Read Online The Washington Club by Peter Corris - Free Book Online Page A

Post probably couldn’t help with. I had more serious things to worry about, like where was this evening headed and how would my feelings for this woman affect the job I was supposed to be doing for her?
    We didn’t talk much on the drive back to Kirribilli. Claudia asked if I minded her smoking in the car. She could have lit three at once as far as I was concerned and I almost told her so. She wound down the window and blewthe smoke out discreetly. After stubbing the cigarette she opened the CD player and took out the disc.
    â€˜Edith Piaf,’ she said. ‘Is this yours?’
    â€˜It was in there when I picked up the car.’
    She found the case in the glove box and laughed. ‘I remember this. It was a Nescafe give-away. You had to answer some dopey question. The first prize was a trip to Paris but they gave these away by the hundreds.’
    â€˜Did you enter?’
    â€˜No. I mentioned it to Julius. He said we could go to Paris anytime we wanted to. The next day he went out and bought a couple of Piaf CDs.’
    She put the disc in the player and pressed the right buttons. The strong, vibrant voice filled the car as we turned into her street. I parked outside and she touched my arm.
    â€˜Don’t turn off. I want to listen.’
    Non, rien, rien
    Non, Je ne regrette rien
    â€˜You’ve got it all inside,’ I said.
    â€˜Shush, this is better.’
    Her head moved down onto my shoulder and we sat there on the looks-like-leather seats, listening to the music that evoked Paris in the rain and the incredible voice with all its hopeful spirit demolished by sadness and dashed hopes. By the end of the record her hand was lying between my legs, gripping my erection, and I’d cupped her right breast and was breathing in her perfume from her hair. Itwas probably French but could have been Serbo-Croatian for all I cared. There was a faint touch of mentholated tobacco in the mixture and there was nothing wrong with that either.
    Somehow we got out of the car when the music stopped and somehow I remembered to set its state-of-the-art alarm system and steering locking device. We were joined at the knee, leg, hip and shoulder as we went through the security gate. In her high heels, the height difference between us was minimal and the arm I had wrapped around her was enclosing warm, firm flesh under smooth, silky fabrics. Rampant erections are rare events for men in their late forties, but I was having considerable difficulty in walking.
    By unspoken mutual consent, we kissed before she used her card to get through the door to the building. She tasted of wine, spices, tobacco and that other flavour that you’ve either been lucky enough to encounter or you haven’t. I ran my tongue over her big, thrusting teeth and then I felt her catch my lower lip in them and bite gently.
    â€˜Claudia,’ I said with the whisper of breath I had at my command.
    â€˜Don’t talk. Just come inside and fuck me.’
    I held her hand as we went up the stairs and suddenly there was a kind of innocence along with the erotic charge, which only made it all the stronger. We went straight into the bedroom—big and minimally furnished with a queen-sized bed. A dim bedside light. Wekissed until it hurt and then started to take our clothes off. She kicked off her shoes and pulled down her pantihose. She wore a skimpy white lace bra and lace panties to match. When I had my shirt, trousers and socks off she advanced and slipped her hand inside my underpants. I groaned and had trouble standing.
    â€˜I haven’t got any condoms or anything,’ I muttered.
    â€˜It’s all right, I have. I like your cock. Do you want to fuck me?’
    â€˜Jesus, yes.’
    She worked the underpants down and freed my hard cock. ‘How?’
    â€˜Any way.’
    She unfastened her bra. She had a light tan but her full, brown-nippled breasts were white. I slid my hand down her rounded belly past her