NorthernPassion (5 page)

“Well absence made the heart grow fonder or something
because GG wasn’t trying to forget him.” Kimberly paused. “She seemed more torn
up about his death than about her sister just leaving. We don’t know where she
is, either. Or at least I don’t.” Her brow furrowed as she paused. “Wait, are
you saying you’re glad the man is dead? I can’t believe that, not even from
you.” Kimberly paused and a heavy silence fell over the kitchen. The suggestion
was something they all had been thinking but no one had dared say it, at least
not in Martin’s presence, until now.

“No, of course not.” Martin’s brow wrinkled and he rubbed his
forehead. “What I’m saying is, she was too attached to the man. We aren’t
supposed to get so attached to our outside partners. This is about sex, not
love, right?”

Kimberly gasped. “You think she loved him? You aren’t trying
to get her back for that or anything, are you? ’Cause that’s crazy.” She
studied Martin, alarm on her face. They all knew Martin was a little crazy but
she wasn’t quite sure what he was capable of.

Martin paused, thinking. He knew full well his wife had been
in love with that man, the one who had died, but he didn’t want to think about
that now. Kimberly was right. Their arrangement was about sex and keeping
passion in their respective marriages. They kept each other happy, but no one
was supposed to meet up or fall in love outside their groups. That was the
rule. If you got too attached, you ended your arrangement and regrouped. Only
Geneva hadn’t done that.

He didn’t know how he felt about the tidbit of knowledge
about his wife. It might be different if he knew nothing. But how could one “un-know”
anything? It just wasn’t possible. “How about let’s not discuss that now. It’ll
be nice to do something different, that’s all.”

Kimberly opened the dishwasher and added her used coffee
mug. “You’re the boss.”

“I am, aren’t I?” Martin joined her by the sink. He reached
behind Kimberly’s head and pulled her curly hair to one shoulder. “And you’re
my second in command, so you have to do what I say.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Is that so? That’s news to me. I
thought GG was your second in command or whatever you’re calling it.”

“Nah, she’s just a lieutenant. She’s not strong enough to
handle all the pressure.”

“Does she know?” Kimberly was amused but didn’t move away.
She liked being this close to Martin, even if he scared her sometimes. He was
so focused, he didn’t seem human. That made him powerful and irresistibly
attractive.

Martin placed his lips on hers and she let him, kissing him
back. “What about the rules? Isn’t this considered outside of guidelines?”

He shook his head. “We just had a meeting about the group. I
don’t think so. This is official business right here. Haven’t I told you that
since I’m the boss, I get to re-write the guidelines as I see fit?”

“Quite often, but what if GG comes in?”

“I can handle her. Actually, I hope she’d join us. We
haven’t had a good threesome in a while.” Martin lifted her up onto the kitchen
counter, simultaneously hiking up her peasant skirt. Kimberly didn’t
disappoint. She’d conveniently chosen to forget panties that morning. He let
out a heavy breath and guided himself into her already wet opening.

They both let out a sigh as their bodies met. “I don’t think
GG would appreciate my bare ass on her counter.”

“I’ll disinfect it afterward,” Martin growled into her ear.

Kimberly wrapped her legs around Martin, drawing him in
closer. He put his hand under her thighs and thrust into her deeper. He wanted
to take his time but this one would have to be a quickie.

Kimberly reached backward to steady herself, knocking over
the fruit bowl in the process. Martin stopped the apples from rolling into the
sink without missing a beat, then moved the crystal wine decanter Kimberly had
given to him and GG for Christmas. He’d hate to explain its demise. This tryst
wasn’t outside the rules of their marriage, but it certainly wasn’t one he
wanted to talk about if he didn’t have to. This was a gray area, so to speak.

“Oh this is good.” Kimberly gasped for breath in-between her
words. “I’m getting close.”

Martin moved faster, pushing himself deeper with each
thrust, enjoying the feel of Kimberly’s fingers in his hair. “I’m coming!” His
world blacked out and he closed his eyes tight, watching the stars behind his
eyelids. Finally he pulled away from Kimberly and zipped his pants.

She jumped down from the counter, letting her skirt fall
back below her knees. “You’d better clean that.” She wiped her hand across her
now flushed face, then grabbed some paper towels to wipe her sex. No need to
leave with Martin’s fluids running down her legs.

