by JD Nixon
“Heller’s phone. Heller’s love bunny speaking. I’m sorry he can’t come to the phone right now because he’s been a very naughty boy and I have him tied to my bed for a jolly good spanking,” I said sweetly.
In response, I received a stream of obscenities. I held the phone away from my ear in mock-amazement. Then she hung up again.
“Goodness me!” I exclaimed. “Your lady friend has a colourful vocabulary.”
“You’re not improving her mood by doing that,” he pointed out bluntly, but there was a suggestion of a smile on his shapely lips.
I sat through another half-dozen rings without answering, when I decided that I’d really had enough. The next time it rang I answered.
“Look, he’ll ring you back when he stops driving, you crazy bitch. Okay?” I yelled into the phone and this time, I hung up.
Heller’s sideways glance was loaded with admonition, but I didn’t care. What I said did the trick, because she stopped ringing.
I studied him while he drove, surprised that he’d put up with such harassment from a woman. That concerned me.
“Do you love her?” I blurted out. It may have been the bravest question I’d ever asked anyone in my life.
He glanced at me quickly. “No! Of course I don’t,” he replied with a sincerity that called to be believed. “I don’t do love, Matilda. You know that.” Silence for a while. “I’ve only ever met one woman in my life who might change my mind about that. And it’s definitely not Vanessa. She’s merely a . . . pastime.”
His eyes slid my way and that funny feeling invaded my stomach again. I wished I hadn’t asked that question, because now I swirled with emotions I didn’t understand. Maybe I was merely one of his pastimes too? And maybe I wasn’t. How would I ever know?
I should have realised that he wouldn’t let it go. “Why do you ask? Are you jealous?”
I heaved a weary sigh. “No Heller, I didn’t ask out of jealousy.” And wasn’t that quite the falsehood? “I was just wondering why you put up with a woman who’s so obviously obsessed with you. It’s not healthy or normal. And I’m sure even you realise that.”
“Maybe I enjoy the attention. I’m not receiving much of that lately from . . . others. It’s a nice change to have a woman chasing after me, instead of trying to avoid me all the time.”
It was my turn to glance at him, pondering his words, but his eyes remained firmly fixed on the road ahead.
“She sounds like a potential bunny boiler.”
He stared at me, bemused. “What on earth’s a bunny boiler?”
I laughed. “Heller, you really need to bone up on pop culture. Watch the movie Fatal Attraction and all will be revealed.”
“You know I don’t have time to watch movies. I have a business to run. A business that keeps you housed and fed. So just tell me what a bunny boiler is.”
“She might end up becoming a scary stalker when you dump her.” Interestingly, he didn’t dispute that he would split up with Vanessa one day. That made me feel a little more cheerful.
We approached the court complex. In his inimitable way, he managed to score a parking spot on a street nearby. I was about to say goodbye to him when he unclipped his seatbelt and opened his door.
He noticed my surprise. “I’m coming too. She was my client,” he explained.
We sat together in the public gallery. I spied Corella on the other side of the gallery and gave her a small wave. Patricia’s committal hearing was over in less than thirty minutes. She appeared in prison garb, under escort. As it was a full hand up committal, there was no cross-examination. The charge was read out and she pleaded not guilty to murdering her husband. Consequently, the magistrate committed her to trial at a future sitting of the Supreme Court. Her lawyer argued for bail, which was denied. And then she was escorted back to the remand centre.
“I guess I’ll be called up as a witness at her trial,” I said glumly.
“Most certainly. Are you worried?”
“No. I want a jury to know what a violent man her husband was. But I’ll be nervous.”
He took my hand and squeezed it. “You’ll do fine. The trial won’t be for ages anyway. I’ll go with you if you want me to. Although now that I think about it, I’ll probably be called up as a witness too.”
I let him hold my hand back to the Mercedes, enjoying the physical contact with him. He had turned off his phone while we were in the courtroom and he switched it back on again. It rang immediately. He sighed with impatience when he checked the screen.
