Page 24 of In Love With a Master (Interview With a Master 2)

Leticia nodded with sudden fervor like I was preaching to one who had been converted. She giggled with wanton huskiness. “Well you have convinced me,” she smiled. “I think I’m an instant addict.”

I got up from the bed. I was still fully dressed. I went into the bathroom and splashed hot water over my face, then combed my fingers through my hair. When I came back into the bedroom Leticia was still lying on the big bed, still naked. She looked like she was waiting for me. “Jonah… Can I do something for you?” she asked shyly.

I smiled and shook my head. I sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in mine then reached out with my other hand to stroke her cheek. “Leticia, I didn’t pleasure you expecting anything in return. I pleasured you so that you would learn what it was like to experience an orgasm at the touch of a man’s mouth. This wasn’t a night for BDSM, or for you to submit to me. All of that will come in the weeks to follow. This was another important step in your education, because without knowing what is possible you can’t ever experience true sexual pleasure.”

Leticia understood, but still frowned and shook her head. “I just don’t get you,” she said on impulse. “Every man I have ever known has wanted sex. But you’re different. You have a naked girl on your bed, offering and willing to do anything you want her to, and you say no.” Her voice was disbelieving. “I don’t think I will ever understand you.”

“Leticia, women all around the world have sex with their husbands – not for their own satisfaction – but simply because it pleases their partner. They do this expecting nothing in return… and often getting it,” I made the point. “But they do it anyhow, because it’s part of a relationship – but sadly, it’s a part that men rarely reciprocate. If I’m not like other men, then the fault is with the other men, not with me.”

Leticia sat up in the center of the bed. She hugged her knees tight to her chest with both her arms and beneath the blonde tangle of her hair, her face still showed the soft lingering glow of her climax. She looked very beautiful and very young – the child-like innocence of her expression almost impossible for me to reconcile with the womanly flare of her hips and breasts. I gazed at her, and my fingers crept up along the length of her forearm so that the unblemished skin there suddenly broke out in a rash of bumps.

“Being a skilled lover doesn’t make me a perfect man,” I said in a cautious warning as I caressed her arm. “Not perfect for you, nor for any other woman who wants true love. There is much more to a relationship than sex, Leticia. I still don’t know if I can feel for you in the way you want me to. I still can’t promise you that. You understand, don’t you?”

Leticia nodded, but there was a sudden haunted shadow behind her eyes. The pouting smile at the corner of her lips faltered and she tried bravely to keep it in place.

“I know, Jonah,” she said softly. “I know there are no guarantees…”

I nodded, and got up from the bed. Leticia’s torn blouse was lying tattered on the floor. I picked it up and held it out to her. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

Leticia shook her head, and now that we were away from the submerged treacherous reefs of discussing intimacy, her smile became more convincing. “It wasn’t very expensive,” she waved her hand in dismissal. “And now I have an excuse to go shopping in the city tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

Leticia nodded. “Jonah, I will have to go into the office tomorrow. I can’t sit on this material – the editor is waiting for my articles. If I get into work early in the morning, and work like a slave all day, I may have everything finished and ready for publication before they throw me out of the building.”

I frowned. “I was hoping we would spend tomorrow together,” I said. “I have a conference call to the Middle East about a property deal that must be made tomorrow night. If I don’t see you tomorrow, then when?”

Leticia made a pleading gesture with her hands. “Jonah, it’s just one more day. After that we will have three whole months together – but you must understand that I need to deliver these articles to the newspaper as soon as possible.”

“I do understand. But I’m not willing to waste any opportunity – no matter how brief – for us to be together… So I will pick you up from your office tomorrow evening and take you to dinner. If I can’t have you for the day, and my work keeps me from you through the night, then I am damn-well going to at least share a meal with you.”

Leticia looked flattered, but then became practical. “Jonah, I have no idea what time I will be working until. I have a lot that I need to do… I don’t know that dinner will be possible.”

I shook my head. I had made up my mind. “I am coming to your office,” I said firmly. “You said they throw you out of the building at night. What time does that happen?”

The tone of my voice melted Leticia’s defiance. She sighed and then shrugged. “Maybe seven o’clock,” she said with resignation. “Normally everyone finishes work at five. Sometimes the editor stays until six, but the office is open another hour so the production team can arrive for work. They are in a different part of the building, and they work through the night compositing the paper ready for printing in the morning.”

