The former fiancé would have to find a new way to get on TV.
Valzar returned with a small glass of amber fluid, handing it to Sean. He drained the drink in one smooth motion, enjoying the way it burned down his throat. Damn, it was good to be out of prison.
“I need to be leaving soon,” Valzar said. “Is there anything that you need from me before I go?”
Sean shook his head, lost in thought.
“No, everything you’ve done for me is wonderful,” he said. “I can never thank you enough. I’ll let you know when I decide what my next step is.”
“Sounds good,” Valzar said. He stood, and Sean started to follow him. He waved him off.
“No, sit and relax,” he said. “I want you to enjoy yourself for now. It’s been far too long since you’ve had any privacy and space. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
With that he turned and left the room, leaving Sean alone with his thoughts.
* * * * *
Sandra sat quietly in the room, unsure what to do with herself. She’d explored a bit, discovering that their bedroom was attached to a large, lovely balcony overlooking a private courtyard. There was a spacious bathroom complete with a whirlpool tub and shower for two.
It was nicer than anything she’d ever seen. What kind of money did it take to maintain a place like this out in the middle of nowhere, and how had it been earned? She shuddered to think. She stood and walked over to the balcony, looking out at the small courtyard. She could climb down easily enough, but there was no point. Even if she managed to get away from the house, she had no doubt the jungle would kill her. She didn’t even like camping back home; a jungle trek was completely out of the question as far as she was concerned. She’d last about ten minutes, if that.
No, her salvation lay in convincing Sean to let her go, making him believe she was no threat at all. In all honesty, she wasn’t. If she could magically transport herself home right now she wouldn’t call the police.
Hell, no. She was more of afraid of him than anything else, and if he didn’t get her, his friend Valzar would.
She had to make peace with him.
The door opened behind her, and she started. It was Rosa, her face cool and hostile.
“I have clothing here for you,” she said. “You are probably too fat for it, but it’s the best I could do.”
She dumped a pile of fabric rudely on the bed and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Whatever else Rosa might be, she certainly wasn’t a potential ally.
She walked over to the clothing and sifted through it, discovering several light, simple cotton blouses and long flowing skirts in bright colors. No bra and underwear, but she could wash out the ones she wore.
Not wearing underwear might turn him on… anything she could do to keep him interested was a good thing.
She pulled off her oversized, male clothing and pulled on the fresh garments. The light cotton blouse had a loose, wide neckline that dipped low. She looked in the mirror, noting that her br**sts filled it out nicely, and thankful that they were small enough that she could get away with not wearing a bra. Her ni**les formed pert peaks underneath the fabric, and she imagined she could see just a hint of color through the thin cotton. She pulled on the skirt next, enjoying the swirl of it around her ankles. The thin cotton might be enveloping, but she had no doubt direct sunlight would render it nearly transparent.
Normally she would have been embarrassed to wear something like this, but now she put her shoulders back and shook out her hair. There was power in being female, a power that she needed to tap into and use to the best of her ability. This clothing was perfect.
She went into the bathroom and had started to rinse out her bra when she heard the door open again.
She walked back out and saw Sean standing there. He looked at her with darkened eyes, a thoughtful, calculating expression on his face.
“Hello,” she said softly, smiling at him. Things seemed less strange with him in the room. He was her link to reality, the reason she was there.
“Rosa gave me some new clothing,” she said unnecessarily. His eyes flickered across her figure, pausing at her br**sts, and she thrust them out toward him.
“I like it,” she said, walking toward him, allowing her hips to swing as she moved. “It’s cool and comfortable.”
He stayed silent, so she sashayed closer, resting one hand on his chest.
“You seem tired,” she said. “Do you want to come to bed and rest? I’d be happy to give you a massage.”
“How about a blow job?” he asked, his eyes boring into hers. “That’s more along the lines of what I’d like.”
He seemed distant, almost angry, but she nodded her head and gave a hesitant smile. She could do this, nothing to worry about. She reached for the waistband of his pants, unfastening them carefully. He wore boxers, plain white ones. What now? He didn’t do anything to help her, and she pulled back hesitantly.
“Where do you want me to do it?” she asked softly. “There’s got to be a better place than right here in the middle of the room.”
“Why do you care?” he asked, all but snarling. “I thought you were a professional. Don’t tell me you’re uncomfortable giving me a simple blowjob. Drop to your knees and do it.”
She nodded, and wished for the thousandth time that she hadn’t taken the private appointment with
Edgar. Then she gave herself a mental shake. No time for regrets.
Sandra dropped to her knees, grasping the fabric of his pants to steady herself as she swayed.
Kneeling, she could see the bulge of his penis beneath the boxers. She took a deep breath, reached both hands up and grasped the waistband. She had done this with Matt, she reminded herself, and at least this guy wasn’t lying to her like her fiancé had.
Slowly the boxers came down. His penis bobbed before her, an angry red giant that seemed far too large for her mouth to accommodate. She licked her lips nervously and shot him a quick glance. He still stared at her with that strange, angry expression on his face, as if she’d disappointed him. What did he want from her?
It was too scary to imagine what was going through his head, so she turned her attention back to the task at hand. She reached out, tracing the edge of the head with one finger. He didn’t respond, although his erection bobbed under her touch. She let her hand fall lower, grasping the smooth, silky shaft with gentle force. Then she leaned her head forward and delicately touched her tongue to the very tip of his length.