“That’s not normal behaviour, Heller. You know that, don’t you?”
“She’s angry because I didn’t see her last night when I said I would,” he admitted. “I was too busy worrying about a certain volatile, but much cherished, employee who seemed to have completely vanished.”
“Well, I’ve reappeared now, so you can see her tonight instead. That should shut her up.”
“No, I don’t want to see her tonight. I want to watch you and Farrell training. I want to make sure you’re learning.”
“Oh no! I’d forgotten about that. I’ve arranged to see Will tonight. I guess I’ll have to go to his place a bit later. I hope Farrell takes it easy on me.”
“I didn’t ask him to be easy with you, Matilda. I want you to learn some skills. You attract more trouble than anyone I’ve ever met.”
I didn’t think that was fair. It wasn’t as if I deliberately went looking for trouble. And I did seem to meet more than my fair share of aggressive jerks.
Heller kidnapped me for the rest of the day and we spent it visiting clients, making sure that everything was running smoothly. I turned on the charm because after all, without them, I wouldn’t have a job. And to my delight, he didn’t mention Vanessa once. We even managed to resume our usual flirty banter in between visits, both of us parting for the day with smiles on our faces.
I suddenly felt good about life again – until I remembered my upcoming training session with Farrell.
I made sure I was in the gym before him. True to his word, Heller turned up and watched for the entire hour, throwing in some good advice and hints occasionally. Farrell even used him at one point to give me some tips on dealing with two assailants at the same time, but I didn’t think I was alone in hoping that I’d never have to cope with such a situation.
Although Farrell was freshly off his crutches and I’d just recovered from some serious burns, he didn’t go easy on me. By the end of the session, I was totally worn out and lay on the mat, red-faced again and gasping for air. Farrell was drenched in sweat and Heller congratulated him for working me so hard. Farrell took the praise without comment, his expression not changing by even one tic of a muscle. The man was made of rock.
“Go have a shower and I’ll drive you to Armstrong’s place,” Heller offered. I dragged myself upstairs, had a shower in record time, and donned a very pretty strapless dress. He dropped me off and volunteered to pick me up later as well. I turned him down, planning on making my own way home after spending the night.
Will greeted me very affectionately, helping me forget my angst about his recent neglect and him not being contactable. As soon as the front door closed, he pinned me up against it, kissing me ardently. He ran his hands up and down my body, lingering on my boobs and butt. I could feel his hard erection through our clothes and grabbed his butt, grinding his hips into mine, lifting up one leg to wrap around him so he could rub against me even closer. He yanked down the bodice of my dress and freed my bra-less breasts, leaning down to caress my nipples with his mouth. I groaned in pleasure and pulled his t-shirt over his head, kissing his neck and chest.
He reached under my dress, stroking me until I almost exploded with bliss. Between us, we urgently tugged off my panties. He dropped his pants, pushed my dress up and greedily rammed himself into me. He banged me so hard that the front door shook. When I came I didn’t hold back, letting him know just how much I loved it. He announced his orgasm with a final brutal thrust and a shout o
f ecstasy.
We collapsed onto each other and staggered over to his lounge to recover, holding hands.
“God, I love screwing you, Tilly,” he panted and drew me closer to nibble on my nearest nipple. “You’re so hot. I love the way you scream. You really get into it. You can tell you’re not faking.” Hmm, that wasn’t very romantic, but I guess you have to take a compliment where you find one.
He noticed my few remaining wounds and started fussing.
Too little, too late, buddy, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking.
“It was nothing,” I lied. If he couldn’t be bothered finding out what had happened to me, I couldn’t be bothered telling him.
“I hate your job. It’s so dangerous. You’re always being injured.”
“I’m afraid that’s an unavoidable risk in my job.”
“And you’re always hanging around with those big guys. I feel like a wimp every time I have to stand next to one of them,” he complained.
