Sleeping With The Frenemy Part 2

Deborah smiled down at the twins, and when Patty glanced up and waved up at her, she did the same. She always enjoyed her talks with the sweet girl about books and school, loving the advice she gave Patty on her studies.

Whistling softly, Deborah walked down the stairs and turned down the other hallway to go into the library. There she would find a few more books to give Patty the next time she came to clean the pool.

A small pile of hardcover books sat on a desk. Her eyes brightened upon picking up a copy of work by the poet e.e. c.u.mmings she'd read when she was in high school. She was so involved in reading she barely heard the library door close.

Deborah turned when she felt she was no longer alone in the room and glanced up at Genevieve, who wore her white satin robe tied with a matching sash around her waist. Deborah curled her toes in the rug as Genevieve walked over wearing her white slippers that showed off her red-painted toes.

"h.e.l.lo, Mrs. Murnay. You look well this wonderful Monday morning." Deborah flashed a grin as she closed the book.

"When I first woke up this morning, I thought the same," Gen said softly and sauntered over to the other side of the desk. She tapped one of the books, then rested her hand on top of a silver paperweight shaped like a globe.

Deborah took a step back, holding a book up against her chest. "Is something wrong?"

"Why would you think anything is wrong? Do I look upset?" Gen asked calmly and lifted up the paperweight.

"I don't know, it's just that you look...displeased. Did you hear bad news?" Deborah asked carefully. Goose b.u.mps rose on her arms and the temperature in the room suddenly dropped.

Genevieve snorted and her lips twisted in a very ugly way. "Displeased? Why would you think that? As for news, I've heard you have a new friend and failed to inform me of the fact."

"Fr-friend? I don't know what you're-"

"Yes, a fr-friend, Debbie." Gen p.r.o.nounced her name with such venom in her voice that Deborah backed away.

"Um, who do you mean? You know everyone I-"

"Just shut up for a moment and cease your stuttering," Gen barked, moving the paperweight back in forth in her hands.

Oh please, don't... Deborah's stomach turned and she was almost up against one of the stacks when Gen released a loud laugh.

"Imagine my surprise when that twit Patty told me how you lend her books from my library, very expensive first-edition copies, and how you two had more than a few friendly chats together. Why, even allowing her inside our home, where you both were enclosed in this room for almost a half hour at a given time."

"Gen, nothing happened other than Patty borrowing the books. What's the harm?" Deborah asked softly, trying to keep the tremors out of her voice.

"The harm?" Gen bellowed, causing Deborah to flinch. "Are you that stupid or don't care what we have? I know you want to f.u.c.k the little airheaded s.l.u.t and probably have right under my nose!"

"That's not true at all! You're jealous-"

Gen screamed and the paperweight flew at Deborah's head.

Deborah ducked, but nearly not fast enough, and the rotund missile struck her on the side of her head. She cried out, pressing her palm over where she was. .h.i.t, when Gen rushed over and backhanded her across the face. Deborah went down, falling against one of the stacks, causing books to tumble on top of her. She held up her hands to try to cover her face. She landed on her side and rolled into a ball as Gen grabbed hold of her by the hair and slapped her again.

"You little tramp! After all I've given you. How dare you go behind my back and f.u.c.k another c.u.n.t!" Gen screamed like a banshee and rained punches down on Deborah's head.

Deborah moaned and sobbed, trying to talk through her tears, but couldn't find the words, her lips numb as Genevieve continued to hit her. And when Genevieve punched her low in her stomach, Deborah gasped over the loss of air and hacked deep in her throat as she choked.

She continued to sob softly as Genevieve's rage finally died down. Her harsh, painful gasps filled the room and she flinched when a glob of something wet dripped down her cheek. Genevieve had spit on her.

Stop. No more, Deborah mouthed around her arms that were covering her head, and kept her eyes shut as she heard Genevieve rise to her feet. Gen stood over her, her breathing coming through very clear as Deborah waited for the next attack.

