A/N: Betaed by Jen.
Part Sixty-Nine
When Yvonne returned from the prison, she had a long soak in the bath, mentally and physically preparing herself for what she hoped would come to her that evening. Not since Karen, had Yvonne had anything like a decent orgasm, and nearly eighteen months was far too long for Yvonne Atkins to go without a screw. But just what had possessed her to ask him over for dinner, she didn't know. Yes, John was a very good-looking bloke for his age, which she guessed was a few years older than her, somewhere in his mid fifties. He also had a voice that she knew could turn her to jelly if used in the right way, and on top of that, he had fully understood her meaning behind the euphemism of dinner. But what about Jo? Yvonne couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt when she thought of Jo, the woman who was becoming a friend, the woman who had saved her Lauren from a life sentence, a woman who certainly didn't deserve to have John cheating on her. Don't even go there, she told herself sternly, or you'll back out before you've hardly begun. You know this will only happen once, and what Jo doesn't know won't hurt her, or anyone else. But standing in front of the wardrobe, Yvonne was presented with a quandary. What in God's name should she wear? With any other bloke, her leathers would have been the obvious choice, but she didn't think John would be that kind of guy. He probably liked his women to be feminine, instead of shouting from the rooftops that they knew the ins and outs of a gun as well as a food processor. Finally selecting a very clingy, very understated black dress, knowing that whilst this was undoubtedly feminine, it wouldn't make him think she'd had a personality transplant. Looking at herself in the mirror as she applied her make up, she was forced to admit that she really did look rather good, for someone who would be fifty in August. Then it struck her; it had been almost three years since she'd had sex with a man, not since Ajit Kahn to be exact. Flashing her teeth at her reflection, she just hoped that she hadn't lost her touch.
As John pulled up in Yvonne's drive, his eyebrows soared. He knew Yvonne had money, but he had thoroughly underestimated just how well she'd invested it. Even from the outside, her house looked incredibly well maintained, and the sort of pile that one would hold onto at all costs. He recognised Yvonne's Ferrari, from when he'd seen it outside court, but who did the silver Jag and the sleek, black Mercedes-Benz belong to? What he didn't realise, was that Yvonne had scaled everything down since Lauren had been arrested, getting rid of all but both hers and Lauren's personal cars, and Charlie's Jag. It had seemed to be her way of acknowledging that money wasn't everything, and that she would far rather have her daughter back, than all the possessions Charlie would have bought her. But she couldn't quite make herself get rid of his Jag. She didn't know why, and she knew it was ridiculous, but Charlie had lavished almost more affection on his Jag than he had on his children, and maybe she needed that proof that there had been a normal facet to Charlie's personality, an innocent pride in his favourite car. When she opened the door, she smiled to see him. "I wasn't sure you'd come back," She found herself saying, inwardly kicking herself for revealing her insecurity. "I never, ever, go back on my word," He said, his deep, thoroughly masculine tones creeping over her senses. "Would you mind if I let Mimi out of the car?" "No, of course not." As he walked back to the car to fetch a delighted Mimi, Yvonne scrutinized his figure. Whatever he did to keep in shape, it certainly worked. Recognising a friend, Mimi bounded up to Yvonne, and gave an excited little bark, bringing a surprised Trigger ambling into the hall. "Whose is the Jag?" John asked, as he went in and she closed the door behind him. "It used to be Charlie's," Yvonne replied, leading him towards the kitchen. "It sounds stupid, but it's the one thing of his that I couldn't quite bring myself to part with." If he had been impressed with the outside of her house, that was nothing compared to the interior. Yvonne had the same eye for decor, furnishings, and simple, though expensive, taste as George. This might have been where Charlie Atkins had once lived and ruled supreme, but he could tell that Yvonne had made this house her own. The stone flagged kitchen with its scrubbed wooden table, and faint, February sun creeping in through the windows that looked out onto the garden and swimming pool. "Would you like a glass of wine?" She asked, moving over to the well-stocked wine rack. Saying that yes, he would, John looked her over. She looked incredible, very simply dressed, but stunning. When he was on the pull so to speak, he didn't usually go in for women so close to his own age, but Yvonne intrigued him. She was different from the women he usually made a play for, with an inner poise, a self-confidence that told him she knew exactly what she wanted, if not from life itself, then definitely from him. "So," He said contemplatively. "That's how you keep in such glorious shape." Yvonne, seeing that he was looking out at the pool, smirked at him. "Every day of the year, even if it's raining." "That's just torture," He said with a smile. "Oh, I don't know," She said with a wink. "It's really just an extreme version of a cold shower, which you look like you could do with right now," She added, running her hand suggestively over the neck of the bottle of red, before picking up the corkscrew. He knew she was playing with him, pushing him to the threshold of his restraint, and he loved it. The compliments that were rolling off his tongue with total ease, they weren't things he'd come out with since the old days. He'd been totally and utterly faithful to his three-way relationship with Jo and George, devoted to them and only them for nearly sixteen months, a lifetime in the matter of his previous sexual activity. He had no idea what had possessed him to suddenly break his word, but here he was, slipping so easily back into his old familiar self. "Yvonne," He said carefully, trying to get a grip on himself. "I shouldn't really be doing this." "I know," Yvonne said gently. "And with Jo being a very good friend, neither should I." After removing the cork from the bottle, she laid the corkscrew down on the table and walked over to him. "But I'm not wrong," She said, resting a hand on the collar of his shirt. "To suggest, that this is still what you want, no matter how much we both know we shouldn't be doing it." "No," He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You wouldn't be wrong in the slightest." When her lips touched his, she thought they were the softest, most pliable lips she'd met in a long time. With the manly texture of his skin, and the pleasant though not overpowering fragrance of his aftershave reaching her nose, he was as far removed from her memories of Karen as he could be. When his arms gently went round her waist, and hers reached up to go round his neck, she felt the comforting strength in his hard, well-muscled chest. "Shall we allow the wine to breathe?" He suggested quietly. "Decent red wine should always be given time to breathe," Yvonne replied, taking his hand and leading the way upstairs.
