She‟d come, but remained more desperate for release than before. A confusion of tears welled in her eyes. How was it possible to feel so much glorious gratification and frustrated dissatisfaction at once? “Tell me you understand who‟s in charge tonight.” His hands continued rubbing snow in circles around her butt, occasionally dipping a chilled finger into her crack far enough to tug on the beaded loop and wrack her vagina with semi-satisfying spasms. “You are,” she panted, trying to regain some control over her unruly, needy body. “Until midnight.” “Excellent. You‟re proving to be a very good student. Tell me what you want most, right now.” Maggie thought of all the things she wanted. Not revenge, not anymore. However, she did want a life free of gut-wrenching grief with someone who understood her as Alec seemed to and an end to her soul-destroying loneliness. Due to her own folly, she would forever be isolated in grief. That was her future, and she could say nothing about her future to Alec. What she wanted most at that very moment was his penis buried deep inside her, so deep that he couldn‟t leave until she let go. “Do I have to remind you of the consequences of disobedience?” One palm tapped lightly on her buttocks. The fingers of his other hand played with the beads between her legs and teased her overheated flesh. “No, no.” She didn‟t want that agonizingly beautiful, painridden pleasure again. Did she? “I‟ll tell you. I want your penis in my vagina. I want to climax with you inside me. Then I want another orgasm and another and another. I want your hot thick cum-stick to stay deep inside me making me climax until I can‟t 121

come anymore.” “I‟m inclined to give you what you ask for. However, I don‟t know if any man could sustain himself through all the orgasms you could have before you were exhausted. Nonetheless, I think we‟ll give it a try. I may even have something that will help. I was very happy to find you had another cylinder of that stimulant spray hidden in one of your shoes.” “How. . . . ?” Fury heated her face. Somehow it was worse for him to violate her privacy than to invade her body. She invited the later. She hadn‟t invited him to search her belongings. She supposed she couldn‟t blame him, given the situation, but that didn‟t make her less angry. “The day I arrived. I searched the room while you showered.” “You son of a. . . . ” A finger circled her clit, leaving a trail of want. “Careful. You can be as angry as you like, but do you really want to risk the consequences of calling names? Remember who‟s in control here and who has her bare bottom across my knees.” Maggie bit her lips against the rage she wanted to hurl at him and tried to keep from responding to that teasing caress. He drew his fingernail across the tip of her clit, and she squirmed trying but failing to prolong the contact. All the while the ivory spheres jostled and stroked inside her vagina. “Before we do anything else, we need to adjust your Ben Wa balls.” Adjust? A new frisson of anxiety mixed with anticipation added to the chill from the air. “What do you mean by adjust? Why not just remove them?” “Oh, I‟ll get around to that in a minute.” His hands lifted away. Curiosity joined the emotional mix. Part and parcel of her need to be in control, curiosity served that need. Knowledge was power after all, but like binding her hands, he denied her power by letting 122

The Widow‟s Revenge her wonder, withholding knowledge, control and the reassurance of his touch. Maggie felt bereft. Before she could mourn the loss of his touch too greatly, his hands returned. He spread her ass cheeks, and she felt the chill of the spray stimulant add to the cold air that hit her hole. As the heat she knew would follow began to build she heard the spritz of the cylinder again. However there was no further chill and no increase in heat until she felt what she thought was his finger prodding her pucker. A gentle push pierced the sphincter, then another and another. He was filling her anal canal with the smaller Ben Wa Balls. Heat from the chemical spray bloomed in her ass as he eased the final sphere inside. “You sprayed the balls?” She wasn‟t certain whether or not she was glad. Body heat intensified the effect of the spray designed to shock nerve endings with alternating and opposite stimuli. A small amount went a long way. If too much was applied at one time in one spot, priapism was a mild word to describe the resulting intense and sustained stimulation. “That‟s right. Now you get to have that icy warmth torturing your shapely sensitive ass, while my cock samples your wet, aching pussy.” “Be careful,” she warned. “Over use of the spray can be dangerous.” “You‟ll just have to trust me,” he purred. That was the problem. She trusted him, but she didn‟t know if she could trust his restraint with the spray. Nonetheless, they‟d passed the point of no return, and the best she could do was submit to the approaching sensory storm. The chemical agents in her ass channel worked as they were designed to. Her rectum rippled, and she wiggled in a vain search for relief. The larger Ben Wa chain in her vagina vibrated in concert with her movements. Alec still had a finger wrapped in the 123

beaded loop, so each move resulted in a pleasantly painful tug, and jism flowed down over the balls. She‟d been slowly dripping feminine juices since leaving the restaurant. With the increased stimulation, the lubrication now soaked her pussy and leaked onto her thighs. Only the heat of their sex play kept the liquid from freezing on her skin. “Ah, I see you‟re ready to have these removed.” With anguishing care, Alec tugged the string of large ivory balls from her slit. Even coated with cum as they were, the tiny ridges of the carvings abraded her swollen labia. Tremors shook her body and pushed her closer to the knife edge of ecstasy without toppling her into the abyss. “Here.” He placed the four spheres on the snow in front of her face. “Lick those clean, while I untie this scarf.” The scent of her own cum was overwhelming. She gave the nearest ball a delicate swipe with her tongue, savoring the musky flavor. She felt her hands fall free. Alec massaged her wrists and shoulders, restoring circulation. “Hmmm. That feels good.” She finished with the first orb and started on the second. His hands stroked down over her bottom and back to her neck. “You might want to speed it up a little. I‟m not going to fuck you until all four balls are sparkling clean.” “But. . . .” “Ah, ah.” His palm tapped her butt firmly. “We have at least another hour before midnight.” “Sorry.” She inched forward to get closer to the balls and gobbled cum as fast as she could. By now some of the liquid had frozen, forming small cum-sicles. The flavor was the same, but the texture was unlike anything she‟d ever had, sort of halfway between sherbet and soft-serve ice cream. 124

