MASTERED: (The Novel) (18 page)

It wasn't hers to do with as she
pleased.
It was his!
Taking
it off without his knowledge or permission was in itself insupportable. That
she flung it carelessly to the floor served only to accentuate the insult. It
was that action specifically that had sealed both their fates.

His thoughts were quite literally
shattered by his personal trainer's piercing voice. “How 'bout y'all come down
now an' do a few push-ups with me, Mr. Cole-
tun
?”

James figured that Jenny must have
been more than a little surprised when he called to set up this training
session. The first time they worked together was about three years ago, just
after Angeline's death. While she came highly recommended, he abruptly canceled
the balance of ten non-refundable sessions after just four.

Jenny, having no idea of the black
hole in which he existed at the time, made it blatantly clear that she was
interested in pumping more than just his biceps. He was in a bad way then, and
wasn't one to share his feelings.

Today, he was burdened with no such
qualms. When at last he dismounted the smoking elliptical, James mounted an
even hotter Jenny. When one’s personal trainer recommended a few push-ups, one
did not dispute her professional advice. However, instead of performing the
muscle-building callisthenic beside her, he chose to execute them
atop
of her!

One thing Jenny Dean wasn't was shy.
She began to wriggle, jiggle, and giggle her carnal objective the moment the
door swung open in greeting. Every honey-dipped word was sugar-coated with
sexual innuendo.

Always the self-sacrificing host,
James merely aimed to please. Not surprisingly, his aim was right on target.
Jenny’s acquiescence consisted of a single, skull-splitting squeal. He wasted
little time on formalities.

 
Positioning her on all fours, he didn't bother
to take down the tiny micro-shorts. Yanking the cooperative material aside he
tested the waters, only to find them warm and at high tide.

Clamping one hand over Jenny’s
shrieking mouth, James dove right in!

Chapter 59

Missy came fully awake with a jolt
and an objective. Her mind felt well-rested and sharp for the first time in
what seemed an eternity.

Today, she was going to find out
exactly who the woman was. No matter that she hadn't seen nor heard from James
in over a month. The not knowing was tormenting her nights and haunting her days.

 
It wasn’t only morbid curiosity that was
motivating her, however. She always trusted her gut and more often than not;
went with her intuition. In truth, she credited it with saving her life, more
than once.

Yet, it was this same sixth sense
which had screamed out for her to believe in James.
To trust
him without reservation.
Missy
needed to understand if she was ever
to have faith in herself again.

The events of that day devastated
her to the point of leaving protective gaps in her memory. As time passed, the
gaps slowly closed. Today, she was jarred awake when one virtually snapped
shut.

It WAS Stephanie in that picture!

Stephanie would know who the girl
was, and Missy meant to find out. She brewed fresh coffee, forcing herself to
ingest calories in the form of a blueberry muffin smothered in butter. She was
infused with energy and direction, both in short supply lately. There was a
mission to accomplish. Missy aimed to do just that.

While speaking with Stephanie was
paramount, it was not the singular purpose for visiting the boutique. Also on
the agenda was talking to Teresa about getting her old job back.

The twenty-five thousand dollar
check that James had written to Christopher was a godsend. Half a year’s worth
of wages; with only a few casual swirls of his fountain pen. Still, with her
not working and Christopher heading off to college, i
t would hardly last forever.

By the time Missy arrived at the
boutique it was half past ten, and the place was hopping. Steph, Teresa, and
Carla, a part-time employee, were all occupied with at least one customer
apiece. The regal door chimes heralded her arrival. The two beleaguered
employees and their boss glanced up simultaneously.

As their respective customers were
complimented, coddled, and escorted out, the girls excitedly welcomed Missy
with warm hugs and kiss-kisses on both cheeks. Teresa was first to speak, still
holding both of Missy's hands in hers. “Missy, darling, you've lost weight. You
look simply
mah-velous
!”

In truth, Missy looked the furthest thing
from ‘
mah-velous
’
.
Her complexion was pale and her cheeks were hollowed, in
direct contrast to her clothing which bagged on her shrinking frame.
Recalling that Teresa adhered
strictly to the old adage that ‘one can never be too rich or too thin’, she
smiled brightly and thanked her ex-boss for the sweet compliment.

It was Teresa's next words which
caused any remaining color to drain completely from Missy's face. “So, tell us,
dear heart, how
are
you and
that sexy man of yours?”

Chapter
60

“Little
one?”

Missy knew who it was before the
familiar endearment was so much as uttered. She knew before her five tactile
senses could begin to correlate and assess the data. She felt this man in the
very core of her soul.

She realized then and there that her
most dedicated attempt to extricate him was in vain. He consumed her. There
could be no further denial, no further justification. Resistance was, and had
always been - futile.

Master…

As was usual in his presence,
everything else fell away as trivial and irrelevant. All that remained were the
two of them. Man and woman, Yin and Yang - Master and adoring whore.

With Teresa's blessing, Stephanie
was taking an early and extended lunch break. Leaving Missy's jalopy in the
staff lot, they hopped into Steph's silver Lexus hybrid. They decided to head
over to the nearby shopping center and grab a bite to eat.

Chitting
and chatting with their heads close
together, they meandered down the mall in the direction of the food court.
Oblivious to their surroundings, they were forced to a jarring halt when Missy
collided with something solid and unyielding.

