TITLE    : Nikki, Queen of Spades Ch. 01
STORYID  : nikki-queen-of-spades-ch-01
SUMMARY  : Nikki embarks on a new life as a Queen of Spades.
AUTHOR   : JayCuck@lit
DATE     : 2018-08-10
CATEGORY : interracial-erotic-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |cuckold|hotwife|snowbunny|interracial|dom|bull|


A clear blue sky stretched to the horizons, wispy clouds added a splash of color, and a light, cool breeze played with her hair. Spring had arrived, and the Mountain Laurel trees, always beautiful, hung a few inches lower, courtesy of the large purple flowers hanging from their branches. The combination of dark green, light purple, and speckles of white, revealed a beauty that only existed a few weeks each year. The normal humidity hadn't arrived yet, and winter had released its tenuous hold. In short, the weather was perfect.



Her life however...wasn't.



A tissue, wet with tears, dabbed at the corners of her eyes. She slipped the dark glasses onto her face, as she stepped into the sunlight. The cold, sterile courthouse lay behind her, and so did the corpse of her marriage. It had lasted longer than most, her marriage, but the sound of the judge's gavel had pronounced the time of death with absolute finality. The legal process of divorce was easy, and it stood in stark contrast to the emotional hell of arriving at this moment.



"It's for the best." A low, smooth baritone voice washed over her, and an arm slid over her shoulders. "You can move on. We can move on. Together."



She loved that voice, felt grateful for its presence, but she also hated it.



Hated that he was right.



Hated to hear the truth.



Hated, most of all, that her marriage had to end in order for her to be happy. For Nick, her now ex-husband, to also be happy.



<em>It's hard to admit defeat</em>, she thought bitterly.



"Yeah."



Nicole nodded, leaned into David's body, and despite her shitty situation, she felt the familiar stirrings of lust in her body. She couldn't help it. David had that effect on her. It wasn't that he was impossibly gorgeous, he wasn't. It wasn't that he had a model-perfect body, he didn't. No, David had captured her using the largest sexual organ on the human body.



Her brain.



A successful attorney, they'd met through a mutual friend, Collin. It was a long story, and one she didn't want to think about now, but a nostalgic smile tugged her lips. Collin had been her first boyfriend, while she'd been married to her husband, Nick.



The husband she'd just divorced.



"Life has been so complicated, honey," she murmured. "I'm looking forward to simple."



"Soon," he replied. "We'll find a place in Maryland, and once I'm confirmed by the Senate, our lives will be nothing but simple."



"Promise?"



He kissed her softly. "I promise."



"Take me home," she implored. "I need you."



"Let's go."



The security personnel stood nearby, their eyes fixed everywhere but on them. The driver opened the door for her, and she slid into the limousine. The privacy window was up, effectively shutting them off from the driver. David spoke to the driver in a low voice for a few minutes, before he entered and sat next to her. Brand new, and top of the line, she barely felt the luxury vehicle pull away from the curb. She glanced out the darkly tinted window and caught a brief glance of Nick and their daughters exiting the courthouse.



"Something to drink?"



David's voice pulled her back into the limo, and she nodded jerkily at him.



"Not champagne," she snapped. He paused, glanced back and raised an eyebrow. "Vodka, please."



"Yes, ma'am" Ice clinked into a glass, and he poured a generous serving of the clear liquid. "Here you are. I'm surprised you're not drinking whiskey."



"Thank you." She took a sip, and then met his eyes. "I'll never drink whiskey again in my life. Ever."



"Honey," he said patiently. "Let it go. Your marriage produced two beautiful daughters-."



"Who hate me-"



"Who are hurt right now but love you dearly. They'll come around, and you know Nick won't allow them to hate you."



Another sip, no gulp, of vodka burned its way down her throat.



"The bitch will," she hissed.



"No," he stressed. "She won't. Now stop. Divorce isn't easy, but yours was necessary and uncontested. Don't be sad or bitter because your marriage ended, honey."



"Oh? How should I feel."



"Happy it happened," he said simply. "If you'll let go of your temper, you'll see you and Nick are still friends. Your daughters don't hate you, and you have someone who loves your dearly."



She narrowed her eyes and stared at him for several seconds, before she gave up. "Fine." A deep breath helped settle her nerves, and a final gulp of vodka relaxed her muscles. "You're right. I'll give it a few days, and then reach out to Jasmine and April."



"That's my girl."



"You love me?"



"With all my heart." His hands settled over her, and he slid closer. "Once we're in Maryland, and the hearings are over, I want you to think about our future...together."



"And the organization?"



"It won't be an issue," he said, and shook his head. "If you're married, you don't have to be active. It's our choice."



"If I'm married," she drew her words out.



"Yes," he replied and held her eyes. "I want you in my life, permanently, but I also want to ask you the right way. A queen deserves no less."



"Queen." She winked at him. "I like that title."



"It does suit you."



She slid off her seat and placed her empty glass on the bar. When she turned back, she slid over on her knees, and pushed his legs apart. "Lean back."



"Yes, my queen."



The low tenor of his bass voice caused her body to tremble, and goose bumps to break out over her skin. Then she felt it. The sense of her higher mind shutting down, and letting her primal mind assert itself. It felt great, like slipping into a warm puddle of lust, and her hands worked on his slacks until his cock sprang free. The masculine scent of cock, soap, and precum filled her nose, and she felt herself grow moist. A wave of lust caused her eyelids to lower until they were barely open, but her eyes had locked onto the thick, black member filling both of her hands.



"So good," she whispered. "Such a nice cock."



"Enough talking, Nicole."



The words were soft but underlying them was the steel she loved so much. A gentle order. One she would happy follow. A wave of submissiveness washed over her, and combined with the lust already filling her body, Nicole surrendered to her base desires.



The head was the best, and her tongue circled it several times. Precum coated her tongue and lips, and a low moan emanated from the man who now controlled her. The man she'd happily surrendered to and would soon marry. She slipped the head of his cock inside her mouth, coating it with saliva, before she pulled her head back. Again, she popped the head inside her mouth, and again, she pulled it out.



Teasing him now. He liked it, but only in small amounts.



"Get to work, Nikki. Don't make me say it again."



"Yes, sir," she purred.



The head slipped past her lips, and she let it slide over her tongue, and down her throat. David groaned, and his hand cupped the back of her head. She pulled back a bit, leaving his cock mostly in her mouth, took a deep breath, and slid his cock down her throat until his pubic hair ticked her nose. His hand clamped the back of her head, and he held her down. She'd expected his reaction, and she shifted slightly, so his cock rested more easily in her throat. Fortunately, she could hold her breath for a while, and she loved she sensation of his pulsing cock filling her throat. She hummed slightly, and her lover groaned again.



"Fuck yeah!" He removed his hand from her head, and she pulled back. "Such a good cock-sucker."



A smile split her lips, but she didn't respond. She was too far gone. Lust and submissiveness now controlled her, and she loved this sensation. She'd transformed from a grieving, recent divorcee...into a sexual animal, and only satisfying her man would transform her back.



Nicole dropped lower and ran her tongue over David's balls. A slow, gentle pressure, she felt his cock flex in response. One hand continued to stroke his shaft, and the other cupped his scrotum, while her tongue bathed it in saliva. David's breath caught for a brief second, before he left out a long sigh. She sucked his scrotum lightly, careful not to squeeze or bite his balls, and apply just enough pressure to create the pleasurable sensation she knew he loved. The scent of wet flesh filled her nose. The heady scent of messy sex, and it drew her deeper into her primal mind. Her hands found his thighs, and she raised her head back to his cock.



Their eyes met, and the slow, heated smile that spread over her lips caused an electric shock to travel down her spine. She loved this man. She needed to please him, to make him happy, and follow his direction. Her eyes returned to the granite, black shaft in her hands, and she slipped into her mouth. David was big. Even for black men, David was big...and thick, and it was his thickness that drove her wild. It had taken her some time to get comfortable with his size, but now that she had, she loved servicing his cock. It slipped down her throat again, and this time, she established a slow, sensual rhythm that slowly grew faster.



David shifted again, his breathing grew louder, and his cock flexed in her mouth. David had amazing stamina, but she sensed his control slipping. A surge of pride spiked inside her. He wasn't kidding when he said she was a good cocksucker. If anything, she was a great cocksucker, and David's impending orgasm was a testament to her skill. She continued her assault on his cock, slurping loudly, and concentrating on a steady rhythm. She wasn't sure how much time passed, but suddenly David's hand gripped her hair, and he held her in place. She took a quick breath, and his cock exploded inside her mouth.



Salty, thick cum exploded down her throat, and she swallowed reflexively. Each spurt caused a mini-orgasm in her body, and she ached for the real thing. David held her in place until he'd finished, and then released her. She sat back, wiped her lips, and smiled at her dominant.



"I love you," he whispered.



"I love you, too."



"Come here." He motioned her closer, and she climbed into his lap. "You're amazing, Nicole."



"Thank you, baby."



"And you're mine."



"Yes," she breathed. "All yours."



<a></a>Nikki peered into the wine closet and tried to pick a bottle of over-priced, but unbelievably tasty, crushed and fermented grape juice. Nick had been a whiskey guy, but David wasn't, and he preferred either beer or wine. No surprise, he had a large wine closet, and a separate section holding a wide variety of the hoppy substance.



<em>Men!</em>



A zinfandel called out to her, and she pulled the least expensive bottle from the rack. She'd just opened the bottle, when her phone rang. "Hey, Cyn."



"You doin' okay?"



"Ugh! Yes. No. Maybe so." She sipped her wine. "Divorce sucks."



"I know, girlfriend. Believe me, I know."



"It was the right decision, but..."



"Still sucks, right?"



"Big time."



"Y'know what helps?"



"What?"



"Answer your door and find out!"



"What-?"



She hurried to the door, peered through the peephole, and giggled. She pulled the door open. "You bitch."



"Yeah, yeah," Cynthia said and flashed her perfect smile at her. "Let me in, otherwise your neighbors will get a shock?"



"What the hell are you talking about?"



Cynthia's expression turned smoldering, a look she knew well, and a smile pulled her lips apart. Her best friend, and sometime lover, pulled her trench coat apart.



Naked.



Louboutin heels were the only thing she wore...aside from a smile, of course.



"I thought you could use some company," Cynthia said with an impish smile.



"Fuck the neighbors." Her voice was husky with lust.



She stepped into the hallway, and into a passionate kiss. Their tongues writhed together, and Nicole molded her body against her lovers. Cynthia had never felt better. Their bodies moved together, and a low moan from her girlfriend vibrated in her mouth. She caressed a breast, lightly pinching her nipple, before her hand descended and she slipped a finger into her moist pussy.



Cynthia broke their kiss and gasped. "Bitch. Take me inside, or fuck me here, but don't tease me."



Nicole grabbed her coat and pulled her inside the condominium. Cynthia kicked the door closed, and her trench dropped to the floor, and by silent, mutual consent, they nearly sprinted to the couch. Nicole pushed her girlfriend onto the couch, and Cynthia flopped down, her legs spreading almost of their own volition. A low growl slid past her lips, and Nicole dived between Cynthia's legs. Her tongue slid over her labia slowly, until it reached her clit, where it circled it with the slow precision only a former lover could display. Cynthia moaned loudly, obviously not caring if someone heard her or not. The former cheerleader's body writhed on the couch, and her hands pulled Nikki's face into her pussy.



"Missed you," Cynthia gasped.



"Shut up."



Nikki slipped a finger inside Cynthia's pussy, searching for the perfect spot she knew would drive her ex-girlfriend wild. Her tongue resumed its caress of her clit, and between her finger and tongue, Cynthia cried out. Her body shuddered. The orgasm wracking her body was intense, and Cynthia grimaced, and stopped breathing as the jagged orgasm spread through her muscles. Abruptly, Cynthia's back arched, and a second later she flopped back to the couch, like a fish out of water.



"Damn." Her chest heaved with exertion. "That was good."



Nicole sat up. "That was quick. Was someone horny?



"Shut up." Cynthia glared at her. "And yes, I was horny."



"C'mon." Nicole grabbed her hand and pulled her upright. "Bedroom. More room."



Cynthia pinched her ass and followed her into the master bedroom. They climbed between the sheets, and Cynthia moved on top of her. They kissed, soft at first, but passion quickly grew between them. Cynthia's hands caressed her breasts, and she moaned lightly. Cynthia loved her breasts, and when her girlfriends tongue circled her nipple, Nicole moaned louder and shuddered almost violently.



"Like that?"



"You know I do, bitch."



"You have amazing tits, honey." Cynthia moved to the other nipple, licked it slowly, and smiled at her. "I love them."



Cynthia's ministrations caused her eyes to close, and her back to arch. "Fuck. That feels good."



Nicole gasped, and sensed Cynthia moved down her body. A light, warm sensation slid from her breasts, past her stomach, to the tip of her pubic mound, and she didn't need to look to know it was Cynthia's tongue. A second later, that amazing tongue flicked across her clit, and she gasped as the electric shock of pleasure zipped through her body. Cynthia's fingers slid along her labia, and her tongue made another appearance, and slowly lid along her sensitive clit. Her legs spread wider, her hands gripped the comforter, and she writhed under her ex-girlfriend's expert touch.



Cynthia played her body like a Stradivarius violin, and orgasm after orgasm exploded inside her. When she couldn't take another one, she pushed Cynthia away, and recovered by giving the blond, former cheerleader her own orgasm cascade. Their bodies intertwined in the large king bed, and they licked, kissed, and caressed themselves until Cynthia finally pushed her away.



"Damn!" Cynthia gasped. "You can fuck, woman."



A light sheen of sweat coated both women's bodies, and the sound of their breathing filled the room. The afterglow of great sex, tired muscles she knew would be sore for a while, and tender intimacy filled her body. Sex with her girlfriend had been just what the doctor ordered.



She giggled and slapped her hip lightly. "Likewise."



"Get me glass of wine."



"Hmmm, so dominant," she purred. "You know how that affects me."



"Blisters." Cynthia glared at her. "I'm going to have blisters on my pussy, if you go down on me again."



"Wine then?"



"Yes, please."



She slipped on a robe, winked at her girlfriend, and then walked into the kitchen. A quick glance out the window showed a beautiful view of the Austin skyline. After they agreed to divorce, she'd moved in with David. He'd owned a home in San Antonio, but as her marriage disintegrated, and his future turned towards politics, he sold his home, and bought a large, beautiful condo in Austin. David's politics were solidly democratic, and Austin was a much better fit over the more conservative San Antonio. Cynthia had moved back to Austin after her company had been sold, so she had a friend in a new city.



<em>We needed a fresh start anyway.</em>



As the capital city of Texas, the organization also had significantly more resources in Austin, and she'd been able to complete her initiation requirements easily. The induction ceremony had been beautiful...and eventful. A naughty, wicked smile played at her lips.



<em>Fun night!</em>



Since David served as her owner, and he'd hinted at marriage, her responsibilities had been minimal. Aside from a few parties and events, she found herself with more time on her hands than she imagined. It wasn't like that for every queen, David told her. Unattached queens, or those without owners, had a fairly active schedule. Mostly, they attended social events, and parties, but they also made themselves available for more 'intimate' social occasions. Initially, she'd thought Queens were glorified prostitutes, but as David explained further, she realized it was just the opposite.



No queen was ordered to do anything. Ever.



Activities were encouraged, but optional.



Queen of Spades could indulge at their own discretion, and discretion was always guaranteed.



And indulge they did.



Often. And with enthusiasm.



A flash of jealousy rushed through her, but she pushed it down. David promised to let her indulge herself too, but under his guidance, subject to his rules. As her owner, and dominant, he took his responsibilities seriously, and that's ultimately what led to her divorce. Marriage, and even cuckold husbands, didn't mix well with a dominant like David. Despite having several orgasms with a gorgeous woman in the last hour, her body fairly sung with excitement at the thought of being with David.



Under his control. Following his instructions.



Her heart started racing, and her breathing grew heavy.



"Hey." Cynthia's voice sliced into her brain, cleaving her lusty thoughts. "Where's my wine?"



"Sorry," she said, and felt her cheeks get hot. She let her hair fall over her face, hiding her embarrassment. "Here it is."



Fingers, with French-manicured nails, pulled her hair back, and Cynthia kissed her cheek. "It's okay, Nikki. I'm here for you."



A shaky smile pulled at her lips. "Thanks. I need a friend."



"Beautiful night," she observed. "Let's have our wine on the patio. Sex and wine, perfect therapy to get past a divorce."



Cynthia turned towards the patio, when she blurted. "I love you." She took a breath. "I love you, Cyn."



"I love you, Nikki." Her lover turned back. "And if you weren't bi-sexual, I'd steal you from David."



She couldn't stop the laugh that forced itself past her lips. "I'm a work in progress."



"Aren't we all, honey."



Wine and Sex. They weren't a cure for getting past a divorce, but they were close. Nikki joined her lover on the patio, and they sat in silence for several minutes. The patio was cooler than she expected, and she pulled her robe closer around her body. Cynthia noticed, rolled her eyes, and stepped inside. She returned with a blanket and draped it over her shoulders.



"Wanna talk?"



She shrugged. "What's to talk about? Divorce is final. David just left for Washington, D.C. He's meeting with lawyers for the president. The hearings are supposed to be a formality, but they still want to prepare him. Soon, we'll be living in Maryland." She sighed. "Close to the water, apparently. He wants to get a boat."



