Secrets Remembered (9 page)

Aidan shrugged his jacket on before he unlocked a box on the back and took out two helmets.

“Here you go.” He fitted it over Ailsa’s head and adjusted it, before putting on one similar. “Hop on.” The gleam in his eyes told her Aidan understood she was going to show a lot more of herself than was polite in public.

She’d show him all right. Once committed, Ailsa gave her all. Well she admitted she hoped she did—she was still a bit hazy on what she was committing to and what the all was. Ailsa put her bag over her shoulder and with what she hoped was a sultry smile—although what a sultry smile was, was anyone’s idea—she hitched her skirt as high as she could without baring rather too much of her body.

She eyed the bike doubtfully. What if she kicked it and it fell over? Could she really lift her leg high enough to get it over the seat? An old cricket report where someone had tried to jump the wickets and the commentator said ‘he can’t get his leg over’ came to mind and she giggled.

“Okay, I’ll fall for it. What’s funny?” Aidan asked as he stood next to her and waited for her to do as he asked.

“Can I get my leg over?”

He laughed. “Any time, pet. Lift the skirt higher. There’s only me here to see, and I’ll get on the bike first to spare your blushes.” The words ‘this time’ were unsaid but definitely there. He did as he said, and his long, leather clad back was presented to her.

But he’ll still maybe get an eyeful when I get off. Am I ready for that?
Whether she was or not, Ailsa accepted it was going to happen. She took a deep breath, looked away from Aidan and hitched the hem even further until it was bunched around her waist.

“If I ladder these stockings, you owe me a new pair,” she said in a warning voice as she twisted to stand sideways on to the bike, measured the height and did a high kick any chorus girl would be proud of. The breeze teased her bared-to-the-world pussy. Once her leg was well clear of the bike, she slid onto the saddle.

The leather was cold on her bum, and the slight rise between her and the front half of the seat rubbed closely over her clit. Ailsa was uncomfortably aware of just how sensitive she felt. She did her best to pull her skirt lower but without much luck, so twisted her bag forward instead and rested it over her pussy.

Aidan laughed. “Spoilsport.” His voice reverberated around inside the helmet, and Ailsa realized they were wired to hear and speak to each other.

“You looked,” she said and poked him in the back. “In your mirrors.”

“Of course I did. And from now on, pet, this is our scene. Next poke gets you more than a poke back. Understand?” He didn’t wait for her answer and started the engine. “Hold on.”

The bike moved forward and as it gathered speed, Ailsa held onto Aidan around his waist. The action dragged her uncovered body closer to his leather and denim covered one, the material rubbed over her, to sting and create an arousing friction. Ailsa tightened her grip. If she fell off it wouldn’t be just her knees she skinned.

They left the courtyard and drove down the village high street. Ahead of them, Ailsa saw a police car outside the village policeman’s house. She shut her eyes, because she didn’t even want to know if it was occupied. Hopefully the helmet would hide just who was riding pillion bare-arsed.

As they left the village and the wind chilled her skin, Ailsa hoped it wouldn’t be too long until they reached their destination. A blue body and chattering teeth wasn’t the look she wanted to portray.

The bike gripped the road as Aidan expertly guided it around the bends and twists between his office and wherever they were going. Ailsa knew the roads and guessed which village they were heading toward, but from there? She had no idea and she’d valiantly not looked his address up. Now she wished she hadn’t been quite so honorable.

“Five minutes. You okay?” His voice startled her. Ailsa had forgotten the mic in her helmet.

“Yes, fine if a bit draughty.”

He chuckled. “I’ll soon have you warmed up.” His tone sounded as if it wasn’t going to be merely via a hug. Ailsa began to tingle, and she tightened her inner muscles. Getting excited on the back of a motorbike might be one way of climaxing, but she didn’t think she was ready for that, however much she’d liked reading about it. One thing at a time.

Aidan slowed the bike and turned up a driveway bordered by rhododendron bushes. “Bit bumpy here, too much rain and it’s washed the gravel into humps and lumps that I’ve not had time to smooth out. Hold on tight.” The bike lurched from one dip to the next and waves of dirty water washed out of the puddles. Ailsa was glad she wasn’t walking through them.

“What the…?” Aidan swore, as he stopped the bike next to a large four-by-four. Ailsa watched with interest as a swarthy overweight man got out of one side, and a slimmer clone from the other.