Once in her gloriously opulent bedroom, his hands began moving over her as if of their own accord, peeling off her clingy, black dress, followed by the simple black, lace bra, and an almost non-existent pair of black, lace knickers, whilst she was simultaneously undoing the buttons on his shirt, and eventually reaching his belt which she undid in a trice. When their clothes had been discarded, they simply stared at each other, Yvonne seeing the well-defined muscles of the man who looked after himself, and John seeing the toned, healthy body of this woman who swam every day, come rain or shine. He watched in amusement, as her eyes dropped fleetingly and assessingly to his cock, taking in its fairly impressive size. "Everything comes to she who waits," John said mockingly, tilting her face, and therefore her eyes, back up to his. "Is that right?" Yvonne replied, as they moved as one under the duvet. "Well, I've never yet disappointed a woman on that score, so yes, I should say so. Is it your usual practice to visually assess the people you are about to sleep with in such detail?" "I haven't been this close to a bloke for nearly three years, so I was just finding out how much I'm likely to enjoy it, that's all." "Oh, and do you think you will, enjoy it, that is?" He asked, grinning wickedly at her as their hands began to wander. "Oh, I think I'm going to enjoy this, considerably," She replied, laying particular emphasis on the word considerably, at the same time laying a hand on his cock. "Well, if you would like me to live up to your expectation," He said between kisses. "Don't do much more of that." "Jesus, a bloke who is actually eager to please," Said Yvonne in surprise. "That's a new one." "Oh, I thought Ajit Kahn was perfectly eager to please," John said with a smile. "Yeah, well, he was being paid for it." "Has it really been that long?" "With a bloke, yes," She confirmed, briefly reminding them both that she had slept with Karen, had been in love with and was possibly still in love with Karen. Laying his hand on one of her breasts and gently fondling it, he said, "Tell me what you like." "Oh, I'm open to suggestion," Yvonne said languidly. "Karen's still talking to you after sleeping with you, so you can't be into anything too weird." His hand freezing on her in mid caress, John moved slightly back from her and just stared. "Oh, don't look like that," Yvonne admonished a little unsympathetically. "How do you know about that?" He asked carefully. "It's obvious," Yvonne replied with a fond smile. "I'd always suspected it, but when you defended her honour so forcefully in court, I was certain. You weren't just defending her as a judge, you were defending her as a friend." "So, why did that lead to the conclusion that I'd slept with her?" "Because I think she slept with you, as a way of getting over me. It's how Karen deals with things that hurt her, and there's a closeness between you two that wouldn't be there if you hadn't." "It only happened the once," He tried to reassure her, though not really knowing why he was. "I know," Yvonne said gently. "Karen, though this probably applies to you too, would have needed to get any sexual attraction out of the way, before she could be as close a friend to you as she is." "So, it doesn't bother you that I have slept with Karen?" "No, why should it? I know she didn't do it while she was still with me, so it doesn't matter." John didn't tell her that there had only been a matter of days between when Karen had ended her relationship with Yvonne, and when she had slept with him. "Hey," Yvonne said affectionately, to get them back on track. "You're not supposed to stop."
Taking her at her word, he began kissing her again, and moving his hand over her delightfully constructed cleavage. "Seeing as you haven't slept with a man in quite a while," He said between kisses. "There must be something you've especially missed." She knew he was goading her, seeing just how open and relaxed she could be. Sod it, she thought with an inward shrug. Here was a man, and a very good-looking man at that, who was at least prepared to consider doing anything for her. A chance like this probably wouldn't come along again for a very long time, so she may as well take the bull by the horns. "I do love being given oral," She said, looking him straight in the eye to gauge his reaction. So many blokes didn't like doing that, and whilst Yvonne might badly want him to do that for her, she wasn't about to pressure anyone into doing anything. "Ah, well," He said with a broad smile at her slight shyness. "It's a good job I very much enjoy giving it then, isn't it." "Thing is," Yvonne said, avoiding his gaze and looking a little uncomfortable. "I'm not especially in the mood for doing that to you." John was touched by her honesty. Many women would have taken all he had to give in that respect, before telling him that they weren't prepared to do the same. "That doesn't matter," He said gently. "It just so happens that giving pleasure, is without doubt one of my favourite pastimes." Yvonne laughed. "Isn't it for everyone?" "Ah, but I am purposefully making the distinction between giving and receiving." As he said this, he trailed his hand down, until he could slide it between her slim, extremely well toned thighs. "I must be doing something right," he said with a smile, on discovering how aroused she was. "Definitely," Yvonne confirmed, her kisses becoming far more intense as John's hand moved between her legs. Regretfully detaching his lips from her utterly enchanting mouth, he began kissing his way down her body, making sure to give both nipples some prolonged attention on his way down. This meant that when he finally arrived at her clit, Yvonne was twitching with extreme arousal, coupled with a desire not to entirely lose control. It had been so long since she'd had a man do this to her, that the effort needed to maintain her self-control, was testing inner reserves that she'd forgotten she had. Of course she wanted to enjoy everything this wonderful man might do for her, but that didn't mean it paid to totally let go with one. He seemed to sense this thought, and whilst his mouth was otherwise engaged, all he could do was to vow to give her an orgasm she wouldn't forget.
