Mastering the Virgin Box Set Five: A BDSM Ménage Erotic Romance

Chapter 73

“It was definitely you.” Natalie leans in close over the table. “Why would the police be looking for you?

You’re not the type to be getting into trouble. And I asked around a bit too. The other girls. I’m not the

only one he’s shown that photo to. He’s been working through the streets asking.”

Natalie eyes her room-mate. “Hey, you okay? You’ve turned a bit pale.”

Jenny sits cross-legged on her narrow bed surrounded by brochures and pamphlets….

…. Come to Canada….

…. A new life in Australia….

…. But battered, curled at the corners and well-thumbed, at the top of the heap of brochures is a

prospectus for the University.

Jenny rises, staring, pacing the room as she chews at her fist, fighting down the trembling and the

nausea.

“Hey, Jenny. Don’t worry. D’you think I’d drop you in it? I sent him to the other end of town to check out

the fancy shops.”

Still, Jenny shakes, her voice quavering. “They’re still looking for me. I thought they would have

stopped by now.”

She totters and Natalie lurches forward, catching her. “Hey, c’mon. Sit down. Breathe. That’s it. Go

on… Breathe…. Whatever it is….”

Jenny’s voice is panicked. “He might find me, working in the cafe. He could come into the cafe and see

me.”

Natalie wraps an arm around her shoulder, frowning. “What d’they want you for Jenny? How bad can it

be? They pick me up. Roll me over for a fine. I’m back out again an hour later. You’re not the type to

have done anything….” She meets Jenny’s eyes; Jenny’s terrified eyes. “Hey, you really are scared

aren’t you….”

“They mustn’t find me. I mustn’t let them find me. They’ll lock me in the dark again.”

“Hey, it’s not like that. I mean, it’s no barrel of laughs, but no-one locks you in the dark. “Natalie surveys

her stricken room-mate then jabs a finger at her. “Stay there. Stay right there.”

She stands, fetches a bottle of wine from the tiny fridge. “I was saving this for if I ever managed to get

Carlo in here….” She flashes wicked brows. “…. but I reckon you could use it right now.” She pours two

glasses, pressing one into Jenny’s hands, then tilts it up to her mouth. “C’mon. Drink some. It’ll calm

you down.”

Natalie gets a glass of wine down Jenny, then pours her another. She only sips at her own. “So how

come he said you might be called Conners or Bennett? You got a husband out there?”

Calmer now, Jenny also sips at her glass, but her voice is subdued. “Not now. Not anymore.”

“You hiding from him? He beat up on you or something? Dope? Booze?”

“No, nothing like that.” She gulps a mouthful. “He doesn't like women, not like that anyway”

Natalie gapes. “No shit? So, he what? Didn't want to do the dirty with you?”

Jenny flushes, looks away, the shame, the humiliation flooding with the memory. “No.”

“You’re telling me you never....”

“No.”

“Not ever? Your wedding night?”

Jenny’s voice is a whisper. “That’s when he told me.”

Natalie absorbs this, thinking it through. “So, you and he, never…. You never… You've never like….

done it? At all? You're a virgin?””

“Yes.”

“You’re serious? Really?”

“Don't you believe me?”

“Actually, I do. But I'm flabbergasted. Can't remember the last time I met a virgin. They’re in kinda short

supply around here.”

Jenny shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. It’s past now. I can’t let them find me.”

“What do you think you’re going to do? Spend your whole life on the move?”

“If I have to.”

*****

James

I sit on a chair on the terrace overlooking the beach, my laptop to one side. The sky is melting into a

soft pink and opal evening and a blanket covers my legs against the cooling air.

There is the sound of a car engine and the crunch of gravel. After a couple of minutes, Michael

appears. He pulls up a chair. “You look comfortable. How are you doing?”

“Oh, better now just being out of the hospital. Charlotte set me up here.”

“Yeah, it's soul food this place isn't it.” He glances around. “Where is she?”

I told her to go get her head down for an hour. She's been running around after me all day.

“Trying to be a good sub?” His eyes twinkle.

I twinkle back. “I'd say so, yes.”

“I'd enjoy that while it lasts if I were you.”

“Yes, I'm sure the facade will crack at some point.”

Michael’s smile is breaking free. “How long do you give it?”

I scratch an ear. “Oh, a few days, before the strain’s too much. Let’s face it. She’s not got a sub bone in

her body. But I’ll admit I find it sweet that she wants to try.”

“Mmm….” He pulls a face. “Let's hope it's not too spectacular when the elastic snaps.”

I huff. “I think we have to live with it. There's no point buying apples then complaining you don't have

bananas.”

“Ain't that the truth.…” He scuffs at some sand on the tiles. “What do you think might trigger it?”