Martin reached under the sink and grabbed the disinfectant.
He sprayed it liberally over the counter, wiping it down with a paper towel. “How’s
that?”

Kimberly nodded with satisfaction. “At least I know you’re
not a total barbarian.” She’d left her bag on the kitchen island when she came
in. Kimberly grabbed it and slung it over her shoulder.

As she turned to go, Martin snapped her on the ass with a
kitchen towel.

She jumped. “So juvenile.” Her words were full of mischief. “That
kind of felt good. Next time, add a little pain to the pleasure, please.”

He nodded and let her find her own way out.

Ain’t no Party

The block was very quiet as the evening light gave way to
the dark. The single old-fashioned street lamp flickered on, casting an eerie
light onto the street. Sam locked the door behind them as they ventured out. It
made more sense to walk down to the party than to drive. They were only going a
few doors away and the visual of them walking together arm in arm would be good
for the neighbors to see.

Desiree clutched the bottle of wine they’d decided to take
with them. “This one is okay, right?” It was a Pinot Grigio she was glad to
give away. They really didn’t drink anything but reds, so this one had to go.
She looked at the label and grimaced. The house had come stocked with more
liquor in the bar than it had dishes in the kitchen. Reed’s view of a normal
home was obviously slightly warped.

Sam nodded and bent his arm at the elbow so Desiree could
slip hers around it. “Let’s go, wife.”

Desiree’s heart skipped a beat. “Stop playing, husband.” The
words were still alien to her, but she was sure she’d get used to them tonight.
People would be referring to her as Mrs. Comfort all night long. She kind of
liked the idea. There was a lot she liked about this assignment, including an
extra excuse to hold on to Sam. She squeezed his arm, enjoying the firmness of
his well-muscled forearm. It felt good to be close to him, but her shoes made
her feel as if she were walking on her tiptoes. “I hope I don’t fall off these
bad boys,” she said. They were obviously made for standing around, not walking
anywhere, the kind of shoe that told a man a woman was available and waiting.

“Hmm.” Sam’s look told Desiree he admired her shoes and
dress. “You look damn good in them. I hope you fall off them.” He grinned. “Right
into bed with me.”

She punched his shoulder playfully. His head was always in
the bedroom and she loved it. Sure, this was part of her job, but the thought
of sleeping anywhere near Sam made her hot. He was practically irresistible.
Normally, that might be a problem, but for this assignment, it was a plus. The
attraction between them lent more believability to them as a married couple.

“No, for real,” he said. “Except you can keep the shoes on
when you fall. You look delicious tonight.” He ran his tongue over his lips as
he let his gaze frolic along the length of her body.

Desiree blushed. “I’m glad you noticed.” She had taken extra
time to pick out her outfit. Her little black dress was more than just a black
dress. It hugged her every curve just right and was covered with fringe that
moved when she did and emphasized her every move. It made it look as if her
body was shimmering when she walked. There was no doubt her neighbors would
notice her, but she wanted Sam to have a hard time tearing his eyes away from
her too. The invitation had called for festive attire and her dress was festive
without being over the top.

“But you’d better hope we won’t be doing any fighting
tonight ’cause everyone will certainly see your goodies.” He touched Desiree’s
short hemline gently, then winked at her.

Desiree knew her dress was way shorter than he was used to
seeing her in, but she looked great in it. Her legs were among her best
features, although there were certainly a lot of things about her that kept him
coming back for more.

“Whatever, lover.” Desiree tried to sound dismissive but a
small part of her knew he was right. These weren’t exactly fighting clothes,
although she could be out of her shoes faster than a blink of an eye. “Just as
long as you keep your eyes on me, I think we’ll be good. Besides, I don’t think
it’s that kind of party. These people don’t seem like the type to fight
physically.”

“I’ve been surprised before. I hope you’re right. I’d hate
to see you mess up that pretty face.” He stopped her and pulled her to him,
kissing her in the middle of her forehead. “There isn’t much chance of me being
able to take my eyes away from you, even if I wanted to. You look delicious.
I’m going to have to taste you later, that’s for sure.” Desiree’s nerves
quivered as she thought about those possibilities. She would never get enough
of Sam never getting enough of her. Too often, they had to keep things under
wraps. This assignment certainly had its benefits.