As Yvonne felt John's tongue gently tease at her entrance, she gasped. This was perhaps the first sign that her control was slipping, and he was pleased by it. He hadn't doubted in the least that she was loving what he was doing to her, but John was well aware that since Charlie Atkins, she had probably made it her mission to never entirely lose control with anyone. He understood this, because it wasn't very far from his extreme desire to keep a hold on his emotions. But even though both he and Yvonne knew that they would make love once and only the once, he wanted to make her trust him, to let go with him in the way she only had done with Karen. Moving his tongue back up to her clit, he inched three fingers inside her, grazing her G spot with every thrust. Yvonne's breath was coming in quicker and quicker gasps, and John knew she was getting close. "Just let go, Yvonne," He murmured, feeling her internal muscles begin to contract around his fingers. Yvonne couldn't help it, she just had to obey his words of encouragement. This man was far too good at what he was doing, and it was the first orgasm of oral origin she'd had since Karen. She couldn't help crying out as she came, but the vocal reaction to the intensity of her feelings simply burst out of her, her body going rigid, her internal muscles almost squeezing the life out of John's fingers.
When John gently removed his hand, and moved to lie back beside her, she stared at him in amazement. "I think I'd forgotten how good it could be," She said, her breathing gradually returning to normal. When she leaned over to kiss him, she could taste herself on his lips, this briefly reminding her of doing the same to Karen. "So, did I answer your question?" Yvonne looked momentarily baffled. "Of what Karen saw in me?" He clarified, making her look very uncomfortable at being found out. "That wasn't just why I did this, you know," She said with a slightly hesitant smile. "Oh, I know," He replied confidently. "But that was part of it, wasn't it?" "You can't blame me for being curious." "No, of course not." "To answer your question," Yvonne admitted, her smile slipping a little. "I think you might have helped Karen get over me a bit too successfully." Ignoring the veiled compliment for the moment, John said gently, "It wasn't an easy decision for her to make, by any means." "That's debatable," Yvonne replied, beginning to kiss him again, because she knew that if she wanted an answer to the question that had been haunting her for months, she would only get it when he was in a state of post-coital relaxation, where his guard would be well and truly down.
This time, when she laid her well-practiced hand on his cock, he didn't discourage her. Good God, he thought after a while. Her hand is far more sinful than it looks on first inspection. Yvonne gasped when he finally entered her, it having been so long since she'd been in this age-old position. So, it was true, she thought, it really was like riding a bike, something you never ever forgot how to do. This wasn't any ordinary screw, though. This man had class, style and an abundance of finesse when it came to straight, almost primeval fucking. She wrapped her arms and legs round him, reveling whilst she could in the sheer luxury of having a strong, sturdy man to cling to. When he inched a hand between them to touch her clit, she knew he was close, and she took a certain amount of pleasure in making this judge, this embodiment of legal and moral integrity, actually lower his barriers and lose that self-control he held so dear. She kissed him long and hard as they came, gripping him to her, for that one point in time, feeling that all the hurt this may cause would be worth it.
As they lay afterwards, their arms loosely draped around each other and feeling completely boneless, John reflected that even if this was the first time he'd strayed in sixteen months, and even though he knew he would feel guilty, it had been worth it. Yvonne was stunning, she was fantastic in bed, and he knew that she wouldn't go all soppy on him and expect either a repeat performance, or any kind of recognition that it had happened. "You're beautiful," He said softly, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. "That's lust talking," Yvonne said with a smile. "I haven't been beautiful for more years than I care to remember. Besides, most blokes think every woman is beautiful when they've just slept with her." "No, you've got it the wrong way round," He said with a smile. "It's immediately after they've slept with her that reality tends to set in. If a woman isn't beautiful before you sleep with her, then she certainly won't be afterwards." "Was Karen?" Yvonne found herself asking. "Yes, she was," John said fondly. "But then you know that." "It's different," Yvonne told him. "There's something so special about sleeping with a woman, that you just can't get with a bloke, no matter how good he is," She said, smiling at him. "You really miss her, don't you?" He said, seeing a brief flash of intense longing in her eyes. "Some days more than others, but yeah. That ended before it'd really had chance to get going. But then, we both know why it did end, don't we?" Her statement was said in the same afterglow tone of voice, but he could feel an underlying intensity that ought to have given him warning of something a little more sinister. "I know it was partly to do with Lauren," He said carefully. "Oh, that's funny," Yvonne said quietly. "Because I thought it was you who managed to get the identity of Fenner's killer out of her. You, Jo and George." John stayed perfectly still, just managing to school his face into its typically blank expression. Just what had he walked into? "What makes you say that?" He asked, wondering how in hell's name she'd worked it out. "All you will be doing by telling me," Yvonne tried to reassure him. "Is confirming what I've thought for a long time. Karen put an end to our relationship, on the afternoon of the day she'd had a session with the legal profession's answer to MI5. I doubt if I could have kept quiet under that sort of pressure, so Karen had no chance." "By giving you a direct answer to that question, Yvonne, I would be breaking my word, and we all promised Karen we wouldn't do that." "And by saying such a thing, you've done exactly that," Yvonne replied with a lopsided smile. "But I take your point." "You weren't there, Yvonne," He persisted. "George really did think Karen had killed him. I knew she hadn't, and Jo was somewhere in between. We had to know." "I know," Yvonne said, seeing that she had well and truly thrown him by doing this. "Yvonne," He continued, desperate to make her see how serious this was. "She thought you would want her dead." "I know that an' all," Yvonne said bleakly. "Karen could never quite accept that I'm no longer the person I was before Larkhall. I don't blame her really, with what happened with Lauren, but it didn't make it any easier. Karen was, is, the most precious thing that ever happened to me, and I would never want any harm to come to her, no matter what she did." "To give Karen her due," John said gently, seeing such strength of feeling in Yvonne, that he knew Karen would always be perfectly safe where she was concerned. "She didn't give up without a fight. I'm used to seeing George as furious as she was that day, but I'm not used to seeing anyone match her as well as Karen did. She gave George just as good as she got, and only began to crack when George began questioning your involvement. George thought that if Karen hadn't killed Fenner, you might have done, because of what Fenner did to her." "Well, she wasn't far wrong," Yvonne said ruefully. "I did consider it, briefly, but not even for Karen was I prepared to go back inside." They lay there for a while, just taking in everything that had been said. "Karen mustn't know that you know," John said eventually. "No, she won't. She feels guilty enough as it is for being with George, so I'm not about to make it worse."
