‘I'm off to bed,’ Harriet told Rowena. ‘It was a lovely evening.’ Rowena peered at her through the smoke of one of her rare cigarettes. ‘Did you enjoy it? You don’t look very happy.’ ‘I’m just tired. I’m not used to such late hours!’ ‘Have you seen my brother?’ ‘Chris went into the garden,’ Harriet told her. Rowena smiled. ‘He's drunk too much. I'll say goodnight to Lewis for you; he’s busy right now.’ The woman with her laughed. ‘He certainly is. Marita keeps most men busy. She nearly killed my husband last year!’ Rowena’s laughter joined her friend’s and Harriet fled upstairs, certain that they were secretly mocking her. She lay awake until six in the morning but Lewis didn’t join her, and she guessed then that the story must have been true and Marita had kept him busy. At first she wept, but then she told herself that crying was useless. A man like that was bound to be used to casual affairs — what she had to do was make herself indispensable to him, no matter what was nece
SYNOPSIS:When Clare Markham has an extension added to her house, she finds herself increasingly - and mutually - attracted to the hard, muscled body and sheer physicality of builder Gary Newby ... CHAPTER 1 EVERY DAY FOR a week. The same routine. First thing in the morning after she’d dressed and made-up. She felt ashamed of herself. She felt like a guilty schoolgirl, hiding behind the lace curtains of her bedroom window so she could see but not be seen. She couldn’t help herself. It was hot and after only a few minutes of digging he would strip off his shirt. His legs were already exposed, by jeans cut off at the top of his thighs. Clare Markham had never seen a body like it, which is why it fascinated her. His chest was broad, his abdomen flat and delineated by hard, stringy muscles, his biceps bulging as he worked. He was tall with long legs which were contoured by thick, well-defined muscles, his whole body like some relief map of musculature. His buttocks were small and tight
It had been a long day. Every time Clare had arrived home since the building work had begun Gary had still been busying himself in the back, usually on his own, his two other workmates long gone. But tonight Clare was late and he too had gone. The house felt empty. She missed the banter they usually shared. It was already seven thirty. She went upstairs to the bathroom at the front of the house, stripping off her black suit as she went. In the new bathroom she would have a separate shower cubicle with a powerful shower, but at the moment she had to make do with the shower attached to the mixer taps of the bath and a glass screen at the side of it to prevent the water splashing over the floor. She adjusted the temperature to lukewarm, pulled off the rest of her clothes and stood in the rather sluggish stream, allowing the water to wash over her. As she closed her eyes and turned her face into the water she thought of Gary, his hard body covered with sweat. She wondered what it would f
‘No one must ever find out about this. No one.’ The second line was the same too. ‘I know.’ ‘Come over here, then.’ He took a step forward then stopped, anticipating, like a bad actor, what the next line of the script would be. 'Stop. You know better than that, don’t you?’ He looked shamefaced. His cock hardened further, growing to its full stature. ‘Yes,’ he said. He dropped to his knees on the long—pile cream carpet.'That’s better.’ Slowly he shuffled forward on his knees until he was right in front of her. She raised her left foot and wriggled her nylon covered big toe against his left nipple. It made his cock quiver. 'You know what to do?’ she said. Again this part of the script was always the same. 'Yes,’ he whispered. Even if she hadn’t been able to see the excited state of his cock, his expression would have betrayed how he felt. Sexual arousal blazed in his eyes, its tension etched in every line of his face. He took hold of her left foot with both hands and brought i
HAD SHE KNOWN Bridget Goldsmith planned to descend on London, Clare would never have allowed work to start on the extension. What with all the necessary planning and work the visit entailed, the last thing she needed was to come home at night to a house that looked as though it were in the process of being demolished. She could have moved out. She could have gone to stay with her friend Angela. Instead, once the builders had breached the back wall, she had moved her clothes and make-up into the front bedroom, next to the bathroom, and she had made do, eating out, since her kitchen had disappeared, and taking comfort from the fact that George Wickes assured her the building work would definitely be finished in two weeks’ time. There were, however, two compensations. The first was that she could see the work in progress and check it was all going to plan. It only took two days to knock out the wall to which the extension would be fitted and after that every day brought new additions,
‘Did you think that was me?’ he yelled into the microphone. He addressed the question to the women sitting nearest to the rostrum. ‘Yes,’ the audience screamed as one. ‘Naughty girls! I’m much bigger than that.’ He tossed the wand to the woman in the dinner suit, who had retired to the side of the curtain, then began gyrating his hips in time to the music. 'Look at those muscles,’ Angela shouted into Clare’s ear. ‘Reminds me of your Gary.’ They reminded Clare of Gary too, and, despite herself, she felt a pang of desire. The stripper began to pull the chiffon pantaloons down over his hips, turning his back to the audience and bending over so they were peeled over his very tight buttocks. When he got them to his knees he jumped around to face the audience again. He sat on the floor, jack-knifed his legs out in front of him and pulled the pantaloons off over his ankles. ‘Now it gets interesting,’ he promised as he sprang to his feet. ‘I really don’t want to see any more,’ Clare m
