Pedigree Crush With a Twist of Passion: Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Six.
Things had moved quickly. Faster and better than she could ever have hoped for. While Phil was serving his month’s notice she had set up the business ready for him to walk into. She spent her weekends barbequing with Philip and Danielle. The second time that they invited her to the house Philip told her that his mother, two brothers and their families would be coming. Consuela said that she was looking forward to it, but when the day came, she had unfortunate and unavoidable business that took her away from the country for the weekend. She knew that she would be discussed at the gathering and hoped that not too much was made of her nationality. But she felt safe because SP had never spoken to his vision. She hoped that, in moments of lessened clarity, he still thought that she was the Virgin Mary, or that she had been a figment of his imagination and that he’d been spiked with the heroin by somebody unknown. James had met a Spanish gangster’s moll, a far cry from the high flying business woman who Phil would be working for.
Far from a simpering mother, she found Danielle to be likeable. The women became friends and Consuela was truly sorry that she was going to have to hurt the woman. She liked her, but in taking down her ex-husband sacrifices had to be made. His boys were sweet. Thomas could be a sulker, and petulant like his father, but he was mostly a good kid. Oliver was just a little sweetheart and loved his Auntie Con-con. On the third weekend, when it was just the five of them, Connie wished that she could have brought Simon. He would have got a buzz out of it and would have loved playing with the two boys. Phil was the only one of the Woods brothers who knew about Simon. He’d seen him going from the bus to his school once. Connie had read about it in his diaries. Phil had written that Simon was ugly and stupid, ‘Deeply entrenched in his disgusting mongolism,’ he’d said. Connie wanted to kick him in the balls just for that one statement.
The office set up, went well. She rented property in a designer complex with air conditioning and plate glass windows. She had eleven subsidiary branches of Victoria’s Kitchen in England. She was shutting three of them, they weren’t doing well and she brought over enough of their business to make the Barrow office appear valid. It was Connie’s idea to give Danielle a job. She took her on as receptionist from ten until three Monday to Friday, with total flexibility for illness and school holidays. She was generous and gave her a twelve grand a year salary with no deductions for time taken off for necessary child care.
As Philip was officially her head of operations now, they interviewed for the rest of their staff together. Phil surprised her. She had wanted to take on a plain woman of dim intelligence to be his PA. He fought her bitterly and said that he wouldn’t be able to work with a woman like that. Connie gave her reasons for wanting to hire her. She said that she was likely to be honest and that she seemed reliable. Her references were adequate. Phil said that she had no drive. He fought her to hire a man in his late twenties called Max Oaks. Phil said that he had drive, ambition and balls. He felt that he could work with him and said that even his name sounded steadfast and reliable. He stood up to her, wouldn’t back down and backed his horse well. She was impressed. Max was exactly the man that she would have taken on had she been hiring for real. To complete their staff they hired a general assistant who would be responsible for all the mundane admin and odd jobs. She was an ordinary girl, more than capable of the job, called Debra Thomas. Their team was established.
The surprises didn’t stop there. In his first week Phil insisted on going in person to meet with all the staff at the three factories that he would be brining up from their knees. Connie hadn’t anticipated this. It was too close for comfort and too close to home, but Phil was determined to do a good job. He came back from his week away brimful of ideas. Most of them were good ones and Connie had a new found grudging respect for the way that the man did business. If things had been different, if he had seen her potential when they were together, and if she had seen his, they could have been formidable in the business world. His aptitude and enthusiasm only made the thought of bringing him down sweeter.
In the ten years since she’d seen him, he’d aged but time hadn’t been too hard on him. He’d spread a little across the middle and he had some greying at the temples, but he still had a head of predominantly black hair. Whereas she had grown four whole inches, he was still short. She had had her legs broken in Russia and rods inserted and grafted into the bone to gradually, over six painful months; lengthen her legs so increasing her overall height. Philip’s stature remained the same. He still wore white sports socks that had, and still did, infuriate her. She remembered having sex with him and staring at the socks, still on his feet as he hammered into her. She remembered the white socks with sandals when they had been abroad. She remembered his small cock and the way he’d sweat all over her, dripping perspiration from his forehead into her eyes, stinging them and making her ball her fists and prop them under her backside to stop her from punching him while he rode her. She remembered all this while she watched him at his desk in his crisp white shirt.
While his wife was mere yards away at the reception desk in the foyer, she’d flirt with him. There were days when his hard on would almost be lifting his desk. She knew him, she knew how to lean over him, how to display her body when she was reaching for something. She knew how to accidentally brush against him in passing and how to innocently insert images, ideas and fantasies into his brain. And she knew that he got off on thinking about having sex with Consuela while is wife was working in sweet oblivion. She tortured his imagination, mercilessly.
