Read Twisted Love and Money Online
Authors: Thomas Kennedy
Tags: #business, #domination, #alcoholic, #irish fiction, #irish gay, #irish romance, #romance adult
He heard her
before he saw her. Dorothy was in full riding gear and two large
dogs were preceding her horse. David tensed and sat still.
The dogs
sniffed him out and came with tails wagging. The horse shifted
uneasily but held her ground, as she knew the dogs. The dogs sat
and waited for Dorothy to arrive.
Shock
registered in her face when she saw David, but she recovered
quickly.
“David, fancy
meeting you here. I did not know you rode. Is Jeremy with you?”
“Back at the
house.”
“You found a
good shelter here. I was cutting around to avoid the rain
myself.”
She stopped and
stood her horse beside his. Both looked out at the rain.
“Should we make
a gallop for it?” she offered.
“No, it’s too
wet. Let’s wait, its bound to ease off. And I wanted to talk to you
without Jeremy. Our last exchange at the party was a bit terse.
Parties are not a good place for a serious discussion.”
They sat in
silence.
“Do you love
him?” David asked.
“Yes,” Dorothy
said with an honest smile. “I really do. I surprises me, but I
do.”
“Me too,” David
said, a little glumly
Feeling
confident Dorothy reached over and put her hand on David’s.
“Let’s be
friends,” she offered.
“Why do you
whip him?” David asked, pulling his hand away.
“I don’t, at
least not too hard. He likes it. I like to be dominant. It's
something between us. No big deal.”
Dorothy
shrugged uncomfortably. She did not like discussing her sex life
with a strange man.
“I like to be
strong too,” David said.
He reached out
and took Dorothy by the back of her neck. The dogs looked up but
did not seem to notice anything amiss.
Dorothy
stiffened but said nothing. She felt his grip like a vice and was
afraid to move in case he broke her neck.
David leaned
over and put his hand on Dorothy’s cheek. He drew her face towards
him. She looked into warm blue eyes and the way he was looking at
her disturbed her and her lips parted, sensuously.
He kissed her
long and hard. The horses rustle and straps creaked. Dorothy felt
warmth between her thighs and her breasts straining against her
blouse as she absorbed the passion of him and the strength of his
embrace. Finally he set her free.
“Bastard!” she
hissed, raising her whip.
“Touch me with
that and I’ll kill you here,” David said coldly.
Nervously
Dorothy lowered her arm.
“I think I'll
go back,” she said.
“Just a
minute,” David replied.
Swiftly,
expertly he swung off his horse and on to hers. He dropped the
reins of his horse and she stood still.
David lifted
Dorothy from sidesaddle to forward, standing on her spurs.
Nervously the horse stood stationery. One of the dogs barked but
Dorothy ignored him. She felt strangely excited. David was so
strong. He pulled her riding jodhpurs and they came down to her
knees with her pants.
“Please!”
Dorothy said, alarmed and embarrassed.
“Ride facing
front. I'm on the saddle and you sit forward front saddle. Ride
slowly around the tree,” he instructed.
“Yup,” he said
to the horse.
The horse began
to canter forward and they rocked in unison.
“Where are we
going?” Dorothy asked nervously.
She was shaking
with excitement and a tremble came through her voice.
“I said you
steer, just make sure we stay in the woods.”
David sounded
calm.
With the rhythm
of the horse they moved against each other. The horse slowed to a
walk. Dorothy could feel the rain on her bare behind, his hands
manipulating her balance, smell the wet trees and grass and feel
the strength and power of David. Her climax came slow and warm and
her legs trembled as she tried to keep her balance.
Then he took
her back to his horse. Nothing was said between them.
As David
expertly swung back onto his horse he took his crop from the saddle
where he had left it and brought down hard on Dorothy's bare
backside. “For Jeremy!” he shouted.
Dorothy
screamed in pain, the dogs came alert and growled and the horse
reared. David’s horse whirled but he brought it under control.
Dorothy was unbalanced and fell off her horse as it reared. Her
horse bolted for the stables.
