Passion Patrol Box Set 1

Combat-2-7

“My mother is a brilliant woman - she deals with the business side of things,” he told her.

“And your father?” she asked. He hesitated a little.

“Well, it wasn’t a perfect match - he is a poor university teacher you know, but he never...”

“Never?” she prompted.

“Never wanted a boxer for a son. He is a serious poet, what you call an intellectual.”

“Not even with your fame and success?”

“Especially not those things,” he said sadly.

She reached across the table for his hand. He returned her squeeze.

“Too bad,” he shrugged, “I cannot say that my mother wanted it - but it has brought so many things - obviously money, respect and freedom.”

Once again the weight of her big lie sat like a stone in her heart. He was talking so openly about his life and she could not return the same. She would tell him now!

The message alert of her mobile dragged her attention away. She apologized and pulled it out of her bag. It was a short report from the London bureau of Interpol. “Note your interest in La Salle. Asian sources report huge money going on Brennan to win. Looks like something is cooking up around this fight. Have a nice week-end.”

Inwardly she nailed down her responses. She looked at him, wondering what he knew. Her best way of finding out was to hang in there - but how could she? Why didn’t she simply ask him? He was looking at her with a slightly raised questioning eyebrow.

“The boat business - or something romantic?” he probed.

“No, of course nothing like that. It’s my father.”

“Ah, you have arranged the sea trial.”

“Yes,” she lied, slipping further down the slope of deceit, but grateful to get off the ropes.

“When could you be available?”

“I am in France all week and then I must fly to California for training.”

“Isn’t the fight in New York?”

“Yes, but my mother is in Monterey,” he said, nodding ruefully.

“So, I will fix a day at the end of the week and call you.”

“OK,” he beamed, “So we will meet again.”

“We have not said Good Night,” she replied with a knowing glance.

He grinned. Small wrinkles were beginning to deepen at the corners of his eyes. Looking at him left her melted. She tried to focus on the significance of the message. Freddie was on the radar of her enquiry. Inspecteur Du Maurier had logged her interest in his file and now she was professionally linked to him. If she had to investigate him she could hardly do it as his lover. She couldn’t trick her way into his heart or compromise her career by having an affair with a suspect. She ought to tell him and leave - but lose the chance of a major advance in the case. She could work to show his innocence just as well as his guilt.

“We could go dancing?” he suggested tenderly. She looked back into his eyes.

“Can’t I keep you just to myself?” she replied, realizing she was being blatant and shameless. Despite herself she was slipping further and further beyond an invisible line. He still didn’t know where she lived. She could change her mobile number in the morning. Like a fool she had told him she sold boats and was linked to Leyton Marine. She could never have known that her work would involve him. In the back of her mind she realized that he was in danger both from crooks and in the ring. Now she had lied about the message from her father and was committed to a sea trial on a Nereus 74 in a week’s time.

She swallowed the last of her wine and with it everything that swirled around her. She - they - had tonight and if there were never another night in the world, she had until morning to fulfill something she knew was her destiny.

She watched the other diners, wondering how their affairs intertwined. There would be few with such a complex lives. He took her hand across the table. His touch thrilled and electrified her body, merging her emotions with a physical longing.

“I saw you and the world was a different place,” he said in a slow deliberate deep tone.

Her eyes were locked with his, both of them searching within the other for understanding.

“You think I am trying it on - I cannot blame you.”

She wanted to say that she did not care. She was bursting and fought to control her breathing.

“It does seem pathetic to say that we don’t know each other. It seems like we do - but how can we?” she sighed helplessly.

“So our project is to discover each other... it may last a long long time,” he replied.

Inwardly she winced. He was right and the poor guy was being deceived.

“I do not want this night ever to end Freddie - can I tell you that and hope you’ll understand?” she urged softly, hoping that one day in the future he might untangle her meaning.

“Then we need not end it. We can be our own island... and all those ships can sail by. I won’t wave or light a fire if you don’t.”

It was not fair. He was so beautiful.

“Freddie - I have a small place. We could be - we could be together until the world sweeps us up again,” she said, searching his eyes.

“A strange man in your home - you will not be afraid?”

She caught his train of thought. He really was a gentleman. She knew that she was going absolutely for broke, taking all manner of risks. The moment she had touched his brow in the car and had felt his lips kiss the palm of her hand, she knew that her life had changed and would never be the same.

“Something brought us together Freddie.”

He nodded agreement and stroked the inside of her wrist.