“No wimp could make me feel as good as you just did,” I flattered him shamelessly, not wanting to get into yet another discussion about my inconvenient life. He lapped it up, and I made sure that the rest of the night was so passionate and wild that he was soon too exhausted to bitch any more. Maybe our relationship was based on nothing but sex, but sometimes that seemed like an excellent thing. And tonight was one of those nights.
The next morning while Will was in the shower, I checked my phone and found a text from Heller offering to pick me up. I was strongly tempted to make him come and get me, but decided instead to catch the bus home. I lived in such an unusual and isolated environment that I believed it was good for me (and the others when I could convince them) to continue to do ordinary things that ordinary people do all the time. So I kissed Will goodbye as he drove off to work and walked to the bus stop. It had been a long time since I’d had to catch a bus, and I can’t say that I’d ever had any regrets about that.
It wasn’t such a good idea in retrospect. I had the unmistakable look of a woman who hadn’t been home the night before, and I was conscious of my odour, having screwed all night. I should have showered at Will’s but I preferred to go home and change there. The pretty dress I wore last night was conspicuously not off-to-work gear, and my bra-less boobs attracted far too much attention for my comfort. It was a relief to reach my stop, but the walk back to the Warehouse in my flimsy high heels was painful and slow. I ended up taking them off and carried them dangling in my hand, which only made me appear even more of a dirty stop-out.
Four men stood in the doorway to the security office chatting as I opened the front door and entered the Warehouse. They broke off their conversation and watched me as I began climbing the stairs. I gave them a half-hearted wave and knew that Heller would be informed in about one second flat that I’d returned home. The shower was my first destination and the second was my kitchen. I was ravenous after all the evening’s carnal activities and made myself a big breakfast.
I expected Heller to bother me any minute, quizzing me on my evening, but he never came. It only confirmed my view that he’d stopped taking an interest in me, regardless of what he said. I couldn’t ignore the miserable emotions that swamped me and threw my breakfast away, only half-eaten.
In the office, I pretended to be absorbed in my work when Heller arrived, so I didn’t have to acknowledge him. However, he wasn’t letting me off that easily and stood by my desk, piercing me with his icy blue stare. He looked tired.
“Did you have a pleasant night, my sweet?”
I gave him a dazzling smile, hiding my feelings. “I had a wonderful night. How about you?”
“Been out all night.”
I raised my eyebrows, paying no attention to the stab of jealousy that hit me. “Oh, so you had a great night then as well.”
“No. There was a break-in at one of the big construction sites downtown.” He told me the name of the client – it was one of his most important ones, so always received personal attention from him. “Clive and I were busy there nearly all night. We only just arrived home.” He rubbed his eyes.
“Oh.” I felt guilty about jumping to conclusions when he didn’t visit me earlier this morning. “You should get some sleep.”
I hadn’t seen his sexy half-smile for a while. I’d forgotten how much it made my stomach roll. “So should you probably. Want to join me?”
“Heller! Don’t be so naughty.” But my responding smile was genuinely happy. It was just like old times. “Anyway I’m far too exhausted after last night. I wouldn’t join you in bed without first having a solid week of good sleep, emergency rations and a back-up mobile.”
He laughed as he walked into his office. “I’ve always said you were a smart woman.”
His mobile rang as he walked away. He didn’t rush to answer it and I wondered if it was Vanessa again. Talk about clingy!
The next couple of days passed quietly and I used the spare time I had to potter around, organising things and catching up on paper work. I had another session with Farrell on Thursday night. Again I made sure I was there earlier than him.
“Hello Hugh!” I grinned cheekily at him when he arrived. I had finally remembered to ask Daniel to look up his first name for me.
He grimaced. “Farrell.”
“Hugh.”
“Farrell.”
“I’m going to call you Hugh as long as you keep calling me Chalmers.”
His face was deliberately bland. “We’ll just have to see who cracks first then, won’t we, Chalmers?”
“We will, won’t we, Hugh?”
And the game was on. I used his first name as often as possible during the next hour, delighted to see how much it irritated him. He took it out on me by working me extra hard, but I did everything he ordered without complaining. At the end, my face bright red, hair dripping with sweat and muscles screaming in pain, I flashed a brilliant smile.