The office was only ever going to be in operation for one month. It was a shame, given time Phil and Max could have turned all three of the failing businesses around. They worked well together and Phil was hard to the point of brutal in implementing changes and making things work.

They had been working together for three weeks and they had known each other coming up eight weeks when Connie told Phil that she needed him to accompany her on a trip to Spain. Danielle was the needy type, she didn’t like him being away from home, she sulked for awhile until Connie promised that she would take very good care of him and that, if they got on with the job and made good time, he might only be away for a couple of days. Connie knew it would be a week.
Danni drove them to the airport and cried when she waved Phil away. Despite leaving his wife in tears Phil was in good humour. She knew that he liked travelling; they’d done enough of it together. They had fond memories of Barcelona. He was more than happy to have a working holiday away from his family. On the plane he was in excellent mood and when the drinks trolley came around they ordered two whiskey and cokes each, all on company expenses. They travelled First Class and had plenty of leg room to stretch out. After the excellent in-flight meal, Connie feigned sleepiness and dosed as the plane prepared for descent. As she pretended to sleep she let her head fall onto Phil’s shoulder and was mildly surprised when he allowed it to rest there. Through slitted lids, she saw him peer down her top and when she nuzzled contentedly into his body she saw the definition of his erection through his suit pants.
When they came into land, Phil woke her gently. She pretended embarrassment for resting on him and he gallantly swept her apology away. Max had booked them into single rooms in the Hotel Omm. Connie manipulated him into believing that it was his idea that they stay instead at her villa. It would be less awkward if they needed to work late into the night, or very early in the day. It was more convenient geographically to the hub of her enterprise. They could eat when they wanted to and not be disturbed by other diners. All ideas that she had insinuated into his head but that he thought he had come up with. He rang Danni as soon as they dropped their cases in their rooms to let her know about the new arrangements. Connie had expected fireworks, but Danni trusted her husband and she accepted the changes without complaint. Her beef was that he was away from home, who he was away with was never an issue.
They freshened up by taking turns to use the shower room. Connie went first because she couldn’t bare the thought of stepping into the shower immediately after Phil had been in there. He would almost certainly masturbate under the hot water and the thought of it turned her stomach. They were working from home that afternoon. Connie had arranged meetings at some of her plants for the following day and throughout the week. The blistering temperatures suited her purpose well. She wore a gold bikini with a sheer kaftan over it to work in. The kaftan was see through and covered nothing, but it did add titillation to the effect. She had long since lost the need for sun cream, she had a Mediterranean tone and her skin had adjusted to the Spanish sun, but she wanted to evoke memories. She used the same coconut sun cream that she had when they were together. She knew that the smell of it turned him on. In Ibiza, on their fourth wedding anniversary, he had bought her a perfume that was branded especially for the island. It was cheap; nothing like what she wore now, but it was a scent that he associated heavily with sex. She’d had some delivered to use that week. She pulled her mane of thick black hair into a single plait that left her shoulders bare. She intended to spend the afternoon driving him insane.
Her housekeeper and cook, Anita Castillo, had been given her hours for the following week. When Connie was in England, Anita came in regularly to water the pants and clean the villa and when Connie was home, they worked her hours accordingly. Anita produced a fantastic lunch of grilled salmon with a light salad and baked potatoes. Desert was fresh fruit, much of it from Connie’s own garden. They washed their meal down with a bottle of La Rioja Alta.
She worked him hard in the brutal sun from one until four. She had had one glass of wine, he had drunk three. The effects of the alcohol told on him and she could see him striving to maintain a professional demeanour. He wore shorts and a t-shirt and he was quickly covered in a sheen of perspiration, his shirt stained with wet dark patches. He repulsed her. The office was fully air conditioned but the windows were open and the scent of mimosa and oleander came in with the sun’s heat. She was brusque and businesslike as she swished around the office and his eyes followed her like a hungry predator.
At four she suggested that they take a break. She called for Anita to bring them iced tea on the terrace and they went out into the sun. He complimented her on the garden as they sat in comfy furniture beside an oak table. She never tired of looking at her garden; every week there was something new to see throughout the year. The bougainvillea covered the back of the villa and trailing Wisteria hung in grape like bunches of blooms over a trellised arbour that led to the pool. Rich scents hung in the air and the colours were magnificent. She was truly blessed. She only needed two more things to make her life perfect. She needed to avenge the death of her daughter, and she needed to have Simon out here with her for at least part of the year. When they talked about her garden he mentioned that his first wife had been a keen gardener.
