The Courts Of Pleasure Ch. 08

What they like most of all is a woman who wants to be a nice girl but can't, or an innocent woman who doesn't know that she's a hot number until she's forced to find out for herself. If they had seen your Passion-Flower painting they wouldn't have had to see you in that shoe-store."

"God, Vivienne. It's too embarrassing." "The clerk, the store, the heels all of it has to be a sting," Vivienne exclaimed. "That's how they got on to you."

"Cliff had his mind made up to do it, and I had to go along with it. God knows where I would be today if we hadn't come here." Sarah gasped.

Vivienne leaned across the table and took Sarah's hand in hers. "So you see everything has worked out for the best."

"You're the best of all, Vi." Sarah stood and went to her easel. "When I came back just now from making love with you I had this urge to paint. I was ready to start just before you and Zack came in. I'm ready to go on now if you are."

"Love it. Shall I take my clothes off?"

"Later most likely. But for now I want to start right here." Sarah lifted her hand to Vivienne's neck and with her finger caressed the little hollow touched by her last kiss. "I think that can be arranged," Vivienne smiled.

Sarah made her preparations, selecting a small canvas and arranging her palette. She seated Vi before her and tilted her head. "Just tip your head like this and hold you hair free so I can see those succulent sexy curves that I find so nourishing."

Vivienne chuckled "Like this?"

"Yeah! Like that." Sarah worked quickly to capture the gesture, pausing from time to time to let Vivienne rest. She had learned to work rapidly in figure studies, painting alla-prima after the method of Sargent, with no drawing or underpainting. "There, I've nearly got it," she said at last as she laid the palette down and stood back from her canvas, wiping her brushes absently with a rag. Vivienne came to her. Silently she folded Sarah into her arms and studied this painting that bloomed before her like a glistening blossom. There was her hair, the arch of her neck and the tender hollow transformed into an exotic bloom. It was powerful like 'The Passion Flower' only where the it had been a bloom suggestive of a woman's sex, this was a woman's body suggestive of a flower. "Is that the way you see me?"

Sarah nodded and rubbed her cheek against Vivienne's. They were quiet for a moment and then they heard Cliff coming down the hall towards them.

"You're late," Sarah announced as he came into the room. "What happened?"

Cliff shook his head wearily. He slouched into the chair and threw a morose glance in her direction. "Fuck," he grunted.

"Did Zack call you?" Vi asked.

"Yeah," he stared out the window at Vivienne's cottage. "He met me and we ditched the Pontiac. He thinks the Slavers could trace it here. He took it this afternoon. God knows where it is now. Some garage somewhere I guess and then he brought me back here. He's got some scheme worked out to get me back and forth to work, it'll take for fucking ever. Bloody nuisance."

Sarah came to him, earnestness in her voice, "It's not just us, you know. It's The Court. Everyone!"

"I know." He went to the sideboard, poured himself a drink, settled back and looked out into the dusk gathering in The Court. "Cliff," Sarah began, "how did you know about that store, to ask for heels and all that."

He sighed. "You hear about these things. I checked it out with some guys at work and they said it was clean." He shook his head helplessly and lifted the Scotch to his mouth, the ice cubes rattled in the silence as he sipped. "We'll be okay here, Sarah. We'll just have to watch it for a while."

Sarah closed her eyes against the fear welling up within her, her dismay at their foolishness in feeding his erotic obsession. Was coming to The Court worth what she stood to lose now? But then this day with Vivienne returned to her with all its warmth and incredible intimacy and sharing.

Sarah cuddled in Vi's arms and clutched at the gush of hope within her, at the trust opening between them, at the anticipation of what might yet be discovered and come of this bonding.

She felt her raw fear ebbing when she looked at Cliff and a touch of understanding came to her. After all he wasn't to blame for what she was, he had only touched on the wellspring of her spirit, had merely tapped the energy that moved within her like a deep up-welling current striving for release. Before them the fresh canvas vibrated with her energy, with Vivienne's allure, and the mysterious commission.

*****