And he falls silent.Waiting for my response?"That's good," I say, "because I don't want to share you either."He smiles and sits back, sipping his wine, his expression thoughtful."Tell me about 'redbreast' and 'ravens'," he says. "I expected you to simply give me 'yellow' and 'red' or something similar. It sounds as though there is a story behind the two words.""It's from when I was a little girl," I say. "There were ravens at the bottom of our garden, and when I was small, they seemed so huge.""You were frightened of them?""Yes. They felt like monsters from some fairy tale to me.""And redbreast?""The other bird I always saw in the garden was a robin. He used to follow my father around when he was digging the ground. Dad would toss worms and leather-jackets to him. He was a friendly little thing. I loved him, and I always put out food and water for him in the winter. He was a sort of childhood friend."Ryan nods. "Nice story." he smiles.I shiver a little,
He strips me.Whereas previously he has undressed me slowly, now I am almost unwrapped. My dress is a simple knitted jersey, skin-tight and clingy, showing my curves. He smiles appreciatively, running his hands over my contours, over my neck and chest. He slides his hands down to the hem, then tugs upwards, peeling it up and off me, leaving me in bra, panties and shoes.And my body reacts to his mock-violence; I'm liquid and warm inside, readying for him."Do you trust me, Kirstie?"My heart begins to pound. "Trust you? Why do I need to trust you?"He smiles, clicks open his briefcase and produces silk rope, soft, pliable and, as he trails it over my skin, with a silky, sensual texture. "Are you willing to let me restrain you? To bind you? I did it before with my tie, but not properly. You don't know me very well. Are you happy for me to do that?"Am I?Do I trust him?I do..."Yes, I think I am.""Good." He kisses the nape of my neck, then roughly, I am scooped up,
He pulls away, freeing my mouth, stroking his shaft as he speaks. "Tell me why you want me to behave this way with you. Why do you enjoy it so much?""Don't you like it? I thought you did?""I love it," he says, "but I want to understand why you do?""Sometimes... Sometimes... just the feeling of giving up control is the best feeling in the world. Out there... in 'real life', whatever that means, I have to look after everything, work, earn money, pay the rent, look after my dogs. When I can give up control, all that goes away, and the only thing left is the sheer sensation of..."Of fucking?""Yes."He moves closer, the sweetness of his breathing bathing my face. "Of making love...?""Yes," I whisper."You don't want me to do it in public though?""No, I want to see your gentle side in public. It makes me weak at the knees.""And in private?""You make me wet.""Good, I want you wet tonight... and tomorrow...""Tomorrow?""I want you walking bow-legged."A
"I want to talk to you," he say. "And I'm returning your bag. It was in my car that evening up at Michael's place.""Yes, when you abandoned me and left me without even the money for a taxi. I'd have been in real trouble if Michael weren't a very decent man."I snatch the proffered bag from his hand. "And you can't talk to me here. Even if I thought I had anything to discuss with you, I have no authority to let you into the building. So, please go, you can see I've got my hands full, can't you."His gaze finally transfers to the sobbing Erin in my arms."Why's she crying? What's wrong?""As you already know, Erin's broken up with her boyfriend. And, as you can see, she's very upset. I simply can't handle my job, her and you all at the same time. Now Ben, please leave. If anyone sees that I'm letting you stay here, I'm risking my job.""Too late." comes a voice from behind me, grit in the tone.I startle and swivel to face the lean-faced James, looking down at me, his expr
Ben speaks slowly, almost slurring his words.He's humiliated...... But he's doing it anyway..."I spoke with Kirstie a few days ago. She didn't want to talk to me, gave me a real piece of her mind..." James side-glances me then returns his attention to Ben. "She told me that, well, all of you are volunteers in what you're doing and that's it's really none of my business and... that I should apologise to you."James pauses, digesting his words. "It's not me who needs the apology, Ben. I can understand why you felt the need to defend your brother. But Charlotte is a different matter.""I know, I know. Is she here? I'll talk to her while you're present if you would prefer that. I'm guessing that you don't want to leave me alone in her company...""You are quite correct there," says James. "Kirstie, can you call Charlotte, please. I believe you will find she is in her own office, extension 4528."Back at my desk, I tap the number, "Um, Charlotte, it's Kirstie here from the
"Really?""Yes, really. I liked the way you dealt the situation out on the street the other day, and Ben in the downstairs lobby; even, dare I say it, the situation when Ben dragged you to our home, although I'll admit, that's with the benefit of hindsight."I flush. "You didn't seem very impressed at the time."He rolls his eyes ceiling-ward. "Yes, I've never apologised for that, have I...""I don't think you have a lot to apologise for, Sir. I feel terrible about it...""Well, get over it. It's in the past. I want to talk about where we go from here. It seems to me that you handle yourself rather well in awkward situations and that being the case, I have a favour to ask of you."What's he talking about?"Right... what is this favour?"Perhaps I look suspicious. For a moment, he meets my eyes, his gaze level, expressionless; then he says, "Don't misunderstand my motives, Kirstie. I'm not about to go dipping my nib in the office ink. It would be horribly unprofessional
James pauses, letting that sink in.Weighing up my reaction?"But..." I stammer. "But everyone thought that was a terrorist attack or an attempt at ransom. That's what the news reports said."He arches his brows. "The full details of that... incident... were not released to the news agencies, and I think that people who commit such acts could be called terrorists, don't you?"I drain my cup and sit, staring at the dregs. James takes the cup from my hand, refills it and pushes it back into my hand.Sipping my coffee again, "So, the people you are watching for are dangerous then?""Oh, yes, very dangerous." He leans forwards, touches my hand, "Don't misunderstand, Kirstie. I am not asking you to get involved. I wouldn't do that. It would be grossly unfair of me. But since you are doing the job you are anyway, I thought I'd speak with you; sound you out."What's this all about?"Why would anyone want to hurt Charlotte? She's such a nice person, at least when people aren't
"Open up," he murmurs.I swallow, looking around, but the sea of faces is aimed squarely at the stage. "Are you going to do as you're told?" he says, not looking at me at all, his attention apparently on the stage."Here?""Yes, here. Open up."Easing my thighs apart, despite my nerves, my pussy glows, growing loose and moist. His hand covered by my cardigan, Ryan's fingers glide up and in, sliding inside my panties, weaving through warm, damp curls and further.His eyes still looking straight ahead, "Yes, gratifyingly wet there. Good girl. That's how I want you." A finger advances further, probing my pussy lips, skimming my clit. Struggling to keep my gasping silent, juddering as I struggle for self-control; in my peripheral vision, Ryan is suppressing a smile as he makes relentless spirals of my hardening nub.His voice is low but distinct. "I'd finger-fuck you, but I think the movement would show, so for now, I'll settle for this...""Ryan...""Shhh... You'll d