A while later, when they'd had a gloriously sensual shower together, they went downstairs, to find Trigger and Mimi happily ensconced in the lounge, playfully fighting over a knotted rope, one of Trigger's favourite toys. He was lying on his front, with the rope draped across his front paws, softly nosing Mimi away whenever she tried to steal it. "Are you hungry?" Yvonne asked, prompting an immediate reaction from Trigger, though the question had been meant for John. "After that incredible bit of exercise," He said with a smile. "I certainly am." Smirking at the compliment, Yvonne moved into the kitchen and began rummaging in the fridge, emerging with a couple of fillet steaks, that she'd taken out of the freezer to defrost before going to Larkhall. As she peeled and then began sautéing some potatoes to go with the steak, John made himself useful by chopping some salad, and pouring them both a glass of the red wine which had been given ample breathing time. "So, if I swim every day," Yvonne said, throwing some herbs into the frying pan. "What do you do to keep that extremely good body in shape?" "I fence," John replied, taking a sip of the wine, which he had to admit would be a very good accompaniment to the steak. "You what?" Yvonne looked round at him in surprise. "I fence," He repeated. Yvonne looked at him assessingly. "Yeah, I could see you with a sword, jousting at dawn over some woman." John laughed. "It has been known," He said, thinking of the numerous occasions he'd fenced with Row Colmore, more often than not over Jo. "Though never at dawn." "Boys and their toys," Yvonne said in faint amusement. "How was Denny when you saw her this afternoon?" John asked, as he watched Yvonne put the steaks under the grill. "Not brilliant," Yvonne said despondently. "She's started taking drugs again." "Oh, I'm sorry," John said in sympathy. "Well, drugs can be an occupational hazard when you're inside," Yvonne said matter-of-factly. "But Denny going back on them after all this time isn't a good sign." "I saw her a couple of weeks ago," John enlightened. Then, at Yvonne's raised eyebrow, he clarified. "I dropped in to see Karen about something, and I was fairly forcefully put in my place by Denny." Yvonne couldn't help smiling. "What did she say?" She asked, hoping it wasn't something too outrageous. "A lot of things, but ending with the assertion that just because I hadn't committed a crime, didn't mean I knew everything about how to survive." "That sounds like my Denny," Yvonne said fondly, showing John in those few precious words, just how much Denny meant to her. "It was on Valentine's Day, and I don't think she was very happy." "No, she wouldn't have been. Valentine's Day used to get most of us like that. There'd be a few of the girls who'd get flowers or cards sent in, which kind of hammered it home to the rest of us that we didn't. I'm surprised Karen let you anywhere near the wing on that day of all days. The Julies must be losing their touch if you got away completely unscathed."
As they ate, Yvonne filled him in on some of the slightly scurrilous stories from her days in Larkhall. "Were drugs ever a problem for you?" He found himself asking, his curiosity continually peaked by the brief insight he was being given of that other world. "No," Yvonne said firmly. "Never. I might have got the odd miniature of scotch smuggled in here and there, but that was it." Trigger came up to Yvonne, and sat next to her chair, gazing up at her with the saddest, most doleful eyes he could muster. "Sod off," Yvonne said smartly, flicking him on the end of his nose. "Lauren might feed you from the table, but you know I don't." As Trigger slunk away into the lounge with his tail between his legs, Mimi followed him. "I think Mimi's a little awestruck with him," John said with a smile. "Where did you get her?" Yvonne asked, pouring them both another glass of wine. "My daughter likes to push my patience to the limit, by illegally rescuing dogs from research laboratories. You would think that with both her mother and father working in the legal profession, she might know better, but not so far." John might be casting doubt on his daughter's dubious activities, but Yvonne could see that deep in his heart, he was proud of her. "I can't picture George having a kid," Yvonne said contemplatively. John looked up surprised. "George told us all that she was your ex, on the first day of the trial," Yvonne filled in. "George couldn't picture herself with a child for quite a long time," He said, wondering just how this woman seemed to drag confidences out of him, almost by telepathy. "I know you obviously still see her through what you both do, but what about outside court?" "It's complicated," He replied slowly, and she could see that this was a bit of a forbidden topic. As they finished eating, and put the plates in the dishwasher, they tried to talk about anything that wasn't either George or Karen related. Yvonne badly didn't want him to go, for once in her life thoroughly enjoying having a man in her house again, but she did her best not to let it show. Walking into the lounge, they found Trigger, sprawled contentedly in his basket, with Mimi curled up against him. "She's changed her tune since this morning," Yvonne said with a smile. "Do you mind if I take a picture? That's just too good to miss." "Be my guest," John replied, seeing that Mimi was completely ignoring him, in favour of her new canine friend. When Yvonne returned with her camera, she took a couple of snaps, both dogs seeming to pose with all the natural charm of someone well used to the pointing of the lens. "I'd better go," John said regretfully. "Just one thing," Yvonne said, looking him straight in the eye. "Don't feel guilty about this. We both know it ain't going to happen again, so what Jo doesn't know, won't hurt her." With a surge of gratitude at her understanding and sensitivity, he instinctively put out his arms and drew her to him. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world," He said, gently kissing her. "No, me neither," She replied, kissing him back. As she stood at the front door, with Trigger at her side, the two of them watching John back out of the drive, Yvonne vowed to hold onto the memory of that afternoon, to treasure it somewhere safe, because men, or women, like him, were one in a million, and might not be likely to look her way again for some time to come.