The Widow‟s Revenge “Done,” she announced when the fourth ball gleamed pristine in the moonlight. “Excellent.” He clambered out from underneath her, and she felt snow melting beneath her overheated mons. Before she could do more than note the chill against her skin, he grasped her by her far hip and shoulder and turned her over onto this overcoat, shielding her from direct contact with the snow. Her legs splayed, and her butt landed atop the beaded loop attached to the string of balls rolling inside her anus. She groaned at the tugging pressure there. With the added stimulus of the spray, coherent thought became impossible. Her entire being focused on the scrape of carved ivory against hypersensitized nerve endings. He rose and moved around her to stand naked at her feet, save for his boots. His latex covered penis jutted proudly from the nest of black curls that topped his scrotum. The cold seemed not to affect him. Delighted by the sight of him, her body hungry for his cock, she smiled. “That‟s the best view I‟ve seen all evening.” He grinned back. “Thank you. The view from here is stunning.” He couldn‟t see it in the moonlight, but she felt her cheeks flush. “That‟s sweet of you to say.” “Nonetheless, it‟s the truth as I see it. Now spread your legs wider and bend them so your heels are pressed up against your butt.” Aware that she was close to getting what she wanted, she complied. She no longer cared who gave the orders, as long as she got fucked. Every small shift of her hips and butt put tension on the beaded loop and tugged her anal Ben Wa Balls into a new position. The stimulation combined with the alternating heat and cold from the spray was close to unbearable. 125

Alec knelt before her and allowed the fingers of one hand to skim her labia and the tip of her clit. Maggie moaned and more shivers thrilled her body. Need reigned supreme, and she wriggled, trying to get that finger to press harder. He pushed a finger inside the entrance of her vagina. “Yes,” she groaned, desperation growing. “Fuck me.” “Soon,” he soothed and inserted a second finger. Spreading her cleft wide, he bent closer. Maggie heard the hiss of the spray then felt stimulant coat her vagina. Lord, she didn‟t know if she could survive more. Alec released his hold on her and heaved the cylinder into the woods. She squirmed, producing more tugs on the spheres in her ass. The chilly heat of the balls stimulating her anal canal joined the welling hot-cold in her pussy. Involuntary spasms shook her entire sex, traveling up and down her body, making her ache with want. She lost what small control she had left. A fog of incoherent thought and feelings drifted through her mind as heat, cold, throbs and prickles teased her with temblors of climactic anticipation. Alec knelt on his coat between her legs. Then, supporting himself with one hand next to her shoulder, he covered one nipple with his mouth to lick and lick and lick. Her hips heaved, and her head tossed. “Lord in heaven, suck me, fuck me, hard, please?” He ignored her pleas. His free hand teased and plucked at her other nipple. She grabbed handfuls of his hair and lifted his head, forcing him to look at her. “Did you hear me?” “Let go.” His gem hard eyes challenged her. “I need to be fucked. Now!” “I heard you. And I will fuck you. Later.” His eyelids narrowed, and his lips thinned. 126

The Widow‟s Revenge “But. . . . ” She backed down before the determination in his gaze, afraid he might deny her all night. He pinched her breast, releasing the pressure quickly. “Not midnight yet, and I want to taste you. So you‟ll lie there and let me. Right?” His fingers tightened on her nipple. “Right.” She agreed. Maybe too rapidly for a woman bent on revenge, but then she‟d already admitted to herself that she no longer wanted revenge. Alec didn‟t deserve to suffer for the actions of another man. And that man was beyond any earthly vengeance. What did she want? Other than a dozen or more orgasms, she wasn‟t certain, so she followed where Alec led. “Good. I suggest you taste me too.” His growl made the suggestion sound like an order. Maybe tasting him would distract her from the sensory knife blade cutting her resistance to pieces. The idea appealed so she licked his shoulder, nibbled on his neck and suckled his earlobe, while her fingers played at his nape. He groaned and clamped down on her breast. The gentle prodding of his cock at her crease accompanied the sharp pull of his suckling and the insistent tug of the beaded string attached to the balls filling her anus. More desperate for his fucking Maggie spread her legs even wider. His penis speared her nether lips then paused at her brink. “Alec.” She nearly wept with frustration. He released her breast and rose over her, grasping her hips with both hands, lifting and positioning her for his thrust but remaining still. “Fill your hands with snow and use it to play with your pretty globes,” he ordered. That implacable expression remained fixed on his face, though his heaving chest hinted that his control was close to the breaking point. This time she didn‟t even hesitate. Every time she did anything 127

but what he told her to do resulted in delay. The shock of the icy snow made her already stiff nipples rock hard. She couldn‟t restrain a gasp, but she managed to move her hands in circles, massaging the piercing cold into her soft flesh. The heat in her cleft continued to build, and her labia spasmed seeking purchase on the cockhead poised just beyond her reach. “Good girl.” With that faint praise he plunged into her, lavishing her body with his own. Maggie‟s fingers tightened on her nipples as her vagina sucked him inside. Her anal muscles clamped down on the ivory balls then rippled over them. The inner caress shot her ass upward, forcing Alec‟s long thick phallus deeper into her slit. The deeper he went the stronger her vagina and anus clamped and released, the faster and higher her hips thrust. He withdrew. Frustration and pleasure leaked from her eyes, freezing into crystal beads on her cheeks. He plunged again. She cried out. “Yes, oh yes, Alec, please, yes.” Her hips rose in his hands as he withdrew only to plunge again and again. Consumed with feeling, she tossed her head. The balls in her ass channel vibrated with Alec‟s every stroke. And every stroke pushed him deeper and deeper inside her. She felt pressure on her nub. Her body writhed in response. Breath heaving, she pinched her nipples. Her body felt ready to burst. The pressure on her clit became a trill of flicking fingers. She fell, at last, over the precipice into that swirling valley of dying joy and orgasm. His body continued to pound hers for an eternity of brief seconds until he collapsed atop her. She knew he floated with her in that vast cocoon of sated pleasure, but she couldn‟t find him. She tightened her vaginal muscles, and imprisoned his cock inside her. She could not lose 128

The Widow‟s Revenge him now. Not when she‟d found peace for the first time in years. But, she would lose him, even push him away if it came to that. For Alec‟s sake, their parting was inevitable.

