“Of course,” he said, gritting his teeth against his urgency. Finally she unrolled the condom over his rock-hard cock and again straddled the bench. She wrapped her hand around him, found her opening with the tip of his penis, and slowly lowered herself onto him until he was just an inch inside. How many times had a man entered her like this? She couldn’t count, but it never failed to excite her.
When she grinned and held her body still above him, his hands grasped her hips and tried to pull her down. “Not yet,” she said. She lowered herself, allowing him to slowly fill her, then, when he was totally encased within her, she squeezed her vaginal muscles and felt him jerk. She knew exactly how he liked it, so she slid her hand beneath her, found his anal opening, and rubbed her finger around the rim for a moment. Eventually she couldn’t keep her body still enough to stay in contact with his ass, but she knew he was now beyond caring. And, of course, he also knew that she would not allow him to come until she had.
He growled low in his throat as he drove himself deeper into her over and over. She found his rhythm and rode him until she felt her climax deep inside her. She reached for it, found it deep in her womb, and let it overtake her, her vaginal muscles clenching and relaxing around the hard cock lodged in her.
“Now, Chase, now!” she yelled and, with a loud roar, he came, then collapsed back onto the bench. She lay atop him, their breathing rapid, their bodies wet with sweat and slightly salty water. Slowly she rose, climbed from him, and disposed of the condom. She scooped up several handfuls of hot spa water and sluiced them over his calming body, then took a towel from the heated closet beside the rock wall and slowly dried him, then herself.
As she slipped her caftan back on she asked, “Can I make you a quick bite to eat?” Last time they’d been together they’d shared a sandwich before he left.
He was almost completely dressed by then and slipped his feet back into his loafers. “Thanks, Pam, but I think I’ll just do a drive-through. I’ve got a case full of work and there will be faxes waiting at home.”
“Okay, if you insist.”
“Business before pleasure,” he said.
“Nonsense. This was all pleasure, but I understand that you don’t have much time, with the party tomorrow and everything. The invitations said three, so I’ll expect you mid-afternoon. Will you be driving by yourself or coming with some of the guests?” She knew better than inquire whether his wife would be coming. He’d snapped at her the last time she’d asked.
“I’m picking up several of the men on the way here.” He kissed her forehead. “It’s great that you do all of this for me.”
“Parties and the rest, that’s my business. I’m very well paid for these shindigs.”
“For everything else, too.” He smiled and she knew that he was not the least upset by the knowledge that an extra thousand dollars would be included in the “entertaining” charges to cover the previous hour of their special kind of amusement. Extra would be hidden in the bill as well for the ladies attending the following afternoon, and more if they made his associates “happy” afterward. He’d already told her the names of the men who might want some extra companionship, and he’d write everything off on his taxes as business entertaining.
He slid his arms around her shoulders and kissed her again. They understood each other completely. Together they walked through the elegant house to the front door. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, then walked out to his BMW.
After he backed down the long driveway, Pam wandered to the end to pick up her mail. She pulled a stack of letters, circulars, and catalogs from the box and flipped through them. In the middle of the stack was a plain white envelope addressed in block letters with no return address and no stamp. Curious, she tore it open and pulled a sheet of plain white paper from it. The words glared at her, spelled out in letters cut from a magazine.
You will be punished again and again for what you’re doing.
She stared. She’d wondered about a few recent incidents, flowers dug up, scratches in her car, feces left in her driveway. Now she was convinced that those weren’t just random acts. Her breathing quickened and she put her hand against her breastbone. Someone knew everything and was making trouble, torturing her slowly before letting the bomb drop. Her mind whirled and she couldn’t separate her fear from her anger. No, not now! Now, when everything was going so well. Someone knew. She wanted to scream. She wanted to curl up in a little ball and cry. She wanted to call someone to come over and help her. She looked again at the letters on the page.
You will be punished again and again for what you’re doing.
Screaming or crying, she knew, would get her nowhere, and there was no one to call. Not yet. Marcy? What did this mean for her? No, she couldn’t involve Marcy yet. Linc? Of course, but not yet.
Her hands began to tremble and her breathing gathered speed as adrenaline poured into her body. She felt her heart pound. It was all over. Her lovely life, her business, all over. She felt prison bars close around her and pictured the headlines. THE MADAM OF MAPLE COURT ARRESTED FOR PANDERING AND PROSTITUTION. And Marcy would be dragged into it. PROPRIETOR OF CLUB FANTASY JAILED. Pam couldn’t bear it if her best friend got into trouble because of her.
At the sound of a motor she looked up and saw a shiny black SUV slowly pull into the cul de sac and circle, the woman behind the wheel seeming to stare at her from behind large dark glasses. She glanced at the license plate. HOBART3. Chase’s wife? Could she be responsible for the note? It had to be her. That car being here was too much of a coincidence. It made sense if she really did care about him. Of course. It had to be. Shit! Was this all about to blow up in her face because of Chase’s wife? Shit, shit, shit! What now? Should she confront the woman? Find out how much she knew? Tell her it was all just sex? Should she just move, get out of town? Shut it all down? Damn, damn, damn!
She looked back at the SUV as it lurched forward and peeled rubber out of the cul-de-sac. Pam shook her head slowly as tears gathered behind her eyelids. How many people would suffer now? Gary? Rob? Linc? All her friends and clients were involved. It would all come out. Did she regret any of it? she wondered. Not really. Until now it had all been a wonderful adventure.
Who could have guessed back eighteen months ago when she got the terrible news, that she’d be here, like this now? She sighed and tried to still her pounding heart. What now? She gathered her scattered wits, turned, and headed back up the driveway. The Madam of Maple Court. Who could have guessed?
Chapter
2
A year and a half earlier
“Pam,” Mark Redmond said, “I don’t quite know how to tell you this, but I’ve gone over all the records I could find since Vin’s death and, well, there isn’t a great deal of money.” Mark had been Pam and Vin’s accountant for more than ten years. “You won’t starve, and if you live frugally you can get along okay for several years, but I had hoped for more.”
“I’m sorry, Mark,” Pam DePalma said, shaking her head slowly and tightening her stomach muscles as if to ward off a blow. “I’m having a hard time taking this in. We’re not filthy rich, but we’re pretty well off. Right?” She’d been trying to come to terms with the reality of the automobile accident that had killed her husband of twelve years on a snowy road in Westchester County, New York. It had happened two weeks before and the numbness hadn’t lessened.
She’d just turned thirty-three. Attractive. Educated. Charming. So what? What was she going to do for the rest of her life without Vin? Her life had been so tied up with his, entertaining his clients, traveling to meet with wives of business associates, attending the right clubs, losing at bridge to the right people. My God, what now? What would she do all day? His death had left a gigantic hole in her life. Vin’s business entertaining and the charity work he had insisted would improve their image had occupied so much of her time since he’d started his own firm that she had virtually no life of her