Free Brides Of The Impaler by Edward Lee Page B

shame, trying to attain an optimum focus as the woman dried herself with a black towel. When she turned and bent over, Rollin winced at the exotic sight, then—worse—she reversed her pose and stretched upright, displaying a flat stomach and dark blonde pubic area. Rollin closed his eyes and sighed.
    He didn’t feel like so much of a pervert when the woman donned a robe, then strode out to the kitchen. He noticed a stunning tamber cabinet topped with crystal against one wall, and then recognized a kitchen nook with flooring made of herringbone Waterfall maple. He only knew this because he’d been to a billionaire’s home once in Barcelona, trying to convince the magnate to contribute to some European orphan charities. Rollin groaned as more of his own material lust cringed. Travertine marble, good Lord! These people have a lot of money …
    His thoughts re engaged when a man walked into the kitchen, boldly naked, and came up behind the blonde woman. He caressed her from behind, gave her a smiling start. Pretty girl , Rollin noted when she grinned over her shoulder. The man stood trim but stocky, well-muscled, had short dark hair, clean shaven. Mr. Paul Nasher, attorney- at- law, I presume . He and the woman laughed silently as some cat play ensued. Oh, please , Rollin thought, groaning: Paul Nasher had removed a can of whipped cream from the double-doored refrigerator and was now cornering the woman with it. Nasher mock-muscled her against a dining table, shucked the robe off of her, and began to lay her back as she halfheartedly objected. Rollin frowned when Nasher kneed right up on the table, which probably cost five or ten thousand dollars, and began applying lines of the whipped cream around the woman’s breasts and belly.
    I guess I really shouldn’t be looking at this …
    He peered more closely at the rest of the floor, then examined the dark windows upstairs. Some moonlight filteredin through a rear window on the second floor, and Rollin noticed stacks of moving boxes. What do they even need a house that big for, especially if it’s just the two of them? But then he frowned at his own oversight. But of course, he’s a LAWYER who deals in REAL ESTATE. To him the house is an investment that will turn into a cash cow …
    Then, Rollin aimed the binoculars down toward the basement. Good, he thought. The sidewalk-level basement windows remained securely covered by iron bars…
    But tomorrow I’ll have to check the windows in the back …
    There was no conscious thought when he roved the glasses back to the dining room table and saw at once that the previous whipped-cream frivolity had now been abandoned in favor of full-blown and rather frenetic sex. Nasher had the woman on her hands and knees on the sumptuous table, he behind her, thrusting. The look on Nasher’s face appeared focused, determined, very much like an attorney in court. How hackneyed , Rollin thought. He makes love like he’s deliberating over a lawsuit . And the woman…
    She shined in sweat now, her full breasts rocking beneath her. Her head rocked as the muscles of her lithe physique tensed, highlighting a raw, primal beauty. Rollin knew he shouldn’t be watching, because he knew it was from something primal in him as well. Now the woman’s head arched back, her blonde hair disarrayed as her climax became evident. Rollin actually heard her ecstatic shriek through the windows…
    The woman collapsed on the table, a cheek flat against the expensive wood. Her eyes closed and she made a sated grin.
    Rollin had a feeling he knew what Nasher was about to proceed with next, and that’s when he pulled the binoculars from his eyes.
    But how much of his deeds had been motivated by sin? Forgive me, God , a thought whispered. It was atest—something God was known to do to him quite often, a real-world circumstance that his duties had forced him to see, and then the notion that threatened to be the saddest regret. What he’d been watching on the table