"Sounds nice."



"I'm leaving everything I've ever known."



"Doesn't have to be a bad thing," she replied. "If you stayed here, memories of your life with Nick would hit you in the face every day."

<hr pg="2" />"True. I won't see my girls very often."



"Nikki," she started carefully. "Jasmine is will be starting college soon, and April is cruising through high school. Your days of being in your kid's life on a daily basis are coming to an end." She straightened in her chair and put her wine glass down. "In a way, it's a good thing. Jasmine's going to Harvard, and you'll be closer to her than Nick. April will probably follow her sister, so you'll see them in college."



"You're right," she said. "And David is keeping this condo, so if April chooses UT, she can stay here."



"Yep." She smiled at her. "Life is messy, but that doesn't make it bad."



"Silver lining... is that it?"



"Yep." She motioned her closer. "Sit with me."



"On your lap?"



"Yep."



She purred softly. "With pleasure."



Nicole lowered herself onto Cynthia's lap, and draped the blanket over both. Cynthia had borrowed a pair of shorts, and a sports bra, before she left the bedroom, and Nicole noticed her nipples had hardened under the tight fabric. She ran a finger over the puckered flesh and kissed her neck softly.



"Stop," her lover warned.



"But-."



"I spoke with Nick today."



Her sudden admission threw cold water over Nicole's lusty intentions. "Oh?"



"He wanted me to tell you the girls are fine. They miss you, but they understand the situation."



"Really? They don't hate me?"



"No!" She slapped her thigh. "Of course not. Jasmine said it was a relief, because there was too much drama with you and Cassidy, and Nick and David. She said it's nice to have everything settled." Cynthia pulled on her chin, until their eyes met. "Jasmine and April both wanted me to tell you, they love you."



She hugged her friend. "Thank you. I was so worried. That bitch, Cassidy-."



"Likes you," she said, interrupting her with a pinch. "And she's great with your daughters. Give her a break, you jealous harpy."



"She just rubs me wrong." Irritation laced her voice. "The way she pursued Nick."



Cynthia laughed softly. "Enough. Cassidy is a nice person."



"Have you and her...?"



"What?" Her lover raised her eyebrows at her and cocked her head. "Have I fucked her? Tasted her pussy? Double-clicked her little mouse? Slapped her ass, and covered her in lube?"



"Fuck you!"



She started to rise, but Cynthia held her in place. "We've fooled around, but nothing serious."



"Good."



"Besides, what does it matter? You have David, and this organization." Her fingers made quotations in the air. "In your life."



"Well, David anyway."



"What's that mean? Did you leave it?"



"No," she said quickly. "It's just that I'm attached to David, and he told me the organization works through him."



"And he decides for you?"



"Yes," she replied, and emphasized her response. "It's the accepted way for women who have an owner."



Cynthia's eyebrows rose. "An owner?"



"A dominant."



"Ahhhh." An expression of understanding filled her eyes. "Gotcha."



"I'm not being mistreated," she assured her friend. "Just the opposite, I've never felt more fulfilled."



"Up." She motioned for her to stand. "I'll be right back."



"Okay."



Cynthia disappeared inside, while she returned to her chair, and wrapped the blanket around her. Her part-time lover was possessive, and protective, and she loved her for it. Still, Cyn was a lesbian, and not at all submissive. She could explain it to Cynthia until she grew hoarse, but her friend and lover would never understand. Dominance and Submission wasn't something you could explain, either you understood it, or you didn't, and if you didn't understand it, no amount of explanation would help. It was crystal clear to her, but unbelievably confusing to Cynthia.



David was her dominant.



She loved him. He loved her.



The organization allowed both of them to fully indulge their sexuality.



It worked. More than worked, it was a resounding success.



<em>Hence, my divorce! </em>



Another sigh. Cynthia was right. Her divorce was tough, but it was best for everyone.<em> Time to move on.</em>



She'd just finished her glass of wine, when Cynthia reappeared.



"Hey."



"Hey, back," she said, and sat down. She held something in her hand. "Here."



"What's this?"



"Phone," she said flatly. "For you."



"I have a phone, Cyn."



"No." Her voice was hard. "It's for you, Nikki. Only you, and it's on my account."



"Why-?"



"Peace of mind." She pressed it into her hand. "Do me a favor. Keep it a secret, even from David. I don't know this organization, and I'm sure you're right, but I still worry about you. David seems like a nice guy, but I'm not comfortable with this whole dominant thing."



"You-."



"Don't need to worry," she finished. "I know. You keep saying that, and I'm not convinced, honey. Take the phone. It has location software installed. Call or text me, if you ever need anything, I'll come to your rescue. It's a satellite phone, so you can use it anywhere on the planet."



"Fine." She took the phone and put it on the end table. "But you're wrong. You just don't-."



"Understand."



"Right."



"Honey." The gorgeous blond, former professional cheerleader leaned down and kissed her. "I may not understand, but you sound like you've joined a cult, and that worries me."



"That's why I love you."



"Always."




<a></a>The home was a mixture of red brick and white siding, and it sat along the Potomac river on almost three manicured acres. A wooden dock stretched out into the water, and what had to be a boathouse, sat at the water's edge. She stepped out of the large SUV and surveyed the home and grounds.



"It's beautiful," she breathed.



"Finally," David sighed. "One you like."



She nudged him with her elbow and smiled at the real estate agent. "What's the asking price?"



"Wait." David asked before their real estate agent could answer. "Do you like it or not?"



"I haven't seen the inside yet," she objected. "But I just don't want to fall in love with something outside our price range, honey."



"I told you not to worry about price." He shook his head and motioned at the house. "Let's see the inside, then tell me what you think."



"Fine."



Their real estate agent, Michael, a twenty-something, gorgeous black man smiled at them. "Follow me."



He purposely walked several steps in front, allowing them to evaluate the property and speak privately. As they walked up to the door, her eyes traced the lines of his body.



<em>Wide shoulders. Narrow hips. Flat stomach. Impossible smile. Yummy. </em>



"Stop," her fiancé whispered. "You're drooling."



Her face grew hot. "Sorry. He's kinda cute."



"Kinda?"



"Okay, he's hot." She squeezed his hand. "Is he a member?"



"Yes. He's a newer member, and well-regarded within the organization. He has a bright future, and in this area, everyone in the organization uses him."



"Gotcha."



An hour later, they sat outside on the patio, enjoying the afternoon sun, and discussing the house. Meticulously maintained, it had every possible amenity, and being a riverside property, David had room for his boat. Despite all the features, they still hadn't discussed price, which had grown progressively more irritating as both men ignored her repeated questions on the subject.



"We'll take it," David declared finally. "Draw up the paperwork."



"Honey stop." Nicole squeezed his hand. "Let's talk about it...please."



He smiled at her but shook his head. "It's done. Now, I want you to contact the moving company, and arrange for our things to be delivered."



His tone, and expression left no room for argument. Objecting further would result in punishment, and while his punishments were usually delicious, she found more pleasure in compliance.



"Fine," she replied. "I love you."



Satisfaction filled his eyes, and he kissed her. "I love you."



"Great." Michael shook hands with David and kissed her on the cheek. He smelled fantastic. "I'll inform the owner. With any luck, we'll be able to close next week."



"Excellent," David replied. "I have a trip to California coming soon, so the sooner the better."



"I'll push it through," Michael said confidently.



"Good man."



They said good-bye and drove back to their hotel in Bethesda. Nicole turned from the road and studied her fiancé. Handsome, passionate, and ambitious. His return to Washington D.C., meant more than a return to politics. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Attorney General. The current president was making changes to his cabinet, and he'd called David personally, and after a long discussion, her fiancé had agreed to serve as the top law enforcement officer in the country.



He'd proposed that same night.



The memory of him down on one knee, holding a beautiful ring, and looking up at her with love and hope in his eyes was permanently etched in her brain. Through teary eyes, she accepted his proposal, and when she finally got him alone, she fucked him senseless. They'd married in a quick, discreet ceremony presided over by one of David's friends. Since that night, their marriage had been a whirlwind of moving, political meetings, and parties. David, it seemed, knew everyone in Washington, and even members in the opposing political party greeted him warmly.



"Penny for your thoughts."



She reached over and squeezed his arm, before letting her hand rest on top of his. "I was just thinking how lucky I am."



"Awww, stop it some more."



"It's true."



"I'm glad, baby. I hope you'll always feel the same way." He squeezed her hand. "I love you."



"Love you, too." She hesitated, took a breath, and then pushed forward. "Will you tell me how much the house cost?"



His expression tightened, but he let out a quiet breath. "Asking price was two point six million."



Silence exploded in the luxury SUV, and she felt her mouth drop open.



"Honey," she began. "Can-."



"Yes," he said, before she could continue. "We can afford it."



"But doesn't buying a house normally take several weeks? How can Michael get it done so quickly?"



"I'm paying cash."



<em>Cash?</em>



"Okay," she said, after a shocked second.



He glanced over and offered her a smile. Nicole smiled back, took a quiet breath, and managed to restrain the furious questions threatening to break free. Her new husband was a kind, generous man, but they were both learning where his role as a dominant ended, and the role of husband began.



It was a delicate balance.



David didn't have many pet peeves, but arguing about money was one of them, and he insisted on handling their finances. She didn't want to compare David with Nick, but her ex-husband had always been open about financial stuff.



David...not so much.



"What's going on in California?"



He made a face. "Senators. I have to pay homage to the party, instill confidence in them, and make sure they'll support me during the process."



"Isn't that the job of the white house?"



"Yes and no. They're helping, but I still have to build bridges."



"How long will you be gone?"



"A few days," he said. "Normally, I'd take you along, but this will be all work and I won't have much personal time."



"I understand, honey. It's okay."



"You'll be okay handling the movers?"



"Yes. I'll be fine."



"I'll speak with Michael," he said. "Have him check on you."



"David," she said firmly. "I'm fine."



"Nikki," he said around a sigh. "Queens receive this type of service, even inactive ones, and it's important for you to accept it. Rank has its privileges, just like every other organization, and you're rank entitles you to...a high level of respect."



"Yes, sir." She gave him a mock salute, before a naughty smile crossed her face. "Just how much service." She hit the word service hard. "Can I expect?"



He glanced over, no smile on his face. "That's my decision."



Their eyes held for several seconds, despite being on the road, before she nodded her understanding and dropped her yes. "I understand, David."



"Good, girl."



Nikki turned in her seat, faced forward, and enjoyed the electric thrill of lust his words produced. Submissiveness now came easily, and she found herself slipping under his spell with only a gesture, a look, and sometimes a simple command. David called it pre-subspace, a mental frame of mind where a submissive found themselves easily led and directed. Whatever the name, she felt it, and now she looked forward to it. He'd warned her about misbehaving, just to receive his attention, and she understood, but it was still hard. Her desire to submit, and be dominated, seemed ever-present.



A part of her wanted to misbehave, just so he'd dominate and punish her. She'd done it before, and it had worked...once. After that first time, David sensed her intentions, and he'd withheld his affections until she'd begged his forgiveness. Since then, she'd come to understand true submission came from giving up control, not trying to maintain control by 'topping from the bottom'. It had been a struggle at first, but she'd reached higher levels of pleasure by giving herself over to him.



<em>I wonder if this is how Nick felt?</em>



The ghost of a smile pulled at her lips. Her ex-husband had hinted at his submissive feelings, so powerful, he'd struggled to control them. At the time, she didn't understand. She didn't want to understand. Collin, and then Cynthia, had claimed her sexual attention, and Nick had become her cuckold husband. The situation worked until she realized simple sex wasn't enough. No matter how crazy, or whether it was with a man or woman, it wasn't fulfilling.



David changed everything.



A true dominant.



Together with her ex-husband, she thought they could have a relationship like the one they'd shared with Collin. It was a great idea, but it failed miserably from the start. David brought out feelings in her she didn't understand or control. He'd tried to help her, tried to assume the role of her dominant, but Nick resisted. Strongly. The push-pull of her marriage, family, and David led to several tense moments. When Nick lost a round of golf to David, and agreed to a thirty-day open marriage, the seeds of divorce were planted. They didn't sprout right away, but when they finally emerged above ground, their roots were strong, and it wasn't long until they bore fruit.



<em>It's better this way. For everyone. </em>



<em>I'll always cherish my memories with Nick, but David is my future.</em>



<em>My handsome, strong, dominant, black man. </em>



Her heart thumped in her chest, and she felt herself grow moist.



<em>And soon...father!</em>



<a></a>Nicole stood in the driveway doing her best to provide direction to the mass of men currently shuttling furniture into the house. The moving company had arrived, and it was only mid-morning, but she already felt like she'd walked ten miles. The movers didn't know where she wanted her furniture, so she'd spent most of the morning showing them where to place each piece. It was busy, but exhilarating work, and it wasn't helped by the fact that the movers worked without wearing shirts. Several times throughout the morning, she found herself surrounded by bare-chested black men, all of whom were in great shape, and their lithe, muscled bodies moved like sexy, erotic, twisted steel.



<em>It's raining men. Beautiful black men!</em> She barely suppressed a giggle. <em>Yummy.</em>



At one point, she felt a small twinge of whiplash, as her eyes followed a particularly large and handsome specimen. His abs were model-perfect, and the way his muscles rippled under his skin spoke of serious body building. After he caught her eye for the fifteen time, she realized he hadn't smiled or spoken all morning. Most of the men would say hello or good morning, and some even flirted with her. But this man hadn't uttered a word. He let his eyes communicate his thoughts, and those beautiful, dark eyes communicated volumes. She'd tried to engage him in conversation, but each time she'd spoken to him, he simply nodded his head at her directions.



Unwilling to push further, or disobey her husband, she gave up. The truck was almost empty when she returned to the driveway, and a tired, but satisfied smile parted her lips. She couldn't wait for David to see the final result. She knew he'd be happy, ecstatic probably, and she looked forward to his return from his political trip to California.



<em>Politics</em>, she cursed, inwardly. <em>A human cesspool</em>.



The meetings hadn't gone well. His political opponents were slinging rumors and innuendos in the press, and it was gaining traction. Several senators had become nervous about supporting him. What had been a two-day trip quickly turned into a five-day juggernaut of meetings and press interviews. David was staying in front of it all, and doing a marvelous job, but when they spoke, she could tell the pressure was affecting him. She took it up on herself to speak to his secretary, and when he returned home, his calendar would be as empty as humanly possible for several days.



<em>Home. Our home. It'll be his retreat, and I'm going to make it perfect.</em>



"Ma'am?" A large, muscular man with a gorgeous smile, called to her from the front door. "May I have a moment of your time."



"Sure."



She pushed thoughts of her husband out of her mind and focused on their home. She met him at the door and followed him to the back patio. Her eyes trailed over workers, evaluating their progress, and she realized they were nearly finished. Most of the large items had been placed, and now they were bringing in the smaller lamps, paintings, and other accessories.



"Okay," he said, when they stopped outside. "My guys are almost done, and I wanted to go over the paperwork."



He laid several documents on the table, and she stepped up next to him. Without warning, she caught his scent in her nose, and almost stopped in place. A heady, pleasant mixture of sweat, and masculinity filled her nostrils. Flashes of David popped in her head. He smelled the same when they had sex, or after he worked out, and the smell always made her think of sex. Like Pavlov's dog, her body responded immediately, and an almost overwhelming urge to drop to her knees surged through her. She took a long, quiet breath, and tore her mind away from sexual fantasies.



"Ma'am?"



"Sorry." She shook her head. "I lost my train of thought."



"No problem. I just need your signature."



He rifled through the sheaf of papers, pointing out where she needed to sign, and where she needed to initial. Their bodies brushed against one another several times, and she found it increasingly difficult to suppress her sexual desires. He smiled down at her, and she struggled not to lose herself in his sexy smile, and gorgeous brown eyes.



"Um." She cleared her throat. "Do I write you a check?"



"No, ma'am." He slipped the papers into a folder. "It's been taken care of."



"Really? By my husband?"



"Sort of," he replied. "I'll bill the organization."



"I see."



He started to turn, but then snapped his fingers. "I apologize. I'm supposed to give you something."



"Give me something?"



He dug into his shirt pocket. "Here."



A small beige envelope appeared in his large hand. Her name was written on the front, in David's handwriting. "Weird. Why didn't he call?"



"I understand he's been busy, ma'am."



"Yes. That's certainly true."



She opened the envelope and slid out a small card. Her breath caught in her throat as she read the words. They were unusually formal. An electric shock resonated through her body, when she realized he spoke to her this way when he was dominating her. Her eyelids lowered fractionally, and she felt lust and submission flow through her mind and body.



Another breath.



<em>My love. </em>



<em> </em>



<em>I hope all is going well with our new home. </em>



<em> </em>



<em>Events have grown more complex, and I need to stay until Sunday.</em>

<hr pg="3" /><em> </em>



<em>As my absence is both unavoidable and unexpected, I want to ensure you are appropriately cared for. </em>



<em> </em>



<em>At your discretion, you may choose one among the movers to enjoy. </em>



<em> </em>



<em>Enjoy yourself. Ensure your chosen man does, too. </em>



<em> </em>



<em>I love you. </em>



<em> </em>



<em>David. </em>



<em> </em>



<em>P.S. Claude is highly regarded, but the choice is yours.</em>



<a></a>Nicole read the note several more times. Not because she didn't understand the words, because she obviously did. No, she read the note to give her time to compose herself. David had offered her the opportunity to...what? Fuck another man? Yes. That's exactly what his words meant. She took a long breath, held it, and let it out quietly. The man next to her seemed to sense her indecision and remained silent.