Clare felt a strong and powerful pulse emanating from her sex. It caused her nipples to pucker. She felt cold, little chips of marble nestling in her bra. Getting up off the bed, she switched off the television. She usually had a bath or shower when she got home but had decided to wait until Gary had finished. She supposed she felt faintly embarrassed about being naked while he was in the house, however silly that seemed. Clare thought of herself as liberated and independently minded. She wasn’t too concerned with social niceties or the quibbles and taboos of conventional morality. That did not mean, unfortunately, she thought, that she had escaped the conventions of the sexual role that she had been nurtured in from an earlier age. In the mood she was in she would have loved: to be able to go downstairs, not fancifully dressed in flimsy lingerie like something from a scene in a porno film, but dressed as she was now, and ask Gary if he would like to go to bed with her. As simple as
‘MORNING, MRS MARKHAM.’ George Wickes smiled courteously. ‘Morning, Mr Wickes.’ Clare was on her way out of the front door. ‘Everything all right? Just come to check up, as usual.’ ‘Everything’s fine. Really taking shape now.’ The carpenters had fitted the floor of the new kitchen and bathroom and were busy installing the new kitchen units. ‘Should be finished tomorrow. Then you can start to get back to normal.'Gary Newby had not turned up at the house since their night together on Tuesday. She remembered him saying he wasn’t coming in the next day, but it was Friday and there was still no sign of him. She didn’t have his number or address. ‘That'll be wonderful. Ah, while you’re here - I just wondered . . .’ She didn’t know how to put it. ‘Yes?’ He looked worried, as though there was going to be a problem with the work. ‘Gary. I just wondered if Gary would be coming in again.’ ‘Should be. He’s on another job at the moment. He'll be here to finish up tomorrow, though.’ ‘Oh.’
‘I'm off to bed,’ Harriet told Rowena. ‘It was a lovely evening.’ Rowena peered at her through the smoke of one of her rare cigarettes. ‘Did you enjoy it? You don’t look very happy.’ ‘I’m just tired. I’m not used to such late hours!’ ‘Have you seen my brother?’ ‘Chris went into the garden,’ Harriet told her. Rowena smiled. ‘He's drunk too much. I'll say goodnight to Lewis for you; he’s busy right now.’ The woman with her laughed. ‘He certainly is. Marita keeps most men busy. She nearly killed my husband last year!’ Rowena’s laughter joined her friend’s and Harriet fled upstairs, certain that they were secretly mocking her. She lay awake until six in the morning but Lewis didn’t join her, and she guessed then that the story must have been true and Marita had kept him busy. At first she wept, but then she told herself that crying was useless. A man like that was bound to be used to casual affairs — what she had to do was make herself indispensable to him, no matter what was nece
FOR THE NEXT two nights Lewis spent hours in either Harriet’s or his own room, bringing her time and again to the heights of ecstasy she had come to expect from him, and every time she climaxed, every time he taught her something new, she was bound more closely to him. The fact that he was slowly being bound more closely to her was something Lewis chose to ignore. Then, on the Saturday, everything changed. Harriet had been surprised to be invited to the dinner party, and had cancelled her planned evening with Ella because she didn’t want to miss the chance of a genuine film star’s party. Ella green with envy, had understood but demanded a full report in exchange for being let down. ‘I want to hear all about what Rowena wore, ate, drank and how she behaved,’ she told Harriet. ‘Of course. I'll tell you about Lewis too.’ ‘I’m sure you will,’ said Ella, who already had her suspicions about Harriet and the star's husband. When they finally sat down to dinner, Harriet found that she wa
Lewis’s own erection had now subsided but at the sight of Harriet being aroused to new and only dimly understood heights, he felt himself start to stir again. As the startling feelings continued to grow, Harriet’s breasts began to ache and after only a slight hesitation she reached up, drawing Lewis’s head down towards her. ‘Tell me what you want,’ he murmured. ‘My breasts,’ she moaned, thrusting them up towards his mouth. “They ache.’ ‘And what do you want me to do about it?’ he teased. Harriet didn’t know if she could tell him, but the insistent clamouring of her needy flesh won over her deeply ingrained reticence at vocalising her desires. ‘Suck them for me, Lewis, please.’ ‘Hard or soft?’ he asked, his hand still continuing its pressing movements and his finger drawing up the clitoral hood as he worked so that he could brush lightly across the top of the exposed nub. ‘Hard!’ she begged, her body now nothing but a pressurised aching need for the final stimuation that would a