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Chapter Ten Lake Tahoe, December 8th Maggie lazed in bed and watched the early morning sunlight gleam in Alec‟s dark hair. A quiet snore escaped him, and she smiled. The sound was prosaic, ordinary, yet nothing about Alec or their situation was ordinary. She‟d been wrong about him, so wrong that she couldn‟t go through with her plans for revenge. He didn‟t deserve to be ruined for his father‟s unprincipled greed. Nor did he deserve to risk having their affair exposed, and despite all her precautions, the longer they stayed here, the greater the possibility that someone would track Alec down and discover them together. She sighed. As much as she wanted to linger and finish out the week, she knew they would both be better off if she disappeared from Alec‟s life forever. Yet, when she returned to the house with him, she continued the sex play that so satisfied them both, even slept with him, when she should have been driving her ass as fast as possible out of Tahoe and away from Alec Carter. She knew the reason why leaving Alec was so difficult, but she couldn‟t bear to admit that reason to herself. Those feelings were much better left unexpressed even in thought. Alec stirred and shifted onto his back. His hand fell onto her thigh, but he continued to snore. Now. Go now. Before he wakes and leaving is impossible. She eased from the bed, gathered her clothes and belongings then made her way to the second bedroom. Packing took less than five minutes. She dressed warmly before retrieving the DVD 130

The Widow‟s Revenge recording of her bedroom activities with Alec. She stuffed the disc inside her suitcase between layers of clothing and zipped the case shut. Downstairs, she thought about writing a note. What could she say? What possible explanation could she give? A simple note was as impossible as staying. So she took one last look around the kitchen and the living room where she and Alex had made love last night before tumbling into bed. She knew now that Alec was the mate of her soul. They would never be together, so her soul would be forever barren. She was destined to be alone for the rest of her life, but she would no longer be consumed with grief. She would live and perhaps even come to cherish the ache in her heart because that ache was for Alec. She closed her eyes in farewell to the place and time shared with him. Then she turned and unlocked the door to the garage. She stowed her suitcase, got into the car, started it and pushed the button to raise the garage door. ***** Alec woke to the rumble of a car engine. He shook his head and wiped his eyes, noticing at last that his lover of the past three days was not beside him. Another sound, like the rattle of a garage door had him leaping naked from bed and rushing to the front door. He opened the door just as a nondescript sedan with tinted windows backed out of the driveway and into the street. Ignoring the snow, he ran for the car. The vehicle accelerated and sped away. He didn‟t even get a license plate number. As he watched the car turn a corner and disappear, a woman approached from the end of the block. She was walking a dog. They got closer, and her jaw dropped. She stared. Her dog started barking. The woman fumbled for her cell phone. Alec remembered he was naked, ran back into the house and for 131

the first time noticed the cold. He dragged himself up the stairs and went through the motions of getting dressed. He didn‟t call out. Didn‟t search. He knew she was gone, and he had no idea who she was or how to find her. He gathered his things, packing haphazardly as his sense of betrayal and loss deepened. He would hire people to find her, but he already knew they would fail. He loaded his car and got in, turned the key in the ignition and drove to the airport. He‟d hoped to change his single ticket for a double fare. He‟d hoped she would trust him with her name and history, believe in him enough to come with him. But she hadn‟t even trusted him sufficiently to finish the week. ***** Back at Carter Enterprises headquarters, he went through the motions. Passed the holidays in a haze of grief and suppressed anger. Each week he received a report from the private investigators hired to find his mystery woman, his Camille. Each week they reported failure. How much longer would he continue to torture himself with the vain hope that she could be found? At the mid-January meeting of his management team he introduced the new department heads and asked for progress reports on the restitution of insurance benefits. He listened as each manager droned on about changes, cost-cutting, efficiency improvements, goals attained, goals set and a million other details necessary for the management team to know. His ears tuned to the voices around him, but his mind and his lonely frustrated heart sought out Camille‟s image. He could feel her breath quicken beneath his caress, but emptiness filled his hands. He dined on the flavors of her skin and the elixir of her juices, but hunger starved his mouth. He heard the song of her ecstasy, but silence reached his ears, underscored by the murmur of voices around him. He 132

The Widow‟s Revenge inhaled the intoxicating aroma of woman musk, ginger and oranges, but the scent escaped him, just like his mystery woman. Forcing his full attention back to the management reports, he was pleased to hear that all but eight hundred of the beneficiary claimants had accepted restitution over time. The Vice President of Financial Affairs warned that issuing checks for the remaining debt at this time would place Carter Enterprises on very shaky ground, making the company vulnerable to hostile takeover. Alec considered repayment of those benefits a moral imperative. But he didn‟t want to risk the company, not when he was just beginning to make something worthy out of it. What, he wondered, would his mysterious widow think of the situation. She had betrayed him, lacked the courage and honor to explain before she left, so maybe she wouldn‟t care about the families who suffered financial ruin on top of deep personal loss. The thought pained him that she would be so cruel, and he didn‟t really believe it. “Don‟t mail the checks.” Still suffering from his mental selftorture, he spoke more harshly than he intended. Where had she gone? Was she safe? Well? Happy? Did she seek solace in some other man‟s arms? That thought soured the last of the satisfaction from the reported business successes. He walled away the twisted thinking. He refused to torture himself further and focused on his management team. The Vice President of Financial Affairs grinned as if he‟d achieved a personal victory. “However,‟ continued Alec. “Contact each and every one of the people involved and inform them that the checks are available to be picked up here at Carter Enterprises headquarters.” “But. . . ” objected the Financial Affairs Vice President. Alec lifted a hand to halt the warning he knew was coming. “We must make restitution. I acknowledge that we cannot handle any 133

more mass revenue loss. If those checks are issued one at a time over the course of several months, I believe Carter Enterprises will survive and be stronger for it. Those are my orders. Is that understood?” The widow‟s smile peeked around the barriers he‟d erected, and he despaired of ever blocking her from his mind. Thank heaven for the work of running Carter Enterprises. Without that, he might well consider ending everything. “Yes sir,” conceded the Vice President of Financial Affairs. The other department heads nodded and confirmed their understanding of Alec‟s wishes. “Very well. Let‟s move on to the next agenda item.” ***** Each month Alec asked for a report on the progress with issuing the checks. By May, only fifty remained. Each month he sank deeper and deeper into despair. The private investigators continued to fail to locate Camille. He should tell them to stop. He couldn‟t. Waiting for every disappointing progress statement gave him purpose. Stupid as it was, in the days before each progress statement, hope would grow, and for a day or so, he‟d believe that at long last she would be found. He was always disappointed. On June sixth, Alec was a few moments late arriving at the office, so very few people were waiting at the elevators. He wasn‟t in a mood to be with people and allowed two cars to come and go until he was the only person waiting in the lobby. A car arrived. The doors opened, and Alec stepped forward at the same time as the only passenger. They collided. Alec lost his grip on his briefcase, and the woman lost her footing. The case landed in the doorway and prevented the elevator from closing. Alec landed on the woman. He knew her instantly. Her spicy ginger and oranges scent 134

The Widow‟s Revenge alone was enough. He didn‟t need to see the lake-deep blue eyes.

