Masters & Lovers Box Set One

Richard

Elizabeth walks in, dirty and unkempt. She flops down into a chair.

"You look exhausted my Love. How's the house clearing going?"

"Oh, you have no idea. It's all bottles and jars now for recycling." She pulls a face. "Mainly whiskey bottles. Old newspapers, all tied up with string and kept. There's been rats nesting in some of them, but he kept them anyway. And yet more old paperwork cleared out from the back of the attic."

A tap on the door, a pause, then Ross pops a head around the door. "Would you like a bath running, Mrs Haswell? Or something to eat?"

"Oh Ross. Thank you. Yes, both would be lovely. You're a life saver."

"You're welcome," he smiles then retreats back out again.

"Whiskey bottles, eh? That doesn't sound too good. Speaking of which, would you like a drink?"

"I would, but not whiskey. A glass of wine would be lovely."

I pour two glasses of a Rioja James recommended. Rolling it around my mouth, it is indeed, rather good. I sit beside my tired wife, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Anything interesting in the paperwork?"

"I'm not sure." She sounds thoughtful as she sips her wine. "This lot doesn't seem to be like the rest, just accumulated rubbish. He had it stashed right out of the way, and in careful storage too, in wooden crates rather than just cardboard boxes. I took a quick look. It seems to be old company paperwork."

"Really? Michael should enjoy looking through that then. He seems to be one of life's natural detectives. Having something solid to work on should put a smile on his face."

*****

James

The day before the Grand Opening of Michael's spa hotel, 'Life and Beauty' - If it succeeds as he hopes, pulling in the rich and prosperous from the City to be pampered, cosseted and generally made much of, it should earn him a tidy sum. As well as paying off handsomely for Richard who has invested in the project, albeit with Beth's name on the share certificates.

Michael is like a cat on a hot tin roof and simply impossible to be around. We have plenty of time in hand, and everything is ready, planned well in advance, but he's nervous and it shows. He circles the grounds like a shark then paces the inside getting in everyone's way.

"What exactly is wrong with the way the kitchens are working?" I ask.

He scowls at me. "I don't know. I'm just not convinced everything's as it should be...."

"Sally managed perfectly well for the wedding."

"That was for friends and family, and a fairly simple menu. This is much more complicated and we're aiming at the top of the market price-wise. Everything has to be perfect."

"I'm sure it will be. Sally...."

"Sally's new to this too!" he snaps. "I'm beginning to wish I'd hired someone with more experience."

"Why didn't you?"

"She seemed good at the time, but she's very young. This is the biggest thing she's handled in her career," he snaps.

"So, she's highly motivated to get it right," I point out.

"And if she doesn't? If I've made a mistake, it's too late to put it right now."

I retreat. Michael's usually sunny nature eclipsed by bad temper, I give up on trying to help and leave him to himself.

If he wants me, he'll call soon enough...

So, I head to the bedroom for a shower....

.... and Charlotte's there ahead of me, freshly bathed I'd say, from the pink gleam over her face.

Why do women like such hot baths...?

Sitting on the bed, my mermaid wears a long silky wrap in teal green, tied closed with a belt in matching fabric.

And she's wearing a small velvet choker. I've not seen it on her before....

It stirs something in me.

I've never collared her....

.... Wonder how she'd react....

Symbolism aside, it looks beautiful on her, complementing the line of a long, graceful neck and the curve from nape to hairline. And she's combing her hair; slow smooth strokes that tease apart small tangles until the tresses lie smooth and silken....

What is it about the sight of a woman brushing her hair?

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Utterly non-sexual, and yet utterly feminine and womanly, surely it is one of the most stirring sights there is.

And she's not noticed me yet. So, I indulge myself, leaning against the door frame to take some of the heat from my thigh, and I simply watch her, drinking her in.

As she brushes, humming something soft, her tresses sway and swing and swish in a rhythmic ebb and flow, the red locks highlighting amber and bronze.

There's a movement behind me, Michael. "What are you looking at?"

"Shhh.... Just watch."

He hovers in silence for a moment, then, "That's something isn't it," he murmurs.

My thigh is aching, and I have to shift my position, suppressing a sigh as the fire subsides. But she notices the movement, perhaps in the mirror and her eyes flick to mine in the reflection. "Master, Michael, I didn't see you there." "We were trying not to disturb you."

She stands, her eyes passing between us. From behind Michael whispers, "You up for it?"

Oh yes.....

"You've recovered your temper then?"

"Er, yes." He sounds sheepish. "I came to apologise."

"Accepted. Now then...."

We move, together, into the room and she sees it in our faces. Head tilting, lips curving, her fingers tug at the belt and the robe sways open, displaying the smooth skin of her belly, the slight sheen on the curve to her breasts. She steps to meet each us and we to her, Charlotte between us as Michael and I stand to either side.

He plucks at the satin. "It's lovely on you, but I don't think we need this, do we?" Sighing a nod, she shrugs it back and away from her shoulders.

"Knees," I murmur.

Her lips part and she drops, Michael steadying her with her hand in his fingers as she lowers herself. Then his eyes shift to mine as he half offers me a hand.

My instinct is to refuse it....

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.... but my thigh aches and....

.... He's just been gracious....

I should be too....

Taking the hand to help me ease down, I sit on the floor beside her, one leg outstretched but with her lovely body, naked save for the choker, in my reach.

Michael sits on the edge of the bed. "I'm going to watch for a while."

You want a show....

.... I'll give you a show....

"Kneel up straight, Charlotte."

Her chest rising and falling a little more quickly, her eyes fall as she obeys me.

"Hands behind your back."

I eye-point Michael to the belt and wordlessly, he passes it to me. In silence also, I bind my Jade-Eyes' wrists with green silk, to rest by the cleft at the base of her spine. "Thighs wide," I say. "And close your eyes."

It's not easy for her to move now, hands bound, but that is my intent. Shuffling a bit, she parts her knees further and as her thighs open her scent, heady and wonderful, sweeps over me. Michael watches in silence, pupils wide and black in his brilliantly blue eyes. He's beginning to bulge to the fore. For that matter, so am I.

Charlotte trembles, a mix of physical strain and arousal I think, her skin with a rising blush over her stomach. With a fingertip, very lightly, I trace the outline of that blush, avoiding any overtly sexual area. Her perfume grows as I follow her silhouette with the fingertip, up and along the line of her tight waist, tracing along shoulder and collarbone, down through her cleavage and to her navel.

She's quivering now...

And I've barely touched her....

.... The power of suggestion....

.... and anticipation....