Chapter 1

It wasn't anything like the modern little bungalow they'd had on Jamey Halo's estate up at Quarrysite, but she wasn't going to allow herself to become depressed over that, Susan Sheldon mused sullenly. It was clean and fairly well furnished; besides, moving had been her own idea; Jamey, had wanted them to stay, rent free, but with Cal gone such a thing was out of the question. She could only imagine what the Parksburg gossips would have made out of that... and probably with good cause, for certainly she could feel herself weakening more each time she saw him. She'd had to consider Nadine and her future... consider the bitter scars that wicked tongues could leave on the mind of a delicate and beautiful young girl... and she had made her decision accordingly.

Susan sat at the small kitchenette table drinking coffee and smoking her first morning cigarette. She wore a light blue wrapper over matching pajamas, its tailored-design doing little to hide her willowy Eurasian beauty, her erect breasts, slender waist, full rounded hips and buttocks. A voyeur would have to guess at the sleek lushness of thigh, the enchanting contour of calf and the hidden strength of those long, smooth legs, but he would form his prurient conclusions from the dazzling loveliness of her finely featured face and long, raven-black oriental hair... feeling confident in his assumptions.

It was six-thirty and she hadn't been able to sleep; in fact, the whole night had been a fiasco that she laid to her troubled, fear-filled and frustrated thoughts, the unfamiliar, too-soft bed, plus, having her daughter as a sleeping partner in place of Cal.

She shook her lovely head in disbelief. Would she ever get used to it? Cal was dead! My God, it hardly seemed possible... Cal dead... a suicide... in his grave two-months now, yet, each time the realization raced through her mind, its impact was as shocking as when Chief Archer had first broken the horror to her. It hadn't made sense then, her husband of sixteen years shooting himself, and she doubted that it ever would anymore than the typewritten note he had left, explained his reasoning.

Can't make it. Nothing to live for. It's too complex... and there's no love...

Once more, Susan slowly wagged her exotically beautiful head in non-conviction; she was so damned confused. Life at its best had never been generous to her, but at least she'd had Cal... for what that had been worth. She looked around at the little three- room apartment, each chamber opening with large archways into the other, only a collapsible screen partitioning off the bed. Thank God the bathroom was private, anyway, she thought sarcastically.

She'd hoped to find something more acceptable within her limited budget, but after canvassing Parksburg, she'd been almost happy to take this third-floor makeshift that had once been part of a rather plush hotel suite, and in the center of the down-town area. Progress had eliminated the hotel and now the street-level consisted of second-rate, low-rent shops; but, at least it was closer to her work, she supposed, and really it was adequate for just the two of them.

Nadine, poor darling, she'd been so brave through all of it, more adult than child, more sister than daughter... beautiful, talented, a rare teenager, indeed, measured by today's standards. And she was going to have a future; she was! Even her father had wanted that for her in his sober moments, but he'd done little, if anything, to prove it to her. Not that he'd been intentionally cruel, nor physically brutal; he'd simply neglected her... neglected both of them, in fact, since the day their baby-girl had drawn her first breath in that Boston hospital; but the last five- years had been the worst, especially the final two that he'd worked as caretaker for Jamey Halo, and she herself, had fallen under the spell of the young TV actor.

Thinking, she wondered if her husband hadn't shot himself, if he might not have drunk himself to death at the rate he was going... and with never a thought or provision for his wife and daughter. Now, as she pondered over that, she couldn't help but tremble with the overwhelming fright of her sudden responsibilities. Except for their clothing, he had left them near- destitute, and once again she thanked the good Lord for her job. Of course, it wasn't much, prestige-wise... waitress work never was... but it was honest employment and the Diamond Dell was the finest dinner house in Parksburg, even if it was only a front for the gambling casino Max Bovino operated upstairs. Whether the once notorious blind- owner functioned within the law was not her concern, and it didn't seem to bother the elite country-club set who populated the haven nightly... but she was concerned with the additional money the girls 'upstairs' made hustling cocktails, in comparison to those serving dinner on the first-floor, and she had made up her mind to speak to Mr. Bovino about it. In a little while, she would call him.

Why not? it was easier work, probably more pleasant, and accordingly, more rewarding. Of course, Cal would never have allowed it; he'd always been an extremely jealous man... although God knows, she had never given him any reason to be... But Cal was gone... and she had Nadine to look to now... only her future mattered... all other things were secondary... Cal was dead! Susan wiped an uncontrollable little tear from her eye.

They were large eyes, dark and almond shaped, long-lashed and oriental, a breathtaking contrast to her ivory complexion. She couldn't help but wonder if she would ever unravel the mysteries that enshrouded her dead husband... for surely, they existed, deep and complex she thought; she had never really known the soldier she'd married...

She'd been fifteen and they'd lived just outside of Seoul. Her father was native Korean, a farmer of some wealth, and her mother the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She was French, from Paris no less, and she'd come from her country in a missionary capacity. It was still vague in her mind how they had met, her father and mother, but it had something to do with God.