THAT EVENING CHRIS and Rowena went to the opera. Lewis hated opera. ‘Good music spoilt by bad acting,’ was his opinion and nothing he saw ever made him change his mind. After they'd gone he went in search of Harriet and found her reading a book in the comfort of the drawingroom. ‘We've got the house to ourselves,’ he said with a smile. ‘How would you like a nice bath? We can use the tub in Rowena’s bathroom - it’s meant for two.’ Harriet lifted her eyes from the page. ‘I had a shower this morning, thanks.’ For a moment Lewis couldn’t believe he’d heard her correctly. “You don’t have to be dirty,’ he said with a laugh. ‘It’s meant to be a sensual pleasure.’ Harriet smiled in an absent-minded way. ‘I’m sure it would be, but I’m a bit tired tonight.’ Since nothing in his imaginary script had prepared Lewis for this he was totally at a loss. ‘I'd like it,’ he said slowly. ‘Doesn’t that matter to you?’ With a soft sigh Harriet put the book to one side. ‘Of course it does, Lewis, but
Harriet felt that she was going to explode. Her body was being racked by liquid fire and then the incessant drumming of the pulse between her legs changed to a startlingly intense tingling that felt hot and rushed upwards through her with terrifying speed. She shouted out loud, knowing that she could no longer keep her body still even to please this man who meant so much to her. At the sound Lewis moved his fingers to the side of her clitoris and rubbed the slippery tissue with tiny circular motions as he moved in and out of her, his own body straining for relief from the continuous sexual tension as much as Harriet’s. It was Harriet who came first and as her body went taut with the first fierce contractions of her orgasm her vaginal walls contracted tightly around Lewis so that she felt as though she was milking him. She heard him groan and then he was thrusting without thought for her, thrusting solely to give himself the satisfaction that he knew Harriet was about to get. Harri
LEWIS STARED AT Harriet, hiding his anger behind a mask of indifference. Inwardly he was raging, not only at the fact that she had come into the room uninvited but also at his own stupidity in allowing Rowena to persuade him to make love to her at a time when he should have been concentrating solely on Harriet. ‘Rowena will be with you in a moment,’ he said smoothly, his arousal dissipating at great speed. Harriet’s eyes were wide and she stared at her employer as Rowena, ignoring the younger woman's presence, continued to move herself up and down on Lewis until with a cry of pleasure her body gave itself over to the warm flooding joy of orgasm. Harriet knew that she should leave the room but her legs seemed unable to move. She stayed rooted to the spot watching Rowena’s total abandonment to her sexuality. She felt almost consumed by envy, having spent most of her waking hours imagining what her next sexual encounter with Lewis would be like. Now she was forced to face the fact tha
Harriet was shocked by his casual acceptance of what they’d seen. Rowena was his wife, and even an open marriage didn’t usually include letting your wife have sex with her half-brother. She decided he was simply good at hiding his emotions, and that this was the only way he could cope with the situation. She was wrong. Lewis was drawn to Rowena sexually; like most men he admired her body and found her sexual magnetism alluring, but emotionally he was untouched by her. Their marriage had suited him as much as it suited her. The joining together of his analytical, muchadmired director's brain and her renowned sexuality and beauty had attracted almost as much attention in Hollywood as Marilyn Monroe’s marriage to Arthur Miller. Looking into the bedroom again, Harriet realised that Rowena’s first priority didn’t seem to be freedom from her bonds so much as freedom from her frustration, for once she failed to loosen her wrists she got to her feet and stood in front of one of the bed-post
WHEN LEWIS LED Harriet into a tiny room two doors down the landing from his bedroom she thought first that she was in a cupboard, but as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness she realised that it had originally been intended as a dressing room, although the adjoining door had now been filled in. There was little furniture there, only a high backed chair and a two-seater settee in front of a square window, which let in no light at all. She turned to Lewis in bewilderment. ‘What is this room?’ ‘Sit here next to me on the sofa and look carefully at the window,’ he said softly. Puzzled, she stared at the glass, and after a few seconds realised that she was looking into a distinctly feminine bedroom lavishly decorated in various shades of lilac. As she watched, a figure crossed her line of vision, and she saw Rowena walking totally naked from her adjoining bathroom back to her bed. Harriet ducked down and Lewis laughed. ‘She can’t see you, it’s a two-way mirror.’ ‘You mean, anyone
Every nerve in Harriet’s body seemed to be alive now. She was trembling with excitement and frantic for more intimate touches but when she reached for his hand to try and move it where she wanted he shook his head. ‘It’s better to wait,’ he assured her. In the adjoining room Chris felt his own breathing quicken. Lewis was playing her with consummate skill, and her restlessly moving legs and upthrusting young breasts were testimony to her arousal. He himself was hard, and longed to be allowed to join in, to take the girl in the ways that he liked, the ways that kept Rowena enthralled. He was surprised by his reaction. Normally he would simply have wanted Rowena more than ever, but he knew that he was going to have to have Harriet before too long. At last Lewis took pity on Harriet and lightly kneaded some of the lotion into each of her breasts in turn. He heard her breath catch in her throat and her eyes were grateful. Then, to Harriet’s surprise, he moved himself up the bed so that