Could she?



Stupid question...of course, she could.



She'd been enjoying the buffet of gorgeous men all morning. The especially large black man, the quiet one, had nearly made her mad with lust. She set the note down carefully, sucked in another quiet breath, and faced the man.



"Do you know-?"



"It's common within the organization." He gave her a wide, sexy smile. "It's a Queens right."



"A Queens right?"



He cocked his head. "You're new, aren't you?"



"Is it that obvious?" When he didn't reply, she nodded. "I've only been in the organization a short time. I've gone to a few parties, but I'm usually with my husband."



"It's no problem, ma'am."



"Nicole," she prompted.



"I'm sorry?"



"Please call me, Nicole. Ma'am makes me feel old."



Another smile. "Nicole."



"Thank you. Now, can you help me with this Queen's, right?"



"A Queen of Spades has the <em>right</em>." He emphasized with a smile. "To choose any black man, at virtually any time, for sex."



Her mouth dropped open for a moment, but she recovered quickly. "Ummmm, wow."



A low chuckle from him caused goosebumps to break out over her skin. "Truthfully, most of my guys were hoping you'd pick one of them this morning."



"Wait." She held up a hand. "What you're saying is that I could've picked any member of your crew, and what, dragged him off to fuck? Even before you gave me this note?"



He nodded. "In so many words, yes."



"But what about my husband?"



"The boundaries of your marriage are none of our concern." He motioned vaguely towards the house. "If you were to choose one of my men, we'd assume it was acceptable within your marriage. It's not our place to question a Queen. If your husband had a concern, he could address it to the organization, or to you specifically."



"A Queen's right."



"Exactly."



Nicole dropped her fingers to the note, and she tapped it absently. The high-quality paper felt good against her fingers. David had described the organization in broad strokes, and he'd mentioned the position of Queen of Spades had certain benefits, but she hadn't paid much attention. She was happy married. David was her Dom. She'd assumed any activities would only happen with David present, and he'd explain things to her, before they happened.



<em>Not so much</em>, she thought.



"There's no pressure, Nicole. You don't have to choose-."



"A man on your crew," she interrupted. "He's ummmm...big. I mean, he's tall, muscular. Quiet."



"Claude."



"Is that his name?"



He nodded. "Yes. Shall I have him meet you here?"



"No. The bedroom." She met his eyes. "Five minutes."



His eyes met hers, and he gave her a slight bow. "Yes, my queen."



Without another word, he turned and strode into the house. Nicole watched him for a moment, before she gathered her wits, and nearly sprinted into the bedroom. She flung herself into the closet, nearly ripping her clothes off, and shoving them into the clothes hamper. Lust was driving her, but despite the heady hormonal intoxication, a shower was called for, and she started the water running. She didn't bother with a towel, and quickly moved to the sink to brush her teeth. A small part of her wanted to throw caution to the wind, and just fuck the huge black man. Dirty sex was the best sex, but it was usually quick, and she didn't want quick. The fire burning in her loins cried out for a long, sensual, and primal fucking, and for that...she needed a shower.



And she needed Claude.



<a></a>Steam started to billow in the shower, and she stepped inside to check the water. Perfect. She stepped under the cascading spray, and let the hot water play over her body. Sweat and grime from the morning washed down her body, and she ran a bar of lightly-scented soap over her body. She considered washing her hair but discarded the idea. It would take too long. Instead, she washed her face, and ran a hand over her legs. Perfect. In addition to her legs, she'd had her several parts of her body lasered free of hair, and she'd never once regretted it.



She was about to shut off the water, when she sensed him. She couldn't identify exactly what made her aware of him, of his presence, but she knew almost immediately that he was in the bathroom with her. Her heart kicked into a high gear, and a long, slow deep breath washed out of her lungs. A familiar tingling sensation started in the low pit of her stomach, and soon spread throughout her body. The bar of soap was replaced, and she made a slow turn on her heel.



Claude stood just outside the shower. His eyes bored into hers, and she saw her own lust mirrored in his dark brown eyes. Naked to the waist, his hands were hooked in the waistband of his jeans, and her eyes traveled down his handsome face, past his square jaw, and they devoured his broad chest, and sculpted abs. A moan, covered by the sound of the shower, escaped her, and she felt her nipples harden. Claude cocked an eyebrow at her, his question obvious.



She crooked a finger and smiled. "Join me."



His hands shifted on his waistband, moving towards the zipper, and for the millionth time that morning, she noticed how large his hands were. They seemed enormous, and she barely suppressed a giggle, when she considered what else might be enormous. Claude unzipped his jeans, and together with his boxer shorts, he pushed them down.



"Oh my," she breathed.



Claude stepped out of his clothes, met her eyes, and moved into the shower. Nicole made room for him, and he moved under the spray. Water beaded on his dark skin, and it ran down his muscles in clear rivulets. Steam billowed around them, and she had to focus on her breathing for a moment. Claude's tall body was packed with lean muscles, and just standing next to him made her knees weak. He was so...masculine. The heady scent of sweat and wet flesh drifted into her nose like an expensive cologne, and she inhaled deeply. Claude's heavily muscled arms rose, and he ran his hands over his head and face, before he looked down at her. A jolt of sexual electricity shot through her body.



Claude didn't speak. He didn't smile. But his eyes held a gentle intensity that captivated her. Despite his size, and his intimidating presence, Nicole knew instinctively that she was safe with this man. She let her gaze roam over his body, taking note of his large arms, huge chest, flat stomach, and heavily muscled legs. Slowly, tentatively, she reached out with her finger, and traced a straight line of puckered flesh. A scar. Her finger moved to the left, just over his hip where another scar stood out, this one an almost perfect circle of round, puckered flesh. Other scars, some round, others straight dotted his body, and after a moment, she looked up and met his eyes.



"Soldier."



The single word echoed in the large shower. Claude's voice was a deep, resonating base sent another wave of shivers down her body. His voice also held an accent, but it was one she couldn't place.



"You were a soldier?" He nodded, and she cocked her head. "Not anymore?"



"No."



She ran her finger over a straight scar. "Do they hurt?"



"Not anymore," he replied, with the ghost of a smile.



Nicole moved closer, she ran her hands over his stomach, up past his chest, and let them rest on his wide shoulders. "I'm safe with you, aren't I?"



"Yes. Always."



Her hand slid behind his neck, and she pulled him lower. Claude bent lower, his head tilting slightly to one side, and his eyes filled with lust.



"Safe," she whispered.



Their lips met. Claude's hands circled her waist, and he pulled her against him. Her breasts pressed against his muscled body, and lust exploded inside her. Claude must have felt the same, because she felt a long, thick presence raise between her legs, and she let out a low moan. Claude pushed his tongue past her lips, gently probing, and she flicked her tongue against his in response. A low growl emanated from Claude, and one of his large hands cupped her breast. He pinched her nipple lightly between this thumb and forefinger, and another moan, louder this time, escaped her. Their lips broke, and they stared at each other for a long moment.



Their eyes locked onto each other. Time stopped.



A connection formed, light, tenuous, but undeniable.



Nicole stood on the precipice of a cliff with Claude standing as still as a statue next to her. They both knew, deep inside them, they knew if they stepped off the precipice they wouldn't be able to control themselves. But, they also sensed there was still time. They could still step back from the cliff. They could stop now, and nothing would change between them. Nicole's hand rested against Claude's chest, and she could feel his heart thudding against his chest. Claude stood still, unmoving, as if sensing her thoughts.



She inhaled slowly, reveling in his scent, and her eyes dropped from his dark, soulful eyes to his firm, kissable lips.



Move forward? Or step back?



Nicole's eyes betrayed her and continued their descent. They dropped lower, past Claude's chest, past his flat stomach and perfect abs, until they found what she'd glimpsed earlier. What hung between Claude's legs caused her rational brain to shut down, and her primal mind to take over. Too say Claude was gifted was like describing the ocean by the waves on the surface...accurate to a point, but otherwise wholly inadequate. She shuddered for a long moment, as lust and desire took over, and wiped her mind and body clean of any lingering inhibitions.



<em>Mine!</em>



She pushed Claude against the wall and knelt in front of his muscled body. Claude's sheer presence, and his raw masculinity caused a wave of delicious submissiveness to wash through her. Claude's cock continued to grow, thick and longer, and her hands cradled it reverently. It was, in a word...perfect. Her head bent forward, her tongue moved out of her mouth, almost of its own volition, and she slowly licked the tip of his cock. The hard, warm flesh tasted of salt, cum, and the promise of amazing sex yet to come.



Nicole stroked his cock, letting her hands alternate as they moved up and down his cock. Surprisingly, it grew even harder. She glanced up, and her eyes eagerly traveled the length of his body. Claude's head was thrown back, into the shower spray, and for some reason she didn't understand, Nicole was glad he wasn't staring at her like she was on stage. David liked to stare at her, frequently commanding her to keep her eyes on his, but Claude was different. His silence was comforting, not awkward, and he seemed content to let her use his body for her own enjoyment. It was as if Claude freed her to be as kinky as she liked, and that freedom increased her excitement exponentially.



The dam of lust finally burst within her. She felt herself lose control and she loved it. Nicole dived upon Claude's cock.



Hard flesh and salty pre-cum slid past her lips and pushed down her throat. The large, beautiful cock cut off her oxygen, but she didn't care. Her hands gripped his ass, and she pulled herself further on his cock. Claude groaned, and his body trembled, but otherwise he remained still. Nicole's gag reflex had given way under the intensity of her lust, and she continued to push his cock deeper in her throat until her nose touched Claude's body. She'd taken his entire cock, and a sense of triumph welled up inside her. David's instructions flashed through her brain, but she dismissed them almost as quickly.



Claude was hers! One orgasm or twenty, this beautiful hunk of man wasn't leaving her home until they were both sated.



Nicole pulled her head away, his cock popped free of her mouth, and she sucked in a huge gasp of air. Without pausing, she sank her head onto his cock again, and this time, she moved it back and forth. The sensation of his hard cock against the sensitive flesh of her mouth and throat was indescribably erotic. She settled into the beautiful rhythm of a fantastic blow job, taking time to lick the tip of his cock, and slap it against her cheeks, and tongue. No limits. No judgements. Nicole threw herself into sucking Claude's cock so much that she lost track of his reactions, and it wasn't until he groaned loudly, and tapped her shoulder that she realized he was about to orgasm.



Her hands found his ass again, she clamped her lips on this cock, and forced his cock deep into her mouth. Claude belonged to her, and she wanted him to finish in her mouth. The warm explosion of salty, creamy cum nearly caused her to orgasm, and she swallowed convulsively until the beautiful black man in front of her finished. When she sensed his cock finally start to soften, she ran her tongue over the tip of his cock, and let it slide from her mouth. When she looked up, she found Claude studying her with an odd expression. She stood, leaned against his chest, and let her fingers travel over his washboard stomach.



"What?" She asked. "What are you thinking?"



"I'm glad you chose me." His voice was soft, gentle and it cascaded over her like a waterfall. "You are a special-."



"Stop." She pulled back and met his eyes. "You don't have to-."



"I mean what I say. Always."



The intensity of his gaze made her tremble against him, and she pressed her lips against his sensuous mouth. Claude kissed her back. His arms held her tight against him, and at that moment, Nicole couldn't imagine being anywhere else in the world. Their tongues caressed each other, and the passion between them grew until it was a physical force in the shower. She let her hands roam over his chest, shoulders, and stomach. Finally, their kiss broke, and she realized she was nearly out of breath. She closed her eyes, let her head fall against his chest, and focused on sucking in oxygen. Claude's presence was nearly overwhelming.



Nicole wasn't sure how long they stood together, enjoying the simple touch of their naked skin, but she wasn't in a hurry to move. A soft gentle stroking on her back finally caused her to look into Claude's eyes. They were gentle, and his lips were curved into a small smile. She stepped back, and realized he had a bar of soap in his hand, and he'd been washing her back and shoulders.



"Here." She turned and picked up her normal body wash. "Use this."



Nicole watched as he squeezed some of the thick fluid into his hands, lathered them for a moment and placed them on her shoulders once again. Claude's hands looked even larger against her body, and his touch was just the right combination of firm, but oh-so-gentle. Her eyes closed. Her mouth dropped open, and she began to pant softly. Nicole felt her nipples harden, and a tingling sensation started in her stomach. Claude's hands drifted lower, moving in small circles, and the light scent of cinnamon wafted into her nose. His hands covered her breasts, his fingers traced over her nipples, and she moaned aloud. The sensuousness of his touch, and the intimacy of the shower made her lust grow like a tidal wave.



When his hands moved past her breasts, he turned her around, and his arms encircled her, but his hands continued washing her stomach and hips. She pressed her ass against his cock, and felt his large shaft start to grow. Another moan, this one encouraging, escaped her mouth. His fingers brusher clit, and an electric jolt shot through her body. At the same time though, his lips kissed the back of her neck. The combination of pleasurable sensations caused her body to shudder almost violently.



"Take me to bed," she whispered against his chest. "Please."



Claude bent, scooped her up in his arms, and pushed the shower door open. He picked up two towels as he walked through the bathroom, and he gave one to her. Instead of dropping her onto the mattress when they reached the bed, he let her legs drop first until she was able to stand on her own. He hefted a towel, and started drying her body, slowly, sensually, until she nearly groaned in suppressed pleasure. Claude started at her shoulders and worked his way down her body until he reached her feet. Finally dry, he stepped back, and tossed the towel aside. His eyes beckoned her forward, and Nicole repeated the process on Claude's body.



Claude's muscles reached to her touch, and they rippled beneath the thin layer of dark skin. Several times, she succumbed to her urges, and ran her lips over a particularly delectable portion of his skin. Her tongue flicked across his nipples as she dried his chest, and she kissed her way down his washboard abs. She ran the towel over his waist, taking a long time to make sure his cock was dry, before she moved lower and dried each of his legs. There was something primal, submissive in kneeling before this man, and she loved it. His body finally dry, she looked up at him from her knees, and found him smiling at her.



"What-."



Claude bent down, gripped her hips, and tossed her onto the bed, before she could finish the one-word sentence. The strength in is arms took her breath away, but it also made her feel safe, feminine. She let out a startled yelp, before her back bounced against the soft mattress. Claude moved towards her, his cock hard and jutting out from his body, and Nicole's legs moved apart as though it was the most natural thing in the world. And in way...it was.



"Take me," she breathed.



Claude covered her lips with his, and she closed her eyes as a tidal wave of pleasure washed her way.



<a></a><em>A large cock, in and of itself, is a beautiful thing.</em>



The thought drifted through Nicole's mind as Claude pushed his cock inside her. The hard shaft stretched her pussy and filled it until she almost gagged. Some women didn't like deep thrusting, but for her, it felt amazing. Claude held himself fully inside her until she whimpered, ground her hips against his, and begged without speaking, for him to fuck her. Finally, he responded, and pulled himself outside of her fully.



A frustrating, erotic sensation spiked within her. Empty now, her pussy felt bereft of pleasure, and her hands scrabbled over his hips. She wanted him back inside her. She needed him on top of her. Another soft moan left her lips, and Claude's massive hand slid over her throat. Nicole's eyes snapped open to find Claude staring at her with an intensity that set her inside on fire. His eyes sparkled with multiple levels of passion.



His expression wasn't dangerous. It wasn't scary.



It was...compelling.



Claude was in control, and they both knew it. His eyes locked onto hers, his hand held her throat gently, but firmly, and without warning, he slammed his cock back inside her. Fully impaled, she screamed as the sudden onslaught of pleasure caused her body to jerk and shudder. Claude pulled out, hesitated once more, and pushed inside her again. The slight hesitation in his thrusts was driving her mad, and she pulled him down on top of her. Her hands gripped his ass, and she pulled with all her strength, but Claude didn't move. He was a delicious rock on top of her, and she sensed it was his way of asserting control.



Again, he slammed inside her, and again, she screamed in pleasure.

<hr pg="4" />Nicole's hands moved over his back and shoulders, and her fingernails scraped against his dark skin. Claude moved into a sensual rhythm, no longer hesitating anymore, he moved in and out of her with slow, sensuous strokes. Stars exploded across her vision, and the tips of her fingers tingled with oxygen deprivation. The pleasure was so intense, she had to remind herself to breathe. She sucked in a great gasp of breath, and another, and another, as her body writhed underneath the beautiful black man.



The orgasm building inside her was immense. Raw, jagged pleasure grew slowly, from the pit of her stomach, until it filled her entire body. Her moans were constant, frantic, but Claude didn't change his strokes. The slow-motion fucking frustrated her, and it kept her on the edge of an orgasm. Moans turned to outright begging, and she pleaded to him to give her the release she so desperately needed. Somewhere in the class-five rapids of pleasure, Claude covered her lips again with his own, and thrust his tongue into her mouth. At the same time, she sensed his huge hand cover her breast, and his fingers tightened on the nipple...gently at first, then suddenly, his fingers pinched the sensitive flesh of her nipple together. The pleasure/pain combination snapped her eyes open and caused the ticking bomb of an orgasm to finally explode.



