Phoenyx: Flesh & Fire Read Online Free PDF

wasn’t keen on animals but I had managed to persuade her, due to him being so quiet and also quite good at keeping the rodent population down, as proven by his years with us back on the farm.
    I gathered him up onto my shoulder and walked with him through to the bedroom where I placed the shopping bags on the bed. I could hardly even hold the cat properly and, scared that I might drop him; I set him down on the window ledge and opened the shutters onto the balcony. Down below, the people of Old Berlin came and went as they always did. I sat there in my basket chair at the window for an hour, chin in my hands, gazing away dreamily at the traffic while Boris snoozed in the window box. I still felt scared, yet now in a good way – an invigorating way – a roller-coaster fairground kind of way. Olivia and I had shared something new and wonderful, something I still couldn’t define. I knew it was nothing I’d be able to speak to my mother about, so I would have to figure it out by myself, in my own time.
    Eventually I turned back towards the room and looked at the big paper bags sitting on the bed, now more inviting – calling to me, enticing me. It was time to try those wonderful things on again.
    I stripped and danced in front of the mirror, like I used to do at home. Except now I was imagining Olivia there with me, not any film star or racing driver, and I was moving for her, and for a public audience. I felt her warm breath on my neck and in my ear, her fingers and tongue inside me, and I started to drip and moan all over again. In the end I threw myself face-down over the bed and rubbed myself raw while imagining her there beside me, beneath me, all over me, doing those goddess-like things with her tongue while I wrapped her hair into braids and pulled them like bell-ropes.
    I gushed my pleasure on the blankets, on the floor, on the rug, and my hands were dripping when I finished my chain reaction of climaxes. I had no sooner finished washing them in the bathroom when I heard a knock on the door. I grabbed the bathrobe from its peg and went down the hallway to the spy hole. It was Mrs. Groenenberg.
    “Hello?” I asked, peering around the side of the door. I was just able to keep the black lace and satin frills out of sight, just in case she made the assumption that I was a prostitute or something, and carrying on illicit and illegal activities on her premises.
    “Yes, hello,” she said in her brusque and hoarse voice. “A small matter of rent that we agreed upon, still unpaid. Yes?”
    “Rent?” I had totally forgotten about that. What a horrible, mundane thing to have to contemplate in the midst of my most exotic, exciting daydream ever.
    I batted my eyelashes to signify that I was confused, but she wasn’t accepting that as a viable excuse and waited patiently for a real answer. Boris went running out between us at that point. He was having none of the argument which threatened, and would return when the coast was clear. I nearly shouted him to come back, when I realized that he’d do better for himself hunting outside, than in the house with me – as I had totally forgotten to stock up on cat food that week. The whole business at the Kitty Klub had turned my brains inside out and my life upside down. Being bought so many lunches had made me forget that I was less well-off than the mice which lived behind the kitchen walls, and all the charity had similarly left Boris to snack on scraps and whatever he could catch. Suddenly I felt very guilty and selfish, a stumbling idiot who ought not to have been left to fend for herself. The cosmic order of the universe surely dictated that my mother would already be on her way to find me. She would batter my door down, grab me by the hair and hugger-mugger me all the way back home before I caused any more damage to myself and those around me.
    “Oh, yes, of course,” I giggled, trying hard not to sound as though I’d totally forgotten all about it. “I’ll get it