“She's going to want to go back to her university….”

Michael hisses between his teeth. “Sheesh…. I'm not happy about that idea. I'd like to keep her closer

to home, all things considered.”

“So would I. Bear with me. I may be able to do something about it.” Then, glancing down at the laptop.

“I keep pretending to do some work but really I'm just staring at the sea.”

He looks at me longwise. “Something bothering you?”

I stare up to where thin waves of cloud shimmer copper and mauve around the setting sun. The sea

below ripples gold and bronze. “You never told me I'd died.”

He gives me a sharp look. “Who…?”

“Richard told me….”

He nods, sucking his teeth. “Ah…”

“Why didn’t you?”

Michael stands, pacing around the terrace. “Mmmm, I wasn't sure you would be any better for the

knowledge.” He leans on the balustrade, staring out to the horizon. “Fancy a drink?”

“Why not?”

He vanishes into the house, reappearing a minute or so later with a couple of brandies. As I take mine,

I realise that I don’t really want it, but I sip it for good manners’ sake. And we sit in companionable

silence, watching the sun go down, huge as it kisses the horizon.

After a while Michael says, “Ever had sex on the beach?”

I sip the brandy again, trying to divine the meaning, and the point, behind the question. “The drink or

the activity?”

He shrugs. “Both I suppose.”

“I was never a fan of cocktails, and as for the other, all that sand getting everywhere....”

He muses. “Mmmm, I always thought that too…. Had it on the promenade once though. I had her up

against the back wall of the games arcade. I was seventeen and we got caught by a copper and my

Dad knocked the living daylights out of me when he found out.”

Smiling despite myself, “Why? Please don’t tell me you deflowered the vicar’s daughter?”

“No.” He stares at his drink, then slides eyes my way. “It was mainly because when the copper asked

me who I was, I didn’t want to say. I gave my Dad’s name instead. So, when the police turned up at the

house asking for him….”

I crack up into gales of helpless laughter. Waving a hand at him, “Remember that story when you have

a seventeen-year-old son of your own.”

Michael turns pensive. “Think that'll ever happen?”

“Oh, I think so. One boy, one girl, one dark, one blond. That’s what she said.”

His head swivels. “When was that?”

“When the two of you weren't talking to each other properly.”

“Ahhh….” His face falls.

Despite his change in mood, I’m still chuckling. After a minute he says, “It’s about time we got a good

laugh out of you.”

And now, I sober up. “Yes, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a miserable bastard the last few weeks.”

“You’ve got to take your time. Just take it easy….” He eyes me. “What exactly is bothering you? It’s

more than boredom.”

Oh, Christ….

“What if I can’t?”

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t…. Ah, fuck….” I can’t bring myself to say it.

Michael hesitates, seemingly choosing his words. “You’ve been shot, you’re healing and now you’re

worrying about whether you can get it up? Whether you will be able to? Is that it? Or that you need a

helping hand right now?”

My good mood evaporating again, depression presses inwards. “Michael, what if I can’t? What if….

Charlotte….”

“What if what? You think you’d lose her?” He snorts. “You’re talking rubbish. She worships the ground

you walk on. And the reason you were injured in the first place is that you were saving her.”

“I don't want her staying with me because she feels obligated”

He jolts back, face tightening. “I've never heard anything so stupid. You’re only half-healed and your

brain’s writing checks your body can't cash yet.” He turns square-on to me, his eyes intense. “She

stays with you James, because she loves you. Always has. Always will. And if you can’t recognise that,

it’s your head you need to worry about, not your cock.”

Then, his face suddenly sunny again, he punches me on the shoulder. “Stop worrying. That’s far more

likely to give you problems than anything else. The rest of it is just time and rest.”

He’s right of course….

…. And I don’t want to talk about this anymore….

“How's the work coming on now? Back at the house?” Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

“Pretty well. The electric’s in. Plumbing’s in place. The roof is sound. And Ben’s giving me some of his

time to help next week clearing that mess of a back garden.”

My voice dry. “That must be fun.” Michael’s prickly brother is not my first choice of company. He was

unimpressed to learn that there is to be a ‘lodger’ in the house with Michael and Charlotte and takes

every opportunity to remind me that the ‘young couple’ should have privacy.

“Don’t knock it,” says Michael. “His help is very welcome. The house’ll be properly habitable fairly

soon.” He scratches at his scalp with a sound like sandpaper. “I’ve got to say though, that contractor

Richard recommended is turning out to be pure gold. He clears the most incredible amount of work for

what he’s charging.”

I keep my voice bland. “s’ that right?”

Memo to self: get McGrady’s invoices to me well out of sight….

Michael continues blithely on, “…. Still, since Richard is happy for us to use this place, you’re a lot

better off staying here than up the mountain.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

*****