Distantly, Nicole was aware she was screaming, shrieking, and writhing uncontrollably, but she couldn't stop it. Primal sensations had taken over her body, and she was helpless under the onslaught of raw power of the most intense orgasm she could remember. As wave after wave of orgasmic bliss assaulted her body, she felt her vision narrow, and the world around her grew dark. The last thing she sensed was the weight of Claude's body moving away from her. She wanted to stop him, to hold him close, but she couldn't move, and she felt herself falling away.



***



Nicole sucked in a deep breath, and she thrashed for a moment, before a hand touched her shoulder, and her eyes snapped open. She glanced around the room and recognize the surroundings. Her head turned toward the warm hand on her shoulder, and she saw Claude staring her, a small smile on his face. She let out the breath she'd been holding, and relaxed back onto the mattress.



"I passed out?" She asked, dumbly.



"Yes."



Her hands covered her face. "Wow. I'm embarrassed."



"Don't be."



Claude obviously held a black belt in the rare art of saying as little as possible. Nicole giggled. Her body still tingled with the afterglow of amazing sex, and she couldn't believe how powerful she reacted to the man next to her. David was great at sex, and he could pull orgasm after orgasm out of her. Collin had also been amazing between the sheets, in his model-perfect way. Claude was different though, and the difference was profound. He held a quiet, intense presence that touched her in the pit of her stomach when she looked at him. Words were unnecessary with Claude.



Nicole rolled onto her side, smiled at him, and ran her fingers over his chest. "You, sir, are good at sex."



"Thank you."



"I need some water," she said. "Would you like some?"



"Yes."



Nicole slipped off the bed and walked naked through her house towards the kitchen. She loved being naked, and since the house was empty, she didn't plan on wearing clothes until after she was done with Claude.



It might be a while.



She giggled to herself, shook her head, and pulled two bottles of water out of the refrigerator. When she returned to the bedroom, Claude was gone. A second later, she heard the water running in the sink, and she walked into the bathroom. Claude stood in front of the sink, his impressive cock half-hard, and he was washing his hands. Nicole stared at him for a long moment, drinking in the sight of his naked body in the mirror, and enjoying how the light played across muscular body. A tingling sensation erupted between her legs, and she felt herself grow moist again. The moment lasted another beautiful second, before her lust took over, and she slowly walked towards Claude. She let her hips sway as she approached him, and when he turned to face her, she held out the bottle of water.



"Thirsty?"



Claude's eyes met hers, and she saw her own desire mirrored in Claude's dark, intense stare. A long, erotic second passed, before Claude swatted the water out of her hand. It crashed against the mirror and rolled across the floor. Claude stepped forward, grabbed her hips, and twisted her until she faced the mirror. He stood behind her, pushed her upper body down onto the cold granite counter, and kicked her legs apart. Bent over, vulnerable, and shaking with desire, Nicole said nothing. She didn't have to, because her ragged breathing, and wet, gleaming pussy was proof enough that she wanted, no needed, to be taken by the beautiful, masculine black man behind her.



The now-familiar head of Claude's cock pressed against her, and she moaned against the cold granite. A strong, powerful hand gripped her hair, tugged her head back, and at the same time, his cock pushed inside her. Nicole saw her reflection in the mirror. Pleasure, pain, submissiveness all washed over her face, as Claude started to pound her body, and a small orgasm erupted within her. If Claude noticed her reaction, he didn't show it, and he continued to pound her from behind. One hand held her hair in a tight grip and controlled her head. Claude's other hand held her hip tightly. Once again, Nicole found herself at the mercy of Claude, and she loved it.



The bathroom mirror stood witness to the visceral sex. Nicole's body shook with each thrust, and her moans filled the space until they echoed off the walls. Claude didn't stop. He didn't hesitate. An amazing, masculine metronome, he filled her body with music, and she succumbed to his hypnotic rhythm. She lost track of time. She lost track of everything but the pleasure rocking her body. At last, she sensed a break in the rhythm, and Claude's breathing changed. She knew what was coming, and she took that moment to seize control.



Nicole pushed her hips back hard. Claude reacted by stepping back, and his cock slipped free of her pussy. She moved quickly, but smoothly. Nicole spun around, dropped to her knees, and her hands seized Claude's cock. It was hard, slick, and it carried the heady scent of wet flesh. She clamped her lips onto it, savoring the flavor of their mixed juices, and she let it slip in and out of her mouth. Claude moaned softly, and his body tensed. Instead of taking his cum in her mouth, Nicole popped the cock free, and stroked it with manic intensity.



Claude's cock exploded, and his white, creamy cum covered her face and chest. The fountain of cum seemed never-ending, and gorgeous white geysers of cum splayed over her body. Another orgasm made her body shudder, as Claude held his cock in front of her face and continued to blast her. Nicole's eyes closed. Her eyelids were covered with cum, and she steadied herself by holding onto Claude's hips. A second later, she felt his cock press against her face, and Claude swept his amazing cock across her face. She purred in response, loving his attention.



"Don't move," his soft, deep voice commanded.



Claude moved away from her, and she heard the water begin streaming in the shower. Claude returned, and picked her up as easily as if she were a child. He carried her into the shower and set her down under the warm spray. A full minute passed, before she washed enough of Claude's cum off her face to risk opening her eyes.



Claude smiled at her and murmured. "Amazing."



Nicole pulled him closer. "Wanna do it again?"



<a></a>Nicole sat alone on her patio, staring out at the water, and tolerated the solitude. Yes, the house was amazing, and it sat along the Potomac river, but it wasn't the Texas Hill Country. It didn't feel like home. She sipped her wine, sighed quietly, and reminded herself that her choices had led her to this point. And they weren't bad choices. David was a great husband, and he excited every fiber of her being. If his confirmation hearings went well, he'd be the next Attorney General. She set her wine down and frowned.



If he would just pick up his phone.



The afternoon with Claude had left her exhausted, exhilarated, and missing her husband. The sex was amazing, and she was definitely interested in learning more about a Queen's Right, but Claude wasn't David, and sex wasn't love. She'd tried to reach her husband several times, but each time his phone had sent her straight to voice mail. It wasn't like David, but she knew he was busy with meetings, and assorted political bullshit.



<em>Still</em>, she thought. <em>How hard was it to send a quick text?</em>



The wine held no answers, and the water made for poor company. She stepped inside her new home and decided against a movie. She'd probably pick a romantic comedy, and she didn't want to watch it alone. Instead of a movie that would just emphasize her loneliness, she picked up her tablet, and downloaded a new book by Keira Drake, The Continent. Social Media had buzzed about the book for weeks, and she decided to find out what all the fuss was about. Wine got replaced by water, and she climbed into her bed.



The book was fantastic. The characters vivid, and the plot was gripping, but none of those things could hold a candle to her exhaustion. Shortly after the first chapter, her eyes started drooping. When she reached the second chapter, she gave up. One last check of her phone revealed...nothing. David hadn't tried to contact her, and a light tinge of fear caused her to hear to beat heavily.



<em>Stop. You'll talk to him tomorrow.</em>



The bell woke her, and it took a minute for her to realize it was the doorbell. Awake in an instant, she brushed her hair out of her face, sat up, and checked the time. Seven thirty in the morning? What in the world? She dressed quickly, cursed quietly when she remembered she wasn't in Texas anymore, and David didn't want firearms in his home. A few seconds later, she approached the door. The keyhole revealed a serious man dressed in a suit, and she vaguely recognized him as a member of her security detail.



"Yes," She said, as she opened the door. "How may I help you?"



"I'm sorry to bother you so early, but it's regarding your husband."



"Is everything okay? He didn't return my calls yesterday."



He nodded. "Some things have happened, and I wanted to brief you."



"Please." She opened the door further and motioned him inside. "Come in. Would you like some coffee?"



"No. Thank you, ma'am."



"Well, I'm going to have some. I can't think without coffee."



It was a lame joke, and it failed to receive even the ghost of a smile from the agent. She led the way into the kitchen and punched a few buttons on the nasa-designed coffee maker. Barely a minute later, she strode to the table with a steaming cappuccino. The agent stood stiffly, and she waved him to the table.



"Please, sit. You're making me nervous."



He sat. "I apologize."



"It's okay. What's going on?"



"I know it's early, but have you been on the Internet this morning? Visited any social media sites?"



"No."



"Good. I wouldn't recommend it."



"Why?"



"That's why I'm here." He took a quick breath. "Allegations have been made against your husband. They're fairly striking, even lurid, and the Internet being the Internet, speculation has caused those allegations to grow tenfold. The allegations surfaced late yesterday afternoon, and I understand your husband has been frantically trying to address them with members of congress. He hasn't had time to address the media, and he's still working with the White House to develop a cohesive strategy.



"I see-."



He continued almost as if she hadn't spoken. "We don't believe there is a specific threat to your security, but in the interests of safety, we've increased the security presence around you."



"Wait." She held up a hand. "What sort of allegations?"



"Ma'am, that's not for me to say." His face colored slightly. "I'm simply informing you that your security is being increased, and the reason for the change. I'm sure your husband will reach you soon. We'd prefer it if you'd stay indoors today and let us know if you need anything."



"I can't go outside-."



Before she could finish her sentence, the phone rang. The agent leaned back and nodded for her to take it. She took a breath and answered it.



"That sonofabitch!" Cynthia's voice filled her ear, before she could even say hello. "Nikki, get your ass on a plane, and stay with me."



"Wait! Cyn, I don't even know what's going on. I just woke up, and I haven't seen the news."



"Well don't fucking bother." Her ex-girlfriend's voice was hot. "Your bastard husband has quite the history."



"What! Don't talk about David like that, he's not a bastard."



Before Cynthia could respond, the phone clicked, and she knew it meant she had another call coming in.



"Cyn, I'll call you back. I've got another call, and it might be David."



"If you're not on a plane by this afternoon, I'm coming to get you! I'm serious, Nikki."



"I'll be in touch, Cyn. I promise."



"You better-."



She terminated her call with Cynthia, paused for a moment, and answered the new call.



"Hello, this is Nicole."



<em>You're a sick bitch! Your husband is an animal. </em>



<em>I hope you both die. </em>



<em>Fuck you!</em>



Nicole dropped the phone and retreated several steps. The agent sitting at the table lurched forward, and snatched he phone form the floor.



"Hello? Hello?"



He met her eyes. "Are you okay?"



Nicole's heart raced, and icy fear shot through her. "They-." She swallowed. "They said some horrible things."



Sympathy flashed in his eyes, and he nodded. "Wacko's. Don't worry. You're safe. Our security detail has this place surrounded, and most of these are idle threats."



"Most?"



"You're safe, ma'am. I promise." He offered her a reassuring smile. "How about I answer the phone from now on?"



She nodded. "Okay. Will you reach my husband, and tell him to call me? I know he's busy, but I need to hear his voice right now."



"Absolutely."



"I. Uh. I guess I'll take a shower. Will you let me know if my husband calls?"



"Of course."



Nicole strode away, her steps shaky, her breathing heavy, and her hands trembled. She needed a stiff drink, but it wasn't even eight a.m. yet. Nervous tension made her normally long shower, very short, and she decided to keep it simple. A light touch of makeup, a pony-tail, and a running outfit...with her favorite pair of yoga pants. She shrugged in the mirror. What else does one wear when they're receiving death threats?



When she returned to the kitchen, she saw the agent standing near the front door speaking into his cell phone. Another cup of coffee got poured, and she briefly thought about adding some vodka, but decided against it. Liquor would help her nerves, but little else, and she needed her wits about her. She sipped her coffee, and stepped over to the back windows, and noticed two agents in her back yard. If that wasn't creepy enough, an official-looking boat sat a few hundred yards off shore.



A lot of security.



"Nicole." The agent whose name she still didn't know or remember called her. "Do you have a moment?"



"Of course."



"I'm afraid I have some bad news."



<a></a>"Bad news? From my husband?"



The agent's expression alarmed her more than his words. His face had grown suspiciously careful, his body language stiff, and his professional demeanor had given way to something resembling...sorrow. His lips were moving, but she wasn't hearing anything, and several seconds passed, before she shook her head.



"I'm sorry. I didn't hear what you said. Would you mind repeating it?"



He took a breath. "Would you like to sit down?"



"No. Now, out with it."



"Ma'am-. Sorry, Nicole. I'm sorry to tell you this...but your husband has passed away."



"Passed away?"



"He's dead, Nicole. A massive heart attack apparently. His body is at the hospital now, but the doctors pronounced him dead on arrival."



"Heart Attack. Body."



The words tumbled from her mouth, but she couldn't make sense of them. Her world tilted, and she felt strong hands catch her. A numbness washed through her body, isolating her from the world around her, and dulling her senses. Her mouth continued to work, but it had disconnected itself from her brain. David. Heart Attack. Dead. The words didn't make sense. Distantly, she realized she was laying on something soft, but firm, and people were moving around her. Something heavy moved next to her. It smelled like...her dentist's office.



A piercing light stabbed one eye. She shook her head, and snapped her eyes shut. A second later, fingers pried her other eye open, and the light stabbed her pupils again.



"Owww! Oww! Stop, dammit."



A face materialized from behind the light, and she stared at a man with a stethoscope around his neck. He looked familiar, and after a full minute, she recognized him as her neighbor. He was a doctor? Weird.



"Can you hear me?" The words seemed stupid, considering their noses were barely six inches apart, and she giggled. "Nicole. Can you hear me?"



"Yes." She coughed. "Lay off the onions!"



What possessed her to say those words, she didn't know, and she giggled again. A quirky smile kicked at the corners of the doctor's mouth, and he sat up. Nicole glanced around to find several agents standing nearby, and the doctor nodded to them.



"I think she's fine. Just in shock, that's all."



"Of course, I'm fine."



"Good," he replied. "Then you won't mind a quick examination."



Nicole cocked an eyebrow. "Better not be a pelvic exam, buster."



The doctor cocked an eyebrow and chuckled. "Blood pressure, heart rate, and a few questions. That's it. I'm not that other kind of doctor."



"What kind of doctor are you?"



"Neurosurgeon."



"Ahhh, better than a dentist, I suppose."



The doctor snorted. "A bit, yeah."



At his urging, she sat up, and allowed him to check her breathing, her heart rate, and blood pressure. In all, the exam was painless, and over within a few minutes. Somewhere along the way, the doctor popped in a breath mint. The agents drifted away, but didn't leave, and she when the blood pressure cuff came off, she glanced at her doctor.



"How long was I out?"



"You didn't lose consciousness, but you were unresponsive for a good thirty minutes."



"Wow. Thirty minutes," she said.



"Completely normal, given the circumstances."



"Am I okay?"



He nodded. "Heart rate and blood pressure are elevated, but nothing that's alarming. You're breathing just fine. Taking any medications?"



She shook her head. "Nope."



"Nothing?"



"Tylenol for headaches. Motrin for muscle stuff."



"Well then, I think you're in great health." He put his equipment away in an antique leather bag that reminded her of the TV shows she'd watched as a kid. "I understand you're new in the area. If you don't have a primary care physician in the area, you're welcome to stop by my office. I'd like to run a few tests. If you do have a doctor, you can have them contact me."



"No doctor, and I'll check my schedule."



"You do that. I've left my information with your security personnel."



"Thank you."



"You're welcome. I wish we'd met under better circumstances."



"Same here."



With a final half-smile, he nodded, and left. She tried to make sense of her emotions, but quickly gave up. Her husband was dead but didn't feel grief. Truthfully, she didn't feel...anything, as if a thick layer of anesthetic had been applied over her normal emotions. She felt like she should cry, or wail, but those feelings just wouldn't come. Instead, a cool calm slid over her. She glanced at the agent who'd informed her of her husband's death. He smiled, and opened his mouth, but she held up a hand.

<hr pg="5" />"Before you start," she said. "What's your name?"



"Agent Thompson."



"No, Agent Thompson, your first name. Given what's going on, I'm not going to call you 'agent'."



"Jake," he said. "Call me Mike."



"Okay, Mike." She sighed. "What's next?"



"You're going to have visitors."



"Visitors?"



<a></a>Nicole motioned at a nearby chair, and her new best friend, Agent Mike, took a seat. He adjusted something at his waist, and she glimpsed his service pistol. It made no sense, but at that moment, she wished she'd insisted on bringing her own firearms with her. She had a concealed carry license in Texas, and she knew David could pull strings, and get her one in this state. But she hadn't, and her preferred carry pistol was still in her ex-husband's safe. She pushed the thought away and motioned at Mike.



"Who's coming?"



"Grief counselors will be here soon." He held up a hand at her look. "It's standard procedure. If you don't want them to stay, that's fine."



"Next."



"You received a call from a woman calling herself Cynthia."



"I know her."



"Good. Because she's probably already on her way. She called from the airport." Nicole nodded, and he pulled out a small writing pad. "Would you mind giving me her full name?"



She did and added. "She's good people."



"I'm sure she is," he added, as he wrote. "Also, your real estate agent called, and asked if he could visit. He said it was urgent."



Nicole kept her face impassive and considered Mike's last statement. Her real estate agent was part of The Organization. It was a shadowy, private group formed around a lifestyle, and it had no other name than "The Organization". The Organization was formed to promote and celebrate an interracial and cuckold lifestyle, featuring a cornucopia of social, sexual, and otherwise fun activities. Nicole had been inducted into the organization, with David has her Dom, and so far, it had been a lot of fun. The scope and breadth of the organization continued to surprise her, as David informed her of the various social, political and business networks it contained. All of them carefully guarded secrets. If her real estate agent needed to see her, she had no doubt it was on behalf of The Organization.