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Chapter Eleven New York City, June 6th Maggie sat at one end of the huge conference table in the Carter Enterprises headquarters boardroom. The coffee brought minutes ago by a secretary sat untouched on the table. Two plainclothes security officers stood before the closed double doors at the opposite end of the room. A Vice President of Legal Affairs, she thought, sat on her right. The man read from a complicated legal document. His voice droned on and on about an agreement between the undersigned and Carter Enterprises for complete restitution over time of any and all insurance benefits to which the claimant was entitled by virtue etc. etc. etc. The jist was that she would receive the death benefits denied by cancelation of David‟s life insurance policy. The words registered on part of her mind, but most of her attention was given to the man on her left. Alec‟s tiger-eyed stare snarled into her, clawing at her peace and ripping her heart to shreds. His thin-lipped expression and absolute stillness frightened her more than she could say. His expression said it all. She knew an inquisition was coming once the formality of business was finished, and she had no clue what she would tell him. “Do you understand the terms and conditions of this agreement?” asked the Vice President. Unable to force words through her throat, she nodded. “Then sign here please on all three copies.” He presented her with a pen and pointed with his finger to the signature line. 136

The Widow‟s Revenge She scrawled her name. The man passed the documents to Alec. “Sir.” Alec signed the copies and slid them back across the polished surface to his Vice President. “I want everyone besides Mrs. Winters out of this room now.” “Yes Sir.” The Vice President gathered his papers and left. The security guards followed. The door closed with a whisper soft click. The sound hit Maggie like a gunshot, and her shoulders jerked. “You haven‟t drunk your coffee.” “I‟m not thirsty, thank you.” She was, however, exhausted. Worry over bills. Anxiety over mistakes she‟d made that could harm Alec. Despair over her longing to see him. Frustration over her efforts to ensure she never saw him. All of it combined to fray her nerves and her peace. She hadn‟t slept well since December. She doubted she ever would. Now, weak and more vulnerable than she‟d ever been, she faced her failure to protect Alec and dreaded the consequences. Where that cowardice had come from she didn‟t know. Her situation was of her own making. No one had forced her to attempt revenge. Nothing but her heart compelled her tender feelings for the man seated across from her. She bowed her head. Yes, the consequences to come would be painful, but she deserved them and would accept them without protest. Alec stood. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small carved ivory box, very similar to the case that contained the Ben Wa Balls but smaller and square, not rectangular. The ivory was less yellowed, much newer than the Ben Wa case. He set the box on the table next to his coffee cup—also untouched. Then he turned and moved to stand before the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the New York City skyline. His stance, hands on hips, reminded her of the position she‟d taken in front of the plate glass window that first day in Tahoe. 137

Along with the rush of memory came the sensation of being pushed toward a precipice with only Alec to keep her from falling. Anxiety tingled in every nerve. “Why did you come here today, Maggie?” Maggie swallowed trying to clear her throat enough to speak. “I told you. I received a. . . a letter about the benefits restitution.” “And you needed money?” “I have bills to pay, yes.” “You could have dealt with the paperwork by phone or mail. Why take the risk of running into me, as you did?” “The situation was somewhat urgent.” “I imagine it would be. Your husband‟s been dead nearly four years now. Are you working?” “No. At first I wasn‟t able to, and then I. . . I became obsessed.” “Obsessed?” The piper called, and it was time to pay up. She gathered her small store of strength, took a deep breath and confessed. “I blamed the CEO of Carter Enterprises for David‟s death.” “You blamed me.” His tone was flat. “No.” She straightened, turning her head to keep him in sight. “I blamed the man who sent David, a research scientist, to negotiate with known terrorists in a country where even speaking English could be a death sentence. I blamed your father. I still blame your father, and I still hate him. I didn‟t know that you and he had the same name. I didn‟t even know he had a son.” Alec sighed. “I understand your feelings. I blame my father too, for a lot more than the death of one man. In one way or another, his actions caused the deaths of thousands. But tell me how—when your husband worked for Carter Enterprises for eight years—you could not know? “Like David, I‟m a scientist. I was absorbed in my own work. What did I know about aspects of David‟s company that didn‟t 138

The Widow‟s Revenge even interest David?” “Knowing you and your tendency to concentrate to the exclusion of all else, I can believe that. He maintained that flat tone. Unable to see his face, she sank back into her chair, despair taking over her body as it had taken over her mind. She wished he would hurry to the part where he had her arrested and locked away. Why did he need to prolong the inevitable? “I‟ve been waiting for you, Maggie. You laid a trap for me, I laid one for you.” “The check? How did you know?” “That day in the elevator, you dropped the cylinder of spray stimulant. I had it tested but didn‟t receive the report until recently. That cylinder was a sample from your husband‟s research project. When I read the circumstances surrounding his death it wasn‟t a great leap to figuring out who you were.” “So you would have found me even if I hadn‟t shown up.” She‟d been right. From the moment today when the elevator doors opened and she collided with Alec, she realized their meeting had been inevitable, and just as inevitably he would discover her betrayals. Thick, cloying resignation coated her despair and her stomach churned. “Probably.” He still had his back to her, but she saw his shoulders tense. “Will you have me arrested?” “On what grounds?” “The stimulant. You could say I stole from the company.” “I could, but that might be difficult to prove. Your husband did some of his work offsite, didn‟t he? I assume you found the sample.” He was right. “What then, sexual assault?” She stopped herself. Was she trying to get him to have her arrested, to punish her for 139