Part Sixty-Nine
When Yvonne returned from the prison, she had a long soak in the bath, mentally and physically preparing herself for what she hoped would come to her that evening. Not since Karen, had Yvonne had anything like a decent orgasm, and nearly eighteen months was far too long for Yvonne Atkins to go without a screw. But just what had possessed her to ask him over for dinner, she didn't know. Yes, John was a very good-looking bloke for his age, which she guessed was a few years older than her, somewhere in his mid fifties. He also had a voice that she knew could turn her to jelly if used in the right way, and on top of that, he had fully understood her meaning behind the euphemism of dinner. But what about Jo? Yvonne couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt when she thought of Jo, the woman who was becoming a friend, the woman who had saved her Lauren from a life sentence, a woman who certainly didn't deserve to have John cheating on her. Don't even go there, she told herself sternly, or you'll back out before you've hardly begun. You know this will only happen once, and what Jo doesn't know won't hurt her, or anyone else. But standing in front of the wardrobe, Yvonne was presented with a quandary. What in God's name should she wear? With any other bloke, her leathers would have been the obvious choice, but she didn't think John would be that kind of guy. He probably liked his women to be feminine, instead of shouting from the rooftops that they knew the ins and outs of a gun as well as a food processor. Finally selecting a very clingy, very understated black dress, knowing that whilst this was undoubtedly feminine, it wouldn't make him think she'd had a personality transplant. Looking at herself in the mirror as she applied her make up, she was forced to admit that she really did look rather good, for someone who would be fifty in August. Then it struck her; it had been almost three years since she'd had sex with a man, not since Ajit Kahn to be exact. Flashing her teeth at her reflection, she just hoped that she hadn't lost her touch.
As John pulled up in Yvonne's drive, his eyebrows soared. He knew Yvonne had money, but he had thoroughly underestimated just how well she'd invested it. Even from the outside, her house looked incredibly well maintained, and the sort of pile that one would hold onto at all costs. He recognised Yvonne's Ferrari, from when he'd seen it outside court, but who did the silver Jag and the sleek, black Mercedes-Benz belong to? What he didn't realise, was that Yvonne had scaled everything down since Lauren had been arrested, getting rid of all but both hers and Lauren's personal cars, and Charlie's Jag. It had seemed to be her way of acknowledging that money wasn't everything, and that she would far rather have her daughter back, than all the possessions Charlie would have bought her. But she couldn't quite make herself get rid of his Jag. She didn't know why, and she knew it was ridiculous, but Charlie had lavished almost more affection on his Jag than he had on his children, and maybe she needed that proof that there had been a normal facet to Charlie's personality, an innocent pride in his favourite car. When she opened the door, she smiled to see him. "I wasn't sure you'd come back," She found herself saying, inwardly kicking herself for revealing her insecurity. "I never, ever, go back on my word," He said, his deep, thoroughly masculine tones creeping over her senses. "Would you mind if I let Mimi out of the car?" "No, of course not." As he walked back to the car to fetch a delighted Mimi, Yvonne scrutinized his figure. Whatever he did to keep in shape, it certainly worked. Recognising a friend, Mimi bounded up to Yvonne, and gave an excited little bark, bringing a surprised Trigger ambling into the hall. "Whose is the Jag?" John asked, as he went in and she closed the door behind him. "It used to be Charlie's," Yvonne replied, leading him towards the kitchen. "It sounds stupid, but it's the one thing of his that I couldn't quite bring myself to part with." If he had been impressed with the outside of her house, that was nothing compared to the interior. Yvonne had the same eye for decor, furnishings, and simple, though expensive, taste as George. This might have been where Charlie Atkins had once lived and ruled supreme, but he could tell that Yvonne had made this house her own. The stone flagged kitchen with its scrubbed wooden table, and faint, February sun creeping in through the windows that looked out onto the garden and swimming pool. "Would you like a glass of wine?" She asked, moving over to the well-stocked wine rack. Saying that yes, he would, John looked her over. She looked incredible, very simply dressed, but stunning. When he was on the pull so to speak, he didn't usually go in for women so close to his own age, but Yvonne intrigued him. She was different from the women he usually made a play for, with an inner poise, a self-confidence that told him she knew exactly what she wanted, if not from life itself, then definitely from him. "So," He said contemplatively. "That's how you keep in such glorious shape." Yvonne, seeing that he was looking out at the pool, smirked at him. "Every day of the year, even if it's raining." "That's just torture," He said with a smile. "Oh, I don't know," She said with a wink. "It's really just an extreme version of a cold shower, which you look like you could do with right now," She added, running her hand suggestively over the neck of the bottle of red, before picking up the corkscrew. He knew she was playing with him, pushing him to the threshold of his restraint, and he loved it. The compliments that were rolling off his tongue with total ease, they weren't things he'd come out with since the old days. He'd been totally and utterly faithful to his three-way relationship with Jo and George, devoted to them and only them for nearly sixteen months, a lifetime in the matter of his previous sexual activity. He had no idea what had possessed him to suddenly break his word, but here he was, slipping so easily back into his old familiar self. "Yvonne," He said carefully, trying to get a grip on himself. "I shouldn't really be doing this." "I know," Yvonne said gently. "And with Jo being a very good friend, neither should I." After removing the cork from the bottle, she laid the corkscrew down on the table and walked over to him. "But I'm not wrong," She said, resting a hand on the collar of his shirt. "To suggest, that this is still what you want, no matter how much we both know we shouldn't be doing it." "No," He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You wouldn't be wrong in the slightest." When her lips touched his, she thought they were the softest, most pliable lips she'd met in a long time. With the manly texture of his skin, and the pleasant though not overpowering fragrance of his aftershave reaching her nose, he was as far removed from her memories of Karen as he could be. When his arms gently went round her waist, and hers reached up to go round his neck, she felt the comforting strength in his hard, well-muscled chest. "Shall we allow the wine to breathe?" He suggested quietly. "Decent red wine should always be given time to breathe," Yvonne replied, taking his hand and leading the way upstairs.