“Thanks, Hugh. That was fantastic!”
“Next time, Chalmers,” he grunted and stalked out of the gym.
“Bye, Hugh! And thanks again, Hugh,” I called sweetly after him, then collapsed on the floor in agony once I was sure he’d left for good. God, I was dying! What a hard man he was, even after everything we’d been through together.
On Saturday afternoon, Heller, Clive and I drove downtown to meet Yoni Lemere who was staying at the city’s modern six-star hotel. Her arrival earlier that morning had caused a melee at the airport. Before we left, we’d watched television footage that showed her besieged by international paparazzi and local media. Only the six Heller’s men protectively surrounding her prevented her from being completely swallowed up. You could barely see the top of her head over the scrum and even our hulking security men struggled to push her through the crowd safely.
Clive grunted disapproval as we watched the TV. “Going to be a tough gig with that bunch of hyenas hanging around.”
“Make sure your men are well briefed. I don’t want any incidents between us and the media.”
“Gotcha, Boss.”
At the hotel, we were ushered into her luxurious executive suite by a glum-faced, stressed and dowdy personal assistant and shown to a lush sitting room. Which is what we did for the next twenty minutes – we sat in silence waiting for Yoni Lemere to appear. Bored, I moved over to the window, glancing out. To my surprise a throng of people crammed into every vantage point out the front of the hotel.
At the sight of a female face at the window, the crowd screamed with excitement. I waved in a friendly way that made them scream even more and set off a barrage of flashes from cameras and phones. I hurriedly sat back down again.
“What are you doing, Matilda?” Heller asked with resigned patience.
“Stirring up the fans,” I admitted sheepishly.
“Well, stop it,” he demanded.
“Gotcha, Boss.” I winked at Clive. He stared back at me, his face as unresponsive as a dead fish.
Yoni finally made her appearance, every inch the H
ollywood star, severely thin and perfectly groomed. She had glorious flowing blonde locks, sapphire blue eyes, clear skin that glowed surreally, and exclusive designer clothes draping her tall body. She was only in her mid-thirties, but it was rumoured in the trashy gossip magazines that I never read (honestly!) that she was a regular Botox user and had already succumbed to nose and boob jobs. And maybe a tummy tuck. And a thigh resculpture.
She ruined her own, possibly carefully planned, entrance by stopping short when she spotted Heller’s own supernatural magnificence. Instant lust flared in her eyes. I covertly checked out Heller’s reaction, and could tell that he was definitely interested. He wouldn’t pass up an opportunity like her if it was offered to him. And apparently it was going to be, on a silver platter.
He rose and shook her hand politely, lavishing her with a full blast of his beautiful wintry eyes, and introduced himself, Clive and me. She clung to his hand for an embarrassingly long time and didn’t even cast her eyes in Clive’s or my direction, let alone acknowledge us, her complete attention intensely focussed on Heller.
Heller explained the security he’d arranged for her during her week’s visit. As he spoke, she sat closely next to him on the sumptuous lounge, her hand on his arm, staring at him the entire time. It was hard to tell if she was listening or not. She didn’t spare me a glance when Heller explained that I’d be staying with her 24/7. I pulled a stupid face and waggled my hands around, but she still didn’t notice me. I shrugged and smiled at Clive, who again responded with his dead fish face.
Heller eventually stood up, swiftly followed by Clive. He promised Yoni that he’d return on the last night of her stay, and the meaningful glance that passed between them was not a figment of my imagination. She smiled triumphantly, while he showed his satisfaction at the arrangement with a faintly smug expression that I wanted to wipe off his face. I didn’t doubt for a minute that she thought Heller would be banging her brains out on Friday night. I didn’t doubt for a minute that he would be.
But before he left, he took me to one side for a minute.
“Take care in the crowds, Matilda. And keep in contact with the security team. And me too, please.” He squeezed my hand tightly and kissed me on the forehead.