all she‟d done? If only he would say or show how much he hated her, maybe she could make peace with herself. “You didn‟t assault me. I went to Tahoe willingly. Just as I set this trap for you, and you willingly came. Open the box, Maggie.” His quiet, almost tender tone made her want to weep. Maggie took the box with trembling fingers. After two tries, she managed to flip open the top. Staring at her was a square cut lake blue sapphire surrounded by diamonds in an antique setting. “It‟s Burmese and belonged to my great grandmother.” A long silence ensued while she tried to figure out what the ring meant. Why would Alec want her to see it? Did he hope to torture her with what might have been? Too late. She fed herself agonizing dreams on a daily basis. Perhaps he intended to frame her for theft. Go ahead, she‟d welcome the cold comfort of prison bars. “I don‟t understand,” she said at last. “What don‟t you understand? I want you to marry me.” “I can‟t.” “Because you don‟t love me?” The blaze in his eyes wasn‟t the anger she‟d imagined. It was a protective gleam. Alec Carter was a far better man than she deserved. If she loved him even a little, she had to keep him from making the mistake of a lifetime. “No, because you don‟t know me enough to love me. You don‟t understand how horribly I‟ve treated you.” “I wouldn‟t call what we did in Tahoe horrible.” The quirk that lifted his lips could only be called wry. “That isn‟t what I mean, and you know it. How can you ever trust me again? “Because whatever you meant to do, you didn‟t. The worst thing you did to me was to run away before we could get things straight between us. Why did you leave Tahoe? “How could I have stayed?” 140

The Widow‟s Revenge “Just answer the question.” Maggie hated her stupidity, hated saying it, but it was the least she owed him. “I realized my mistake. You aren‟t your father. You‟re kind, generous and thoughtful. Because I gave in to hate, I nearly destroyed you.” Afraid that he might really love her and equally afraid he might not, she felt her breath coming in gasps. Dizziness struck her head. Nausea attacked her stomach. Buffeted in a maelstrom of confusion, she searched for an anchor and found none. “You left me and wrecked my life so that you wouldn‟t destroy me?” “No! I left because I couldn‟t stand to hurt you. I lo. . . . ” She shut her mouth. “Yes. You love me.” “Yes, fine. I‟ll say it. I love you. Because I love you, the best thing for you is never to see me again.” “Don‟t you think I should decide what‟s best for me? I am an adult, you know.” He stepped closer, making certain she could take his hand. “But. . . . ” He was serious. He wasn‟t playing a game, didn‟t intend to betray her as she had him. The realization broke through the confusion clouding her mind along with a relief and joy that began to mend her broken heart and wounded soul. He raised his palm. “No. You‟ve had your say. Now I‟ll have mine. When we first got to Tahoe, you didn‟t even know who I was. You thought I was my father. I didn‟t understand your confusion at the time. I do now. Despite not knowing my true identity, you recognized the real me, you fell in love with me. Believe me, love that grows so suddenly is vastly confusing, especially if you believe you shouldn‟t love the person you do. If you could come to love me in the space of three days, why can‟t the same be true for me?” 141

“This is insane.” She scarcely dared to hope, but with every second her belief in the truth of his feelings became stronger. “Maybe, but it‟s the kind of insanity I want for the rest of my life, if you‟ll marry me.” His smile eager, he reached for her hands, tugging her to her feet. “Please say yes. My life‟s been empty without you.” “And if I agree, if I say yes.” “Then that the ring is yours, with only one other condition.” “Isn‟t marriage condition enough?” A giddy laugh bubbled from her mouth as the last of despair faded away. “Not in this case. I give you the ring if you marry me, and we go back to Tahoe to finish our week.” “Our week?” “We started something in Tahoe, something that has to do with trust. I believe that the only way to resolve any doubts is to finish what we started. Because once we leave Tahoe this time we need to have complete and utter faith in each other. We need to know that each of us has equal power, authority and control in the marriage. Maggie Winters, knowing those conditions, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He paused, standing so still he must be holding his breath. “Yes Alec, I will marry you. However, before we say our vows, I have a few conditions of my own.”

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Chapter Twelve Lake Tahoe, December 6th Maggie tugged on her sweats. Then, shoes and socks in hand, she left the bedroom, easing the door shut behind her. Headed for the mid-size workout room with attached sauna, she padded barefoot down the stairs. She took a moment to adjust the settings at the sauna so it would be ready when she finished her workout. Next, she sat in a chair just inside the arched opening to the workout room to put on her shoes and socks. Ready at last she entered the room and turned on the treadmill for her ten minute warm up. While she walked she stared into the room‟s mirrored walls and compared the months spent last year luring Alec into her wrong-headed trap with the past six months of being his fiancée. She was the happy lover of a thoughtful, generous and very skilled lover. The difference between now and the shellshocked widow she‟d once been was like the difference between song and silence. Her heart sang daily and grief was a distant memory. The conditions she‟d asked for the day Alec proposed had all been met or eliminated. Her stipulation that they not have sex until they married had been first to go. She‟d wanted to wipe out the past, to begin all over again, but after a mere two weeks, she‟d been unable to resist. Every time they had sex, no matter where or when, Alec made certain she was always in control, even when she asked him to be in charge. It hadn‟t seemed to matter, sex with Alec was always thrilling. Almost more thrilling than sex had been their work together at Carter Enterprises and with the charitable 143

foundation established in David‟s name. They‟d discussed their separate and shared scars received from Alec Carter Sr. and decided the best use of the fortune amassed under his leadership of Carter Enterprises would be to establish aid centers in the world‟s most war torn nations. Under the auspices of the International Red Cross, the centers would address the full range of human needs from food, clothing and shelter to treatment for mental and emotional disorders brought on by the ravages of war and cruelty. The time between Alec‟s proposal and the anniversary of their Tahoe week passed quickly, full and happy. Then she announced to Alec on Thanksgiving Day that she would spend the next two weeks in Tahoe. He could join her there on the anniversary of their first time in the resort town. He‟d agreed to her plans with one small change. ***** From the middle of the stairs, screened by the banister rails, Alec watched Maggie‟s reflection pump iron in the mirrors facing the workout bench. She‟d shucked her sweats after she finished her warm up and now sat on the weight bench doing chest flies in a snug spandex exercise bra and the tiniest excuse for shorts that he‟d ever seen. He‟d woken without her and panicked. She‟d abandoned him before, and despite the past six months, he still feared she‟d bolt. He sat and watched, beginning to believe she‟d stay as she promised. She was, after all, tying herself to Carter Enterprises and their charity work, plus keeping her promise to stay with him and finish out their week in Tahoe. His self-imposed six months of submitting to her control in sex in order to restore her confidence in her judgment was over. 144