Once in her gloriously opulent bedroom, his hands began moving over her as if of their own accord, peeling off her clingy, black dress, followed by the simple black, lace bra, and an almost non-existent pair of black, lace knickers, whilst she was simultaneously undoing the buttons on his shirt, and eventually reaching his belt which she undid in a trice. When their clothes had been discarded, they simply stared at each other, Yvonne seeing the well-defined muscles of the man who looked after himself, and John seeing the toned, healthy body of this woman who swam every day, come rain or shine. He watched in amusement, as her eyes dropped fleetingly and assessingly to his cock, taking in its fairly impressive size. "Everything comes to she who waits," John said mockingly, tilting her face, and therefore her eyes, back up to his. "Is that right?" Yvonne replied, as they moved as one under the duvet. "Well, I've never yet disappointed a woman on that score, so yes, I should say so. Is it your usual practice to visually assess the people you are about to sleep with in such detail?" "I haven't been this close to a bloke for nearly three years, so I was just finding out how much I'm likely to enjoy it, that's all." "Oh, and do you think you will, enjoy it, that is?" He asked, grinning wickedly at her as their hands began to wander. "Oh, I think I'm going to enjoy this, considerably," She replied, laying particular emphasis on the word considerably, at the same time laying a hand on his cock. "Well, if you would like me to live up to your expectation," He said between kisses. "Don't do much more of that." "Jesus, a bloke who is actually eager to please," Said Yvonne in surprise. "That's a new one." "Oh, I thought Ajit Kahn was perfectly eager to please," John said with a smile. "Yeah, well, he was being paid for it." "Has it really been that long?" "With a bloke, yes," She confirmed, briefly reminding them both that she had slept with Karen, had been in love with and was possibly still in love with Karen. Laying his hand on one of her breasts and gently fondling it, he said, "Tell me what you like." "Oh, I'm open to suggestion," Yvonne said languidly. "Karen's still talking to you after sleeping with you, so you can't be into anything too weird." His hand freezing on her in mid caress, John moved slightly back from her and just stared. "Oh, don't look like that," Yvonne admonished a little unsympathetically. "How do you know about that?" He asked carefully. "It's obvious," Yvonne replied with a fond smile. "I'd always suspected it, but when you defended her honour so forcefully in court, I was certain. You weren't just defending her as a judge, you were defending her as a friend." "So, why did that lead to the conclusion that I'd slept with her?" "Because I think she slept with you, as a way of getting over me. It's how Karen deals with things that hurt her, and there's a closeness between you two that wouldn't be there if you hadn't." "It only happened the once," He tried to reassure her, though not really knowing why he was. "I know," Yvonne said gently. "Karen, though this probably applies to you too, would have needed to get any sexual attraction out of the way, before she could be as close a friend to you as she is." "So, it doesn't bother you that I have slept with Karen?" "No, why should it? I know she didn't do it while she was still with me, so it doesn't matter." John didn't tell her that there had only been a matter of days between when Karen had ended her relationship with Yvonne, and when she had slept with him. "Hey," Yvonne said affectionately, to get them back on track. "You're not supposed to stop."
Taking her at her word, he began kissing her again, and moving his hand over her delightfully constructed cleavage. "Seeing as you haven't slept with a man in quite a while," He said between kisses. "There must be something you've especially missed." She knew he was goading her, seeing just how open and relaxed she could be. Sod it, she thought with an inward shrug. Here was a man, and a very good-looking man at that, who was at least prepared to consider doing anything for her. A chance like this probably wouldn't come along again for a very long time, so she may as well take the bull by the horns. "I do love being given oral," She said, looking him straight in the eye to gauge his reaction. So many blokes didn't like doing that, and whilst Yvonne might badly want him to do that for her, she wasn't about to pressure anyone into doing anything. "Ah, well," He said with a broad smile at her slight shyness. "It's a good job I very much enjoy giving it then, isn't it." "Thing is," Yvonne said, avoiding his gaze and looking a little uncomfortable. "I'm not especially in the mood for doing that to you." John was touched by her honesty. Many women would have taken all he had to give in that respect, before telling him that they weren't prepared to do the same. "That doesn't matter," He said gently. "It just so happens that giving pleasure, is without doubt one of my favourite pastimes." Yvonne laughed. "Isn't it for everyone?" "Ah, but I am purposefully making the distinction between giving and receiving." As he said this, he trailed his hand down, until he could slide it between her slim, extremely well toned thighs. "I must be doing something right," he said with a smile, on discovering how aroused she was. "Definitely," Yvonne confirmed, her kisses becoming far more intense as John's hand moved between her legs. Regretfully detaching his lips from her utterly enchanting mouth, he began kissing his way down her body, making sure to give both nipples some prolonged attention on his way down. This meant that when he finally arrived at her clit, Yvonne was twitching with extreme arousal, coupled with a desire not to entirely lose control. It had been so long since she'd had a man do this to her, that the effort needed to maintain her self-control, was testing inner reserves that she'd forgotten she had. Of course she wanted to enjoy everything this wonderful man might do for her, but that didn't mean it paid to totally let go with one. He seemed to sense this thought, and whilst his mouth was otherwise engaged, all he could do was to vow to give her an orgasm she wouldn't forget.