Both Sam and Desiree practically held their breath as they
waited for someone to answer the door to the Jenilham house. It took what
seemed like an eternity. Just when they thought they’d made a mistake, the door
swung open and the curtain was up. Suddenly, they were back on the job, a happily
married couple excited to mingle with their new neighbors. Sam was a computer
executive and Desiree was a housewife trying to expand her web design services into
a new country, in the meantime, eagerly awaiting her loving husband’s return
every night. Similar to a director calling “Action” in a film, Desiree’s smile
was immediately plastered on her face. For her, the part was close enough to
reality where staying in character wouldn’t be a problem. The preliminary
jitters only stayed a minute. Desiree was good at her job, with or without Sam
to guide her.

“Comforts!” Geneva Jenilham was already snookered. She
practically reached onto the small front steps and pulled Sam inside.

Desiree cringed at the use of their supposed last name as a
collective. Geneva Jenilham was obviously a special one.

“We’re so glad you could make it. Let me find my husband so
you can meet him too.” Her words tumbled from her mouth too quickly and she
swayed a little in-between. They stepped inside and Desiree fought back the
overwhelming feeling building as she quickly surveyed the scene.

With what looked like over thirty people in the room, the
small space appeared packed to overflowing. A few wore jeans, mostly the men,
but the women had on dresses making them look like they were competing for the
title of Miss Tight, Low-Cut and Short. All seemed overdressed for a simple
house cocktail party. Desiree was sure there were quite a few who couldn’t sit
or bend over without exposing their assets, but not one of them seemed to be
concerned about it. Everyone appeared to be quite merry.

Most held a drink in their hands or were at least in close
proximity to one. They seemed to have been there for a while even though the
invitation had said be prompt. Sam and Desiree made eye contact, obviously
thinking the same thing. Perhaps the instruction on when to arrive had been
strictly for the newcomers. From the looks of things, Geneva wasn’t the only
one who had already knocked back a few drinks. Desiree’s gaze darted around the
room quickly, taking it all in. Could it be they were all purposely trying to
be drunk? “Seems like the party is in full swing,” she said.

Geneva let out a cackle, addressing Desiree as if they were
old friends rather than two people who had only known each other ten minutes. “Girl,
it is! We waste no time jumping right into the fun around here. You’ll see.
Come. Now.”

The words were obviously meant as a command rather than a
request. Desiree held back her surprise. “Okay.” She had no idea what could
possibly be so urgent.

Geneva resumed her hold on Sam and led them toward the
bowels of the house. Relegated to the background, Desiree followed as closely
as she could to Sam, but her host was making that hard. Geneva was small, but
she seemed to be pulling Sam through room after room with the force of a farm
tractor.

The front room of the house was supposed to be a formal
area, but they had converted the whole thing into a giant sitting room. So very
American in the midst of a more traditionally formal place. France had its customs
and everything about this gathering appeared to be going against the grain.
Desiree’s skin prickled. They had to practically push their way through the
crowd as people clumped together in groups of four. Desiree couldn’t shake the sense
that all eyes were on them, the feeling akin to being on stage, only the people
in the audience had mastered looking without looking. She shivered. It was odd
to her, as if something was off. Since coming to France, she had gotten so used
to the French stare. It was just what they did. And unlike back home, staring
at someone wasn’t considered rude, it sort of meant that people liked the look
of you. Staring was a very French thing to do but when French people stared,
you knew. There were no eyes darting away in apology once they were caught in
the act. French stares were full-on ogles and what was happening here was
anything but that.

Just as they reached the end of the room, someone grabbed
Desiree’s arm. She stopped in her tracks, but Sam continued without her.
Desiree looked around frantically as the crowd closed around him and he and
Geneva disappeared. She bristled. It all felt so intentional. Geneva had
purposely planned to get her and Sam separated and everyone in the room was in
cahoots with her.

“Hey, now.” A very blond, very tall, thin man held on to her
wrist. “We haven’t met you. You must be the new neighbors. Welcome.” He gave
her a glassy-eyed smile, not bothering to conceal his curiosity as he raked her
body with his eyes.

