Killing off Joy was a bit of a nuisance, which is why she lived in this fic, and I am ignoring the case that she died in, altogether. She is a total opposite to Jean so, although I didn't state where this story is set in the timeline of DBM, let's go for sometime before Adelaide onwards, but after the Dennison case, and Mei Lin never happened!
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The day passed as any other. Lucien spent the morning finishing the paperwork for an autopsy, ready to be included in the court papers. Three copies of the final report he threw in the bin because he was so distracted with his memory of the previous night he made silly errors. He drove home for lunch and the afternoon surgery. He sat in the car on the drive for several minutes, thinking. She had said nothing that morning above the normal pleasantries and he had left saying he would be back for lunch.
He was roused from his thoughts by a tap on the window. Jean was looking at him with a puzzled expression on her sweet features. He couldn't think of her face without adding in some adjectives to describe it. He wound the window down,
'Yes, Jean?' He asked, almost coldly, it was the only way he could get through any time in her presence.
'Do you want me to bring your lunch out here, doctor?' She asked, politely, 'because if you do I could have given it to you to take to the morgue this morning.' She stood and folded her arms across her, oh so neat, breasts.
'Sorry, Jean.' He wound the window back up and followed her into the house, trying to keep his mind off her swaying hips.
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Lunch, an almost silent meal, over, Jean washed the pots and he dried. She knew he wanted to say something but, as usual, was struggling to find the right words. She couldn't help him, there, because she knew he wanted to apologise. Trouble was, she didn't want an apology.
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A few hours previous:
Jean watched him leave for the station and his paperwork and smiled. When she had risen that morning she had headed straight for the bathroom to look at herself. There were marks over her body she had never had before. She touched the beard rash, circled her reddened nipples with her finger smiling at the memory of his sucking at her. She had love bites on her collarbone that would mean she would have to be careful how she dressed today, perhaps a sweater would do. She had run a bath and slipped into the water briefly realising she was a little sore, but the water was soothing and she knew it would wear off. If it didn't, well maybe she would have to consult a doctor!
She had daydreamed as she went about her chores. Would he want her again, take her like a raging bull? Or would he be embarrassed, apologetic, or, heaven help her, horrified at her willingness to let him have her. The trouble for her was that Christopher had never, ever done anything like that to her, and quite frankly, she wanted more. And she was not going to confess, either.
When she had heard the car pull onto the drive she had waited for him to come into the house. When he didn't she looked out of the door and saw him sit there, obviously deep in thought, and she knew what about.
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Lucien sat in his surgery, still at a loss what to say or do. Jean acted as if were completely normal to be ravished by one's employer. He managed to collect his thoughts enough to deal with his patients and was rather grateful that the perceptive Agnes Clasby did not have an appointment that day.
Jean brought his tea in as normal, as asked if there was anything else he wanted, as usual. Damn the woman, why did she not say something? He looked up, she didn't have that bloody apron on. Every curve showed through the sweater and slim, straight skirt she was wearing. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? She knew just how to stand to show how beautiful she was.
She turned to go.
'Jean,' he heard his own voice, 'please,' he indicated she sit down opposite him, 'we need to talk.'
She sat and looked innocently at him, she knew she was making him squirm but she knew now she had to stop that and talk, otherwise both of them would go around feeling uncomfortable, possibly avoiding each other. He needed to know she had enjoyed every single moment of what they had done, but she also needed to know how he felt, apart from supremely embarrassed.
'Yes, doctor.' She shifted in her hair, realising she was still a little uncomfortable.
'Are you alright?' He pulled his brows together.
'Perfectly,' she smiled, 'you were saying.'
'Er, yes,' he hesitated, 'about last night...'
'What about last night, doctor?' she asked sweetly.
Lucien Blake went bright red, and Jean had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud.
'Jean...' he watched her stand up and move round to his side of the desk. He swallowed, hard.
As she stood and looked down at him he could smell her sweet perfume, light and floral.
'Lucien...' she rarely used his first name, 'it's alright.' A whisper.
He stood up, 'Really?' his voice was equally quiet.
'Really.' She kissed his cheek.
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Life went back to normal, they spoke as if nothing had happened but were easier with each other. Having Mattie and Charlie around meant that they couldn't even think about it happening again.