The Widow‟s Revenge Today, he would take control. He had waited a long time for her to trust herself. Only then, he knew, could she truly trust him. Now, that time had arrived. Today, he hoped she would bare her soul to him as well as her luscious body. Then her groan had reached his ears, and he‟d leapt naked from the bed headed for the stairs. Good thing they were carpeted or she might have heard him rushing toward her, until the sight of her stripping off her sweats then perched on the bench lifting those weights halted him in his tracks. Mesmerized, he sat on the stairs, his hard-on stretching upward in painful eagerness for the sweat dampened pussy he glimpsed every time her thighs shifted and the hem of her shorts moved. Her muscles bunched and released with each rep, the heavy weights just brushing the tips of her breasts enough to make the nipples poke at the snug bra. Beads of perspiration trickled from her forehead down her throat, and over her collar bone to disappear down her cleavage. The aroma of woman musk filled his senses. His cock wept a semen tear, and Alec pondered running down the stairs, lifting her legs, whipping the shorts off and plunging his rod into her steamy wet slit. Before he could act on the thought, she stood. She returned the weights to the storage rack. Then she crossed her arms over her chest, gripped the band of her bra in both hands and removed it. Alec‟s mouth went dry as her perfect breasts popped free of the restraining spandex. He‟d seen them, tasted them, worshiped them and still the sight held him in awe. His penis throbbed, demanding attention, so he gripped the shaft with one hand and eased his palm up and down, giving just enough stimulation to temporarily satisfy the needy organ. While he soothed his insistent member, Maggie toed off her shoes, shucked her shorts and removed her socks. Naked she strode to a rack of towels and took two. She wrapped one around her hair, and with the other towel in 145

her hand, she disappeared behind a door set into one end of the workout room. The little puff of steam that escaped as she entered told Alec the room must be a sauna. He couldn‟t decide if he was cursed or blessed. A sauna was no place to have sex. Aside from the dangers of heat prostration, many people had cultural restrictions against sex in a sauna. He had no idea if Maggie was one of those people or not. The blessing was that she was naked. He could join her, and when they left the sauna they would both be naked. Eager as she‟d been to fuck him lately, he didn‟t think they‟d make it back to the bed before he was deep inside her and she was begging for him to make her cum. Now that sounded like a plan. He hurried to the workout room where he adjusted two of the three bench segments so the hinge between them was raised and the padded panels locked at a forty-five degree angle. He draped a towel over the exposed hinge grabbed another towel to take with him and strode to the sauna. ***** Legs splayed, back slumped against the cedar walls of the sauna Maggie was completely relaxed, so she resented the swift blast of cool air that shot into the small chamber. She cracked her eyelids and stared at the man standing just inside the door, preparing to ladle water onto the heated rocks. Alec. And who else did she expect? But she hadn‟t expected him so soon. In fact she‟d hoped to be showered and dressed before Alec woke up, so they could have a meal and talk. Talking to him was the only way they would resolve the power and trust issues that remained between them. Sex was too distracting. A gush of steam rose from the heated rocks. Alec replaced the ladle in the bucket of water that stood by the door then climbed 146

The Widow‟s Revenge the tiered benches to spread out his towel and take a seat opposite her. His rampant erection drew her gaze first. She knew his cock was enormous. She‟d had the monster in her mouth, in her vagina and up her ass, but the sight of his flesh pop rising skyward above his navel was too delicious to ignore. She licked her lips recalling the musky flavor of his skin and the hot creamy smoothness of his semen as it spurted against the back of her mouth then slid down her hungry throat. He grinned at her and settled back to let the moist eucalyptusscented heat sweat the toxins from his system. Wouldn‟t he taste great when he was done. The subtle but heady aroma of fresh eucalyptus was one of her favorites. She let the silence stretch out as she contemplated all the places on his body where she would like to lick, suck, nip, nibble, even gently bite. She could see him with a big hickey in the shape of her lips plastered just above the crack of his butt. Putting it there would be a distinct pleasure, particularly if he were so distracted by what her hands were doing to him that he didn‟t notice the mark immediately. Her mouth went dry at the thought, and she knew she‟d been in the sauna long enough. “Sorry, but I‟ll be poached if I stay in here any longer. I need a shower.” He started to rise. Descending to the lowest bench, she held up her palm to indicate he should stop. “Please don‟t feel you need to leave with me. Stay. Enjoy the sauna for as long as you like.” “I‟ve had enough,” he stated. She shrugged her shoulders, stepped to the floor and reached for the door. As she exited the cooler air of the workout room hit her front like a chill wind, but her back was toasty warm. He must be right behind her. She slowed her step by half a stride, and there it was, his cock bumping her backside. Her nipples came erect from the chill, and her hairless pussy twitched from the heat, 147

releasing enough liquid to drench her labia. She wiggled her butt to keep the juices from dripping down her legs and walked faster. His hand on her shoulder pulled her back against his warm damp body. His rod speared between her legs. There‟d be no hiding her arousal from him now and no hope of delaying their next sexual bout until after they talked. “This way darling. I haven‟t had my work out yet.” He placed his other hand on her hip and guided her away from the archway to the interior of the workout room. “You‟re supposed to exercise before you use the sauna not after.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Don‟t worry. I won‟t tell the sauna police, if you don‟t.” Each breathy word struck her lobe. Shivers coursed down her spine and into her womb. Just like the first time at the bedroom window, she had almost no control over the situation, and she could see no way of getting it back before she was well and truly fucked. “I‟ll be happy to wait for you. In fact I‟ll cook us a meal while you‟re exercising.” She made one last effort at escaping. “That‟s very kind of you. However, I need your help at the weight bench. What say, I help you cook afterward? Hmm?” His teeth closed over her ear lobe, not biting, but sliding side to side, abrading the tender flesh. Her eyes closed. She sighed with pleasure and continued to move where he guided. “Yes. Sure, just don‟t stop doing that.” So she was weak. Did it matter if they talked before sex or after? They came to a halt, and she opened her eyes. They stood in front of the weight bench. “I hope you‟re going to explain how you plan to work out with the bench in that position?” She pointed to where two of the segments stood hinged at an angle. 148