“My father and goodness knows who. It’s gonna be nasty.” Aidan got off the bike and stood between Ailsa and the men. “Can you get off and, er, adjust your skirt? Christ I’m so sorry. If I’d have known the arsehole was going to appear, I’d not have brought you.”

“Don’t worry.” Ailsa slid off the bike and pulled her skirt down in one swift movement. “And I’m glad he’s here. I’m going to put the fear of God in him.” She waited until Aidan lifted both their helmets off and ran her fingers through her hair. Luckily, as it was short and curly, she knew from experience it wouldn’t look too messy.

“Do you want me to see what’s going on, Sir?” She used the title deliberately, and some of the bleakness that had shown in Aidan’s eyes disappeared. “Or shall we give him enough rope to hang himself?”

Aidan smiled. “Oh, definitely the latter. Can we?”

“Oh, I think so. I’ll let you start, Sir.”

He winked. “Thank you for that, pet. Let’s get shot of him as soon as possible. I have a bed, a blindfold, some beautifully soft handcuffs and a nice teasing flogger with your name on waiting inside.”

For once the thought of being unsighted and bound didn’t worry her. Instead it set off ripples of arousal and tingles deep inside. Ailsa tamped down the sensations and watched as Aidan approached his father.

“Father.”

“This is Sergeant Franklin.” The older man didn’t bother with platitudes or greetings. “He wants to ask a few questions about your lifestyle. If you promise to give it up and sign this”—Murison Jefferies waved a paper in front of him—“he’ll keep you out of it. You can have your old job back then.”

Ailsa kept her face straight with difficulty. Really the man had been watching too many old ’70s cop show reruns. It was obvious Aidan thought so too, because he laughed.

“Pull the other one. He’s about as much a policeman as I am.” He turned to the slimmer man. “Show me your warrant card.”

The man jutted his chin out. “You don’t make the demands, mate.”

Ailsa decided it was time to intervene. She took three steps forward, and saw Aidan grin. “Over to you, pet,” he said under his breath. “He’s no policeman, is he?”

Ailsa shook his head. If he were, then she’d turn her warrant card in as soon as she could. He was the type who’d give the force a bad name.

“Maybe he doesn’t make the demands,
mate,
but I do.” She stood square on to the man. “Show me your warrant card.”

“Ha, some alleged Dom you are. Hiding behind a woman. Or is she the Domme, eh?” Murison Jefferies sneered the words. “Some women want a prick.”

“Well they’d get one if they were with you, wouldn’t they? And not in the ‘nice big cock and know what to do with it’ way.” Ailsa wondered where that crudity had come from. However, she didn’t give him a chance to interrupt. “Mind you, I suppose in one way I
am
in charge. I’m the policewoman.” Ailsa took her warrant card from her bag. “Inspector McLagan. I’m so pleased to meet you, Mr Jefferies. Some of my colleagues want a chat with you. And if this is Ronald Franklin, they’d like to chat to him as well.”

Chapter Nine

If looks could kill, Aidan reckoned he’d be ten feet under and someone would be praying for his soul. He’d bet his new violet wand it wouldn’t be his father. That man stared at them both and turned back to his car.

“Bollocks. I’m a legitimate businessman, and that’s all there is to it.”

“Of course you are,” Ailsa said cheerfully. “But is he?” She waved one hand at Franklin who glared, got into the vehicle beside him and folded his arms. Murison Jefferies didn’t reply to her. He turned to Aidan, his face red, and the veins on his forehead bulged.

Aidan wondered if there really was such a thing as dying by apoplexy.

“You’re screwed, just like your mother.” Murison Jefferies swung himself into the driver’s seat of the four-by-four, which swayed on its springs. Then he drove off, scattering gravel everywhere. Aidan resigned himself to a blunt lawnmower.

“Didn’t you want to question them or something?” Aidan asked as the car turned out of the drive. “Stick bamboo under their fingernails and use a violet wand somewhere it would hurt? I’ve got a new one, as of yet unused.”