“And you are going to say that you should not...” he began.

“Should not sleep with a man I’ve only just met,” she added into his silence.

He looked up and let out a sigh.

“I feel we knew each other since always and our bodies might just be catching up,” he said with a shrug.

A few minutes later they settled back into the limo. The evening had turned to night yet the city was vibrant with sound and lights.

“London is so beautiful,” she said, taking the chance to normalize the situation with a shred of small talk.

Freddie opened the partition and spoke to the driver. The car pushed on to Parliament Square and pulled over on Westminster Bridge.

“We have a moment to look at your beautiful city,” he said.

They stepped out. He put an arm around her shoulder as they looked downstream towards the City and Charing Cross. She felt his strength and power. Lights danced in the river. He turned her to face him. She ran her hand down his shoulder and arm feeling the round contour of his hard muscle. He pulled her against his strong body. She felt his hand move to her cheek. She watched his face as his fingers gently traced the shape of her lips. Just as she could bear it no more he raised her chin and kissed her with a melting softness. He held her lower lip in his, gently brushing it with the tip of his tongue. His powerful hand caressed her cheek with an impossible tenderness. This was the kiss - the kiss that made her whole and that she had always known was there but had been missing from the pattern of the universe. She felt exhilarated and calmed by a feeling of harmony.

Beneath his clothing she could feel that she had aroused him and let the core of her own pleasure press against his sculpted muscular thigh. The world slipped away as two lovers kissed on a bridge at the heart of the great city. Still caressing her cheek, his lips traced the line of her delicate nose and kissed the closed lids of her eyes with such gentle passion that she groaned. He caught the sound and with his own shuddering sigh began to nibble her neck and pull her more tightly against him. She felt her legs almost buckle and let herself press helplessly against him, even more aware of his strength. He was a rock, yet a living loving rock that could give and receive love. She pushed the L word away. Love was a weight that this fragile moment could not yet carry.

“That was beyond a kiss,” he purred into her ear.

The joy of his lips on her neck still tingled through her as they returned to the car. She leaned her head on his shoulder and then on his chest as he stroked her long black hair. Feelings of warmth flooded through her. She pushed her lips through a gap in his shirt, kissing and l*****g the smooth muscle of his chest. She ran her hand along the inside of his thigh, pressing towards and teasing his desire. She knew what she wanted to do, longed to do. She knew that she could bring him to physical ecstasy and satisfy her own longing to abandon and let go.

Her body boiled with desire as he lifted her head upwards and kissed her lips, gently reaching across and letting his hand softly brush her breast. Her n****e had already tightened towards his touch as a connection fired downwards into the heat of her longing belly. She was losing control, involuntarily letting her legs slip apart, sensing her l**t mixing with his rock hard need for her. She needed his touch deep inside her. A craving gushed from her soul and connected to him through his tender kiss. Their tongues shared an ecstasy of new knowledge, hinting at everything that could flow between them.

She felt the car pull up. They were at her flat. She regained control of herself, yet she brushed his cheek with her hand as if to reassure herself that he was real.

“Coffee?” she enquired knowingly.

“Keeps me awake,” he replied in a relaxed drawl with half closed eyes.

“Too bad,” she answered, taking his hand.

Freddie opened the hatch and spoke to his driver, telling him to have an early night with his wife and to forget where he had left him. Just for emphasis he added a £50 note and gave the guy a pat on the back.

As the Cadillac powered away, Anna was glad that it was dark and he could not see the urban untidiness of her home. Inside she had created an environment, but outside, the bins and boxes of the city crowded in around her.

The lounge was tastefully understated with prints of Lempicka, Picasso and a Caravaggio. A coffee table guide to the Musée d'Orsay in Paris lay on the beige leather sofa. He pulled her to him and kissed her. The firmness of his body thrilled her as she pressed against him. She pulled back and threw off her jacket. He slipped off the shoulder straps of her dress which slid away silently to the floor.

“Que t’es belle,” he groaned, unhooking her b*a.

She pulled down on his shoulders, indicating he should sit on the sofa. As he lowered himself she leaned over him so that her breasts brushed his face. He drew a n****e into his mouth while she ran her hands back through his short cropped hair that felt like fur.

His mouth moved to her navel. She sighed with desire for him as her legs seemed to lose all strength. She wanted him now, wanted to feel him move inside her. In one smooth sweep he stood and lifted her off her feet. She felt literally possessed. The hard muscle of his arms against her back and thighs thrilled her. As his lips pressed urgently against hers, he carried her to the bedroom and lay her down on the bed. Light from the street lamps illuminated the room with an orange twilight.