As Yvonne felt John's tongue gently tease at her entrance, she gasped. This was perhaps the first sign that her control was slipping, and he was pleased by it. He hadn't doubted in the least that she was loving what he was doing to her, but John was well aware that since Charlie Atkins, she had probably made it her mission to never entirely lose control with anyone. He understood this, because it wasn't very far from his extreme desire to keep a hold on his emotions. But even though both he and Yvonne knew that they would make love once and only the once, he wanted to make her trust him, to let go with him in the way she only had done with Karen. Moving his tongue back up to her clit, he inched three fingers inside her, grazing her G spot with every thrust. Yvonne's breath was coming in quicker and quicker gasps, and John knew she was getting close. "Just let go, Yvonne," He murmured, feeling her internal muscles begin to contract around his fingers. Yvonne couldn't help it, she just had to obey his words of encouragement. This man was far too good at what he was doing, and it was the first orgasm of oral origin she'd had since Karen. She couldn't help crying out as she came, but the vocal reaction to the intensity of her feelings simply burst out of her, her body going rigid, her internal muscles almost squeezing the life out of John's fingers.
When John gently removed his hand, and moved to lie back beside her, she stared at him in amazement. "I think I'd forgotten how good it could be," She said, her breathing gradually returning to normal. When she leaned over to kiss him, she could taste herself on his lips, this briefly reminding her of doing the same to Karen. "So, did I answer your question?" Yvonne looked momentarily baffled. "Of what Karen saw in me?" He clarified, making her look very uncomfortable at being found out. "That wasn't just why I did this, you know," She said with a slightly hesitant smile. "Oh, I know," He replied confidently. "But that was part of it, wasn't it?" "You can't blame me for being curious." "No, of course not." "To answer your question," Yvonne admitted, her smile slipping a little. "I think you might have helped Karen get over me a bit too successfully." Ignoring the veiled compliment for the moment, John said gently, "It wasn't an easy decision for her to make, by any means." "That's debatable," Yvonne replied, beginning to kiss him again, because she knew that if she wanted an answer to the question that had been haunting her for months, she would only get it when he was in a state of post-coital relaxation, where his guard would be well and truly down.
This time, when she laid her well-practiced hand on his cock, he didn't discourage her. Good God, he thought after a while. Her hand is far more sinful than it looks on first inspection. Yvonne gasped when he finally entered her, it having been so long since she'd been in this age-old position. So, it was true, she thought, it really was like riding a bike, something you never ever forgot how to do. This wasn't any ordinary screw, though. This man had class, style and an abundance of finesse when it came to straight, almost primeval fucking. She wrapped her arms and legs round him, reveling whilst she could in the sheer luxury of having a strong, sturdy man to cling to. When he inched a hand between them to touch her clit, she knew he was close, and she took a certain amount of pleasure in making this judge, this embodiment of legal and moral integrity, actually lower his barriers and lose that self-control he held so dear. She kissed him long and hard as they came, gripping him to her, for that one point in time, feeling that all the hurt this may cause would be worth it.
As they lay afterwards, their arms loosely draped around each other and feeling completely boneless, John reflected that even if this was the first time he'd strayed in sixteen months, and even though he knew he would feel guilty, it had been worth it. Yvonne was stunning, she was fantastic in bed, and he knew that she wouldn't go all soppy on him and expect either a repeat performance, or any kind of recognition that it had happened. "You're beautiful," He said softly, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. "That's lust talking," Yvonne said with a smile. "I haven't been beautiful for more years than I care to remember. Besides, most blokes think every woman is beautiful when they've just slept with her." "No, you've got it the wrong way round," He said with a smile. "It's immediately after they've slept with her that reality tends to set in. If a woman isn't beautiful before you sleep with her, then she certainly won't be afterwards." "Was Karen?" Yvonne found herself asking. "Yes, she was," John said fondly. "But then you know that." "It's different," Yvonne told him. "There's something so special about sleeping with a woman, that you just can't get with a bloke, no matter how good he is," She said, smiling at him. "You really miss her, don't you?" He said, seeing a brief flash of intense longing in her eyes. "Some days more than others, but yeah. That ended before it'd really had chance to get going. But then, we both know why it did end, don't we?" Her statement was said in the same afterglow tone of voice, but he could feel an underlying intensity that ought to have given him warning of something a little more sinister. "I know it was partly to do with Lauren," He said carefully. "Oh, that's funny," Yvonne said quietly. "Because I thought it was you who managed to get the identity of Fenner's killer out of her. You, Jo and George." John stayed perfectly still, just managing to school his face into its typically blank expression. Just what had he walked into? "What makes you say that?" He asked, wondering how in hell's name she'd worked it out. "All you will be doing by telling me," Yvonne tried to reassure him. "Is confirming what I've thought for a long time. Karen put an end to our relationship, on the afternoon of the day she'd had a session with the legal profession's answer to MI5. I doubt if I could have kept quiet under that sort of pressure, so Karen had no chance." "By giving you a direct answer to that question, Yvonne, I would be breaking my word, and we all promised Karen we wouldn't do that." "And by saying such a thing, you've done exactly that," Yvonne replied with a lopsided smile. "But I take your point." "You weren't there, Yvonne," He persisted. "George really did think Karen had killed him. I knew she hadn't, and Jo was somewhere in between. We had to know." "I know," Yvonne said, seeing that she had well and truly thrown him by doing this. "Yvonne," He continued, desperate to make her see how serious this was. "She thought you would want her dead." "I know that an' all," Yvonne said bleakly. "Karen could never quite accept that I'm no longer the person I was before Larkhall. I don't blame her really, with what happened with Lauren, but it didn't make it any easier. Karen was, is, the most precious thing that ever happened to me, and I would never want any harm to come to her, no matter what she did." "To give Karen her due," John said gently, seeing such strength of feeling in Yvonne, that he knew Karen would always be perfectly safe where she was concerned. "She didn't give up without a fight. I'm used to seeing George as furious as she was that day, but I'm not used to seeing anyone match her as well as Karen did. She gave George just as good as she got, and only began to crack when George began questioning your involvement. George thought that if Karen hadn't killed Fenner, you might have done, because of what Fenner did to her." "Well, she wasn't far wrong," Yvonne said ruefully. "I did consider it, briefly, but not even for Karen was I prepared to go back inside." They lay there for a while, just taking in everything that had been said. "Karen mustn't know that you know," John said eventually. "No, she won't. She feels guilty enough as it is for being with George, so I'm not about to make it worse."
