A Man Without Mercy

As he stared down at her, Jack’s mind went back to that moment when he’d taken her on all fours, her lush breasts cradled in his hands. He recalled how she’d moaned when he’d squeezed her nipples; how she’d rocked back and forth on her knees, slapping her buttocks against his hip; how she’d cried out when she finally came. Jack couldn’t remember being with a woman who’d come as hard as she had. It had felt incredible, being inside her at that moment.

‘Better not think about that right now,’ he muttered to himself and hurried downstairs, locking the front doors behind him before climbing into his car and driving off. Time enough for such thoughts after he’d had lunch; his stomach was telling him it was eating time. Jack remembered passing a small shopping centre on the way here where they were sure to have everything he would need for the rest of day.

* * *

Vivienne woke to the sound of silence, plus the realisation that at some stage Jack had covered her with the bottom half of the duvet. Sitting up, she glanced around the empty room, looking and listening for evidence of where he might have gone to. There were no sounds coming from anywhere nearby, other than some distant chirping of birds. Surely Jack wouldn’t have left her alone in the house? Alone and naked.

A shiver ran down her spine.

It was then that she saw the note. Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, Vivienne reached down to pick it up, sighing with relief as she read his message. Not that she seriously imagined Jack would run out on her. Why would he, when he no doubt thought he’d now solved two problems with one Vivienne? His need for an interior designer, plus his need for a sexual partner. After the act she’d just put on for him in bed, he would naturally conclude she would agree to whatever he wanted.

But it hadn’t been an act, had it? Vivienne accepted with a degree of confusion. She’d been genuinely swept away with desire and passion for the man. She’d enjoyed everything they’d done together, thrilling to her new, uninhibited self. As for that mind-blowing orgasm... A girl would have to be insane not to want more of those.

Why was it, Vivienne puzzled, that she’d never experienced anything like that with Daryl? After all, she’d been madly in love with the man. But not once had she been carried away in bed the way she had been with Jack. Not once had she come with Daryl inside her. Surely it couldn’t just be a question of size? She didn’t believe that. After all, she’d been panting for Jack before he’d taken off his clothes. She’d been panting for him back in the restaurant yesterday, for pity’s sake!

It was all very perplexing.

The sound of a car roaring up the steep driveway sent Vivienne into a momentary panic. As wildly uninhibited as she’d been during sex with Jack, no way did she want him walking in on her still in the nude.

Scooping up her clothes, she raced over to the door which she presumed led into a bathroom. And, yes, it was a bathroom...in a fashion.

‘Oh, lordie, lordie, lordie!’ she exclaimed, laughing.

Vivienne did know that, in theory, pink and black bathrooms had been all the rage at some stage last century but she’d never actually seen one. Talk about hideous! Shaking her head in wry amusement, she closed the door behind her. After using the black toilet and washing her hands in the pink vanity basin, she quickly dressed. She was finger-combing her hair in the large but chipped wall mirror when there was a sharp rapping on the bathroom door.

‘You in there, Vivienne?’ Jack called out.

‘Er...yes; I’m getting dressed,’ she said, feeling suddenly awkward with him, not to mention embarrassed. It seemed the old Vivienne was rearing her uptight head once again.

‘I’ve bought us some food,’ Jack said as he opened the door and walked straight in.

‘Don’t you believe in knocking?’ she said sharply.

He looked taken aback. ‘I thought I did.’

‘Well, yes, but you should still wait till I invite you to enter.’

‘Mmm. Your mood seems to have deteriorated since I left. I dare say you’re mad at me for not staying to give you those seconds you wanted. Sorry, beautiful, but aside from the condom issue I’m afraid men of my size need constant refuelling.’

Vivienne wished he hadn’t mentioned his size. Or her rather brazen statement about having seconds. The wanton hussy who’d said those things suddenly seemed to have disappeared, which bothered her. Because she liked that hussy. She liked her a lot. All Vivienne could hope was that once Jack started making love to her again—which he would, sooner or later—she’d turn back into that exciting new Vivienne again.