Jean surreptitiously checked the calendar for their lodgers' rosters and saw that Mattie had noted she would be going to Melbourne to see her parents to celebrate their wedding anniversary in a couple of weeks and Charlie had agreed to escort her to the evening dinner. He booked a week's leave so he could see some old friends and his mother at the same time. Jean checked her diary, that worked out nicely for her too! Well, probably, her cycle had never been regular. Just her and the doctor in the house.
Lucien was also wondering if they would ever have any time to themselves. Much as he enjoyed the young couple's company, he'd quite like to spend some time with his housekeeper alone. Even their evenings were chaperoned.
They didn't even get the chance to kiss in passing.
Mattie had gone to bed early one night, with a headache and Charlie was on a night shift. Jean had put her knitting away and Lucien offered her a second sherry as he poured himself another whisky.
'Lovely, thank you.' She smiled up at him and invited him to sit with her. He sat not too close. They drank in silence, then the doctor took her glass off her and moved a little closer, hoping he'd got this right. She smiled at him and he leant in to kiss her noting she parted her lips as he did so. His lips had barely touched hers when they heard footsteps on the stairs and he pulled away and shifted up the couch, picking up a book on the end table.
'Just wanted a drink.' Mattie said, not even looking their way.
'Right,' 'Ok'.
'Night,' Mattie called.
'Goodnight, Mattie,' they said, almost together.
'Damn!' Lucien said.
'There's always the studio,' she suggested, quietly, looking at him from under her lashes.
'True.' He admitted, moving back to the spot he had so hurriedly left.
'Perhaps next time. I'll light the fire.' She whispered as he moved to finish the aborted kiss.
'Mm, you do that.' But she did not reply because his mouth was covering hers, his tongue silencing any words she might have.
She put her hands round the back of his neck, running her fingers through his hair, disrupting the neat, professional styling, then, as they broke the kiss and he put his forehead against hers she slipped the fingers of one hand between his buttons and deftly undid enough to slide her hand inside his shirt and draw little circles with her finger just below his collarbone.
His hand did similar to her, slipping his hand up and inside her sweater round her back to unfasten her bra, giving him access to cup and caress her breast. They both knew that to go much further would be dangerous but a little further he hoped. Her raised nipple excited him, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He drew his hand out and slipped it under her skirt finding her panties, and slipped a finger inside them.
'Lucien,' she gasped as he moved that finger then another against her, finding the most sensitive part, she was ready, moist heat against the rhythmic movement of his fingers. She put her hand down, god, he was hard! She unzipped his trousers and pulled him free of his shorts. It was no good they couldn't stop. He took his fingers away and reached up to pull her panties off and out from under her skirt that she hitched up so she could straddle him. As she guided him in their was the brief thought that Mattie may come down again but it was too late for that. He pushed up and into her and she slid down him and rode him until neither could hold off any longer and they came together. He grabbed her waist to stop her falling as she arched her back and bit her lip to prevent the cry of ecstasy that threatened to fill her throat.
'Bloody hell, Jean.' He gasped, where was the prim woman who had railed against him when he made the colossal mistakes in the early days? He preferred this one, and oddly found it was more than lust, he was in love with her, deeply, madly in love with her. She satisfied a need in him he had long since felt would never be appeased again.
'Shh.' She leant against his chest, breathing hard. Then she giggled, softly.
'What's so funny?' He asked.
'Us.' Jean sat back up and slid off him. 'Acting like randy teenagers when the parents are out.'
He pulled his shorts back over his manhood, and zipped his trousers up.
'I'd better go to bed,' she murmured, almost sadly, 'my bed.' She clarified when she saw the brief look of hope in his eyes.
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She lay in her bed thinking about him. What had started out as pure unadulterated lust, a desperate need to be with a man after so long, had changed for her. She was surprised that she knew what she was doing given that Christopher was a less than adventurous lover. She decided that she actually rather liked the doctor, well more than liked, she loved, yes, she loved him, and probably had done for a long time. But up until the other night and tonight he had been out of reach for a humble farmer's widow and the prim, almost cold show she had put on for him had been her way of not getting hurt.