"That's fine. Please bring him to me, when he arrives."



"A real estate agent?"



"Mike." She met his eyes. "Bring him to me."



"Yes, ma'am."



"Is that all?"



He nodded. "For now. I'll keep you informed as we move forward?"



"Thank you."



Mike walked outside, and she checked to make sure she was alone, before she placed her next call. It was to David's assistant, not his secretary, his assistant who was a member of The Organization. He answered on the first ring.



"Nikki?"



"Yes. It's me."



"I'm so sorry."



"What happened?"



"I'm not sure. I left David alone in his hotel suite last night after midnight. I called him early this morning, and there was no answer. I waited thirty minutes, because it was a late night, before I knocked on his door. Nothing. At that point, I called security. When they opened the door, I dismissed them, before I searched his suite. I found David unresponsive on the bathroom floor."



"Oh my god."



"Nikki, you need to hear something, and it's best if you hear it from me."



She took a deep breath to steady herself. "Go on."



"They're calling it a heart attack, but that's entirely political. The White House has already spoken to the Hospital, and the doctors. It's done. But you should know that it wasn't a heart attack. David overdosed. After I dismissed security, I found a bottle of pills next to him in the bathroom. It doesn't have a label, but I'm sure that's the cause of death."



"David wouldn't commit suicide. That's just not his way."



"Have you heard what's being said? What he's accused of?"



"No. I haven't had a chance to check the news."



"It's bad, Nikki. The White House is in full-distancing mode, and it' unlikely we'll get any help from them. Politically, David has become a third-degree burn. The Organization is doing what it can, but the story has taken on a life of its own."



"I can't believe this is happening. David said the background investigation went fine."



"Me either. What's being alleged does not sound like the man I've worked with for years."



"What's next?"



"I'm not sure, but I've been told that The Organization is sending someone to you." He took a shaky breath. "They'll have more information."



"Okay."



"Nikki, do you need anything? Can I do anything for you?"



"Just keep me informed. I've got agents around me, but I know they're censoring information. They probably think it's for my own good, but I need someone who will tell it to me straight."



"Understood. I'm here for you, and I should be back in town shortly."



"Thank you."



"You're welcome, my Queen."



She terminated the call and rolled her eyes at the name he'd called her. The Organization had a strict policy on conduct for its members, and for good reasons, but the Queen business was getting a bit much. The other women, Queens, assured her she'd get used to it, but so far, she hadn't.



Now that she felt more in control, she dialed another number. It wasn't easy, but it was necessary. Her ex-husband's voice reached her through the phone.



"Nick?"



"Nicole. Wow. How can I help?"



"First, you can tell me how the girls are doing?"



"Blissfully unaware, thank God." He took a breath. "April's at music summer camp. Y'know, the one where they don't allow electronics? Her guitar playing is really coming along, by the way."



"And Jasmine?"



"Today." He paused. "She's in St. Thomas."



"Today?"



"She went on a cruise with her friend and their family." He mentioned the family name, and she nodded to herself. They were responsible people. "It's only for a week, but the timing is perfect. Hopefully the story will have evaporated when she returns."



"Thank goodness."



"Nikki, I know it's not my place to ask anymore, but are you okay?"



"Fine."



"You sure?"



"Yes, but I have a question for you."



"Shoot."



"Are you the source of the allegations against my husband?"



The phone went silent, and a full minute passed, before Nick spoke again. "I can't believe you'd ask me that question."



"Are you?"



"No. Fuck no. And I'm hanging up now."



"Wait. Please."



"What? What do you want?"



"I'm sorry, Nick."



He sighed. "Apology accepted. Best of luck, Nikki."



The voice of her ex-husband was angry and sympathetic at the same time, and she winced as she put the phone down. Nick deserved better from her. He also wasn't the type of man who'd engage in gossip, or deliberately try to hurt someone close to her...like David. And the source of the allegations didn't matter anyway.



David was gone.



Her husband had died.



<em>What now? </em>



<a></a>The expensive antique clock said eleven thirty a.m., and Nicole decided that was close enough to p.m. to start drinking. Discretely, she poured herself a diet coke, and added a healthy splash of bourbon. Getting drunk wasn't the goal, but dammit, she still felt off-balance and out of touch with her normal emotions. Drinking may not help, but it would at least relax her a bit. She'd just settled onto a seat at their kitchen bar, when the doorbell rang. She heard Mike's voice, and another man's voice she recognized.



"Michael?"



The handsome black real estate agent appeared and flashed her his model-perfect smile. She fled into his arms, and he held her tight for a long moment. Her ability to process grief had disappeared, but strangely, her libido hadn't suffered at all. The familiar stirrings of lust ignited inside her, and for a brief moment, she wished she could take Michael into the bedroom.



His voice brushed against her ear. "How're you holding up?"



"Good. Well, as good as can be expected."



"I'm glad."



They stepped back from each other, but she wasn't ready to let go of him just yet. She slipped her hand inside of his and guided him to the kitchen.



"Can I get you anything," she asked.



"Soda would be great," he said. "It's getting warm out there."



Nicole retrieved a soda for him, and he motioned her closer. "Can we talk, privately?"



She nodded her understanding and stepped towards the door. "Mike?"



"Yes, ma'am."



"We need to discuss something private. Would you mind?"



He glanced at his watch. "It's time for me to check the grounds anyway. Just holler if you need anything."



"Thanks."



Agent Mike stepped out the door, and she faced her real estate agent. "As private as it gets right now."



"Good." He motioned her to the couch. "You'll want to sit down."



Fear spiked within her, but she didn't object, and she settled onto the couch. Michael sat facing her, and he slipped his hands over hers.



"What I'm about to tell you isn't going to be easy to hear, but it's the plain truth."



"Okay."



"David committed suicide last night." His voice was calm. "It was his choice."



"How do you-?"



"The Organization was informed of the allegations, before they hit the media. Enough news outlets had the story that stopping it was impossible, so a senior member of The Organization called David last night, they discussed his options."



"Options?"



Michael nodded. "He could've fought back. He could've claimed he was a different person, therapy, etc."



"Why didn't he do that?"



"Money. You."



"What? I don't understand."



"Nicole, these allegations wouldn't lead to criminal charges. They were only designed to ruin his career and lay the foundation for civil charges later." He held her eyes. "Civil charges that could still result in David's entire estate being lost to legal judgments."



"I see." She took a breath, steeled herself, and met his eyes. "What are the allegations against my husband."



"Wrongful death, rape, sodomy, kidnapping, and a few others."



"Holy shit!"



"Yeah. Holy shit."



"That's not the man I married."



Mike nodded and took a sip of his drink. "I agree."



"Then why-?"



"Because politics is a dirty business, and this kind of thing is too juicy for anyone to sit on."



She sat back, and felt her body deflate into the couch. What energy she'd had before simply drained out of her, and tears finally stung her eyes. Michael moved closer and drew his arms around her. They sat in silence, and to his credit, Michael didn't say anything. When her tears finally stopped, and she felt a modicum of control return to her, she moved away from him.



"You said...you." She brushed her hair away from his face. "Earlier, you said money...and you. And you meant me. Explain that, please."



Michael nodded. "The story ends with David's death. The White House is going to claim they knew nothing about his history, and that's largely true. Your marriage was discreet, and most people don't know who you are yet. You're going to disappear for a while, and you won't be available for comment. He had a lot of friends, inside and outside, of The Organization, and they'll work to suppress further stories. Essentially, the medial will be talking about something else within forty-eight hours."



"That soon?"



He shrugged. "The Organization will encourage them to move on, and believe me, they will."



"Wow. That's a lot of influence."



"Not really," he said. "Sex scandals only stay in the news if there's someone driving it, and in this case, the objective was just to derail David's chance at Attorney General. Now that he's gone, no one has any interest in keeping the story alive."



"I see." She sipped her drink and felt the soothing burn of the bourbon. "And me?"



"Where do you want to go?" He asked with a smile. "The Organization will fund a trip anywhere, all expenses paid. We'd recommend Europe or the Caribbean. The Organization has an amazing villa in Jamaica. It's private, discreet, and you can stay as long you'd like at no cost. Ultimately though, it's your decision."



"Austin?"



"We were hoping somewhere outside the U.S., but it you want to return to Austin, that's fine."



"What about everything here? David's estate?"



"The Organization has more lawyers than you can believe. You, and David's estate, are well represented. We'll keep you informed, but there isn't anything you need to do, aside from keeping a low profile. Things are muddy now, but within a few days, we should know if David's estate will be to subject to any lawsuits."



"Michael, this is embarrassing, but I think it needs to be said."



"What's that?"



"I don't have any money." She shook her head. "I mean, David's estate is all I have. I didn't ask for anything from my ex-husband, and if David's estate...."



She trailed off, and Michael covered her hands with his own. "Nicole. You're a Queen of Spades. You'll be taken care of by The Organization. Please don't worry."



"You're sure?"



"One thousand percent." He smiled. "We take care of our own. Once you've had a chance to grieve, and bury your husband, we can discuss what The Organization can offer you. Sound good?"



"Yes. Thank you."



"Great. I'll put you in touch with-."



"Nicole?" Agent Mike called from the front door. "Mind if I join you?"



She glanced at Michael, and he nodded. "Sure."



When Agent Mike appeared, he wore a wry expression. "You have another visitor. An insistent one."



"Who is it?"



"Cynthia. Is it okay if she comes in?"



"Of course." Nicole stood. "She's fine."



Agent Mike turned to leave, and at that moment, Cynthia marched in with another agent in tow. He gave Mike an apologetic look, and the senior agent waved him off. Cynthia, her ex-girlfriend and now protector, strode away from the two agents, and wrapped her in a tight hug.



"I missed you, honey. Are you okay?"



"Okay, I guess," she replied. "It's good to see you, Cyn."



The embrace was tight enough to prevent her from responding, and she didn't mind at all. She'd missed Cynthia, too, and holding her once more felt amazing. They held their embrace for several moments, before Cynthia stepped back, and kissed her lightly.



"Let's get you out of here."



Nicole stuttered. "I just can't leave."



"Bullshit. I chartered a jet. It's at the airport, and your security goons can have us there in a few minutes."



"Chartered a jet?"



"Hey, no judgments," she said, with a wide smile. "Your ex-husband made me rich, and a girl's gotta live."



Nicole had no response, so she did the next best thing. She stalled for time. "Cynthia, this is Michael."



"Michael." She held out her hand, and her eyes appraised him. "You're handsome."



"And your ummm...candid."



Cynthia was tall, an ex-athlete, ex-professional cheerleader, and current statuesque blond. Despite her height though, she had to look up to meet Michaels eyes, and Nicole could see her approval. Cynthia liked tall men, and while she'd married and divorced a white man, she'd dated her share of black men. Based on the approval in her eyes, Nicole judged she was about to fall off the Lesbian bandwagon again. For his part, Michael seemed to enjoy meeting Cynthia too, and Nicole felt a strange stab of jealousy.



<em>What's wrong with me?</em>



"Nice to meet you," Cynthia said, when their hands broke.



"Same here." Michael turned to her. "Cynthia has a good idea. Leaving, I mean. It fits with what we discussed earlier."



"What did you discuss?" Cynthia asked.



She nodded at Michael and faced Cynthia. "How do you feel about taking a vacation?"



A smile slid over Cynthia's lips. "What are we waiting for?"



"Excellent." Michael pulled a card from his wallet. "A chartered jet is perfect. Contact this person when you're airborne? They can make all the arrangements for you, and more important, they can make it's done discreetly."



"Let's go." Cynthia took her hand. "We'll call them on the way to the airport. You choose the destination, and I'm paying for everything."



"Cyn," she objected.



"Shush," she replied, and glanced at Michael. "We'll use your travel person, but I'll handle the cost of the trip. Nicole won't be taking any money from your...organization. Whatever the hell it is."



"Don't be mean," she said.



"I'm not being mean, and I won't allow someone to take advantage of you, Nikki."



Michael held up his hands. "It's okay. Please, have fun."



"Thank you, Michael," Nicole said.



"You're welcome. I'll be in touch, as soon as I have new information."



Cynthia patted her ass. "Let's go. You're all mine, baby."



"You are so bad."



As they approached the door, Cynthia smiled at her. "Hang back. I'll talk to the security guys."



Nicole waited just inside the door and listened as her ex-girlfriend started giving orders. Surprisingly, they were obeyed, and Nicole suspected the guards were relieved to have her moving to an undisclosed location. A few minutes later, Cynthia stuck her head inside the door.



"Let's go."



Nicole let herself be led by Cynthia, but they didn't head for the obvious rental car parked at the curb. Instead, Agent Mike motioned them towards a large SUV, with dark tinted windows. A media van had setup across the street, and two more were just arriving. It seemed her timing was perfect. They climbed into the SUV, and the driver swung them onto the road with practiced ease. Mike glanced back at them.



"Airport in twenty minutes."



"Do you know which terminal-?"



"Yes. We're familiar with the private terminals, and we've already informed your charter that you're on the way. They've filed a flight plan for Austin, Texas, but that's easily changed. Once your airborne let them know your new destination, and they'll file a new flight plan."



"Thank you."



"You're welcome, Nicole."



She leaned against Cynthia's firmly muscled body and tried to process her own emotions. Grief was lingering just beyond her reach, and she suspected it would hit her hard later. Right now, though, she was hyper-aware of how good Cynthia felt next to her, and her mind kept wondering if she still looked good naked.



<em>I should be grieving, but instead I'm...horny?</em>



<a></a>The plane touched down, and Nicole started awaking. Cynthia looked up from her magazine, stroked her leg, and smiled. "Hey, you're awake."



Her brain was still foggy. "Where?"



"Jamaica, Mon." Cynthia's voice held a bad island accent.



"I thought we'd have a layover or something."



She chuckled. "Not in this baby."



The Gulfstream V Cynthia had chartered was an amazing aircraft, and Nicole barely felt the aircraft slow and leave the runway. She stood, walked towards the back of the aircraft, and marveled at how nice even the restrooms were on this plane. When she returned, the aircraft had parked, and the door stood open.



"C'mon." Cynthia kissed her cheek and took her hand. "Michael said someone would meet us."



"Sounds good."



They stepped out of the door, and into the warm, humid air of Jamaica. Nicole was surprised to see how mountainous it was. The mountains obviously didn't have snow-capped peaks, but Jamaica was not the flat island she'd always supposed it was. A light pull on her hand reminded Nicole that she was still attached to her ex-girlfriend, and likely to remain so for the foreseeable future. They walked into a small terminal, and a gorgeous woman approached them. She had lightly tanned skin, rich dark hair, and the kind of curves that stopped traffic in any country in the world.



"Hello," she said, and smiled at them. "Nicole? Cynthia?"



"I'm Cynthia." She nudged Nicole. "And this is Nicole."



"I'm Shyla, and I'll be assisting you while you're on the island."



"Thank you," Nicole said.



"You're welcome," she replied. "Will you follow me?"



Shyla turned, and Cynthia gave Nicole a discreet glance, followed by a sly smile. She smiled back. Cynthia had been thinking exactly the same thing as Nicole.



Shyla was hot.



They reached a desk, with a uniformed guard, and found all the necessary paperwork had been completed. Their stay was open-ended, and all that was required was her signature. Shyla led them out the front, and towards what looked like a brand-new SUV. A heavily-built man stood next to it, and within minutes of arriving, they were driving towards their destination.

<hr pg="6" />"Where are we going?" Nicole asked.



"I booked us a suite at a resort," Cynthia said.



Shyla nodded. "We are heading towards the resort you booked through the organization, but I've been instructed to offer you accommodations elsewhere on the island."



"Elsewhere?"



"A villa," she replied. "It has a private beach, security, and all the amenities you'll find at a resort. The best thing though, is there are no tourists."



"We'd have it to ourselves?"



She shook her head. "Not quite. Another Queen arrived yesterday. She's staying at the villa, and you'd be sharing it with her. The villa is large enough though, that your privacy would be assured."



"It's that big?"



She smiled. "Oh yes."



Cynthia glanced at her, skeptical, and she nodded. "We'll stick with the resort."



"I have an idea," Shyla said. "Why don't you get settled at the resort, and tomorrow, we can tour the villa. You can always move there, if you want."



"Sounds good," Cynthia said. She cocked her head at Shyla. "Are you from Jamaica?"



"Yes. Born and raised. My family is originally from Mumbai though, and my parents immigrated in the late eighties."



"Are you a...," Nicole trailed off, not sure how to ask the question on her lips.



"A Queen?" She nodded. "Yes. I've been a Queen for several years now."



"Are you staying at the Villa?"



"No. That's for guests and parties. I have a home near Negril." Shyla took a breath, and hesitated for a moment, before she met Nicole's eyes. "I'd like to express my sorrow for your loss. While I wasn't close with David, we'd met several times at Organization functions. He was a nice man."



"Thank you," Nicole said. "I still can't believe he's gone."



"Take it slow," she said. "I've lost loved ones, and everyone processes grief differently. I understand your friend has offered to bear the cost of this trip, but if you need anything at all...please let me know."



