Chapter 18

The streets were bright only because of the lampposts that were gleaming. She knew where she was driving; it had been a split second decision. Belle's suitcase was full and back on her bed in her room. She had packed it but left it behind. The scene she witnessed had her in a state of shock and not thinking clearly. In regard to her relationship with David she had one foot out the door and one still planted in the house with him. She was torn. The pain she felt seeing David with the other woman, knowing that he might be sleeping with her, told her that she still cared about him. But did she want to marry him? No! If he was capable of cheating on her the whole time then, no. When she was able to put her own infidelity aside and look at the broader picture she knew that he had probably been unfaithful the whole time and would probably not stop. She couldn't live that way for the rest of her life.

She drove into Jeffrey's driveway as if she had done it a million times before. It was as though the car found its own way there. When she stepped out to walk up to the door she began to fear that he wasn't home, or worse, was with another woman. She didn't think she could bear a double-blow like that in one day, especially with Jeffrey. Yes, it hurt to realize that David had been unfaithful all along but she knew she was deeply in love with Jeffrey. She didn't think she could bear to lose him.

There were lights on inside but did that just mean they were left on or the help was there? She rang the doorbell and waited, nervously straightening her pinstripe skirt and white button down blouse. The door opened to a plump woman who appeared to be in her mid fifties with wiry, salt and pepper hair. It was twisted tightly up in a bun except for a few rebellious pieces that had loosened from its confines and stood out wildly.

"Hello. My name is Annabelle Daescher. I was wondering if Mr. Winslow was available." Suddenly she felt like a child, infinitesimally small and doe-eyed, asking if a friend could come out to play. She stood before the large woman whose face went from stern to a beaming smile.

"Ahh! So you are the Belle I've heard about non-stop for some time! Come in! Come in!" she said while pulling Belle into the home by her hand. "Mr. Winslow is in his study and will be most pleased to see you." She led Belle to the formal living room. "Please. Have a seat while I fetch him for you."

The large woman's step had a bounce to it as she left Belle standing alone. She couldn't sit so she paced while studying the art work and other items on display.

Heavy footsteps could be heard behind her so she turned around and found Jeffrey approaching briskly. "Belle! I didn't expect to see you. But I'm so glad you came. Are you okay?" He stopped in front of her, making her feel so small and delicate. He gently cupped her shoulders with his large hands.

"I didn't believe you, Jeffrey. On one hand I still don't but on the other hand I do. I feel so damned arrogant to think that he wouldn't cheat on me. How messed up is that?"

"It isn't your fault that he did this, Belle. You know that don't you?"

Her eyes were studying his shoes and the floor. "I want to but I still wonder why I didn't see it. I know one thing. I absolutely need hard proof. Not to convince me so much, but I know David. The break up could be ugly if I'm not armed with it. In all your talks with the P.I. that I didn't know about," she said raising her eyes to his to make her point, "did he mention that he had photo proof?"

"Yes."

"When did he get it?"

"I tried calling you to tell you but you never answered your phone or my messages."

"Jeffrey. When did he get it?"

"Four days after we got back."

A quick intake of breath displayed her shock. "But he said he had to meet with a new client! We had been together every night before that day! How could I have been so stupid?"

"You said so yourself, you didn't want to believe it. It's time, Belle. It's time to leave him. Even if you don't want to be with me I want you to get away from that man. You deserve better than him. Promise me you'll get away from him."

"I will. I promise."

"Did you pack and move some things out today?"

"I packed but I left the suitcase back at the house. I can't tell you why I did that. Fear? Denial? I don't know. Damn it I should have taken the suitcase."

"You can't go back there tonight. I think it's best to confront him in public. I need to be sure that you're safe."

"Do you actually think he might hurt me?"

"I can't be sure he won't and that's enough to worry me."

Belle sighed. "Then I better find a hotel I suppose."

"Stay here tonight and find a hotel tomorrow." She eyed him with skepticism. "In a spare room, Belle. I'm patient. If we're to be together it can happen after the dust settles."

"Okay. I really don't want to go back to his house tonight anyway."

"Then it's settled. I'll have Maggie prep your room and then I want you to come with me to the kitchen. She made the most delicious chocolate cake. You have to try it. I don't know about you but I love chocolate and I think that Maggie just likes to spoil me."

Jeffrey was right. The chocolate cake was the most delicious one she had ever eaten. It wasn't long before she felt exhausted from the stressful night. Jeffrey had been a perfect gentleman and tried to make her feel more relaxed by joking and conversing with her.

He showed her to her room and said goodnight without as much as a kiss. She kicked off her shoes, removed her blouse then her skirt and laid them across a nearby chair. Then she slipped between the sheets, clad only in her panties and bra. She thought for sure she would have trouble falling asleep but she didn't. Sleep found her quickly.

She woke early the next morning. The clock read seven a.m. She stretched and slid out of the bed, padding her way to the adjoining bathroom. There she found a toothbrush and toothpaste and other toiletries. She started the shower and removed her bra and panties. After cleaning herself she became aware that she didn't have any other clothes and she just couldn't put the day old panties back on. She could, however put her bra and other clothes on until she could retrieve other clothes from her soon-to-be former home.

After toweling herself dry she twisted her hair up in the towel like a turban and walked back into the bedroom to dress. Only a few steps into the room she saw Jeffrey and froze. He was placing a tray on the dresser and turned to see her standing naked, but for the turban-like towel. His eyes took in the site of her naked flesh and she shivered. Was it the cool air or his eyes on her?

"God, you're beautiful. I'd love to see you every morning like that."

"Jeffrey," she replied tilting her head to the side, feeling self-conscious. Despite that the twinge in her groin was undeniable. Just his eyes on her were turning her on. The memory of his touch was thrilling her. Silently she begged him to approach her and touch her once more.

He stood there with lust in his eyes. She saw the bulge in his pants and smiled with satisfaction that she was having the same effect on him as he was on her.

Instead of waiting for him to walk to her she decided to walk to him. She wanted to take the initiative in their coupling this time. After walking up to him her hands quickly moved to his belt and pants. The pants hit the floor and she hooked the boxers with her thumbs and pushed them down. Her body followed them as she knelt before him. She breathed in his scent mixed with soap from freshly bathing. It was a delicious and intoxicating mixture that she would love to inhale every chance she could get.

His cock filled before her eyes and she realized that looking at his engorged cock was making her wet. She squirmed slightly on her knees before sticking her tongue out and lightly pressing it to the tip. Then she swirled it around the tip, her eyes closed as she memorized every curve, ridge and sensation. Her hands were on his hips, fingers pressed to his ass cheeks. God but he was magnificent. She traced the shaft with her wet tongue encouraged by his gasps and groans. Her tongue continued south to his balls, lightly lapping at them like a cat with milk. She felt the dimples in them and the curves, the connection between the two, like a bridge. Then the trail led her back up to the tip again. She couldn't stand it anymore; she had to have it in her mouth, to feel the hard, throbbing flesh pressing against her throat and mouth.