The Key Read Online Free PDF Page B

to a landing at the top. There were several doors there, and he chose the one straight ahead. He opened it, snapped his finger and thumb again, and subtle light from Tiffany lamps on the nightstands infused the room.
    His king-size was between two large windows. Covered in pure white bedding, it looked comfortable. The headboard was a mahogany carved affair with large balls on the tops of the posts. I thought of my neighbour, Mr Big Bollocks, and blurted, “Do you have swollen balls?”
    “Pardon?” he said, rearing his head back a bit and widening his eyes.
    “I am sorry. My mouth works before I think. I have a neighbour. He is always out in his garden when I come along. His…lower region is swollen. I think he… It does not matter what I think.”
    “It does to me, but I imagine, when he sees you, he can’t help but swell.”
    That was the biggest compliment anyone had ever given me and I puffed out my chest with pride. “Thank you.”
    “Most welcome. And for your information”—he leant forward to put his mouth by my ear—“that’s why we had to leave The Plough. I was becoming…swollen.”
    “Mon Dieu!” I said, having no idea what it meant but thinking it appropriate after hearing it on a TV show. “I had no clue…”
    “Now you do,” he whispered, breath hot on my neck.
    A shiver went down my spine then on to my suddenly excited clit. I had become swollen too, and the swiftness of it surprised me. “Yes, I do,” I whispered, at a loss for anything else to say. I stepped away to give myself some breathing space, time to think on where this should go next. He was gaining the upper hand, and I wanted it back, so I snapped out, “Get on the bed, David Thompson.”
    He smiled, gave me a dose of that amused expression again, and walked to his bed, placing his glass on the nightstand. With a quick look at me, and appearing completely at ease, he climbed onto the bed, settling himself in the middle, arms behind his head. He was elevated slightly by a mound of pillows, able to see me well enough. His tongue of a tie slewed to one side, the end hiding between his body and arm, and a lock of his hair flopped across his forehead.
    “What are you going to do next?” he asked, crossing his legs at the ankles.
    “You will see.” I paused, blinking slowly and licking my lips. “In fact, I will tell you. I am going to perform a striptease.”
    “Oh, Christ,” he said.
    My thought exactly… What am I playing at?
    He positioned himself in a more upright position. “This I have got to see.”
    I smiled, gazed at him from beneath lowered eyelashes, going for the seductive look. Whether or not I pulled it off was anyone’s guess, and I didn’t have time to worry about it now. Slowly, I shrugged, thinking my raincoat would just slide off my shoulders with ease. The stubborn bugger remained where it was, and I shrugged again, twice in quick succession, until it began its descent. Once it had fallen away to the floor, I glided my fingertips down my jacket lapels then discarded that in the same way as the raincoat.
    “We have no music,” he said, voice gravelly and low.
    “That does not matter. I shall make some.” I twirled around, praying my arse looked enticing beneath the short skirt. Spun the Rolodex in my mind for an appropriate song. Jane Smith would have chosen something lovey-dovey, a romantic ballad, but Chantal needed something with more oomph. Something I could really dig on down to. I couldn’t think what to warble. Then I opened my mouth and sang, “I hazz a bit butt and I cannot lie…” I didn’t know the rest, only that the word deny came in somewhere, so took to humming the tune instead.
    I wiggled my backside then gyrated my hips, the hum coming out as more of a buzz that tickled my lips. I thought I heard David chuckle, but with the noise of that tune streaming out of me, I couldn’t be sure. I reached back to undo the button and zip of my skirt, sliding the material down my legs