Chapter 3: Missing a Husband
|
When the door shut Mrs Regan said: "Well, how will you go about it then?" "How and when did he skip out?" "Didn't Dad tell you?" I grinned at her with my head on one side. She flushed. Her hot black eyes looked mad. "I don't see what there is to be cagey about," she snapped, "And I don't like your manners." "I'm not crazy about yours," I said, "I didn't ask to see you. You sent for me. I don't mind you drinking your lunch out of a Scotch bottle. I don't mind you showing me your tits. They're wonderful tits and it's a pleasure to make their acquaintance. I don't mind if you don't like my manners. They're pretty bad. I grieve over them during the long winter evenings. But don't waste your time trying to cross-examine me." She slammed the glass down so hard that it slopped over on an ivory cushion. She swung her legs to the floor and stood up with her eyes sparkling fire and her nipples hard as diamond. Her legs were slightly open and her pussy lips snarled at me. Her knuckles were white. "People don't talk to me like that," she said thickly. I sat there and grinned at her. Very slowly she closed her mouth and looked down at the spilled liquor. She sat down on the edge of the chaise-longue and cupped her chin in one hand. "My God, you big dark handsome brute!" she said, "I loathe masterful men. Simply loathe them." "Just what is it that you're afraid of, Mrs Regan?" Her eyes whitened. Then they darkened until they seemed to be all pupil. Her nostrils looked pinched. "That wasn't what he wanted with you at all," she said in a strained voice which still had shreds of anger clinging to it," About Rusty. Was it?" "Better ask him." She flared up again. "Get out! Damn you, get out!" I stood up. "Sit down!" she snapped. I sat down. I flicked a finger at my palm and waited.
|
Part 1