It took Desiree a second to focus herself. She fought back
the confusion that threatened to take over. “My husband…” She looked in the
direction where Sam and Geneva had disappeared and back to the couple who were
blocking her way. Anger mounted inside her. Desiree closed her eyes and then opened
them again, taking a deep breath to try to quell the unwelcome feeling. Just
what was she angry at? That they’d been separated? Or that Sam was off
somewhere with an obviously inebriated and hopelessly handsy Geneva?

“Will be fine. GG will bring him right back.” A younger-looking
woman slipped underneath the man’s arm. Her impossibly low cleavage was so
revealing, it looked as if she might jump out of her shirt at any minute.
Desiree’s eyes were riveted to her overflowing blouse, even though she knew what
she was doing was rude. She just couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered.

The woman laughed. “I’m so used to it. We live across the
street.” She laughed again. “And my girls live there too.”

“Your girls?” Desiree’s brows furrowed. She was finally able
to make eye contact with the woman. She was less inebriated than her partner
seemed to be, but the smell of alcohol still lingered around her. “My breasts.”
She laughed, touching her breasts gently. “You have to have a sense of humor
around here. That’s what I call my breasts. Wanna touch?”

There was no time to protest. Before she knew what was
happening, Desiree’s new friend had grabbed her wrist and snatched her hand,
placing it so it was dead center on her left breast. Desiree’s mouth dropped
open, but she couldn’t bring herself to move away.

The woman kept talking normally while her companionlooked bored. “I just had them done. Hubby thinks they’re hard,
but I don’t. I love my new boobs. They’re supposed to soften up, but they need
to be massaged daily. What do you think? Go ahead. Squeeze.”

All Desiree could do was nod. Being invited to sample
another woman’s parts was a new one for her. “They feel…nice. Very real.”

Finally the husband spoke up. “They’d better get more than
nice for what they cost. Plastic surgery is like highway robbery these days.”

Desiree was more composed now. She almost had to fight back
laughter. “You don’t say?”

“You mean you haven’t had any? Your girls are real?” The
woman slurred her words just a little bit. “I mean, those are some good-looking
boobs you got there.”

Desiree blushed, unsure of what to say. “Thank you. Mother
Nature is the best surgeon.”

The man guffawed with laughter and his wife stumbled forward
with her hand out, intent on putting her hand on Desiree’s breast now. Desiree
stepped to the side. She could go with most flows, but this was something else.
Letting a woman fondle her breast was just too much too fast. The woman
stumbled and almost fell. Her husband caught her just in time, but not before
she knocked over a small wooden table sitting to the side.

A picture frame clattered to the floor. “I’m so sorry,” the
woman said.

The room was deadly quiet now. Desiree blushed as every eye
seemed to be on them. “No, I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect you to reach out and
touch my—”

“No worries,” the man said. “We’re all kind of friendly
around here. It takes some getting used to.” He set the table back up on its
legs and the buzz in the room resumed.

The picture frame had skidded off to the side. Desiree
reached down and picked it up to return it to its place. Just as she was about
to put it back on the table, she glanced at it and stopped in her tracks. The
woman in the picture was eerily familiar.

“Who is this?” Desiree stared at the picture. “I feel as if
I know her.” Her question was rhetorical. The woman’s face in the frame
actually confirmed the intelligence they already had.

Her boobilicious friend squinted to make her eyes focus on
the small image. She held Desiree’s hand to steady the picture. “I’m not sure.
I think that’s GG.”

Her husband held the two women’s hands steady so he could
get a closer look. “That’s not GG. That’s her sister. The one who lives in
Toulouse now. She used to come to these parties, but then just like that, she
up and moved to the French countryside all la-di-dah like.”

“Oooh!” the wife exclaimed. “I do remember her. I think we—”

Her husband cut her off. “Had dinner with them once or
something. Remember? She moved after the accident that killed that guy?”

His wife looked confused but nodded. “Oh yes. GG was very
upset about that. We all were. I think it’s understandable to want to make a
change after a tragedy.”

Desiree smiled. They had confirmed her and Sam’s suspicions.
The Jenilhams were connected to the dead groomsmen. She just didn’t know how.
She put the frame back in its place. “Who could blame her, really? The French
countryside is a lovely place.”