She had been twelve when the war struck, fourteen when Sergeant Cal Sheldon stole her heart, fifteen when her father blessed them and they married. The war was over and she was pregnant. They'd sailed for the U.S. two-days before her parents were killed by a latent, terrorist-bomb, and the government had confiscated everything. Less than eight-months later, Cal had dragged her from a hospital bed in Boston some twelve hours after giving birth to Nadine, and driven them to New York State. She would never forget the expression of fear that warped his face that night, and now, thinking about it, she wondered if it had ever really left him. Somehow, she had held the baby in her arms, nursed her and kept her wits, while her husband raced their automobile through the darkness.

Yes... dear God, yes there were mysteries... but they were hardly of importance now, were they? Cal was dead... DEAD... DEAD!

Nadine made a small sleeping noise behind the screen. It raised a warm feeling of love inside Susan and she smiled tenderly to herself. Her voluptuous fifteen-year old daughter was her whole life... at least, she had been... prior to Jamey Halo... not that there was going to be any change because of Jamey and the uncontrollable feelings she had for him; Nadine would always come first, but she couldn't deny the near-love, or whatever it was, he had set aflame inside her... she could merely resist it, and that she would do.

Susan sipped at her coffee, then dragged on the cigarette. Really, it was ridiculous anyway, given a moment of sensible thought. Jamey Halo was nineteen... nineteen... and she, thirty-one. This wasn't Korea, where such marriages were sanctioned out of experience rather than love.

This was the U.S., where older women never fell in love with younger men, unless they were fools, Jet-setters, or harlots... and she felt that she hardly fitted into any of the three categories.

Yet, from the very beginning, from the first day Cal had taken the caretaker's job on Jamey's estate, the galvanic sensations had passed between them. He'd stopped her as she was carrying boxes into their bungalow and smiled.

"I'm Jamey Halo," he'd said. He had grinned lopsidedly, his dark hair long and waved. His eyes were an azure-blue and filled with tiny hazel flecks that began to swirl excitedly as he spoke. "Can I carry that

"Thank you, no," she'd replied, dropping her own gaze from his probing stare, sensing the slight flush to her face; then, Nadine had come with a smaller box and Susan had welcomed the interruption.

But it had never changed. She had only to look into his desire-filled, handsome young face to feel her own unwanted, sensual passion rising, and it seemed that he'd managed to come to the bungalow always when Cal was elsewhere. He had even made over Nadine, who, at thirteen was the flowering equivalent of most girls three years her senior, and this, she felt certain, he did only to impress the mother. Still, nothing had come of it... simply because the mother had refused to let it. Cal was her husband and she belonged to him, regardless of his lack of affection. Her oriental upbringing would never permit infidelity; she would give her life for her husband, and she would die defending her loyalty to the vows she had taken.

Again, Susan heard a light stir behind the screen, waited silently, and was pleased at the sound of an even, deep breathing once more. Her darling was going to need all the rest she could get, with what was before her. Beauty contests were more strenuous than the average girl believed, both mentally and physically, but there was nothing that would add to necessary confidence more than a few beauty contest credits to an aspiring young actress, even if one was only Miss Parksburg. Jamey had inspired the idea, and both Nadine and she herself had been elated with it. After all, she had to start somewhere... and success wasn't easily come by, Jamey had reminded them, and Susan didn't ever want her beautiful daughter to find herself in the same position her mother was in at that very moment. She had, in fact, welcomed the idea with open arms; it meant a sound and exciting existence for her darling... if only she didn't get waylaid by some foolish puppy-love.

Thinking about that, Susan shivered with the cold little ripple of clamminess that passed over her. She drank from her cup and inhaled the cigarette smoke deeply. Sex, she thought... sex between her husband and herself had been a horror, when she had so innocently expected some thing beautiful. Now, she tried to recall the exquisite loveliness of her mother's words regarding the delicious sexual-love of marriage... but somehow, they choked in her throat, and the beauty of the vision she had endeavored to picture became distorted.

Had it ever been beautiful between them... even good? She couldn't remember a time. Instead, her mind filled with Cal, drunk, his wickedly hard and massive, thick, long male member poised above her unready and unwanting vagina, her legs held high and wide-apart obscenely, knees pressing into her full, erect breasts, while he cradled himself for the impalement... then, the near- unbelievable viciousness of his thrust as he plunged his huge rapacious cudgel into her barely moist, sensitive flesh unmercifully.

Invariably, she would scream, and invariably he would laugh sadistically, ramming the blunt head like a madman from the very beginning, his heavy-veined rod of rigid, swollen flesh sinking to its full depths inside her snug passage and battering her small- mouthed womb and cervix, until the pain would become almost weirdly bearable, even pleasurable in her masochistic, subjugated state, and sparks of excitement would begin to ignite within her; then, it would be over... al ways over, like that... and he would gush into her as she wanted him to... but never, never so soon.