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He lay looking up at the ceiling. Up until the other night she had been so out of reach, so prim, officious, and so darned sexy. Randy teenagers, she'd said, and she was right. But he hadn't had anyone since he lost Mei Lin, no one had enticed him the way she had, from the very moment he had set eyes on her. Women he had wined and dined had not excited him enough that he couldn't control himself and behave like the perfect gentleman. He left some disappointed women behind, including Joy, but she would just have taken what she wanted and given him nothing. Jean gave him everything. When he was inside her he felt complete, he could feel her need was more than wantonness, it was a total act of giving as much as she received.
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No opportunities presented themselves so they had to do with a furtive kiss in the surgery when she took him his tea. Both waiting until Mattie and Charlie were out of the way. She had determined that during that week she would see if she could share his bed, he'd kept suggesting it but she said that was impossible, they took enough risks with their reputations as it was.
One evening when he thought they could get away with a bit of heavy petting she pushed his hand away. It surprised him, and it showed.
'Sorry, darling, not tonight,' She blushed, it was not for her employer to know certain things about his female employees.
'Right, er, sorry.' He reddened a little too, so she patted his cheek,
'You can still kiss me, though, if you'd like to.' She smiled.
'I'd like that very much, Jean.' almost old fashioned acceptance of her permission.
She was a little earlier than expected, but better than being late, she thought, not that that would happen, not at her age! She and Christopher had tried for more, but it never happened. So she contented herself with loving her two boys.
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She drove Mattie and Charlie to the station to catch their train, then went into Ballarat to do some shopping. How she managed to keep the skip out of her step and the smile off her face these days she didn't know. She'd tried one day slipping a tiny piece of grit into her shoe, but all that did was make her foot sore. She knew what people said about her and the doctor and even though it was now true she wasn't going to let that show. Anyway, she knew she wasn't the only single woman in Ballarat that got up to what was referred to as 'hanky-panky'. She did her best to keep a bland expression on her face as she went about her business, and it seemed to work.
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They ate dinner as if nothing had changed, he helped her wash up and then went to pour their evening drinks. She took out her knitting, sipped her sherry, he read the paper and tried to do the crossword, ignoring his whisky.
'Jean?' he spoke across the room, 'what's another word for 'pepper, red, green and yellow?' clue in the crossword. I should know, shouldn't I?'
'Let me see, have you got any letters in it?' She looked up and put her knitting down.
'Third letter's 'p',' he sauntered across the room and sat next to her.
'Capsicum', she supplied. 'Honestly, I thought you'd have known that.'
'I was distracted.' He smiled.
'Really.' She looked at him with mock seriousness.
'Mm, your knitting needles.' he was closer now, about to nibble her earlobe.
'Well, what else would you like me to do with my hands?' She asked a decidedly cheeky look on her face.
He took them in his, 'They're cold.' He rubbed them with his.
'Perhaps I'd better warm them by the fire,' she murmured, '...in the studio.' She stood up and stood in front of him, 'Why don't you lock up and join me?' She whispered, sexily.
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She was sitting in a chair next to the fire, her sherry glass refilled and dangling idly from her fingers. His whisky was by the other chair, the firelight dancing through the amber liquid. He sat opposite her and watched her, and sipped his whisky. She was perfectly composed, relaxed, gazing into the firelight a slight smile on her perfect mouth, the mouth he wanted to cover with his. She had taken her shoes off and he noticed for the first time what small feet she had, each toe nail neatly shaped and shining with, what he supposed was some clear polish. She wore no stockings strangely; the weather was not that warm.
'Shall I put on some music?' He asked, casually.
'That would be lovely,' she agreed, smiling slightly at him.
He selected a record and put it on, turning the volume low. It wasn't something she knew, a soft piano piece. He came and stood by her chair and extended his hand,
'Dance with me, Jean.'
She took the offered hand and allowed him to take her in his arms and they swayed to the music. He pulled her close but she felt no sign of his arousal, his breathing was steady, rhythmic as if he was keeping control. She liked that, they were alone, no frantic coupling tonight, they could take their time. He bent down and kissed her softly, as he did she parted her lips letting him lick at them and nip her lower lip, telling her he wanted more. She let his tongue in and he tasted the sweetness of the sherry she had drunk, explored her perfect teeth with it. She could taste the sharpness of his drink and it almost made her drunk with desire for him.
His hands strayed down to her bottom and he pushed his fingers against the fabric of her skirt and felt her move her legs slightly apart. She felt the stirring of his desire against her belly and sighed, moving her hands to undo the buttons of his shirt slipping it over his shoulders and letting in fall to the floor.