The Widow‟s Revenge “Oh, that part‟s for you.” “Huh?” She turned her head to look at him. His grin and the gleam in his tiger eyes made him look like a little boy on Christmas morning getting the best gift ever. Her eyelids narrowed. “What are you up to?” “I promise you‟ll enjoy it. Now kneel on the flat segment of the bench and lean your hips against the inclined part.” Before she could protest, he guided her legs onto the bench and positioned her hips. “Lean forward so your torso extends out over the other side and brace your arms against the rail at the end of the last segment of the bench.” He had his hands solidly on her hips, and she wasn‟t going anywhere unless he let her, so she did as he instructed. “Excellent. Now don‟t move.” Suddenly he released her hips and moved around in front of her. His enormous penis waved in her face. “If you wanted a blow job all you had to do was ask. You didn‟t have to go to all this trouble.” He was bent at the waist, fumbling with some adjustment on the bench. “It‟s no trouble, and I don‟t want a blow job. At least not right now. There, all ready. ” She heard two clicks as he stood upright. She looked down past his staff and his sac. “You handcuffed me to the bench?” He nodded that Christmas morning grin still on his face. “Why? I wasn‟t planning on going anywhere.” “Right. You‟re only going where I want you.” He moved out of her range of vision. She heard his feet padding toward the archway. He was leaving her? How? Why? What did he think he‟d gain by abandoning her like this? “Alec you bastard, come back here. Alec! ALEC!” “Ssh, darling. No need to be so upset.” 149

“Why did you leave?” She tried not to sound like a frightened child. “I needed to get a few things.” He set an unmarked container within arm‟s reach on the floor beside the bench. He uncapped the container and a faint minty scent rose on the air. She eyed the container. “What kind of things?” “Hmmm. I‟m not certain you need to know, but I can show you these for starters.” He swung a plastic bag filled with condoms in front of her nose. Good lord, there must be fifty condoms in there. She hoped he wasn‟t planning to use them all this morning. “Thank you for being so considerate.” “You‟re welcome. You seem a bit tense, and it‟s very important that you relax, so I‟m going to help.” She wasn‟t certain relaxing was possible, given the manacles and the position she was in. He moved out of sight once more. Then she felt him step up behind her. Heat from his thighs warmed her chilly legs, and his cock pressed hot and strong against her buttocks. She heard him rub his hands together then he placed them on the nape of her neck and stroked downward to the end of her spine. Heat rushed over her back in waves, and she almost didn‟t notice the oil he spread until a minty scent seeped into her nostrils as the warmth penetrated her body. His hands stroked upward along her sides, inward across her shoulders to her spine, then down again, but this time kneading instead of stroking. He continued administering the back rub until she was so relaxed her head dropped and her arms nearly buckled. Before she could collapse, his arms circled her waist, and he lifted her limp torso upward resting her back against his chest. The chains on her manacles stretched tight. His cock slid between her thighs, and he shifted his hips forward and back, dragging his 150

The Widow‟s Revenge penis across her labia, causing her vagina to clench and throb and her juices start to flow again. At the same time he poured more oil from the unmarked container onto his fingers, rubbed his hands together then plastered his palms over her nipples and began kneading again. That icy heat pierced her breasts and, combined with the stimulation to her nipples, caused more waves of heat to roll through her body centering in her belly where her womb and channel clenched and released in spasms of pleasure that only lacked a phallus to send her into orgasmic paradise. She whimpered at being so close to climax and yet so very far. “What is that stuff, and what the hell are you doing to me?” “Remember that stimulant spray we used in the elevator and again in Tahoe last year.” “How could I forget?” “This is the latest version. The oil form makes precise delivery of the stimulant much easier.” “Easier for the one applying the oil.” Heat and cold washed over, causing her entire body to quiver. “Well, yes. The intensity of the stimulant has also been increased, so the one receiving the stimulant has a much stronger reaction. Now be quiet and do as you‟re told.” His hands rubbed circles of oiled heat from shoulder to mons and back. Each time his massage drifted downward, she prayed he would touch her clit, penetrate her labia, and fuck her silly. She ached, and yet her body was completely lax. She had almost no control of her movements. Soon her entire torso was slick with the oil that chilled and warmed at the same time. “Wha. . . What do you want,” she panted. Spasms wracked her body with every breath. “All in good time, darling, but first let‟s try this.” Her body still resting against his torso, his hands reached for the oil bottle once 151

more. “Nooo. I can‟t take much more.” “Oh I think you can.” He smeared oil on the tip of his index finger, coating the digit heavily. Then he gave her what she thought she wanted. Reaching down and bending them both forward, so her hands once more gripped the bar at the end of the bench, he traced his finger around her cleft. The now familiar hot chill seeped into her skin, and her nether lips began to quiver like the mouth of a hungry babe questing for a teat to suck. And like that child, when her lips found nothing to milk she mewled. Circling back around, he drew his finger tip along the ridge between her slit and her ass, painting her pucker with oil and even poking some inside. Sensitized as she was, that small intrusion made her cry out. “Yes, please.” She thrust her butt back at him, trying to seat his finger deeper in her anus. He took his supporting arm from around her waist and swatted her ass cheek. The light spanking sent more heated waves shuddering through her. Without support, she sagged forward, pulling her ass away from his finger and her hope of climax. “Naughty girl. You have to learn that I am the one in control here. I am the one who decides if and when you will come and for how long. You have to trust me to use that control to please us both.” She hated him in that moment as much as she loved him. Her anus burned and froze in time with the spasms that shook her empty, quivering pussy. The only part of her sex that wasn‟t seized with constant stimulation—the only part he hadn‟t touched with that devil‟s concoction—was her clit. As if he read her mind, his oil coated fingers stroked that sensitive nub. 152