Dear God... she would suck him the way he had taught her, while he pillaged her genitals with his tongue, and forever, she had felt certain that this time it would happen... but then he would shoot his hot, white, sweet-tasting sperm into her mouth and throat, and momentarily she wouldn't care. His ejaculation had been all that she'd waited for, just as when he placed it in her rectum... or between her breasts and she would slip her warm lips over its massive head when he was ready to cum.

Damn! What was she doing? She was working herself up into something by just thinking, that's what she was doing. She'd better get hold of her self. She took a long pull from her cigarette, following that with a draught of coffee. Really, if she wanted to face it, Jamey's visit last night was the inspiration. He'd come to see the apartment he'd said, and with Nadine off to the movies, it had nearly happened. She'd had all she could do to keep from giving in, and even then, it had gone way beyond what she'd promised herself.

She hadn't expected anyone and had just bathed. She was getting out of the tub when the knock came, and had quickly tossed her favorite, old chenille robe around her, tying it tight and assuring herself it was close around her throat. Her mid-back- length hair she had piled onto the crown of her head and she wore a towel wrapped strategically around it. She had felt like an idiot answering the door that way, but the caller was insistent with his knuckles and she'd responded just a bit irked, wondering if this new down-town location was going to bring them all of the door-to- door salesmen in the world.

"Jamey! Wh-what're you doing here?" Her delightful smile was automatic. "I-I obviously didn't expect anyone... let alone you."

"Obviously," he grinned. "Well... aren't you going to ask me in? I came to see the new abode."

"Y-Yes... yes, of course, come in," she stammered, still surprised at the sight of his presence, but more embarrassed with her own appearance. "I-I just took a bath...

"Oh? If I'd known, I'd have come earlier... maybe even have gotten to wash your back," he said, moving inside as she closed the door behind him. He was still smiling. He watched the tinge of blood rush into her cheeks, an easily detected sight with her alabaster like skin, and one that always delighted him.

Hell, she was absolutely stunning, he thought. Of all the women he had ever seen, known, and made love to in his prime young existence, she had to be the most beautiful and desirable. His brain raced wildly. What a stupid bastard Cal Sheldon had been. He'd plucked a gem and traded it for a poor facsimile. And Jamey'd thought that Elaine Trent represented beauty when he'd laid her at the Roadhouse... but Christ, there was no comparison. Thirty- one? She looked younger than her own daughter!

"Why don't you sit down, Jamey, while I slip on something..." she was saying, still embarrassed by his unexpected call.

"I'd rather help you," he said, making no move toward accepting her offer to a chair. "As a matter of fact, I prefer you remain as-is. You're lovely when you're natural, Susan... but then, you're always lovely."

It seemed that the redness wouldn't leave her cheeks. She couldn't remember when she'd ever felt quite so embarrassed, nor quite so excited.

Dear God, he was young and handsome! And the wickedness of it was, that she never felt her superior age with him... but more like a teen-ager, or maybe it was that he became older, more mature, when he was with her.

"You're at your best tonight, I see," she heard herself say, surprised at her own repartee. She smiled. "Can I fix you a drink?"

"If I can help."

"You can't. Sit in that chair and I'll play hostess," she said, pretending firmness.

"On one condition... you don't run off and slip something on," he said, grinning, his blue eyes alive with swirling bits of obvious lust that were sparking unbelievable tiny sensations inside her.

It had always been the same, every time they were together, but tonight... hell, he had to have her, or go out of his mind, he decided emphatically.

Susan could hardly control her trembling. Dear God, she hoped it wasn't noticeable. She even felt wet down between her legs, and he hadn't been in the room two minutes.

"Sit!" she ordered, half-smiling.

"No changes?"

"No changes... at present, anyway."

She went to the kitchen, an open view from where he sat in the one comfortable chair, and talked back over her shoulder.

"Nadine's gone to the movies with Ann Trent," she said, pulling the ice-tray from the refrigerator. "I thought a little change of mental ideas would do her good."

"She should make a habit of studying movies the acting... the same with TV," he said.

"I've talked to my old teacher about taking her. He's hip to the idea. He thinks she sounds like great material... and I can tell you that Eben Lang is one of the best. Expensive, but the best."

Susan paused in her concocting and turned to look through the shell of her apartment to where he sat. "What do you mean, expensive?"

He laughed. "Like money, baby. But don't worry, we'll see to that. Let's have her get a couple of these beauty things behind her first, and maybe some high school acting."

"She's all enthused about the acting idea, Jamey," Susan said. "She talked to her school drama teacher and he wants her to try out for the next play."

"Great... great," he said, his mind a million miles from his words. "That's what she needs... any and all kinds of experience. Damn, he'd stake his life that she had the most beautiful legs he'd ever not seen... and she was naked beneath that robe. She'd just gotten out of the bath... she had to be! Shit, he could cum right in his shorts thinking about it. His prick was half-hard and he hadn't laid a hand on her. In fact, now that he thought about it, when had he touched her, except by accident? Only yesterday, when they'd moved, she'd let him kiss the sheer white-skin of her cheek where those blue-veins in their almost- transparent beauty, intrigued him. And he'd hardly slept all night. Christ, there'd never been a woman like her, not in his life, anyway...