Chapter 11
Janice had disappeared into the bedroom of her hotel room, collapsing on the bed there, falling asleep at once. That had been hours ago, thought Charles, looking at his watch. She should awaken any minute. And then what would happen?
The door opened, and Janice came in. Her hair was disheveled and she wore no make up. Yet she looked more beautiful than ever, thought Charles. She took a step into the sitting room of her hotel suite, scared of Charles, knowing what he would think of her. She was bracing herself for the verbal barrage that was certain to flood from his mouth. He had seen her in the most degraded, vile of situations, and he had witnessed, too, her reactions. Janice brushed a tear from her eyes, then lowered them, afraid to look at the good, kind man who was to have been her husband. Now she doubted that union would ever take place.
Charles was the embodiment of decency, far above base temptation. Even though he had succumbed to Lisa's invitation, it had only happened one time, and men could be excused for that. But women.. . no, women shouldn't be forgiven for submitting to the excesses Janice had known.
"Janice . . . ? " His voice was soft.
She edged toward the wall, eyes carefully averting Charles', waiting for the scornful words she deserved. She glanced at him wondering, why was he acting like this? and she buried her face in her hands and wept. "Yes?"
He ambled across the room and took her hands in his. "It's okay, Janice. Everything's changed now."
"Oh, Charles, I'm so sorry, what can I say? I.. . " she stifled a sob. "I.. . I really love you." She sniffed. "I.. . I can understand if you don't want anything to do with me now. Oh, I can understand that.. . "
Charles stroked her hair softly. "I've never been good with words, Janice, but I want you to know those people did me a favor. I've been a bore . . . a real party-pooper my whole life. Never could have fun, always thought of what was proper and right."
"But what about what I did with those men . . . what about that?" she challenged.
"If I'd had the balls, I would have done it myself . . . years ago," Charles groaned.
Janice's blue eyes opened wide. "Charles, you mean you wanted to . . . to do it to me?"
'That's right, Janice. I've wanted to fuck you for years, but there was mother and the family name to think about. But what do you say, my lady, would you like to make up for lost time?"
"Oh, Charles!"
Charles pushed her back towards the sofa. With two eager hands, he pulled off the robe she wore and touched for the first time the soft, pliant mounds of her firm breasts.