Chapter 20

Dawn was brightening the skies in the east when they drove away from the Keele residence. Behind the wheel, Jack Heath maneuvered their convertible in a firm-lipped silence, while his young wife rested with her lovely head lying back against the upholstered seat, her eyes staring dreamily off toward the glow of the new-born day. She was either exhausted or high, he couldn't decide which, but in either case, the satiated expression of fulfillment on her beautiful face only added to the bitter ire churning in his guts since Maggie had tuned in on their licentious six-a-neuf performance hours before. The deceitful bitch... she'd been conning him all along... "Oh darling I could never go all tile way and let you cum there..." The lousy little liar! How many other cocks had she sluttishly drained of their cum in their own crowd and lied about it? And why the big denial? That was part of it, wasn't it... no sexual hang-ups... and whatever, always the come-clean truth between them after... no secrets?

Damn her... damn her! If he didn't love her so much it wouldn't matter, but he did, though for the life of him, at that moment, he couldn't imagine why. Had Maggie... that spellbinding, wanton woman... Christ, she'd all but sapped the goddamned marrow from his bones... but had she only agreed and joined him in making Carol's and Max's suck-circus a foursome, he'd have gotten in a few licks of vengeance that his loving wife wouldn't have forgotten right away, and there wasn't a damn thing she could've done about it. They could ill-afford to blow the scene after coming this far... at least, that's the way he'd felt about it then, but now he wasn't so sure. The trigging cost was beginning to look all out of proportion to the end gains. Christ, he loved her, the beautiful blonde vixen... at least, he wanted to, but... goddamnit, now he was so fucking confused... !

Of course, it wasn't too late for her to make a clean breast of it all, the way they had always done with the capitol crowd after a "swapmeet." And if she came right out and told him she'd sucked the lecherous bastard to completion, and it was the first time she'd ever gone the whole route, then he'd believe her... believe her because he wanted to. But damnit, she wasn't saying a word, hadn't since they'd climbed into the car. He glanced over at the manner in which she was still almost languorously slouched in the seat, her head lying back, the slightly spread position of her shapely long legs with the smooth white flesh of her rounded thighs carelessly revealed beneath her hitched up mini-skirt. His limply drained penis responded with an aching, uncontrollable lurch, but then the expression of sensual contentment on her lovely face immediately doused that spark.

Angrily, he hit the accelerator. He had to unwind somehow, or blow wide-open. Maybe it was the joints of hash Max Keele had broke out to settle them all down just before they left that was responsible for her mien of satiated tranquillity. She was high; he was, he knew, and damn, he was grateful for that under the circumstances...

"Don't drive so fast, Jack," she said without looking at him, her tone of voice nearly emotionless.

He glanced at her again and saw that she hadn't moved from her provokingly supine position "Well, glad to know that you're still with me," he edgily replied. "I was beginning to think you were still up on a cloud with that lecherous sonofabitch we humbly refer to as our boss."

"You sound terribly vindictive, darling," she said, her soft intonation unchanged. "Didn't your end of the party go so well?"

Goddamn, for two-cents he'd backhand her right across the teeth; he was a roaring furnace inside... Keep cool... keep cool... ! "I didn't intend that it would," he lied, struggling to keep his voice calmed. "Remember, we had a purpose?"

"And I think we accomplished it," she said, dreamily. "Anyway, we'll know better tonight won't we."

"You sound as if you might be looking forward to it with vigor," he snapped, worming his way with an angry recklessness through the sparse, early morning traffic.

"Well aren't you?" she questioned, raising her head for the first time to look over at him.

"Depends what phase of the program you're referring to, Mrs. Heath," he replied, sensing her unwavering stare measuring him. "Personally, I went into this arrangement for the monetary reward, not the entertainment en passant."

"I-I don't think I like your inference, Jack," Carol managed, a qualmy tightness knotting in her belly as she straightened in the seat and tugged demurely at her tiny skirt. God, was she wearing the sensuous feelings Max had aroused in her that openly? It must be the pot. She had to get hold of herself... !

"Was I inferring? Or could it be that I struck a vein of guilt in your conscience, my love?"

"A-A vein of guilt... !" she half-choked, as much angered by his tacit question as she was flustered by her own lack of emotional camouflage. God, she had never intended that he would know... not really know... or was he just making little green- eyed stabs in the dark? She had to bluff her way now... ! "Just what in hell are you trying to get at, Jack Heath?"

"Oh shit, Carol! Let's not play games, eh? I know you, remember... your husband, the guy you sleep with when you're not tied up for the night?" he spat, immediately sorry for the latter, unfair barb, but for one brief second his jealous rage had nearly gotten the better of him. Quickly, he added with a wry sneer: "My loving wife, the straight girl with all the inhibitions!"

Carol sensed the blood flushing hotly into her cheeks, a short-lived wave of apprehensive shame and guilt washing through her. My God, he had to know, but how? Had he seen her... watched them from some voyeuristic advantage... or was he still just stabbing out wildly? All right, it was his move! She'd be damned if she would make any open confessions!