Interview with a Master (3 page)

BOOK: Interview with a Master
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I nodded. “Yeah, and then she was licking my face. I didn’t know what to do. I just let her. I thought that w
ould be the end of it, but she made me stand up. ‘Show me your cock,’ she said. I got to my feet. I was hard. She stood by my side and kissed me.”

I paused, remembering that moment. It was the first time I had kissed a
real woman. I had kissed girls my own age before, but not a woman like Claire.

“Her tongue slid inside my mouth,” I said. “And it was the most
excruciatingly erotic fantasy I could have imagined. It shocked me. I felt it twisting and sliding. She sucked at my lips, teasing me and goading me so that when I felt her hand reach down and rub my cock through my jeans, I was close to erupting.”

“And that surprised you?”
Leticia mused softly.

I didn’t look at her, I was lost in the past, reliving a watershed moment from my younger life. Finally I roused myself.

“It embarrassed me, actually,” I admitted. “She slid one hand up beneath my t-shirt and raked her nails down my chest. It was like being clawed by a wild cat. I tried to flinch away, but she had unfastened my jeans and held my hardness in her other hand. Everything was happening at once. I had her tongue, sliding inside my mouth, and her fingers cutting into my chest. And then I had her hand wrapped around my cock, stroking me. My senses were reeling.”

Leticia
moved, stretched her back, then uncrossed and re-crossed her legs again. She leaned forward, staring at me intently, seeming to hang on every word, the notebook on her lap and the pen in her hand forgotten.

“She peeled my t-shirt off and licked the blood from the scratches,” I explained. “Then she took me in her hands and stroked me. God, I was so hard. I was trembling. I felt my legs shaking
, and all the while she was standing next to me, snarling at me and telling me how evil I was to spy on her and how I should be punished. She kept telling me she would tell my father everything if I didn’t obey her. Then she told me to come. And I did. Everywhere. It splashed over the bed and then my knees turned to jelly and everything in the room started spinning.”

I felt suddenly
drained. The re-telling of that first time with Claire so long ago had left me weary. My throat was scratchy. I turned to the empty chair closest to the fireplace, sank down into it, and stared into the flames.

“It’s late,” I s
ighed. “That will do for tonight. I’ve told you everything about that first encounter, and I’ve been honest. We’ll continue another night if you would like to hear more.”

There was a long silence. When I turned around,
Leticia was standing by the sofa with her handbag slung over her shoulder. “Tomorrow night? Are you free?”

I nodded. “Tomorrow night. At your place.”

She hesitated and I saw the conflict play across her face and in her eyes.

“All right…” she said
with slow caution, perhaps sensing that I was testing her. “I’ll give you the address.” She dug into her handbag again. I reached for her wrist to stop her. Her skin was warm and soft, her fingers long and delicate; the fingers of a piano player or an artist.


I know where you live, Leticia. I’ve had one of my people find that information out long before you came here today.”

Leticia
froze, like maybe she couldn’t make up her mind whether to be outraged or impressed with my attention to such detail. She looked up into my face with a silent speculation in her eyes. In the end, she merely nodded.

“Seven o’clock?”

She thought for just a second. “I have an interview with a tugboat skipper tomorrow. I won’t be home until six at least. If you are expecting to be fed for your story, we will have to make it eight. I’m a slow cooker, and not a very good one.”

“Let’s make it seven,” I said. “I’ll take care of the catering arrangements.”

She raised an eyebrow, and then smiled. “Seven it is.” When she smiled, her whole face lit up. Her features smoothed out and she seemed to glow with health and vital energy. I liked her smile a lot.

I led her to the front door and in the foyer she turned quickly back to face me. She was blushing and she lowered her eyes and then lifted her face to mine.

“You were wondering about something earlier tonight, Mr. Noble. The answer is, ‘Yes. Every day’.”

She spun away, danced
lightly down the steps, her handbag bobbing against her side. I watched her all the way to her car and then closed the front door quietly.

‘Yes’ and ‘Every day’?

I frowned, stared off into space for a moment
, and then suddenly smiled.

Lingerie!

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Will you be back late?”
Trigg asked me.

“I don’t know,” I said. I lathered my
jaw and glanced at myself in the bathroom mirror. The face reflected back at me was tanned, with dark hair that curled at the collar of my shirt. Hazel eyes and a mouth that was unaccustomed to smiling.

“Will you be contactable?”

I shook my head, tilted my face to one side and drew the razor down my cheek, leaving the skin smooth and brown. For a long moment the only sound in the room was the scrape of razor against stubble. Trigg glanced at me in the mirror and I caught her sulking expression in the reflection.

I said nothing more. Finally she left the room, taking crisp business-like steps, seeming to bristle with silent tension.

I smiled.

 

 

* * *

 

 

I turned my wrist to catch the light and checked my watch. It was 5:30 pm. The car was just pulling into the curb in front of the apartment complex. I leaned forward and gave my driver a tap on the shoulder.

“Good timing, Tiny,” I said. He flashed a huge white smile at me in the rear-vision mirror.
He was a big man with massively muscled arms. “Finalize the dinner arrangements for seven – exactly as I planned, okay?”

He nodded. “You got it,
Mr. Noble.”

The doorman outside the apartment building crossed the pavement to open my door.

“Good evening, Mr. Noble,” the elderly man bobbed his head, his tone polite and respectful. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Hello, Hector. How have things been?”

“Quiet, sir,” he smiled. “Just the way I like them.”