The Widow‟s Revenge “Nooo!” But her protest lacked force, all her energy taken up by the constant ebb and flow of heat and cold that held her body captive. “Oh yes.” He lifted her once more against his chest. She lay against him panting, her eyes closed, certain that she would expire if he didn‟t make her come. “Let‟s see how your clit likes a massage, shall we?” “Massage?” She liked having her nubbin stroked. “That sounds good.” “Are you sure? I massaged your back a little while ago, and although your body seems relaxed, you don‟t appear to be very happy.” He shifted his head, placing his lips against her cheek and sucking there. While he marked her cheek, his oil slick hands traveled downward over her breasts plucking at her nipples and lower kneading her mons and spearing her labia apart to stroke her clit on either side. “Look, darling. Open your eyes and watch.” Pressure built inside her. Her ass cramped. Creamy liquid flowed from her empty pussy dripping down her thighs. “No.” Squeezing her eyelids tight, she refused to give him that satisfaction. He had everything else his way. “Do you want to climax?” Stupid question. Of course she wanted to come, wanted to end this torture of sensation more than anything. “Tell me.” He insisted. She nodded. “Yes, damn you.” “Then open your eyes and watch.” He slowed his caressing fingers until the faintest touch whispered across her clit. With each barely there caress, her swollen labia fluttered, stroking the tip of his glans poised at the brink of her vagina. She felt her vaginal jism leak onto that tantalizing bit of flesh weeping for the satisfaction he withheld. 153

In that moment she resented his power over her, but she opened her eyes. There in the mirrored wall she saw her writhing, lust ridden body, gleaming with the oil that coated her from chin to mid thigh. Her gaze followed his arms down to where his fingers spread apart her engorged labia and eased around and over her swelling clit. The tiny nub was three times its normal size, and she knew that one good pinch, even a single scrape of his nail over the tender bud would send her into orgasmic paroxysms. She wanted that orgasm more than she‟d wanted anything in her life. Her earlier towering desire was nothing, beside her immediate need for relief. The torturous stroking continued. She lifted her gaze to his, pleading with her eyes. His devil‟s grin gleamed back at her. “Good girl. Now tell me what is your name?” “You know my name.” “But I want to hear you tell me. It‟s the one thing I desperately wanted that you never gave, never trusted me with the first time we were here.” She shook her head. He shrugged against her shoulders and eased his cock back from the opening to her channel. “I can do this all day. Can you?” She was getting tired of the whimpers that emerged from her throat in answer to his questions, but she had little strength for any other response. All her energy was directed to her body‟s search for release. And no, she couldn‟t do this all day, or if she could, she didn‟t want to. She wanted to come. Now! “Maggie,” she said at last. That fingernail she‟d thought about moments ago dragged slowly across her clit. Her body bucked and pleasure quivered through ever cell and fiber. “Good girl. Maggie what?” She shook her head, waiting for the waves of pleasure to take 154

The Widow‟s Revenge her higher, farther from the limbo of desire to a paradise of satisfaction. But it didn‟t happen. Instead the heightened shudders continued to ache into her breasts, ass and belly. Impossibly, her clit expanded and her labia fluttered faster. Desperate, she mewled a plea. “Please?” “Your full, legal name and where you live. Then and only then do you get to cum.” “I could lie.” “You could, but I‟d know, and we‟d have to start all over again.” He bent his head and scraped his teeth over her nape adding to the shudders that tortured her. He followed the scrape with a lick that did nothing to soothe and everything to increase the desire that burned, chilled and shook her.“Maggie Carter, Penthouse Suite, Carter Towers, 154 W 42nd Street, New York City, New York.” His fingers strummed her clit, and his cock drove so deep into her pussy that he touched her womb. She hadn‟t thought she could feel more, but the intensity of his invasion had her screaming in ecstasy. With every thrust the shudders of heat and cold grew. Her hips pistoned. She had to climax, needed an orgasm. If she didn‟t come soon, she‟d die. He flicked her clit then pinched it over and over. Each time her belly spasmed, and her juices flowed faster. But satisfaction remained out of reach. How much longer before her heart gave out? Thrusting his cock fast and hard, he continued strumming her clit with one hand, letting the other drift backward over her hip. She writhed and squirmed, her rhythm echoing his, until the fingers of that drifting hand prodded her anus. The pucker opened, and he plunged two fingers inside, stroking the thin membrane that separated her ass channel from her vagina. He added a third finger and pushed against the membrane. His cock swelled and the friction on her G-spot doubled. 155

She shrieked, crazed with stimulation. Her body bucked and spasmed as she toppled into paradise. Distantly, she felt her body continue to clench and release in time with the jerks of his deeply seated cock spurting into the condom that protected them both. The orgasm went on forever, or seemed to, until at long last he sagged forward over her back. His thrusts ceased, his cock slipped from her pussy, and he eased his fingers from her ass. Aftershocks trembled through her with each breath and tiny shift. She lay there boneless, bent over, drifting in a euphoric haze. Cool air struck her back. He stood beside her head, bent and unlocked the manacles. She didn‟t have the energy to move or even berate him for chaining her. He slid his arms around her, lifted her up, cradling her against his chest. She felt his lips against her hair. “I love you Maggie Carter. Thank you for becoming my wife.” “I love you too Alec. Thanks for asking.” “Let‟s get you cleaned up.” She drifted still doing nothing but feeling as he walked from the workout room, up the stairs to the shower where she knew he would take gentle care of her, until she was ready and able to take extra good care of him.

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About The Author I am a wife, mother, author and have been a teacher, a sailor, an admitting clerk, a painter, tile layer, cook and bottle washer. I live in Michigan with my husband of thirty plus years and two very superior cats. My sons are grown, so my husband and I are downsizing our lives. In the not too distant future, I‟ll be moving to a new home (probably still in Michigan, although I hope someday to live in a year-round warm climate—I‟m definitely NOT a snow bunny). I‟m pretty ordinary and in many ways very, very blessed. My friends include waitresses, teachers, nurses aides, accountants, professional speakers, veterans and active duty military men and women, a host of publishing industry professionals, and a huge number of moms and dads. And that‟s only a small part of the list of very diverse folks who I like, love and admire. Some of us are avid travelers (me, me, me ), some have hobbies (everything from gaming to quilting), some are homebodies, some are workaholics. The one thing all of us share is a love of reading. We don‟t always like to read the same things, and when we do, we don‟t always have similar opinions about the quality of what we‟ve read. And only a few of us blend our love of reading with a passion for writing. I developed that passion very

early, writing my first poem at age 7. The best part of writing that poem was sharing it with my mom, then with other readers. My mom can no longer read my writing, but you can. I hope you enjoy and learn something from everything you read. If you‟d like more information about me and my books please visit my website http://RueAllyn.com. Thanks, may all your reading tease your senses.

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