With a wry grin
David leaned down to her and offered a hand.
“Friends?” he
offered.
“I hope you
don't treat all your friends so roughly,” she retorted.
He smiled and
nodded ‘no’ with his head. She took his hand. He leaned forward as
she stood and kissed her hand.
“You better
pull up your pants,” he said solemnly.
Dorothy knew
this was a rite of passage. David was going to accept her. When
Dorothy had fixed her clothes they rode back to the stables
together. Little was said but somehow they had an
understanding.
Jeremy was
delighted to see them. The stable boy was still trying to catch
Dorothy's horse.
Jeremy had got
a terrible fright when the horse turned up without its rider. He
had only relaxed when he saw the two emerge from the same direction
astride the one horse. It pleased him that they seemed easy with
each other.
“What
happened?” he asked anxiously
“Relax Jeremy,”
Dorothy said, “My horse just bolted when we were sheltering.”
David felt
relaxed. If Jeremy was going to breed the bitch he might see if he
could make sure one of the pups was his. Or at least might be.
Jeremy looked
at David. You bastard, he thought, not unkindly, you have been up
to something. Then he shrugged; it was good to see him pleased.
Better than his
recent sullen demeanour. Clearly there had been a breakthrough
between him and Dorothy.
“Come on!”
Jeremy said. “Back to the house and dry off. Can't have anything
happening to my two favourite people.”
They laughed
and helped the stable boy to calm Dorothy's horse.
Dorothy’s
excitement had turned into a black knot of worry.
But still her
senses burned.
She looked at
the two men stroking her horse. She decided she would have to tell
Jeremy what had happened in the woods. But not yet, but she would
in time as Jeremy deserved her trust. Maybe not the whole story,
she’d see and judge from how he reacted.
But Dorothy had
just realised something. First, that although Jeremy and David both
loved each other, Jeremy still wanted her, and second she now
realised that the connection of between Jeremy and David ran very
deep indeed.
Dorothy felt
herself tremble inside. David was so handsome and Jeremy so clever.
A ‘ménage au tois’ for her to handle. What a challenge. Being
married to Jeremy would never have a dull moment.
And they were
both sophisticated people. All she had to do was to arrive at an
understanding of her role. Then over time she’d see who would be
dominant. Her money would be on Jeremy and she knew Jeremy needed
her. She would talk to Jeremy and work it out.
Then laughing
they ran back to the house holding hands as they ran followed by
the barking dogs.
Dorothy was in
the middle, and Jeremy was thinking happily, ‘maybe I'll be able to
keep them both.’
Chapter
forty-three
As Jeremy and
David and Dorothy rounded the driveway they stopped and began to
walk in a more sober manner, the reason being that two cars were
pulling up in front of the house.
“The people
getting out of the first car are Janet Simmons and Leo Crawford,”
Dorothy explained as they slowed down to let the guests get into
the house before they arrived at the top of the driveway.
“Any the other
man in the second car?” Jeremy asked
“Kenny the Bank
Examiner, I understand he is leading a consortium to make a counter
bid. He is a senior partner in one of the big accounting
practices.”
Peter and his
father came out of the house and greeted their guests in turn.
Michael took
Crawford and Kenny off to meet Colm O’Donoghue.
Peter fussed
about and grabbed the opportunity to talk to Janet.
“I’ve told my
parents about our engagement.”
Janet smiled. She wanted to ask him why he’d been so hard to
contact, but decided to leave it until later.
“You look
great,” Peter added, eyes melting.
“Don’t be mushy
Peter, there is some business to do. We can announce our engagement
after today.”
They stole a
kiss. Down the driveway, unnoticed, Dorothy told David and Jeremy
that the young lady was to be Peter’s wife.
“Very pretty
too,” David remarked, “pity she’s not a model. We could use someone
that good looking.”
Peter ushered
Janet into the house. He wanted to introduce her to his mother
before the talks with AF got under way.
“My Dad,
Dorothy and me will need about a half hour to set up the meeting.
We have two bidders, AF and a Consortium. I have no doubt AF will
see them off,” Peter explained to Janet as they entered the
hall.