She sat up and unbuttoned his shirt - at last able to touch his n***d rippled flesh. Then she released his belt, setting free the surging spring of his manhood. He quickly pulled away his clothing and lay beside her. Only her knickers remained. His lips joined hers in a gentle kiss as his hand began to stroke the moistening silk. A pulse of pure joy filled her body. Now his hand slipped inside the fabric and effortlessly threw aside her last barrier. He began to tease the apex of her inner hood while his lips moved to her breast and drew her in to his mouth. Her n*****s swelled and puckered with desire as he pulled an invisible thread through from her longing belly. She felt the rhythmic motion of his hand circling the secret petals of her bud. Her pleasure trapped her in self absorbed rapture. She opened herself to his touch and felt his teasing finger seeking out her source.

“Anna - I have to know you,” he whispered as he brought his mouth tenderly to her inner folds. She grasped his head and groaned his name as she felt his soft tongue run across her tight little button, teasing and tempting with gentle circles and deep sucking kisses.

“My sweet juicy baby,” he murmured as her tension built up and up. Despite herself she was letting go and coming against his soft lips, letting her soft juicy flesh press into him, losing herself in joy.

“My lover... you are wonderful,” he said as he pulled away and moved above her. She could see the width and power of his shoulders and ran her hands over his iron muscles. After-shocks still shuddered through her as he filled her. She let out a squeal as his strength took hold of her belly, moving in long slow thrusts. She reached behind to feel his rock-hard tireless buttocks. She bucked upwards as o****m flooded through her again. Her lips found his and he paused to caress her lips and tongue. Then his thrusts pushed into her again as waves of pleasure spilled one upon another.

She felt him begin to tense and push more and more deeply, more urgently. She pulled him into her, arching her back and coming as he let go his seed, mixing and flowing in ecstasy as one being, thrusting and drenching in waves and spasms of love and joy - as if woven together as two streams rushing and gushing into one river.

He moaned deeply as at last he lay back and she snuggled against him, her head on his rippled chest. He kissed the top of her forehead and stroked her hair. His other hand ran behind her neck and cradled her shoulder. His male scent caressed and possessed her. From the street sounds and lights hinted at an outside world. For these precious hours she felt separated and safe. Soon enough all manner of worries would have to be faced.

“I think I got carried away,” she sighed dreamily.

“You are beautiful - it’s that complicated and that simple,” he replied, squeezing her more firmly.

“Consequences...” she began.

“You wanna talk philosophy,” he teased.

“No, not now,” she whispered.

A mellow drifting silence wrapped them. She ran her hand idly over the honed ridges of his stomach, aware that she was again awakening her desire. But it was a desire mixed with tenderness. She propped herself up on an elbow and touched the scar above his eye, lowering her lips in a searching kiss. He stroked her breast as her n****e hardened and pressed against his chest. Suddenly the fear of him being injured again bubbled out of her.

“Do you have to fight again?”

“Of course.”

“Could you not pull out?”

“What the hell for - in case I get cut? I’m a boxer Anna. I fight in public for money. That’s what I do and what I have done with my life.”

Her thoughts raced. Just what did he know of the gambling or the death of the referee? Soon enough all these different worlds would collide and she could not reveal what she knew.

“A champion retires in the ring, win or lose,” he continued.

She sensed his determination and also some kind of wall within him that she could not yet penetrate.

“This Billy Brennan is dangerous isn’t he?”

“Not as dangerous as a Leyton powerboat if you do not handle it properly - so you had better instruct me my gorgeous lover,” he joked, obviously keen to steer her away from boxing.

She lay back. He seemed to sense that he had raised a barrier to her and stroked her cheek.

“Chérie - there is more to all of this than you know - more than I can tell you.”

His deep brown eyes fixed on hers and even in the dim light she could see a slight note of pleading in his expression.

“In this short time you have come into my life and things seem different now. I would like you to know everything - but this last fight must be and after there is the rest of time for us.”

She cuddled against him, aware of her pleasure as she felt the hard defined flesh of his velvety thigh. A surge of love for him ran helplessly across her mind like a cloud shadow on a field of corn. She would have to think but now was not the moment.

“You haven’t closed the boat deal,” he murmured idly.

“Let’s not talk about work,” she said as she began to kiss her way down the rippled six pack muscles of his stomach.

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