The SUV slowed and turned onto a long driveway lined with palm trees. Several vans and buses were parked at the end of the long driveway, and large groups of guests stood nearby. Nicole couldn't tell if they'd just arrived, or if they were leaving. Shyla said something to the driver, and he nodded, and drove past the throng of bodies. When they stopped, they were met by two people in matching uniforms, and just like the airport, Cynthia and Nicole were whisked along.



"Here we are."



Shyla opened the double doors, and Nicole gasped. "Oh wow. It's beautiful."



The doors opened to a wide, spacious suite that was beautifully appointed, but that wasn't what caused her to gasp. The opposite wall was composed entirely of windows, and the drapes had been drawn back. As a result, when the doors opened, they were greeted with a view of the ocean that was beyond anything Nicole had ever seen. The white sandy beach was amazing, and small boats dotted the water.



"It's like a painting," she gasped.



"Villa's better," Shyla said, with a wink.



"Better?" Cynthia asked. "Better than this?"



"Opinions vary," Shyla replied. "You'll have to judge for yourself."



Shyla took a moment to introduce them to their private butler and explain some of the features of the resort. Their butler took over, and gave them a guided tour of the suite, including their own small swimming pool. Nicole gave up trying to remember everything, and when decorum permitted she gave Cynthia a level look.



"Okay," Cynthia said. "We're a bit tired from the flight. Can we get some privacy? A moment to rest?"



"Of course," Shyla said.



Nicole smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Shyla."



Shyla smiled, stepped forward, and hugged her gently. "You're welcome. Call if you need anything."



"I will."



When Shyla stepped back, Cynthia smiled at her. "Can I get one of those?"



The ladies laughed, and Shyla hugged Cynthia, too.



A moment later, Cynthia closed and locked the doors to their suite, and Nicole stopped at the bar. It was fully stocked, and she studied it for a moment, before she chose a dark rum, and poured three fingers over ice. The first swallow burned, but the sweet rum was exactly what she needed, and another swallow soon followed. The potent liquor relaxed her body, and she slumped onto the couch, staring out at the water.



"Want some company?"



"Of course." She patted the cushion next to her. "Sit with me."



Her beautiful, blond ex-girlfriend sat next to her, sipping her own drink, and studied her. "It's okay to cry, Nikki. It's just us."



"I know," she said, with a sigh. "Truthfully though, I'm still trying to come to grips with the fact that my husband is dead. It's just so sudden."



"David was young," she agreed.



"And I don't know why I'm not sad, or crying my eyes out, or...shit! I don't know how I'm supposed to feel, and I don't understand why I'm soooo fucking...!"



"What?"



"Excited. Turned on. Aroused. All I want to do is rip your clothes off and lose myself in sex." She finished her drink and met Cynthia's eyes. "Does that make any sense?"



Cynthia didn't respond for a long moment, and when she did respond, it wasn't with words. She put her drink down on the table, stood, and slipped out of her clothes. A moment later, Nicole's eyes drank in the beautiful sight of her naked, athletic girlfriend.



"I'm here for you, Nikki," Cynthia breathed. "In any way you desire. If you want to fuck, let's fuck until we can't move. Shopping? Let's max out my credit card. Wanna get drunk? Bring on the shots."



Cynthia pulled her to her feet and kissed her. A long, slow kiss that caused the embers inside Nicole to burst into a white-hot bonfire of lust. When their lips parted, Nicole could barely breathe, but she pulled Cynthia close, and hissed.



"Let's fuck!"



**SX Scene**



<a></a>Nicole's body ached with fatigue, and after urgent, fulfilling, and raw love-making, she should be fast asleep. Still, her mind and heart wouldn't let her sleep. After her intense sexual escapades with Cynthia, she left her ex-girlfriend sleeping in the huge master suite and wandered out the living room.



She sat staring out at the dark water, and finally succumbed to the realization of David's death. The grief she'd been keeping at bay hit hard, and waves of raw grief crashed against the shore of her emotions. Time and again, they slammed into her, reminding her that her husband had committed suicide, and the reasons for it. She'd been quietly crying for hours, and the sky was just beginning to lighten. It wouldn't be long before dawn broke, and she'd face the first day of life without her husband.



David, her husband, lover, and Dom, was gone.



A box of tissues sat next to her, and close by was a waste basket that was almost overflowing with used tissues. She grabbed another tissue, wiped her eyes and sniffed. The life they'd planned was over. The plans they'd made had evaporated with his death. The good man she'd known in life, had been revealed as a predator in death, and she was left trying to reconcile the man she'd loved with the man now splashed in the news. In the end, the rumors, accusations, and innuendos didn't matter.



She was alone.



Cynthia slept in the next room, but they were inconsistent lovers, and Nicole knew Cynthia wanted more than she could give her. It wouldn't be today, tomorrow, or next week, but eventually Cynthia would go her own way. Nicole's daughters were nearly grown, and they had their own lives with Nick and Cassidy. She'd see them as often as possible, but nothing would change the fact that their lives had separated when she divorced Nick. And her ex-husband. She snorted lightly.



Nick had his new wife. His new life. His new business. And his money.



It seemed crass to think about money at a time like this, but she'd been born and raised poor, and the memories of having little money would never leave her. Nicole had disregarded everyone's advice, and not taken a dime from her ex-husband in the divorce. David had assured her she didn't need Nick's money, and like every love-sick spouse everywhere, she followed his advice and agreed to accept nothing in the divorce decree. Now, her husband was dead, and his estate, his money, were in question. A sliver of worry cut through her grief, and she knew it would only grow. The simple, sad fact was that David's death, and the possible lawsuits that followed, could leave her penniless. Destitute.



Her phone buzzed from across the room. A sigh left her chest, and after a long moment, she rose and retrieved it. There were a dozen texts, more emails than she wanted to count, and a single voice mail. Her eyebrows pursed, and she cocked her head. A single voice mail? And it wasn't from Michael. She didn't recognize the number, and this number was private. She punched the right buttons and pressed the phone against her ear.



<em>Nicole. It's Shyla. I apologize for using this number, but it seemed the best way to reach you. The Organization is sending someone to Jamaica to provide you an update. They'll be staying at the villa, and at your convenience, I'll take you by to meet with them. Everyone within The Organization understands how difficult this time is for you, so please take your time. I'll stop by tomorrow to check on you.</em>



Nicole set her phone down and stepped onto the patio. The warm air enveloped her, and the soft sounds of the ocean smoothed her jagged emotions. She'd heard somewhere that the ocean heals, and right now, she needed healing. There was a purity provided by the rhythmic waves, stead breeze, and timeless beauty that only the ocean could provide. Instinctively, she knew it would take time to get over the loss of her husband, but at that moment, she sensed the healing process begin. She stretched out on the couch, staring at the water, and the lightening sky, and felt her eyes grow heavy. A single thought wafted through her brain, before she surrendered to sleep.



<em>The villa sounds nice.</em>



***



When her eyes opened again, she found herself in bed. She blinked several times and brushed her hair out of her face. The sun was up, and a glance at the clock told her it was past noon. Her bladder complained, and she slipped into the restroom. She avoided looking in the mirror, and instead stepped into the luxurious shower. The hot water cascaded over her skin, and after a moment, she cooled it, and felt herself come fully awake. A sly smile appeared on her lips when she saw the hickies Cynthia had left on her stomach, and breasts. Little ones, already fading, but they were reminders that someone loved her unconditionally, and she desperately needed love right now. She finished the shower, and a full twenty minutes passed, before she left the bathroom, and found some simple clothes laid out on the bed.



Cynthia must've gone shopping.



Fortunately, they were her size, and she knew Cynthia picked them out for two reasons. First, they fit her perfectly. Second, they showed off her figure, something she knew Cynthia loved to admire. After a last check in the mirror, she walked out wearing simple shorts, a tank top, and flip flops.



"There she is," Cynthia greeted. She kissed her lightly. "Hungry?"



"Famished."



She motioned towards the kitchen. "Fruit is on the table, and that syrup you call coffee is waiting for you, too. Now that you're up, I'll order some eggs and bacon."



"And a waffle," she added.



"And a waffle," Cynthia repeated.



The clock may have said it was past noon, but her body still wanted breakfast, and she suspected Cynthia felt the same. She munched on melon slices and sipped her coffee. It wasn't too sweet, no matter what her ex-girlfriend said. It was perfect.



When the gorgeous blond returned, she wore an outfit similar to Nicole's, and she caught her glance. "It's the best they had in the gift shop. If you're feeling better, we can do a little shopping later."



"I'm always ready to shop."



Her girlfriend laughed. "I figured."



"Shyla?"



"She called while you were sleeping," Cynthia said.



"Is she hot or what?"



Cynthia nodded. "Totally. Think she likes girls?"



"I think you should ask," she said, without missing a beat. "Anyway, when is she coming by?"



"An hour or so." Cynthia shrugged, and sipped her drink. It looked like a mixed drink. "I've decided not to watch the clock. What happens, will happen, and I don't care, as long as we're together."



"Thanks." Nicole squeezed her hand. "For everything."



"How're you holding up?"



She took a deep breath. "Better."



"I heard you crying last night, but I thought you wanted privacy."



"I did. Thank you." She sipped her coffee. "I've accepted my husband's death, and I know he wouldn't want me to wallow in self-pity, or grief, but I'm not sure how to start over. It seems all I have are questions."



"You're not alone, Nikki." Cynthia hugged her. "We'll figure it out together."



"And The Organization?"



"What about them?"



"Cyn, I'm a member. A Queen. I can't just walk away."



"Bullshit! Sure, you can."



She met Cynthia's beautiful blue eyes, and she whispered. "I don't <em>want</em> to walk away."



"We don't have to make any decisions today, Nikki."



"I know."



"Besides, I'm not letting you out of my sight, so I hope this Organization grants visitors passes or something."



Nikki giggled. "They'll probably try and recruit you."



"We'll see, girlfriend."



Cynthia's comment was light-hearted, and they both accepted it, but Nikki knew Cynthia well enough that she suspected her ex-girlfriend was considering it. Yes, Cynthia preferred women, but she liked men, too. Inwardly, she dismissed the line of thought.



<em>Slow. Steady. Focus on today. Tomorrow will take care of itself. </em>



<a></a>The knock at the door was timed perfectly, because Nicole and Cynthia were trying to decide what to do next. The bar in their room was beckoning, and they were seriously considering spending the day in a naked, drunken stupor. It was a tantalizing option, but given their sex from the previous night, it seemed a bit like overkill. And Nicole still had areas that were rubbed a little raw and could use a break. So, it was with relief that they opened the doors, and saw the gorgeous Shyla smiling at them.



Cynthia had just finished her second drink when she smiled widely at Shyla and asked a question that made Nicole cover her face. No hello. She didn't invite Shyla inside. Instead, in typical Cynthia fashion, she went right for the jugular.



"Do you like girls?"



Shyla laughed. "You are precious." The lightly tanned, curvaceous woman stepped inside, and kissed Cynthia on the cheek. "Yes. I like girls."



"Yayyyy!"



Nicole stood, and Shyla hugged her lightly. "How are you feeling?"



"Better. Not good, but better."



"Of course," she said, with a sympathetic nod. "To be expected."



"Can we offer you anything Shyla?"



"No. Thank you." She shook her head. "And I'm here to ask you the same question. Jamaica is beautiful, and you're on island-time now, so how about I show you some of my home?"



Cynthia glanced at her, and she smiled. "Sounds great."



"Excellent," Shyla replied. "Let's go."



When they reached the lobby, Nicole expected to see another large SUV with dark windows, but Shyla surprised them again. She walked up to the valet and spoke quietly for a moment. He nodded, said a few words, and she squeezed his arm in thanks. Shyla walked back to them.



"We've got options."



"Options?" Cynthia asked.



"The hotel has a jeep, a convertible, and a Range Rover." She smiled. "Which one do you want? Although, I must tell you the convertible is a two-seater, so someone will have someone else on their lap."



"Convertible," she said. "Definitely, the convertible."



Cynthia pulled her sunglasses down and peered over them at her. "Who gets you on their lap?"



She winked back. "Whoever wants me."



"Cynthia will get the pleasure," Shyla said, with a laugh. "I have to drive."



Their host walked back to the Valet, and a few minutes later a Mercedes convertible pulled up. The attendant got out, bowed to Shyla, and opened the door for them. As they were getting seated, with Nicole on Cynthia's lap, they heard the attendant refer to Shyla as Queen, and Cynthia gave her a level look.



"The Organization takes this Queen stuff seriously, don't they?" Cynthia asked when they were on the road.



Shyla shrugged. "Every organization I'm aware of has protocol for members to follow. Ours is no different. Referring to someone as Queen is simply the same thing as saying, sir or ma'am."



Cynthia clearly expected Shyla to continue, but after sharing a knowing glance with Nicole she fell silent. Nikki leaned closer and whispered in Cynthia's ear.



"Shyla can only share so much information. The Organization has rules about discretion."



"What about you?"



"The rules apply to me, too, Cyn."



"How do I learn more." She gave her ex-girlfriend a long, quiet look, and Cynthia nodded in understanding. "By joining."



She nodded. "Exactly."



Cynthia let the subject drop, and Nicole took that moment to address Shyla.



"Where are we going first?"



"Shopping, of course."



As they drove, Shyla spoke passionately about her home, and she pointed out interesting sights, and buildings. Nicole found herself entranced by Shyla's accent, her gorgeous features. That she was beautiful was undeniable, but she was also extremely intelligent, and Nicole wasn't surprised when she listed Oxford as her alma mater. Shyla informed them that her family ran several successful businesses on the island, and when she wasn't assisting The Organization, she helped her father run them.



"We learn the Queen's English in school," Shyla said. "But the language of the island is Patois, pronounced Pat-wah, and it has its own history."



"Say something in Patois."



Shyla rattled off what sounded like several sentences, and Cynthia and Nicole shook their heads in confusion. The words were spoken so quickly, with the vowels, consonants, and syllables completely out of place, that they couldn't follow even the smallest bit of her speech. Shyla laughed.



"It's easy to pick up. If you stay long enough, I'll teach you, and before long you'll become a "J'American."



"J'American?"



"US citizens who spend a lot of time on the island. They're not Jamaica's...they're J'Americans."



The ladies laughed, and for a brief moment, Nicole found she could forget her grief. It felt good. Shyla pulled into an upscale strip mall, and Nicole carefully disengaged herself from Cynthia's lap. Her blond companion squeezed her but as she got out of the vehicle, and she pinched her boob in response.



"My favorite place on the island to shop," Shyla said. "You'll find just about anything you want here. Don't worry about getting it back to your hotel, the shop owners know me. They'll deliver your purchases to the hotel, and they'll be in your room when you return."



"Excellent," Cynthia said.



"Bathing suit," Nicole added. "I need one."



Shyla motioned for her to follow. "This way. I know the perfect store."



The next hour was spent shopping, with Shyla taking them from store to store, and in many cases, getting them discounts. The bathing suit store took most of the time though, because Nicole opted for a conservative suit, and Shyla and Cynthia convinced her to purchase several more that were significantly more revealing.



"You still have to live, Nikki," Cynthia reminded her.



"And you don't have to wear the skimpy ones," Shyla agreed. "But it's better to have them, and not need them, then to see a gorgeous guy, and find yourself wearing grandma's bathing suit."



"It's not a grandma suit," she protested.



Shyla's raised eyebrows were her only response, and Nicole glared at both women. She still purchased the conservative suit and resolved to wear it at least once. Before they finished shopping, Shyla stopped them.



"What do you want to do next?"

<hr pg="7" />"Beach?" Cynthia asked, and glanced at her.



"Yes," she replied. "Beach."



"Perfect." Shyla motioned them towards the fitting rooms. "Put on your suits, sunscreen, and we'll get going. I know the perfect spot."



A few minutes later, they were back in the car. Shyla had changed into her own bathing suit, and all of them wore light mesh dresses that covered their bodies, and bathing suits. In Nicole's case, Cynthia commented that she didn't need one of the light dresses, because her suit covered her body well enough. She stuck her tongue out at the blond woman but didn't reply. If Cynthia had her way, she'd go naked everywhere.



"Shyla?" She asked.



"Yes."



"Doesn't Jamaica have nude beaches?"



She laughed. "Yes. Do you want to go?"



"No," she replied. "I was just curious."



Cynthia gave her an odd look, and Shyla glanced at her. "The Villa's beach is private enough to go nude, if you'd like. It's beautiful, and I promise, it's completely secure."



"Thanks."



They arrived at the beach, and Shyla arranged for their own chairs, umbrella's, and even a personal waiter. They settled into their lounge chairs, and Nicole stared out at the azure waters. The beach was full of tourists, but their position was slightly apart, and it gave them a great view of the entire beach. She noticed a throng of people near the tree line.



"What's that?" She asked and pointed. "Over there."



"Dunn's River Falls." She sipped her drink. "It's a natural waterfall, and it leads up into the forest."



"A waterfall?" Cynthia asked.



"Yes. People, tourists mostly, climb the falls. It's not a straight-down style waterfall. It has pools, short drops, and there are guides to help you climb. A lot of people enjoy it."



"How about you?"



She shook her head. "I grew up here."



"I know what you mean," Nicole said, with a nod. "I grew up in San Antonio, and I never visited the Alamo unless friends or family came to town."



"Let's try it, Nikki," Cynthia said. "It'll be fun. Will you come with us?"