A while later, when they'd had a gloriously sensual shower together, they went downstairs, to find Trigger and Mimi happily ensconced in the lounge, playfully fighting over a knotted rope, one of Trigger's favourite toys. He was lying on his front, with the rope draped across his front paws, softly nosing Mimi away whenever she tried to steal it. "Are you hungry?" Yvonne asked, prompting an immediate reaction from Trigger, though the question had been meant for John. "After that incredible bit of exercise," He said with a smile. "I certainly am." Smirking at the compliment, Yvonne moved into the kitchen and began rummaging in the fridge, emerging with a couple of fillet steaks, that she'd taken out of the freezer to defrost before going to Larkhall. As she peeled and then began sautéing some potatoes to go with the steak, John made himself useful by chopping some salad, and pouring them both a glass of the red wine which had been given ample breathing time. "So, if I swim every day," Yvonne said, throwing some herbs into the frying pan. "What do you do to keep that extremely good body in shape?" "I fence," John replied, taking a sip of the wine, which he had to admit would be a very good accompaniment to the steak. "You what?" Yvonne looked round at him in surprise. "I fence," He repeated. Yvonne looked at him assessingly. "Yeah, I could see you with a sword, jousting at dawn over some woman." John laughed. "It has been known," He said, thinking of the numerous occasions he'd fenced with Row Colmore, more often than not over Jo. "Though never at dawn." "Boys and their toys," Yvonne said in faint amusement. "How was Denny when you saw her this afternoon?" John asked, as he watched Yvonne put the steaks under the grill. "Not brilliant," Yvonne said despondently. "She's started taking drugs again." "Oh, I'm sorry," John said in sympathy. "Well, drugs can be an occupational hazard when you're inside," Yvonne said matter-of-factly. "But Denny going back on them after all this time isn't a good sign." "I saw her a couple of weeks ago," John enlightened. Then, at Yvonne's raised eyebrow, he clarified. "I dropped in to see Karen about something, and I was fairly forcefully put in my place by Denny." Yvonne couldn't help smiling. "What did she say?" She asked, hoping it wasn't something too outrageous. "A lot of things, but ending with the assertion that just because I hadn't committed a crime, didn't mean I knew everything about how to survive." "That sounds like my Denny," Yvonne said fondly, showing John in those few precious words, just how much Denny meant to her. "It was on Valentine's Day, and I don't think she was very happy." "No, she wouldn't have been. Valentine's Day used to get most of us like that. There'd be a few of the girls who'd get flowers or cards sent in, which kind of hammered it home to the rest of us that we didn't. I'm surprised Karen let you anywhere near the wing on that day of all days. The Julies must be losing their touch if you got away completely unscathed."
As they ate, Yvonne filled him in on some of the slightly scurrilous stories from her days in Larkhall. "Were drugs ever a problem for you?" He found himself asking, his curiosity continually peaked by the brief insight he was being given of that other world. "No," Yvonne said firmly. "Never. I might have got the odd miniature of scotch smuggled in here and there, but that was it." Trigger came up to Yvonne, and sat next to her chair, gazing up at her with the saddest, most doleful eyes he could muster. "Sod off," Yvonne said smartly, flicking him on the end of his nose. "Lauren might feed you from the table, but you know I don't." As Trigger slunk away into the lounge with his tail between his legs, Mimi followed him. "I think Mimi's a little awestruck with him," John said with a smile. "Where did you get her?" Yvonne asked, pouring them both another glass of wine. "My daughter likes to push my patience to the limit, by illegally rescuing dogs from research laboratories. You would think that with both her mother and father working in the legal profession, she might know better, but not so far." John might be casting doubt on his daughter's dubious activities, but Yvonne could see that deep in his heart, he was proud of her. "I can't picture George having a kid," Yvonne said contemplatively. John looked up surprised. "George told us all that she was your ex, on the first day of the trial," Yvonne filled in. "George couldn't picture herself with a child for quite a long time," He said, wondering just how this woman seemed to drag confidences out of him, almost by telepathy. "I know you obviously still see her through what you both do, but what about outside court?" "It's complicated," He replied slowly, and she could see that this was a bit of a forbidden topic. As they finished eating, and put the plates in the dishwasher, they tried to talk about anything that wasn't either George or Karen related. Yvonne badly didn't want him to go, for once in her life thoroughly enjoying having a man in her house again, but she did her best not to let it show. Walking into the lounge, they found Trigger, sprawled contentedly in his basket, with Mimi curled up against him. "She's changed her tune since this morning," Yvonne said with a smile. "Do you mind if I take a picture? That's just too good to miss." "Be my guest," John replied, seeing that Mimi was completely ignoring him, in favour of her new canine friend. When Yvonne returned with her camera, she took a couple of snaps, both dogs seeming to pose with all the natural charm of someone well used to the pointing of the lens. "I'd better go," John said regretfully. "Just one thing," Yvonne said, looking him straight in the eye. "Don't feel guilty about this. We both know it ain't going to happen again, so what Jo doesn't know, won't hurt her." With a surge of gratitude at her understanding and sensitivity, he instinctively put out his arms and drew her to him. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world," He said, gently kissing her. "No, me neither," She replied, kissing him back. As she stood at the front door, with Trigger at her side, the two of them watching John back out of the drive, Yvonne vowed to hold onto the memory of that afternoon, to treasure it somewhere safe, because men, or women, like him, were one in a million, and might not be likely to look her way again for some time to come.