Chapter 16

Her apartment surprised Shannon. It was small with a tiny kitchenette, livingroom-bedroom combination plus bath, inexpensively furnished but neat, girlish and cozy. He nosed around. Her ancient vanity supported the usual array of perfumes, cold creams, powders, nail-polishes and sundry articles. Her closet contained a sizable display of dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes, wraps and coats; her lingerie, silks, hose and negligees were plentiful and fairly expensive. He found a man's suit, shirts, ties, several changes of underwear, pajamas and robe that were too large to belong to Tony. He grinned to himself; maybe she wasn't doing too badly after all.

Behind the bathroom door hung the inevitable douche-bag. Once more, he smiled. Tools of the trade, maybe, he mused.

Back in the main room he looked about for pictures but found none. In a small desk drawer he discovered a bank-book and noted that the last deposit was less than a week previous. The balance showed a little more than eighteen-hundred dollars... Well now, that did shed a brighter light on things. So... there was his stake, all in nice round even figures... and just about enough. Things were looking better and better with every passing minute.

There was cold coffee in a pot resting on the small stove and he heated it; he was sitting in the one easy chair enjoying a cup when he heard the foot-falls approaching along the hallway outside, the key rattling in the lock and the door popping open with a certain angry vigor. She filled the opening with a decided vision of loveliness, her lack of surprise at seeing him there indicating that she had been advised of his presence by the bribed building superintendent. She banged the door closed behind her and stood looking at him questioningly.

"What the devil is this? I have no brothers," she lied, spitting the words at him in fractured English with strong French overtones. "And I'm damned sure that I don't know you. What do you want... who are you, eh?"

Shannon smiled and arose casually, setting the cup on the table beside him. She was lovelier than Tony's picture had portrayed her... taller, more delicate of feature and darker of eye. A minute appraisal caused him to speculate that her natural hair would better enhance her beauty than the bleached gold, but he liked the way it fell around her shoulders and the light touch of lip-rouge to her sensitive, wide, full mouth. The rest of her instigated a little hitch in his breathing that he struggled with, aware that the short, green minisheath she wore was accentuating sex in the manner its designer had intended.

"The name is Shannon," he said finally. "I'm a friend of Tony."

She tilted her head questioningly. "Tony? I don't know any..." She hesitated. "You mean, Antoine... my husband, Antoine?"

Shannon nodded. "Antoine to you... Tony to me." He smiled. "We've been... shall we say... associates for some time. Got to be pretty close friends. Nice kid, Tony..."

"He's a coward and a bastard!" she snapped bitterly. "I want to forget that I ever knew him... or any of his friends. Now, you can get out of here, eh?"

She wheeled around, jerked open the door and stepped to one side, holding it ajar for him. Shannon walked to it, a trace of the smile still playing around his mouth.

"Okay, baby," he said calmly, easing the doorknob from her grasp and closing it once more. "So... old Tony's a coward and a bastard. Fine... any way you want it..." He gazed at her, still appraising, his hard blue eyes raking her soft luscious body with obvious salaciousness. "But he sure knows how to choose lovely women... and evidently win them."

"So?" she said, without a trace of emotion. "Just what the hell do you want, M'sieu... whatever-your-name is? Did Antoine send you here... ? Or maybe you want a handout... or could it be a little female companionship? Whatever, you've come to the wrong place..."

Shannon felt his face reddening before her acrid, biting words. He studied her. Christ, she was a delightful creature, unbelievably tempting when she was angry; he could only guess what it would be like if she willingly gave herself to a man, but she had yet even to smile at him; his cock jerked uncontrollably in his pants. The essence of her perfume reached him and suddenly the blood throbbed in his temples; he felt the hot perspiration oozing onto his forehead and upper lip, coating even the palms of his hands. He was that close to her that he could reach out and crush her to him; he had to steel himself... fight the almost overwhelming desire. The time wasn't right as yet; there were still several other things to be attended to, first.

Madeleine read the obvious lust in his eyes, in the twist of his not unhandsome mouth, and she'd noted the stirring at the front of his trousers. Her pink tongue-tip peeked out to moisten her full, lower-lip subconsciously. The aftermath of her lack of fullfillment with Julian Forrest was still very much in evidence in her own denied loins, but the fact that this intruder was a friend of Antoine's and the brazen manner in which he had gained entrance into her apartment tarnished the luster of any sensual thoughts that passed through her brain. She heard herself half- sneer. "Don't let your animal instincts run away with you, M'sieu'! I come rather high... two hundred dollars... even to my husband's vile friends."