Shyla shook her head. "You go ahead. I'll arrange for a guide."



A moment later, their water guided a man over, and he introduced himself. He bowed slightly to Nicole, and shook Cynthia's hand, before he motioned for them to follow. He glanced over his shoulder at Shyla.



"Did you tell them the secret."



She laughed. "Nope."



"Secret?" Cynthia asked.



Their guide smiled. "Yeah, mon."



As they approached the group of people, the other guides made room for them. One of them flashed their guide a hand signal, and he nodded back.



"Thank you, mon."



"What was that?" Nicole asked.



"Time," he replied. "They delayed a large group, so we could climb the falls by ourselves. Sometimes it gets really crowded, and we wanted to make sure you enjoyed the falls by yourselves." He shrugged. "It's only a ten-minute delay for the others."



"Wow," Cynthia breathed. "Nice."



He smiled and held out his hand. "Ready?"



Cynthia placed her hand in his and grabbed Nicole. Like kindergartners, they linked hands, and started forward. They'd only taken a few steps when Cynthia gasped, her face shocked, and her breathing ragged.



"Cold! Oh My God! The water's freezing!"



A second later, she tugged Nicole forward, and her foot plunged into the icy, clear water.



"Holy shit! That's cold."



Their guide laughed. "And that's the secret."



It took a moment, but their bodies adjusted, and they started up the falls. Shyla had been correct, Dunn's River Falls was an easy climb, and it was beautiful. The water cascaded down rocks, formed in small pools, and cut a small path through the trees. After they'd climbed a good bit, the stopped and turned around. Through the trees, they had a beautiful view of the beach and the ocean.



Cynthia pulled her close and pressed her lips to her ears. "Life is worth living, Nikki."



She smiled at Cynthia and nodded. "Thanks."



Nicole studied her Cynthia's body as they climbed, and the familiar stirrings of lust swelled inside her. The athletic blond had a body that could've graced the cover of any women's magazine on the planet, and her face was model-perfect. Nikki sometimes felt clumsy around her, and today was no exception. Cynthia moved up the falls with the smooth athleticism that made Nicole feel slow and awkward. They finished their climb, took tons of pictures, and made their way back to the beach. Fortunately, the way down was much easier, and faster than the way up. Shyla smiled at them from her lounge chair.



"Did you figure out the secret?"



"Yes, you sexy bitch," Cynthia said. "My nipples are still rock hard."



Their gorgeous tour guide laughed and lifted her drink. "I'm glad you liked it."



"We did," Nicole said. "What are your plans for tonight, Shyla?"



"I'm visiting with the other Queen I mentioned earlier, at the villa, but after that, I'm free." She paused for a moment. "You're welcome to come with me, and tour the villa, or, I can meet you at the resort later."



"Let us think about it," Cynthia said.



"No worries," Shyla replied. "<em>Every-ting is irie, mon</em>."



<a></a>Shyla dropped them off at the resort with a wave, and she held her hand to her ear in the universal sign for them to 'Call Me'. Nicole nodded, smiled, and watched her leave for a moment. Shyla's hand signal had been for her, and as Queens, she knew they needed to spend some time alone. There were things Shyla couldn't say in front of Cynthia.



"You coming?" Cynthia said.



She nodded. "Yes. Sorry."



When the door to their suite closed, Cynthia pulled her close. "How are you holding up?"



"Good." She forced a smile and shrugged. "A little out of sorts, truthfully. I feel a bit stretched between two extremes."



Cynthia pulled her to the couch. "Go on."



"All this." She waved a hand to indicate the suite, and the ocean. "It's beautiful. It's amazing. I'm here with my best friend, and I'm having a good time."



"But?"



"But my husband just died, and I'm struggling to manage my emotions. Part of me feels like I should be crying my eyes out all day long. Another part thinks this is what the healing process looks like. Another part wants to visit the Villa with Shyla, find a gorgeous black man, and fuck until I can't stand up."



"Wow. That's quite a spectrum."



She covered her face. "See! I'm not sure how to feel. I miss David. I loved my husband. But he's gone now, and I don't know what to do, or how to feel, and maybe I shouldn't be enjoying myself. Does that make me a bad wife?"



Her voice had grown, and her rate of speech increased, and instead of answering, Cynthia wrapped her arms around her, and pulled her tight against her. Tears sprang to Nicole's eyes, and she started sobbing. A moment passed, before Cynthia slid her arms underneath her, stood, and carried her into the bedroom. They slipped under the covers, and her girlfriend held her close.



"I-."



"Shush." Cynthia pressed a finger against her lips. "You don't have to talk, Nikki."



"But, I'd like to-."



"Silence. Silence is golden."



"Wait." She pulled away from Cynthia. "Will you let me finish?"



"I'm sorry. What?"



"Shower." She ran a hand through her hair. "I may be emotionally brittle right now, but I've got layers of sunscreen and sweat on my skin, and sand in my hair. I need a shower, Cyn."



"Oh. I thought-."



"C'mon." She smiled. "You can console me, naked, in the shower."



"Now you're talking."



Nikki led the way into the huge shower, and within moments steam billowed around them. Surprisingly, they didn't have more sex. They were naked, attracted to each other, but the vibe just wasn't' there, and she decided not to press. Instead, Cynthia washed her body from head to toe, and took her time doing it. When she finished, she received the same treatment from Cynthia.



"What's on your mind?" Cynthia asked, when they were finished.



"Why do you think some thing's my mind?"



Nicole received a level look as a reply.



"Okay. Okay." She held up her hands. "Guilty."



"You wanna visit the villa, don't you?" Cynthia asked.



"Don't you?"



She shrugged. "I'm curious, but I wouldn't be disappointed if we stuck with the suite for our entire visit."



"You don't have to come," she said, gently. "But Shyla and I need to spend some time together."



"Are you?" Her voice trailed off.



"No." She shook her head. "I'm not interested in Shyla. She's gorgeous, but I only have room in my life for one woman, and you're it."



Relief washed over Cynthia's face, and she kissed her lightly. "Thank you."



"But Cyn." She slipped her hand inside Cynthia's. "I won't be jealous, if you want to spend time with Shyla, too. It's obvious you two are attracted to each other."



She cocked her head. "You'd share me...with Shyla?"



"Of course, honey. It would be super-hypocritical of me to do otherwise, and besides, I like to see you happy."



"You make me happy."



She inclined her head. "Thank you. But I've seen the way you look at Shyla. I suspect she could make you very happy."



Nicole hit the word 'very' hard, and Cynthia blushed.



"Okay. I'm hot for Shyla." She stared hard at Nicole, measuring her. "You're absolutely sure you won't be upset if something happens between us?"



She held her eyes. "I promise. Enjoy yourself, Cyn."



Cynthia finished drying her body and wrapped a towel around her head. She slipped on a sheer bra, and a matching pair of thong panties. Nicole gave a low whistle, and Cynthia shook her butt in her direction. Nicole slapped it lightly.



"Nice. Ass."



"Thank you, baby." Cynthia admired herself in the mirror for a moment, before she turned back to Nicole. "Let's call Shyla and have dinner at the villa."



"Sounds good. I'll call her."



"We should probably pack an overnight bag," Cynthia blurted, and a blush colored her cheeks. "Y'know. Just to be safe."



Nicole chuckled. "Right."



She left the bathroom, dressed in comfortable clothes, and walked to the living room. She stopped for a moment to appreciate the ocean view, before she picked up the phone.



"Shyla?"



"Nicole. Thanks for calling."



"You're welcome. Is the invitation still open?"



"Of course, yes." Shyla paused. "Will Cynthia be joining you?"



"Yes. She'd like to tour the villa, too, and between you and me, I think she's hoping you'll be the tour guide."



Shyla laughed. "Great. Are you interested in dinner?"



"That would be great."



"Excellent. I'll send a car for you, and the drive isn't far."



"Thank you."



"While I have you," she said. "Can you speak privately?"



"Yes. I'm alone."



"Good. Michael arrived from D.C. to speak with you."



"I see."



"I'd planned on having Michael join us, and you can speak to him privately after dinner. Does that sound acceptable?"



"Yes." She nodded to herself. "That sounds perfect."



"I'm happy you agree. I've just met Michael, but he's handsome and a perfect gentleman. I can't imagine The Organization choosing a better person."



"Michael and I aren't-. I mean, we haven't-." She sighed and shook her head. "Michael is great, but he was our real estate agent, and nothing more."



"I understand, Nicole. But if you're interested in reserving him for the night, please let me know soon. The other Queen met him earlier, and I suspect she's interested in entertaining him."



"She can have him, Shyla," she said, firmly. "I'm not ready."



If Shyla was surprised, her voice didn't show it. "I understand perfectly. Take your time."



"Thanks. We'll meet your driver at the entrance."



"See you soon."



<a></a>Nicole and Cynthia stood waiting for their ride to the villa. Neither spoke. They'd tried to make conversation, but each attempt died a quick death, and by silent, mutual consent, they left each other to their own thoughts. Nicole took a deep breath of the island air. Jamaica was a beautiful island, and she resolved to visit it again, under better circumstances. Her eyes glanced at the athletic blond, and she repressed a smile.



<em>Cynthia likes Shyla.</em>



Her hand kept tucking her hair behind her ear. She shifted in place, checked her watch, and a faraway smile tugged at her lips. These were unconscious signs Nicole knew well, because they were the signs Cynthia used to exhibit when their relationship was new. Despite her loss, and despite her grief over David's death, Nicole felt happy for Cynthia. A sense of relief also swelled within her, because she couldn't be Cynthia's girlfriend...at least not on a regular basis. She had responsibilities, obligations, and if she were honest with herself, she had desires that Cynthia just couldn't satisfy.



A soft, warm hand on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts, and Cynthia whispered. "She's here."



"Calm yourself."



"What?" Her voice was defensive. "I'm fine."



"Whatever."



Nicole rolled her eyes, pinched her butt, and walked towards the waiting SUV. She reached the door first and held it open for Cynthia. The tall, athletic blond sashayed up to the vehicle, and a surprised smile split her lips. Nicole had to suppress a giggle, because she knew what Cynthia had just seen. Shyla. Instead of driving, the gorgeous woman had ridden in the back, and Nicole had glimpsed her when she opened the door.



"Hi."



Shyla's voice was warm, and Cynthia blushed lightly. "Hi, Shyla. It's good to see you again."



"Same here."



Nicole pushed her gently, and they slipped into the back of the SUV. As usual, Shyla looked stunning, in a cream-colored dress that contrasted nicely against her darkly tanned skin. Her generous curves were on display, and Nicole had never seen legs as nicely muscled as the ones left uncovered by the cream-colored fabric.



"How's it going, ladies?"



"Fine," Nicole replied. "Interested to see this villa."



"Where is it located?" Cynthia asked.



Shyla gave them a sly smile. "You'll see."



"Oooooh," Cynthia purred. "A mystery."



"Yeah, mon." Shyla poured on the island accent. "An island mystery."



They chatted as they rode towards the villa, and Shyla entertained them with stories and information about the island. While Nicole listened politely, it was Cynthia who seemed to hang on Shyla's every word. She asked several questions, which Shyla answered with unfailing politeness, and the electricity between the two women threatened to start a fire. Cynthia was laughing at something Shyla said, when their vehicle slowed, and turned onto a narrow-paved road. The trees and flora grew close, and they slapped the windows as they drove forward. Nicole repressed a shudder, the green foliage pressed around them, and she began to feel a bit claustrophobic.



"It's okay." Shyla must've noticed her discomfort, because she leaned closer, and squeezed her arm. "We'll be through it in just a moment, and then you won't want to leave."



She swallowed, nodded, and took a breath. True to her word, the trees and plants fell abruptly away, and they emerged into the sunlight. Nicole's mouth dropped open. The trees and foliage that had scared her a moment before, had been meticulously trimmed back, and a lovely lawn covered the ground. Trees and beautiful plants dotted the landscape, and a high fence surrounded what looked like a beautiful mansion building.



"Wow," she breathed.



"After Security lets us through, I'll take you on a tour."



The SUV stopped, and three security officers surrounded the SUV. All of them were armed. One of the officers had a large dog with him, and it circled the vehicle quickly. The driver passed some paperwork to the serious-looking man standing next to the SUV, and he asked several pointed questions. The driver's answers were too low for her to hear, but they were obviously satisfactory, because he handed the paperwork back, stepped back, and waved them through.



Cynthia glanced at Shyla. "Security is tight."



"The Organization takes the safety and privacy of its members and property very seriously."



"Are we in danger?"



Shyla smiled. "No. Not at all."



"You're sure?"



"Entirely." She met their eyes. "In addition to the villa's private security, which is formidable, The Organization is on friendly terms with the local police, and the Jamaican government. I'm told we also have well-placed supporters in London who keep an eye on the island and the villa's security. Even if the Zombie Apocalypse were to envelop the island, the Villa is designed as a haven, and we have arms and supplies to survive for at least a month. The villa also has several methods of leaving the island in an emergency."



"Ummm, wow," Cynthia said.



The SUV stopped, and Shyla motioned. "Here we are."



Nicole left first, and she managed to take two steps, before she stopped and stared at the Villa. Calling it beautiful was a disservice. The building was built in a Tuscan style, with large doors, huge window's, and it was built around what looked like a central courtyard. Peace and serenity seemed to flow outward from the villa like a visual scent.



"Damn," Cynthia breathed. "Okay. We're moving here. Screw the resort."



"Compared to this villa, the resort is like a roadside motel."



"Visited a lot of roadside motels, have you?"



Cynthia nudged her. "Only with you, baby."



Shyla stepped in front of them. "C'mon, ladies."



They followed Shyla into the Villa, and Nicole and Cynthia barely spoke for the next forty-five minutes. Around every corner, seemed another beautiful view, and each room seemed even more beautifully decorated than the last. They walked across the manicured lawn and stared out at the ocean. The beach in front of them was perfect, empty, and it slowly disappeared into the clear, azure waters. Several boats were moored at a dock that sat off to one side.



"You can do anything you'd like here. Swimming, snorkeling, diving, or you can just sit on the beach under an umbrella."



"Do you come here often?"



Shyla shrugged. "For parties and events."



Cynthia shook her head. "I'd live her forever, if I could."



"Well," Shyla replied coyly. "We can talk about that later, if you'd like."



Nicole snorted. "When pigs fly maybe."



"Hey." Cynthia nudged her. "Don't make me hurt you."



"You'll lose your lesbian card."



"Let me worry about my lesbian card, you sexy minx."



Nicole stuck out her tongue towards Cynthia, before she glanced at Shyla. "Hungry. I'm hungry."



"Beach, Balcony, or Water?"



"I'm sorry?" Nicole said. "What?"



"Do you want to have dinner on the beach, one of the balconies, or a boat."



"Boat," Cynthia said quickly.



"Balcony," Nicole snapped a second later.



Shyla inclined her head. "Balcony, it is."



"Wait." Cynthia stopped, and put her hands on her hips. "What just happened?"



"Queen's privilege," Shyla said.



Before her blond girlfriend could reply, Nicole squeezed her arm. "Eat. Hungry. Argue later."



"Fine."



Nicole patted her ass lightly. "There's a good girl."



"You are in so much trouble."



<a></a>A quiet, intimate dinner turned out to be six courses of amazing food. Most of the items were unique to Jamaica, and all of it tasted amazing. In addition to the food though, Michael joined them, and the handsome real estate agent was easy company. Articulate, and quick-witted, he fit easily in their conversations, and even sparred verbally with Cynthia. In short, the dinner was fantastic, and Nicole sipped her after-dinner cappuccino slowly, savoring the bitter liquid.



Cynthia smiled at their host. "Thank you for dinner, Shyla."



"Yes," Nicole replied. "Thank you."



"You're welcome." She paused to take a sip of her own coffee, before she met Nicole's eyes. "If you don't mind, I think it's time to discuss Organization business."



She nodded. "Fine."



Cynthia glanced between them. "Should I-?"



"Remain here," Shyla said, and her eyes held Cynthia's. "Please. I'll escort Nicole and Michael to their meeting, and if you'd like, I can give you a more private, intimate tour of the villa."

<hr pg="8" />"I'd like that. Thank you."



"I'll just be a moment." She stood, and motioned. "Nicole, Michael, if you please."



Nicole rose, followed Shyla, and Michael dropped in behind her. Shyla took them into a large library and approached one of the bookcases. She stopped, faced the book case, and waited. Several seconds passed, before the bookcases slid apart, revealing a descending set of stairs, and Shyla immediately started descending.



Michael let out a low whistle. "Secret passage."



"Hardly a secret," Shyla said. "But it is monitored by security."



"What's down here."



"Offices." She glanced over her shoulder, and a smile in her eyes. "And rooms designed for various...activities."



"I see."



Shyla stopped before a pair of large, mahogany doors. She knocked, waited a moment, and in the silence of the basement hallway, the clicking sound of heavy locks opening reverberated. Despite Shyla's assurances, Nicole couldn't help noticing just how secure this villa was, and she started to wonder if it was designed to keep people out...or prevent people from leaving.



Probably both.



They stepped into a lavishly, but tastefully, decorated office. Shyla closed the door behind them, and Nicole and Michael glanced at each other before walking towards the desk that dominated one side of the office. Behind the desk sat a woman, holding a phone to her ear, and she glanced at them.



"Please, have a seat. I'm almost finished."