“Nope, it was all bluff. Why waste a violet wand on those two? If they’re all I’ve read they are, it’s much too good to use like that. Sadly they did nothing wrong. If you notice, he didn’t say a sergeant of what, and nor did Franklin. And Franklin was a sergeant in the army years ago. Plus, all Franklin is wanted for is a parking offense. Your father is an unpleasant individual, with some serious issues about BDSM, but that’s not a crime. He’s just not someone I’d ever choose to spend time with. And I’d count my fingers after shaking hands with him. I reckon he’s very much in favor of something for nothing.”

“Yeah, you’ve sussed him out.” Aidan ran his hand over her cheek. “I’ve no idea what that cryptic comment about Mum was, but I must ask her if she knows just what he’s harping on about. As far as I know, she just left him when I did, and she’s now loving life in Lanzarote. Not now, though. Later.” He took Ailsa’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and used the same finger to lift her jaw upwards, until her head was tilted back. She smiled and lowered her eyelids, which wouldn’t be easy at the angle he had her head tilted to.

“So, pet. Are you ready to play? If we do decide we want to go further, usually play won’t start until we’re in the playroom. But today, I really want to start now. Shall we?”

Aidan took a deep breath and filled his lungs with fresh—tinged sadly with the aroma of muck-spreading—country air and waited with as much patience as he could dredge up for Ailsa to reply. The breeze touched her curls and they stretched out from her skull in a yellow, dancing halo.

“Yes, Sir.”

Her eyes glittered and her breathing was shallow and rapid. So she was interested, really interested and it hadn’t all been a lie. That thought gave him a warm, satisfied feeling. As did the fact that she trusted him enough to play there and then.

“Then play now, talk later.” He took hold of her by the hand and led her toward the door. “Once I open this, I want you to go upstairs and into the first room on the left. It has a bathroom, so use what you need, strip and greet me on your knees sat beside the bed, facing the door. You have around five minutes.” He had a thought. “Are your knees healed?”

“Oh yes, Sir.” She walked past him and very slowly with a deliberate wriggle began to climb the stairs. Aidan wolf-whistled and Ailsa looked over her shoulder at him.

“Thank you, Sir. I aim to please.” She ran her finger down between the sides of her shirt, and opened the few jacket buttons that were still fastened.

“Minx.” He watched as she took the last few stairs in the same deliberate manner, and turned through the doorway he’d indicated, before he took out his phone.

A piece of material floated down the stairwell. Aidan picked up the silky blouse and twirled it on his finger. He was going to enjoy himself. It seemed Ailsa had hidden depths she’d not allowed to show before. Well, he reasoned, it would have been difficult when she was at work and he was pushing her as hard as he could. This time he intended for them both to savor the give and take.

Almost five minutes to the second later he switched his phone to silent, and turned off the ringer on the landline. His playroom was reasonably soundproof, but he didn’t want any distractions for either of them.

As he approached the bedroom door, he wondered what he’d find. He’d made the deliberate decision to ask Ailsa to go in there and not the other room. He wanted to be with her when she saw the playroom for the first time. As playrooms went, it was mild, not much more than a spare room with a few extras, but even so in no way could it be called vanilla.

Aidan turned the handle and opened the door. The sight of Ailsa waiting for him as he’d directed stole his breath away.

In the mirror behind her he could see her skin was tanned with two pale strips across her back and her ass. The contrast made him itch to redden the paleness of her rear, and scribe his thoughts over her back. Perhaps one day he’d have the chance.

“That’s perfect, pet. What color are you?”

“Green, Sir.”

His cock hardened at those two words, and silently he unsnapped the top of his jeans and removed his shirt.

“And how do you feel about a little flogging? Just a gentle kiss of the leather on you.” He opened a cupboard by the door to the bathroom and took out a soft leather flogger that he knew would kiss the skin, sting for a second and leave any sub wondering what next. It made a nice swish as he tested the throw.

“Yellow, Sir, but only because it’s all so new.” She didn’t lift her head and mumbled in the direction of his feet.

Aidan hunkered down and tugged her hair. “Look at me, pet. You trust me, or you wouldn’t be here.” He didn’t make it a question. “You can cry red, or quack if you prefer”—he chuckled and she gave a little giggle—“at any time. It’s only going to be twenty, hardly enough to get the glow. I’d like to take you into the playroom, but I’m not going to.”

She looked up at him so fast it was a wonder he didn’t hear bones crack.

“Why not, um, Sir?”

“Because I want to redden your arse and then make love to you. If we go next door I’ll want to scribe you, and I don’t think you’re ready for that.”