It wasn't what she'd said, but the way she had said it that cut Shannon. He felt his mouth curving contemptuously and he had all he could do to contain himself from slapping her hard. Somehow, he kept control; reached beyond her to shoot the bolt on the door into its catch; then he walked back to the chair.

"Sit down," he ordered flatly, not looking at her. "I've got a deal for you."

Madeleine didn't move. Her antagonism at his uninvited, unwelcomed and unwanted presence was causing her to churn furiously within... this along with the unsated little prurient sensations that Julian Forrest had aroused and sadistically left to torment her still excited and needing loins was both infuriating and confusing her... in fact, she felt as if she might just burst out crying. She bit at her lower lip and said: "I'm not interested in any deals you have to offer..."

"You will be when you hear this one," said Shannon in a confident monotone, still not looking at her. He found cigarettes, extracted one and held the package out to her. She ignored the gesture and he lighted his own. "I'm talking about money, baby... much, much money..." He let smoke from his lungs while his hard blue eyes focused on her once more. "Enough for you to get your kid back and take care of the both of you the rest of your lives... Interested now?"

Madeleine had not shifted her glance from him nor moved since he'd closed and bolted the door. Now, in the wake of his words, she stared at him with widening eyes, adding a third dimension to her sudden frustrated emotions... astonishment. She said: "How do you know about... about my child?"

Shannon smiled thinly. "Her name is Igat. She is five years old, and you were seventeen when she was born. Her father was an American salesman named Keel from Boston with whom you spent one night... trading your young virginal charms for his promise to take you with him to the states... but he immediately deserted you. When Igat was born you allowed a certain drunken Doctor Carey, who, incidentally, delivered you, to place the child in the home of Rafael and Madame Girarde here in Montreal." He continued to smile. "Stop me if I'm wrong," he said.

She didn't speak... couldn't!

"You came to Montreal to be near your child, found employment waiting table and there met Antoine Poirier, adopted nephew of Gaston Larreau, the Syndicate's number-one wheel here in Canada. A real nice chap, too, this Larreau... I mean, who else would make his own nephew, adopted or whatever, president of a company that he was using to extort beaucoup dollars from the public just so he could have a fall-guy? A real benefactor, that scrum."

Madeleine could not believe it; she could only stand there and stare at him. He had practically reviewed her life in a matter of minutes...

"Want to hear more?" Shannon questioned.

She couldn't speak.

"Okay... so, you married Antoine and the two of you were making it until Uncle Gaston threw your new husband to the wolves in Ottawa when the government turned on the heat. You went into hiding when Antoine was sent up in order to get away from Uncle Gaston, whom, unless I miss my guess, was trying to get you to play house with him. In the end, you wound up with the noble Ministre Of Gouvernment, Rafael Girarde, who not only gave you a job in one of his several night spots, but even hangs his clothes in your closet. I'd add that for this generous little favor, Girarde had arranged for you to see Igat once in awhile, just as long as you don't get out of line with the Madame, who'd probably play hell if she knew her charming husband had a mistress." Shannon sucked at his cigarette and let out smoke once more. "On top of all this, I'd guess you were operating a private little lay-business on the side... probably with an exclusive clientele... and I'd further venture that you're just getting back from doing a stroke of business of sorts. Now... how close am I to being accurate, baby... ? Or would you rather not say?"

Madeleine continued to gape at him, but with a bit more respect and less fury than she had known only moments before. Finally, she said: "I-I don't understand... Where... where did you find these things out... I mean, about my baby and the American, Keel... ?"

"From Tony, of course," Shannon replied. "A thousand nights we spent talking about it... all of it... until I came to feel that I knew you as well as he, himself, maybe, even better."

"But... but," she shook her head, confused, "He... he didn't know about Igat... at least, I didn't think he did..."

"Oh, he knew all right, Baby," Shannon assured her. "Uncle Gaston made sure he knew, and so did a little girl named Ginny Novak, Larreau's mistress... before he had her dumped into the drink... quite dead. I'm sure you remember that episode."

Madeleine shuddered; she remembered all right. She shook her head, as if to rid herself of the horrible memory. Momentarily, she swayed slightly and the room seemed to waver before her. Shannon read the symptoms, arose quickly and caught her by the arms, helping her to a straight-back chair beside the small kitchen table. He eased her down onto it and watched her erect full breasts rise and fall as she breathed in short measured gasps.

"You have any brandy?" he asked her, taking her wrist between his big hands and chafing them.

"B-Bourbon... in the cupboard," she said, pointing with a nod of her head.