“Peter, I want
you to do what I am going to ask you to do,” Janet said.
“What?” Peter
was puzzled.
“Crawford is
having second thoughts.”
“Second
thoughts…” Peter almost shouted in anxiety.
“Yes he will go
up ten percent on the bid but no further. He has set a limit. I
have spoken to him and he is happy that if the consortium goes
higher you accept the bid. Don’t worry about your previous
conversations with him.”
“I thought we
had an arrangement?”
“Trust me
Peter, we have another arrangement. Go with the flow and help your
Dad get the best price.”
“If you say so
Janet. Do you still love me?”
“Forever
Peter.”
“Come and meet
my mother.”
Michael
introduced Crawford and Simmons to Kenny and O’Donoghue and offered
them drinks. Peter and Janet joined them and then Dorothy. After
the formal introductions, Michael explained his proposal for the
bidding process.
They were all
agreeable and Michael set a time for meeting in one hour. Then he
would consider offers, assisted by Peter and Dorothy.
He suggested
that the parties went to their rooms and freshened up and also
reminded them that he had guests coming to the party that night,
but this would not stand in the way of negotiations if that was
necessary.
The group was
agreeable and Janet and the men departed for their rooms. They
would settled in and then reassemble for the meetings to follow.
Peter and Doherty stayed behind with Michael to agree roles in the
coming negotiations.
Colm O’Donoghue
was in a contemplative mood. The exchange with O’Byrne was
friendly, he decided. Kenny had given him a range for the
Consortium of up to seventy million, based on a combination of cash
plus share combinations, which John O’Malley had worked up
initially, and Kenny and the merger team had refined. The
discussions had left Colm with the discretion up to the maximum,
and Kenny would advise.
Colm tried a
couple of doors. Michael had directed him to the East wing of the
house.
“Come in
darling,” David said.
Colm grinned,
embarrassed, he had blundered into the wrong room.
“Excuse me,” he
said and backed out.
The next door
led to Seamus. Colm breathed a sigh of relief.
“You are two
doors down Granddad, the next after the bathroom, I think we share
it from either side.”
“Thanks,” Colm
said and went to change.
Downstairs the
Caterers were in and the O’Byrne kitchen was in pandemonium.
Cook was up to
ninety getting the dinner party organized alongside the
professional caterers. Ann-Marie was sitting at the centre table in
the kitchen complaining loudly about having to stay in and
entertain dreary guests. Dwyer sat beside the cooker, observing the
ordered chaos.
Nobody had the
time to sit and listen. However Sheila, one of the parlour maids,
who had been drafted in to help prepare the desert, was busily
whipping some eggs and she talked to Ann-Marie and Dwyer as she
worked.
“Begging your
pardon Mr. Dwyer,” she said chattily, taking in Dwyer who was
peeling potatoes in front of the cooker, “but the young man who
came today in your Rolls was far from dreary, dishy I’d say.”
Dwyer, who had
ingratiated himself with the cook by offering to peel the potatoes,
kept peeling and just grunted without looking up.
“They are all
boring,” Ann-Marie insisted.
She put the tip
of her finger into a bowl the cook was mixing. Cook hit her on the
finger with the wooden spoon.
“Get out of
here, useless girl,” she said snappily, but her eyes smiled
pleasurably, for she was very fond of Ann-Marie.
“I said I’d get
the chambermaid to turn down his bed,” Sheila continued with a
cheeky grin. “The young man blushed, would you credit that,” she
laughed.
“The chamber
maid is getting the cigars and port out of the store,” Cook
reminded her, cross and busy.
“We should have
a butler,” Sheila pouted, knowing this would draw in Dwyer who had
told her that he was the O’Donoghue butler.
“Nonsense, who
needs a butler?” Cook protested.
“I’m a butler,”
Dwyer claimed.
Cook smiled at
him. She had designs on Dwyer for later. He was a fine figure of a
man for his years with a good lively eye. “Mr. Dwyer, you are the
sort of man I’d have for a butler. But not one of those toffee nose
types.”