Hector led the way into the lobby
at a dignified pace, and a security guard was there to meet me. He was wearing a tan uniform shirt and black pants. He waited for me with legs braced, thumbs tucked in behind the thick leather band of his belt.

“Good afternoon,
Mr. Noble.”

I nodded. “Has she
arrived home yet?”

“No sir.”

“Very good.”

We rode up in the elevator to the third floor and I followed the guard along
a tastefully decorated passageway. There were framed prints on the walls, and discreet lighting built into the ceiling. The carpeting was thick: not luxurious, but not cheap either. The guard stopped outside apartment number 312 and unhooked a large brass ring from his belt, thick with clusters of jangling keys in every size and shape. He thumbed through the keys until he had the right one, opened the door for me, and then stepped aside.

I
paused in the darkened apartment doorway for a moment, and then turned back to him. “You have my cell number?”

“Yes sir.”

“Call me when she arrives downstairs.”

“Yes sir.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Leticia
Fall’s apartment was gloomy. The last of the sun’s rays had disappeared behind the distant hills, leaving the world in twilight.

I went into her living room and saw two straight-backed chairs nested around a small table. I carried one of the chairs through to the bedroom.

The drapes were open, the room filled with eerie half-light. Her bedroom smelled of incense and lavender. Just inside the door was a wide built-in closet, and across the room was a double bed with a small chest of drawers beside the headboard. I set the chair in front of the chest of drawers, facing the open bedroom door, and sat down.

I didn’t think I would have long to wait.

My cell phone rang a few minutes later. It was the security guard’s voice. He was whispering, as though he was part of some covert secret mission. I smiled. I should have given him a code name like Red Fox or White Eagle. I thanked him and hung up. Moments later I heard the front door of the apartment open, and then slam closed.

I heard
Leticia come down the hallway in a flurry of muttered oaths and muffled sounds like a mini whirlwind. Something bumped against a wall – I think she was kicking off her shoes – and then she gasped. “Damn it!”

She
burst into the bedroom and flung the sliding door of the closet wide open.

I sat silently.

Leticia hunted through the long rack of clothes. She swung her head from side to side, setting the blonde cascade of her hair swaying, and then tugged at the buttons of her blouse. She had her back to me. The soft silk slid down over her shoulders and I could see the lustrous skin of her back and the stark white straps of her bra.

She reached behind her and the sound of
a zipper being drawn down was surprising loud in the silence. She squirmed and wiggled her hips like a dancer, and the skirt she had been wearing slid down around her ankles.

She stood on her tiptoes, staring into the dark recesses of her
closet. I could see the firm toned planes of her narrow waist, the womanly swell of her hips, and the clench of her bottom. I could see the outline of her long sculpted legs and the tantalizing lace pattern of sheer white panties.

“Good evening,” I said.

Leticia yelped and spun round, wide eyed with shock and fear. Instinctively her hands flew to cover herself. She cringed in the half-light, hunting the shadows wildly until she saw the silhouette of me sitting by the window at last.

“Who the fuck
–?”

“It’s me,” I said calmly. “It’s Jonah Noble. There’s no need to be alarmed.”

“No need to –?” Fear transformed into outrage, her mood changing in an instant, bursting like a summer storm. “You broke into my apartment?” The tone of her voice was appalled.

I was sitting with my legs crossed, perfectly relaxed, with my hands
resting casually on the armrests. I didn’t move.

“No,” I said. “The security guard let me in.”

“What?” she was incredulous and disbelieving. “He let you in?”

“That’s right.”

“You… you… bribed the man?”

“No,” I
smiled lazily. “I own the building.”

She shook her head and then
scraped her fingers through her hair. She was trembling with the after-effects of her fright, and her breathing was ragged. She started to say something else, then realized she was standing half-naked in front of me, wearing nothing more than a lace bra and a skimpy sheer pair of panties.

She snatched at a robe hanging behind the
bedroom door and wrapped herself in it.

“You aren’t going to hurt me,
are you?” Her voice dropped and became suddenly tentative. Her breathing was short and quick as if she had run up a flight of stairs.

I smiled wolfishly. “Not unless you would like me to.”

She gasped. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s just a BDSM joke,” I shrugged offhandedly. “That’s all. You are perfectly safe, I assure you.”

Leticia huffed and her expression became incredulous once more. “Relax? Are you for real? You broke into my apartment.”

“I own the apartment,” I corrected her. “This is just a routine inspection.”

“Inspection? You son of a bitch. I’m standing here half naked!”

“Yes,” I said admiringly. “But only half naked. I could have waited
…”

I came up out of the chair slowly. Crossed the room.
Leticia edged away like a timid forest animal. I held out my hands and kept my voice gentle and soothing.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” I said. “But I wanted proof that you we
re being as truthful with me as I have been with you.”

Leticia
’s breath quickened as I drew nearer. I stopped when we were only inches apart – so close I could almost hear her heart thumping within the cage of her chest and sense the ripples trembling throughout her body. The space between us seemed to tingle with electricity. It was dark outside now. Leticia’s face was turned up to mine, her lips slightly parted, glistening soft and moist.

She
swallowed hard. Her eyes searched mine.

“Proof?”

I nodded. “The lingerie.” I reached down and touched the lace cup of her bra with the tip of my finger. “If you had undressed and were wearing cotton hipsters, I would know you had lied to me as you were leaving my house last night. You said you wore lingerie every day.”

BOOK: Interview with a Master
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