He found it and poured substantially into a waterglass, handing it to her. Madeleine sipped, then lay back in the chair, stretching out her long shapely legs, the tiny skirt of her dress hardly covering two-inches of her full and rounded nylon-encased thighs as she slumped downward into the seat. He swallowed tightly, his eyes locking on the tiny wisp of sheer white panties that V'd tightly at her enticing crotch above the juncture where the soft, warm white flesh of her thighs brushed each other. He forced himself to turn away, then poured a lengthy measure of the liquor into a glass and downed it. When he turned around again she had raised herself up and adjusted her dress.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"O-Oui... I think so." She let off a long sigh and rubbed her hand over her forehead. "P-Please, M'sieu' Shannon... sit down..."

But he didn't; instead, he stood there, his eyes moving over her, stripping her hungrily, a certain lasciviousness that she had not seen before coming to light in them. Once more, she felt a tiny shudder creep over her. She watched him wet his dry lips with his tongue and saw his hands clenching and unclenching slowly, as the stirring began at the front of his trousers again.

"You... you spoke of a deal... and much money," she managed, realizing suddenly that the magnetism of his obvious arousal was generating its silent communication like an electric current, immediately provoking her own unfulfilled desire once more. "Wh-what did you mean... ?"

He took two steps toward her and stopped, holding out his hand; he was so close to her that if she dropped her eyes from his face they would be level with the swollen, throbbing member in his pants. Her breathing shortened as automatically she gave him her hand and he said: "That can wait... this can't... not another damned agonizing minute."

Madeleine gasped as he placed her hand against the rock- hardness of his prick and an uncontrollable tingle of excitement rippled through her. My God! Had she become that much of a slut that she couldn't control herself at the mere touch of a man's erect penis? What kind of bitch am I becoming... ? Her brain reeled, much as had the room itself only a few moments before...

"P-Please... no..." she stammered, trying to pull her hand free and get to her feet, but he held her hand fast against the outline of his jerking cock and drew her up tight to him, crushing her full pointed breasts into his chest.

"Five years..." he hissed between his strong, white teeth, his breath hot against her face, "five long years since I've had a woman... and I'm going to fuck you, lovely Madeleine, if it's the last thing I ever do in this lifetime. You hear?"

He kissed her then, his mouth slamming down brutally against her own soft wet one, engulfing her lush ruby-like lips entirely within his own, his tongue knifing out to slice between her lips and against her teeth savagely, his big hot hands immediately finding the firm, fleshy moons of her buttocks to clutch and knead lustfully, while her hand imprisoned between them was filled with the growing hardness of his long thick jumping shaft as he ground his pelvis ravenously into the softness of her belly and loins.

Madeleine couldn't hold back the little gasps she emitted into his mouth, while the lewd promise he had just made her ricocheted wildly about in her brain, along with the undeniable masculine assurance of the pledge she held in her hand... and suddenly she was stroking and caressing it in her rekindled passion and anticipation. God, she wanted it... had to have it to quench the tormenting flames Julian Forrest had left burning inside her.

Finally, he raised his head and whispered: "Just one thing, Angel... I thing you're going to have to put these on the cuff... and I do mean these... because I'm going to fuck you from now right straight through until sometime tomorrow... until neither of us has enough energy to move a muscle... not one fucking muscle... then, we'll talk some business..."

"Oh... Oh, God, Cheri!" Madeleine whimpered, pressing her mouth up tightly against his while simultaneously her hand squeezed his throbbing cock and her tiny tongue searched his mouth excitedly. "Oui, Oui! Please... I want you to... I want you to... but, we will do it my way, eh? Let me make you happy. You've waited so long... and now it must be wonderful for you... such beautiful love-making that you'll never forget it... ever, ever..."

"Christ!" Shannon gasped, his prick aching and dancing to the soft massaging caresses of Poirier's wife's hand until he was certain he'd cum in his pants if she didn't stop. "What the hell are we waiting for? Get those godamned clothes off..."

Now, she smiled at him for the first time and he felt as if he were going to melt at the splendor of the sight. "No, Cheri, no... not like that," she was saying as she half freed herself and led him over to the chair. She pressed him down into it and stood before him. "It mustn't just be a tearing off of our clothes and going at each other. Please... let me make it beautiful for you... as it will be for me, if only you will let me... ?"

Shannon was breathing like a rutting moose. His prick stuck out in his pants with the prominence of a center tent-pole. He stared at the unbelievably enchanting girl before him, skeptically. Whatever in hell had come over her, he didn't know or understand, only that it was almost too fantastic to be true... like some kind of dream, and God knows, he'd had enough of those the past few years... but he could wait that much longer... as long as she wasn't trying to pull something... like run outside and start screaming rape... Christ, he'd kill her if she tried anything like...