They sipped their tea and relaxed in the afternoon haze when, without a word, Connie rose and took off her kaftan. She let if fall to the chair in a shimmer of gauze and stood before him in just a skimpy bikini.
‘Come on then,’ she said in invitation before leading the way to the pool. She stood on the edge and gracefully dove in. She had surfaced from under water by the time he had made the edge of the pool and had got rid of his pathetic sandals and wet shirt. He dove in quickly and without elegance, but not before she’d see the bulge in his shorts and not before he’d seen her rise with her nipples erect and goose pimples on her breasts from the cool contrast of the pool against the afternoon heat.
She swam underwater and came up to playfully duck him. They swam and frolicked in the water, both of them laughing like children. She remembered past times of playing in pools with Vicki and she wanted to hold his head underneath the water and watch the bastard die.
She ensured that there was plenty of skin on skin contact. At one point she came up in front of him and he grabbed her roughly. His face was inches from hers, water dripping form his fringe. He was going to kiss her. His head moved in towards her. She opened her mouth a touch and then in the second before their lips met, she splashed him with water and swam away. It was too soon. They would kiss, he would be eaten with guilt and remorse, and that would be it. When Connie took Philip Woods to bed again she wanted him good and ripe to explode so that there could be no going back.
She pretended that she hadn’t been aware of his intentions. She played with him in the pool as though nothing had happened. The next time she floated up behind him. She wrapped her legs around his body before pushing him under water and swimming a length of the pool with him without either of them coming up for air. At the deep end they rose against the edge. To get to the ladder she had to pass in front of him, she could have swum clear but she clung to the edge taking her hand across his body to grab again on the other side of him. Her knee came up with the buoyancy in the water and brushed gently against the front of his shorts. His cock was like iron and stuck straight out in front of him. Her fingers travelled across his chest, a red talon grazing his nipple as she transferred from one side of him to the other in the deep water. The touch had been nothing more than a brush, but when her leg made contact with his cock, he gasped, and when the pressure was lifted, he groaned, unable to stop himself. She was satisfied with this opening gambit and swam to the ladder. As she pulled herself out of the pool, the water cascaded off her body in pearl droplets against the barrier of the sun cream. The weight of the water captured in her bikini bottoms pulled them down slightly showing him that she had no tan lines at all. He stayed in the pool. When he joined her back in the office, he was calm and in control of himself. She knew that he’d ejaculated. She’d been with him almost ten years; she knew that when he was horny nothing would calm him until he’d had sexual release. She only hoped that he’d gone to his room to do it and hadn’t contaminated her water. He was freshly showered and dressed in a fresh shirt and shorts. They worked steadily until dinner time.
Dinner was served at eight. They ate fresh fish with vegetables followed by a dessert of mangos in a light torte. Their wine selection included a vintage Marques de Caseres, followed by sangria on the terrace and ending the night with vodka and brandy. They stayed up late and talked about work, about family and life. He’d changed a lot. He was a better man, but she still hated the man that he’d been and Vicki hadn’t been offered any second chances, why should he be? She was going to destroy him. They were both drunk. When he kissed her goodnight she allowed him to kiss her on the lips, not on each cheek as would be normal. She let his lips press against hers for a fraction of a second longer than was polite, before she was the one to pull away. He dropped his hands quickly to cover the inevitable erection.
The next morning he was all business. She knew from the efficient way that he spoke to her, that the kiss was at the forefront of his mind. He felt guilty. Since kissing her on the mouth, he would have blown sweet kisses down the phone to his wife.
They had a busy day. She listened to what Phil had to say. The meetings were pure staging, the trip a fabrication; she didn’t need him out there. But as with the business in England, a lot of what he had to say made sense. She saw ways of cutting costs and increasing productivity without alienating her workforce, who she greatly valued and treated well in return for loyal employment. She intended to use some of Phil’s suggestions going forward.
That night, after returning to the villa to shower and change, they went out. Connie took him to an excellent Cantonese restaurant and then they went bar-hopping before falling into a club and dancing until the early hours. Connie kept fit with Zumba DVD’s. She wasn’t fanatic about them, but once or twice a week, she found it a great release of work tension to dance to them. She was lithe and danced well. She was sexy without being slutty, outstanding without being exhibitionist and Philip strutted like a king dancing next to her. Every man’s eyes in the room were on the woman that he was out with. Connie doubted that he thought about his wife once.