Solid, unyielding; with just a hint
of distinctive cologne and designer cigar.
Missy knew instantly and instinctively.

His hands still gripped her arms
where they had steadied her upon impact. The heat created permeated her
clothing, warmed her body and seared her heart. She couldn’t have said whether
she wanted him to leave them there forever - or remove them at once!

She also couldn't determine whether
the erratic heartbeat pounding in her ears was hers, his -
or theirs!
It took
every ounce of constraint she could muster to not reach out and simply touch
him.

“You look thin, pet.” His soothing,
hypnotic voice washed over and through her. His eyes pierced to the heart of her.
There was no question. She
was
his 'pet'. Missy was exactly where she was born to be: n
ear him.

With a mouth as dry as sandpaper and
a tongue that felt cumbersome and foreign, she somehow managed a response. “As
do you, sir.”

It was true. Her heart broke as she
took in his leaner physique. She suppressed a bizarre desire to lick at the
dark smudges beneath his eyes. In her blind adoration, Missy was sure she could
eradicate them.

Too soon, his hands fell away from
her shoulders and the spell was abruptly broken. He turned the full brunt of
his attention, which was formidable, on Stephanie. Bending at the waist to
gallantly kiss the back of her hand, he asked after his old friend George.

James listened politely as the
almost sixty-year-old woman gulped and giggled her way through a blushing
response. He then quickly bid them adieu, citing a meeting he was already late
for.

With only a cursory nod in Missy’s
direction, he turned and disappeared into the crowd. She was positive somebody
had just punched a hole in her heart.

She could actually feel the air
escaping her body…

Chapter 61

With a bag of
Cheezies
and wine glass in one hand, an uncorked bottle in the other; Missy collapsed
into the cushions of her well-worn sofa. Determined to focus on sweet
nothingness, she switched on the television and turned up the volume.
Hopefully, the white noise would rise above the turmoil that was clamoring for
attention in her skull.

Drained and disheartened from an
overwhelming day, she tore into the bag of chips and poured herself a glass of
wine. Throwing etiquette to the wind, she filled the glass nearly to
over-flowing. With the utmost of caution, she raised it to her lips. Without
spilling a single drop, Missy noisily slurped off enough to lower the contents
to a more
manageable
level.

And then, she filled it again.

Cheezies
, Anderson Cooper, and vino for
din-din?
She figured a girl could do worse.
Giggling at her own hilarity, she was already well on the way to tipsy.

Not a difficult sojourn, considering
the only thing in her stomach was knots and bile. It had been impossible to
maintain any appetite for lunch. It was lost the moment she ran into James,
along with her breath and all good sense.

The flesh of her upper arms still
burned where his hands had supported her. It provided her only source of
warmth. She shivered in reaction to the potency of that unexpected contact.

Yet, he simply walked away...

Stephanie, as usual, was 'watching'
her weight. Missy couldn't help but smile, seeing her dig into a salad that
probably boasted more calories than a platter of pasta in cream sauce. It soon
became clear, however, that Steph was far more interested in what just
transpired between James and Missy than anything on her plate.

“Little
one?
Pet?
SIR?”
She
repeated the strange endearments, enunciating the next more indignantly than
the last.
“
What the heck was
that all about, ‘
Little’
Miss
Missy?” Blushing crimson, Missy tried to pass off the unusual terminology as
simply their way of expressing fondness and mutual respect.
Calling him 'sir' just seemed so natural.

Master...

Unimpressed and unappeased, blatant
curiosity was written all over Stephanie's face. Seeing it, Missy was grateful,
at least, that she hadn’t uttered the word ‘Master’. She winced, imagining Steph’s
apoplectic expression if that were the case!

Desperate to change the highly
sensitive subject, Missy disclosed a tidbit almost as juicy. “It didn't work
out between us, Steph. I was in way over my head. Not to mention he's made it
clear that he can survive just fine without me.”

Shaken by the brutal truth of the
statement, she promptly shifted the discussion back to Angeline before she
began to bawl. Her toasted bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich sat untouched
before her. At least now the face had a name to match.
Angeline
.

As it turned out, the photos were
much older than Missy originally assumed. Or imagined; thanks to her frenzied
state. Stephanie figured them to be about a dozen years old. Thinking back, she
remembered that she and George had socialized with James and Angeline on only a
couple of occasions. Both times, they were part of a larger group.

If she recalled correctly, they were
engaged to be married at the time, and Stephanie was sure that grand event did
occur. While she remembered Angeline as young, beautiful and sophisticated, she
could not recall sharing a single conversation with her.

Chuckling, Stephanie added, “What I
do remember is George ogling her to the point of making a complete fool of
himself. He behaved like a besotted teenager, the old goat. Can you imagine
anything more ridiculous?”

The two women were still chuckling
at the notion as they exited the mall arm-in-arm. With her mind now planted
firmly in the past, Stephanie abruptly stopped laughing. She lowered her voice
to a whisper. “If I'm not mistaken, I believe I heard something several years
ago about Angeline dying suddenly.”

Missy's legs felt like rubber. Numb,
she barely managed to climb into the flashy
Lexxus
.

Now, slumped on her couch and
already more than a teensy bit intoxicated, Missy Weaver gave up all hope of
losing herself in the sweet nothingness she aspired to. She decided instead to
lose herself in another glass of wine.

I ran from nothing. A ghost...