'Your turn,' she whispered, and he moved his hands back to undo the few buttons on her white blouse, so crisp and almost pure. Lifting the garment off her he too let that fall to the floor and then he moved to slide the zip of her skirt down letting it fall in folds on the floor round her pretty ankles. She moved to the zip of his trouser and pushed them down, they were even now, both in their underwear, still swaying to the music. She lifted his singlet off him and let it drip from her hand onto the floor to join his shirt and trousers. He did the same with her slip and while she leant against him, planting little kisses on his chest he unclipped her bra and it too fell to the floor. He lifted her out of the ring of her skirt and neatly stepped out of his trousers, using his toes to free his feet of his socks. He carried her to the rug in front of the fire and placed her gently on her feet. They kissed, a long deep passionate kiss and ran their hands up and down each other's bodies, he pushing her panties down and she slipping her hands inside his shorts and freeing his erection. He put his hand between her legs, feeling her to be luscious and warm, he slipped fingers inside her, making her gasp with pleasure, but he wouldn't let her come just yet.
She traced her finger up his erection feeling his moist tip, he bit his lip to keep control, he was so hard in her hands. They went down slowly onto their knees and Lucien lowered her onto her back, supporting her head with his hand. She raised her knees either side of him and guided him in again, not that he needed a guide, but she liked to keep control just that little longer. He entered her, putting his full length inside her, then moving slowly, balanced on his hands looking into her eyes. She began to move with him arching up to him then putting her heels on his back and pulling him down to her, pushing herself against him. Faster and harder he thrust into her until she screamed his name as she climaxed and she felt his release inside her, he thrust again and again, she couldn't believe her could keep going, and she came again, gripping handfuls of his buttocks in pure pleasure. He rested on his elbows, still inside her and leant to kiss her, she moved her hands up his back and held his head as they kissed and skilfully moved her leg to unbalance him and roll him onto his back, keeping him inside her.
He looked at her and smiled and she did a little hip movement that made him harden again, seventeen years of abstinence had given him reserves of lovemaking even he didn't think possible. She did the movement again, and he knew he was ready for her to take her turn.
She started to slide up and down his measure, a little at first, enticing, then more , all the while looking down on him, a wicked glint in her now vivid blue eyes. He pushed up into her, his hands on her tiny waist pulling her down letting her grind into him to find that spot. He felt her tighten around him as she came, throwing her head back and groaning in sheer ecstasy. He let go, grunting as he did so, now spent. She lay down on his chest, breathing hard, exhausted, years of wondering what it would be like, to be properly made love to, realised with this bear of a man.
He traced his finger down her spine. Definitely worth the wait, and as he thought about what could be between them he also knew that of all the ways he could take her, they would always make love this way, because he had to look upon her beautiful face as they took each other through the universe.
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She woke curled up next to something warm and smiled. However, comfortable as she was she had to get up, the days wouldn't change, surgery, autopsies, cleaning, cooking but the nights, the nights for this week were theirs. She stretched, feeling stiff. A warm bath would sort that out she thought and, trying her best not to wake her lover, she slipped out of the bed and headed to the bathroom, without bothering with a robe.
As she waited for the bath to fill she cleaned her teeth and looked for marks she would have to cover. This time he had been careful where he marked her and she would be able to wear a blouse instead of a sweater. She noticed bruises between her legs and smiled to herself as she thought of him thrusting so hard into her he would bruise her.
She lay in the bath, a luxury she could not afford when everyone was home, but now she indulged herself. Feeling her muscles relax she mentally went through what she had to do that day. The studio would need tidying, some laundry and a quick flick round with a duster. She had done a thorough clean before Mattie and Charlie went away and could get away with a light clean for a couple of days. Surgery was scheduled for the afternoon and he would likely be down at the station for the morning, or not, but she could always find him something to do around the house or garden.
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Lucien lay in the bed still able to smell her on the pillow, her scent filled him with delight. He wondered what the week had in store. Hopefully not much in the way of police surgeon duties, with any luck, but surgery as usual and just being around her without having to guard against being caught touching or kissing. He guessed she wouldn't allow fooling around during the day.
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So what will Jean allow during the days while they have the house to herself? And will Mattie or Charlie notice any difference when they return.