I nodded again and crossed my arms, standing like a stone statue. “Very well. I will be at your office at six thirty…” my voice trailed off as a sudden wicked idea struck me. I lowered my chin and thought for a moment then stared back at Leticia with narrow, calculating eyes.

“Leticia, describe your office to me. Do you have a desk of your own?”

Leticia frowned, puzzled, and then nodded cautiously. “Yes… I have my own desk. It’s in the editorial office.”

“And you have how many journalists working at the paper? Four? Five?”

“Four others,” Leticia explained. “Between us we cover all the local news, and then the newspaper gets national and international news fed to it through the usual media outlets.”

I nodded. I knew enough about newspapers from my own experiences. I had a good sense of how a newspaper was run. The editorial department would be separate to the administration and sales divisions.

“And your biggest newspaper of the week is on Saturday, right?”

Leticia nodded, wary because my sudden interest in her work was so unexpected.

“And your smallest newspaper of the week is probably the Tuesday or Thursday editions?”

Again, Leticia nodded. “Jonah, why are you asking me this? You have never shown any interest in my work. Just a few days ago you wanted me to quit my job for you. Now you want to know the kind of details a bank robber needs before he breaks into the building.”

I smiled enigmatically. “Call me curious,” I offered.

Leticia narrowed her eyes shrewdly. “I can accept that you’re curious,” she studied my face and perhaps saw the glint of mischief in my eyes, “but that’s not what I would call you,” she said suddenly. “I think you’re a rogue.”

Chapter 15.

I glanced at my watch. It was passed midday. I smiled grimly and reached for the phone on the edge of my office desk. I had Leticia’s cell number but I didn’t call it. Instead, I dialed her newspaper office directly and asked the receptionist to be put through to editorial.

The phone rang for several moments, and then I heard Leticia’s voice sounding breathless and harried.

“You have called the ‘Examiner’. This is Leticia Fall speaking.”

I paused for a heartbeat. “Hello,” I said warmly.

Leticia’s voice changed in an instant to one of delight and shock.

“Jonah? Oh my god, what a pleasant surprise.”

I smiled wolfishly to myself and stared out of the office window with the phone pressed hard against my ear. “Leticia, this is not about being pleasant – this is about pleasure.”

There was a heavy puzzled silence for several moments. I could imagine Leticia perched on the corner of her desk, frowning into the phone. I could imagine the muted traffic of ot

her journalists passing by her as she spoke to me. I visualized them at their desks or on their own phones taking notes and preparing the next day’s articles.

“Pardon?”

“I am calling about pleasure,” I repeated, my voice deep and deliberate. “Tell me where you are right now.”

Another brief flustered pause. “I’m… I’m at my desk, of course.”

“Are you sitting behind your desk?”

“Yes…”

“Describe what you are wearing.”

Leticia paused for a moment as though she had to think. “A white blouse, and a grey skirt,” she said.

“Good,” I said. “Now tell me, who else is in the office with you?”

Leticia inhaled a short breath. She still sounded confused, but there was a trace of wary caution that I detected in her voice, and when she spoke again, her words were muted and hushed.

“There are a couple of other journalists. Why?”

I ignored her question. “Do their desks face yours?”

“Um… one does, the other faces the wall. Why?” she asked again.

I leaned forward in my chair and put sudden intensity into my voice. “Put the phone down,” I said. “I want you to go to the rest room and remove your panties, and then come back to your desk.”

I had this sudden image in my mind of Leticia – the blood draining away from her face and her body breaking out into a cold sweat as the sudden realization of my words struck her. In my mind’s eye, I saw her eyes becoming huge in her pale face and her hands beginning to tremble.

“Jonah! Jesus! I… I can’t do that!” her voice was a harsh whisper of dread.

“Yes you can,” I insisted. “Go and do it now.”

I kept the phone pressed hard to my ear. In the background, I could hear the clatter of someone typing on a computer, and further, more distant sounds of a telephone ringing. Suddenly there was a loud crash of noise, and I realized Leticia had set the phone down on her desk.

I waited with growing impatience. After several minutes I heard Leticia’s voice, too loud and fraught with her anxiety. “I have done it,” she said.

“Good girl,” I crooned. “Are you sitting behind your desk?”

“Yes,” Leticia hissed, not with anger, but with rising tension.

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