She spoke English with no accent and motioned them to the chairs in front of her desk. Nicole couldn't help studying her. Another Queen. The lady was poised, confident, and roughly the same age as herself. She wore a tailored business suit, and Nicole could tell her body was shapely and well-muscled. The woman finally replied into the phone, and Nicole recognized the language. Spanish. Cultured, educated Spanish. The kind spoken in Spain, not in the Americas. She kept her expression impassive, but she listened carefully to the one-sided conversation. The woman was giving orders, and her tone held the unmistakable ring of command. Finally, she said a few pleasantries, and terminated the call.



"I apologize," she said, and rose. She stepped around the desk and held out her hand to Michael. "It's nice to see you again, Michael."



"Likewise."



Catherine turned to Nicole and studied her for a moment. Her eyes held a mixture of sympathy, and interest, and instinctively Nicole knew she was being studied, sized-up, and that this meeting was important on several levels.



"Nicole." Catherine held out her hand. "It's nice to finally meet you."



"Thank you, Catherine. It's nice to meet you as well."



Catherine's grip was firm, but gentle, and she motioned for them to sit.



"I won't keep you long." Catherine resumed her spot behind the desk and nodded towards Michael. "I understand you have new information regarding David's death and his estate."



He nodded. "I do. Thank you."



Michael turned to Nicole. "The good news is that David's death has evaporated from the news. The major news organizations have moved on, and after a request from the White House, no journalists are pursuing you or your family for comment."



Nicole breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good. My daughter-."



"Your daughters are fine, and there is no indication they were even aware of what happened. Your ex-husband has agreed not to speak to them about David's death. He'd prefer you communicate with them regarding David, and he asked that you do it in person."



"Of course." Irritation flooded through her, but she suppressed it. "And the bad news?"



Michael took a breath. "The accusations against David are sound, and they'll soon be turned into lawsuits against his estate."



"I see."



It was a lame response, but she sensed Michael wasn't finished, and she was proved right a few second later when he continued.



"It appears David pursued activities outside The Organization, and these activities were...extreme in some cases." He paused meaningfully. "And more than one person was physically harmed."



"I didn't know-."



"None of us did," Catherine replied. "If The Organization had known, we would've put a stop to it, and I suspect that's why David pursued them independently. The arrogant son of a bitch always thought the rules didn't apply to him."



Nicole gave her a sharp look, and Catherine cocked an eyebrow and met her gaze. It seemed she was daring her to disagree. Nicole was tempted to defend her husband, but the news she'd just been handed made that impossible. The David she'd married didn't seem capable of the actions he'd been accused of, but at the same time...



She shook her head and faced Michael. "So. My deceased husband was a bastard. What's next?"



"The executor of David's estate will likely settle the lawsuits as quickly as possible."



"He will," Catherine confirmed.



"And," Michael continued. "The lawsuits will likely consume all of his assets."



"They will," Catherine confirmed again.



"So, I'm now destitute," she said. "If lawsuits will take David's estate, then I'll have nothing left. I didn't ask for anything in my divorce."



Michael's didn't reply, but his expression made it clear. David's private activities, and his subsequent death, combined to leave her with nothing. No money. No home. Nothing. Whatever grief she'd been feeling seemed to roll out of her emotions like water running off a freshly waxed car. What remained was a dollop of embarrassment, humiliation, and huge amounts of anger.



<em>The low-down, abusing, scumbag!</em>



"Michael." Catherine's voice had the same ring of command. "Will you excuse us? I'll contact you when we're finished."



"Absolutely."



He rose, squeezed her shoulder, and left without another word. Catherine waited until the doors closed, before she rose again, and sat next to Nicole. Her eyes were sympathetic.



"You okay?"



"I married a bastard." She snorted. "Who killed himself, thank goodness. But the selfish prick left me penniless."



"Not your fault," she said, with a short shake of her head. "We just met, Nicole, but I suspect you'd have castrated him yourself if you'd known about his behavior."



"I should've-."



"Should've what? Sensed it? David was a member of The Organization for decades, and none of us were aware of his extracurricular activities. He was an excellent liar, and it served him well."



"He was also a coward," she spat. "Committing suicide, rather than face up to what he'd done."



"True. But what's done is done, and you have to face your future."



"I can get a job, I suppose. Cynthia will let me stay with her, at least for a while."



Catherine leaned forward, a small smile on her lips. "I have a better idea."



"What's that?"



"Join us, on a full-time basis. The Organization will provide a generous salary, and we'll cover all your travel expenses. Your induction ceremony created quite a stir, and there is considerable interest for your presence throughout The Organization."



"David never got around to explaining much about The Organization. He insisted he'd handle the details."



"Bastard," she whispered, and shook her head. "What do you know about a Queen of Spades duties?"



She shrugged. "Not much. David made it seem like it was a party lifestyle. Basically, jet-setting around the world."



"That's incorrect, or at least, entirely incomplete." She took a breath. "The Organization is a worldwide network of people, most are highly-placed and wealthy, and we use our connections for a variety of purposes. Parties, events, and charity functions are a part of what we do, but only a part, and we could use someone like you."



"Like me?"



"Intelligent. Educated. Articulate." She smiled. "Gorgeous, of course, but there is fire and steel within you, and we need those qualities."



"Wow." She sat back and took a breath. "I thought it was mostly sexual."



Catherine chuckled. "That's the icing, but it's not the cake, honey."



"Can I think about it?"



"Of course." Catherine nodded, and checked her watch. "I'm here for a few more days. I needed my own vacation, you see, and I'd like to have your answer before I leave. It will be easier to arrange everything while you're present."



"You can do all of this? By yourself?"



Catherine laughed. "What? Do you think I have to gain approval from a man?"



"I don't-. I mean, I'm wasn't sure-." Nicole shrugged. "I apologize, I didn't mean to offend."



"No offense taken."



Catherine stood, stepped around the desk, and resumed her seat. She opened a laptop, checked her smart phone, and made a note on a writing pad. Nicole wasn't sure what just happened. Several quiet, tense minutes passed, before Nicole finally had enough. Maybe she was new, but she wasn't stupid, and she wasn't a timid little girl who could be dismissed at a whim.



"Catherine." Her voice was low, hard, and the other woman glanced at her. "Who are you?"



"Finally," she said. "You asked the right question."



"Are you going to answer it?"



"I will, but I'd like you to consider the question for a moment, and then give me your best guess."



Nicole narrowed her eyes and considered her response. The villa. Michael's demeanor. Shyla's vague responses. The villa security.



"You're the CEO. The head of the organization." She took a breath. "You run it."



Catherine inclined her head. "Just so."



"Wow."



"Nicole." A wide, pleased smile spread over Catherine's lips. "Women founded The Organization. Women have always run it. Men occupy positions of responsibility, but no man has significant decision-making authority. That rests only with Queens."



"That's...cool," she replied, and her smile matched Catherine's. "Awesome, actually."



"Yes. It is. I suspect your dead, bastard of a husband, planned to use you, control you, to gain more influence within The Organization." Her smile hardened. "Better men than him have tried."



"Tried...and failed?"



"Tried and failed," she confirmed with a nod. A second later she shrugged. "Some tried and died."



Nicole's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Died?"



Catherine held her gaze. "The Organization belongs to women. Never, ever forget that. Imagine for a moment if The Organization were revealed to the general public? What would the media do? What would happen to the members whose identities were revealed?"



"Nothing good."



"That's an extreme understatement, Nicole." Catherine sat forward and made a general sweeping motion. "In some circumstances, it could threaten lives, and certainly, it would threaten the livelihood of most of our members. The security out there is armed for a reason. We have contacts in most media organizations...for a reason. The Organization can only exist if our privacy is maintained, and aside from the happiness of our members, it's our highest priority. And women have always been better keepers of secrets than men."



"I understand.



"Good."



<a></a>Catherine smiled, and nodded. "I suspect you and will get along very well, Nicole. Or, may I call you, Nikki."



"Yes, of course."



"Call me Cathy. Catherine is so formal."



"Cathy. Thank you." Nicole cocked her head. "I do have some general questions, though, about The Organization."



"Oh?"



"Where did it start? How did it start?"



Catherine closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair. "The Organization existed in small, discreet groups throughout Europe for centuries, but it wasn't until Columbus wandered off course, and discovered a new continent, that The Organization finally took shape. It was founded here, in the Caribbean, on this island."



"Wow."



"The circumstances were horrible, but what grew from them is the foundation of everything you see around you." A sly smile appeared on her lips. "European women were introduced to large numbers of black men on this island, and other islands in the Caribbean. It was here, during the time of pirates and general lawlessness, that fortunes were made, and women saw that they could create something just for themselves. The Triangle Trade as it relates to the Americas is well-documented, but there was another secret Triangle Trade that helped create our organization."



"How? I mean, weren't most women wives, or..." She trailed off.



"As you'll probably recall, the original Triangle Trade in the Americas consisted of raw materials from the islands, manufactured goods from Europe, and-."



"Slaves," she said.



"Correct." If Cathy minded be interrupted, she didn't show it, and she continued. "And The Organization created their own Triangle Trade. White women from Europe, money from cuckold husband estates and businesses, and freed slaves."



"Freed Slaves?"



"Yes. The Organization moved as many slaves as possible onto plantations, where they were secretly freed. Most of the slaves continued to work on the plantations and were paid a wage. To say it was a difficult time, even for freed slaves, is another extreme understatement, but The Organization did their best to free as many as possible, and ensure they lived as free a life as possible...under the circumstances. The Organization also funded many of the early abolitionist movements in the U.S. and worked in Europe to outlaw slavery outright. It was a long, difficult struggle, but we like to think The Organization made a positive impact."



"But the money involved, it must've been considerable."



She nodded. "It was, and that brings us to The Cuckold Husband. Their role is both vital, and under-appreciated within our organization, and few among us truly understand how instrumental they were to the creation of The Organization."



"They paid for it," Nicole surmised.



"Paid for it. Protected it." Catherine sat forward. "They provided the resources and created the necessary trusts and financial vehicles. Their work allowed the fledgling organization to amass properties, income, and most important, the right people and connections. The networks they created, both in business and in government, continue to this day. Of course, they did all of these things under the direction of their wives."



"Wow."



"The Female-Led Relationship. It's a wonderful thing." Catherine winked. "At any rate, as the U.S grew, so did our wealth and organization. We transplanted several chapters throughout Europe and northern Africa, and they've been wildly successful." She let out a breath. "Today, we're a world-wide organization, and we have the resources to rival many large corporations. Although, our motive is pleasure, rather than profit."



"I see."



"And that's why we need women like you. We have all the challenges of a corporation, and the personal challenges that come with a private, quasi-sexual lifestyle. Membership problems like David, security concerns, business and financial investments, and logistics." She stopped and met her eyes. "I understand you have a background in Real Estate."



She nodded. "Yes. Commercial real estate mostly, but I've worked with residential properties, too."



"Perfect. We could use your skills in that area, and I need someone in our Acquisitions segment." She smiled. "There are a lot of travel opportunities."



"Like where?"



"Europe, Asia, South America." She opened her laptop again. "Those are the areas where we're trying to grow our real estate presence. High End properties only, of course. There may be some travel to Scandinavia, and the UAE, but that's down the road, and we have some more work to do in the Middle East."



"Sounds like it's a lot more than parties."



"We've only scratched the surface, Nikki. And I'd like to tell you more, but before I do that, I need to ask you a question." Catherine smiled at her. "Do you really need a few more days to think it over?"



Nicole considered their conversations, and the question Catherine had posed to her. What did she have right now, right this minute? The answer was simple...nothing. No job. No Husband. No money. She could crawl back to Nick and ask for help. She could live off Cynthia like a leach. She could get her old job back, but her salary had been low, even for the local area.



Or, she could stand on her own two feet. Sure, life had knocked her down, but she wasn't out of the fight. Not by a long shot. And Catherine's offer was amazing. It offered professional challenges, and personal satisfaction by the boat-load. As she considered the situation further, she couldn't think of a single reason <em>not</em> to accept Catherine's offer. She straightened in her chair.



"Let's talk salary."



Catherine laughed. "Spoken like a true Queen."



Nicole let that pass. "I was thinking-."



"Two hundred and fifty thousand," she interrupted. "That'll be your starting salary. Bonuses will be available, depending upon the profitability of your Real Estate operation. You'll have a food and clothing allowance of fifty thousand dollars a quarter. Anything above that, is your responsibility. Any gifts from Organization members, or otherwise, are yours alone, provided you disclose them to me. I need to make sure they do not obligate you in ways that conflict with The Organization."



"I don't-."



"You're a Queen of Spades, Nikki, not a fucking mistress. Men will try to buy your loyalty, your silence, and they'll try to use your influence within The Organization." She paused. "Don't fucking let them. Any gifts a Queen receives are always disclosed. No exceptions."



"Understood."



"Good." She continued as though she'd never stopped. "Travel will be arranged through The Organization, and we'll bear the cost. If possible, you'll have access to our corporate jets. If not, first class accommodations will be secured for you."



"Anything else?"



Cathy smiled. "Of course. But for now, those are the high points."



"I accept."



"Excellent." She stood, walked around the desk, and drew Nicole into a hug. "We're happy to have you, Nikki."



"Thank you, Cathy."



They parted, and Cathy motioned at the door. "We'll meet tomorrow, with Shyla, to go over the paperwork. It's short, but important, and it needs to be handled privately."



"I understand."



"Good." She paused and gave her a careful look. "Now, you're sure you don't want to spend time with Michael? I don't want to poach him from you."



"Of course," she said. "He's handsome, but I'm not ready."



"I understand." She walked her to the door. "Then I'm going to wear him out."



Nicole laughed. "Have fun."



"Thanks. I intend too."



Catherine opened the door, kissed her cheek, and Nicole stepped through. Michael was sitting in a chair nearby, and Catherine motioned him into the room.



"C'mon, handsome. Let's see if we can set some records tonight."



<a></a>Nicole wandered back the way she came and found the dining room empty. She sighed quietly and strolled through the beautiful villa in a winding route that ended at her suite. She paused before opening the door, and soft moans, and sighs filtered through the door. Shyla had clearly been serious when she promised Cynthia an intimate tour of the villa. A strong surge of temptation flowed through her, and she debated joining the two women for a moment but decided against it. Whatever was happening between Cynthia and Shyla deserved privacy.



A smile slid over her lips, and she stepped into the adjoining suite. Whether it was planned or not, she didn't know, but someone had moved her bag into this suite. She suspected it was Cynthia, but it didn't matter. She changed into a skimpy two-piece bathing suit, pulled a sheer dress over the top, and walked towards the beach. A sharp moan, she recognized as Cynthia's, pierced the calm, quiet air, and Nicole giggled.



<em>Cynthia's having fun.</em>



An attendant met her, just before she left the villa for the beach, and she asked him for a glass of wine. He nodded, disappeared, and she walked across the manicured lawn until she reached the white sandy beach. It was pristine. The sand disappeared into clear, azure water. She dropped her dress onto the sand, and after a moment's reflection, her bathing suit joined it.

<hr pg="9" />Naked. Free.



She walked into the water, until the waves passed her waist, and she dived forward. Strong strokes pulled her through the water for several minutes, until she stopped, and faced the shoreline. The villa looked just as good from the water, and she realized that the shoreline was empty of people and buildings for as far as she could see. It was obvious no one could approach the villa from the shore without being seen well in advance.



A wave approached, and she ducked under it, and continued swimming. She adjusted her course, and swam parallel to the shoreline for a while, before she started back. She loved swimming, but her muscles needed time to adjust. When her feet touched the sand again, her breathing was labored, and her muscles burned with the effort. The attendant was waiting for her, and he motioned to a lounge chair and umbrella. He kept his behavior professional, but his eyes communicated how much he enjoyed her naked presence.



"I took the liberty of bringing a chair for you."



"Thank you."



He nodded. "And Champagne. I know you ordered wine, but if I may, I'd like to recommend this bottle of champagne. It's excellent."



She smiled. "I guess Champagne will do."



Her words were sarcastic, but the attendant obviously didn't understand the humor, because his expression registered sincere relief. A towel magically appeared at the end of his hand, and she took it. Normally, she'd spend some time getting to know him, at least exchange pleasantries, but a sudden desire for privacy took over. It probably had something to do with the way he looked at her. It wasn't lust exactly, although that was present in his eyes. No, his expression held something like...hope, like a puppy dog hoping for a treat. And she wasn't in the mood.



"May I have some privacy?"



He bowed. "Of course."



"Thank you."



A moment later, she was alone, and she finished drying off. She poured a generous glass of champagne and reclined on the lounge chair. The sun was had started to set, and the ocean and sky took on a kaleidoscope of beautiful colors.



"A lady could get used to this," she murmured to herself.



For the first time since David's death, a sense of peace settled over her. Whether it was the Villa, Michaels information about David, or her conversation with Catherine...she didn't know. But one thing was clear. Her life felt like her own again, and she treasured that feeling. She'd accepted Cathy's offer, and the salary was extremely generous. She wouldn't need to rely on anyone else, and that independence had a value beyond money. The other benefits were hard to imagine, because she hadn't done much traveling, beyond vacations, but she guessed she'd grow accustomed to them soon enough.



She stared at the bright globe, threatening to sink below the horizon, and lifted her glass. She toasted the sunset with a wide smile.



"To New Beginnings."