When the music slowed he took her in his arms and they swayed into a rhythmic waltz. After a few bars she dropped his hand and let her arms slide around his neck. She pressed her body against the length of his. Hello, how did I know you’d be there? She swayed her hips left to right, with each sway her pelvis brushed against his cock. Her head was against his shoulder and she sang softly in Spanish as they danced. She was driving him wild and his breath, hot against her ear, was raspy and uneven. He was drunk. His inhibitions were compromised with alcohol and his feeling of well being. She hadn’t pushed him away and he was being led by his cock. He didn’t try to hide his hard on. He knew that she’d felt it and he knew, at this point, that he was being played with; he was just powerless to resist.
As they danced he became bolder. He let his hands drop from her waist to her bottom. When she didn’t resist he increased the pressure under his hands and pulled her in to him while thrusting his pelvis into her body. They both wore thin clothing, she a sun dress with no bra and only a tiny thong, him a pair of linen trousers and a dress shirt. She was aware of every vein and contour of his cock as it thrust against her. She maintained the rhythm of her dance while he dry humped her on the dance floor. His breath was in full sexual flow now, he moaned twice when his sensitive glans rubbed against her pubic bone. He even dropped a couple of disgustingly wet kisses onto her neck. The dirty bastard was going to come in his shorts if she didn’t pull away. Luckily, for her the song came to an end before he did. ‘I think we’d better go and get a drink to cool down,’ she muttered into his ear.
‘Oh just one more dance,’ he whined.
Just one more molestation was closer to the mark. ‘I think we’ve had too much alcohol,’ she laughed. ‘We need a soft drink to allow the—er mood to soften, don’t you think?’
He looked up at her and blushed. She was cool and perfectly in control of herself. He was erect, hot, sweating and on the point of losing his load in his pants. He managed to gain some control as they walked to the bar. His erection dwindled and he wiped his sweaty face with a hanky. But his mind and his imagination were still turgid, she knew that. Danni was the last thing on his mind and on that second night she could have had him if she’d wanted to. She didn’t, not yet.
He tried to paw her at the bar, in the taxi on the way home and in the living room when they arrived back at the villa. She laughed him off, continuing to flirt with him while keeping the mood light, and him at arms length.
The following morning he arrived at breakfast shamefaced and sheepish. She was the first to speak. She touched his arm lightly as he sat at the table. Anita was in the kitchen but she kept her voice low. ‘I want to apologise to you for my appalling behaviour last night. My only excuse is that I was drunk. It’s been a long time since I had a strong, virile man in my arms and I’m afraid I got caught up in the moment. If you want to cut the trip short I can book you a flight home today, but I can assure you, it won’t happen again.’
He let her take sole responsibility of the blame, the utter bastard. ‘Oh, think nothing of it. Of course I don’t want to leave before the work is finished. We came out here to do a job and that’s what I want to do. We’ll just make sure that you have one less vodka tonight.’
She knew that he’d be plying her with as much alcohol as he could get down her throat. Like a hypnotists she had inserted triggers into his brain. He had all but forgotten that he had a wife apart from the pathetically insipid nightly phone calls home. His master was lust and he was firmly in his master’s grip. All she had to do was wiggle her hips and his dick would begin to drip like a tap. She was ready to take him.
She managed to fend off his advances until their last night in Spain. She couldn’t bear the thought of more than one intimate night with him. By the time that dinner was finished and Anita had left for the night, she had him panting like a dog. She didn’t need to brush against him any longer. He did enough of that for both of them. She was pouring after dinner drinks when he came up behind her. She wore a backless evening dress and she felt his fingers on the bare flesh across her shoulders. He mistook her shudder for one of arousal. She leaned back into his hand giving him the encouragement that he sought. Bingo! His lips dropped to the nape of her neck. When they lifted he left a saliva imprint of his mouth on her skin. As he’d kissed her she’d pushed her bum into his groin. His hand came around to the front and grabbed her between the legs. He was raising her skirt with his other hand. He hadn’t learned any finesse in the years that they’d been apart, where as she had become an excellent lover with no shortage of partners to hone her abilities. He was going to take her right there over the drinks trolley.
She swung around and kissed him full on the mouth. His instantly filled with saliva and it dripped from his mouth into hers. She fought the urge to gag. Vomiting into his mouth would have been repayment in kind, and would undoubtedly give her immense satisfaction, but was probably not the way forward when she had sex in mind.
She led him into the bedroom where the cameras and recording equipment were already set up and filming.