"I've decided to cancel our yoga cla.s.s and instead will go into town for a ma.s.sage. You will clean up the mess in here and in our bedroom without the aid of Teresa. I expect those rooms to be neat and orderly by the time I return. Do you understand?" Gen asked in a very soft voice.

Deborah nodded and whimpered "yes" in response to her wife's orders.

"Good. Now get off the floor. It's embarra.s.sing. You always overreact when we have one of our arguments," Genevieve said in disgust, and as Deborah slowly lifted up on her shaking elbows, Gen opened the door and left.

Sometime later, Deborah sat up and stared at the open doorway. After she heard the distant clicking of heels on the marble floor, some muted conversation, then the sound of a car driving away, she rose to her feet. She went over the leather desk chair and slowly lowered her aching body in the seat, holding her head in her hands as the room spun around her.

She wiped her wet eyes. The side of her hand came away with blood. When she fingered her bottom lip, it stung and more blood covered her skin. Her stomach throbbed and the side of her head hurt.

At least Gen didn't sprain my wrist this time. Deborah rotated her left arm and stiffened from the soreness there. Last month when they had one of their "arguments," Gen grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her back to the point where her shoulder almost popped. Eight months before that, Gen stomped on her arm and Deborah had to wear an arm brace for a few months.

After the feeling of vertigo left, Deborah rose, her back cracking, making her almost fall to her knees. She bit her lip and swallowed a cry, walking slowly to the middle of the room and viewing all the destruction Gen had created.

"Mrs. Murnay, I'll clean up here. Go take a hot shower, and when you have washed up, I'll help you clean your room and make you brunch." Teresa stood in the doorway, twisting her hands together.

"Please don't, Teresa. If Genevieve finds out, we'll have another...argument and she may fire you," Deborah said, and when she went over to pick up the paperweight on the floor, she almost fell back down in pain.

"Senora, please, you'll hurt yourself." Teresa came over and took Deborah's arm.

Deborah's lips trembled and tears filled her eyes once again. "Perhaps I should take a shower first to loosen these stiff muscles of mine. Then if you have time, maybe you can help me straighten up in here and in the bedroom?"

"Of course. Mrs. Murnay doesn't have to know. If she's asks, I simply say no." Teresa patted her arm and led her out of the room.

"You're a good friend, Teresa. If not for you and Gilberto, I'm afraid I'd be..." Deborah broke off to keep her tears in check as she and Teresa climbed the stairs up to her room.

Teresa murmured soft, comforting words in her native language and made Deborah sit on the bed while she turned on the shower. When she came out with a big, fluffy towel, Deborah took off her pajamas, wincing as she wrapped the towel around her body and shuffled into the bathroom.

She dropped the towel and climbed into the large shower stall, the stream of hot water raining over her abused body. Shakes took over Deborah's body and she fell down to the tile floor, crying loudly and rocking, wis.h.i.+ng she was dead.

Chapter Four.

When Deborah finished her shower, she went through the motions of getting ready for when Genevieve returned from town. She was due to arrive shortly, or so she had been told by Teresa when Gilberto called to say they were on their way back.

She quickly finished putting on her makeup, although the cover-up didn't hide the small gash on the right side of her head that almost matched the older, faded scar above it she received last year when Genevieve had accused her of cheating with a neighbor. As she swiped on her coral-colored lipstick, her split bottom lip swelled and continued to lightly bleed even after she put pressure on it. For the next few days she'd be stuck on the property since Genevieve would never allow her to go out in public after an argument like this one.

Stepping gingerly into the walk-in closet, Deborah flinched as her muscles tightened and she wheezed from shortness of breath. Her clothes and shoes on the left, across from Genevieve's own wardrobe, were all lined up by color coordination to denote each day of the week. Yet another rule of Gen's. For each day she was to wear the color Gen had decided long ago for her. Every color of the rainbow was there except purple. Gen hated the color, while Deborah adored it. She hadn't worn the color since she married Gen.

How did I get to this? Deborah shook her head sadly as she put back on her rose pajama set, wis.h.i.+ng she could run to her mother and hide in her arms. But her mother lay dying, hours away, and only Gen could give her the permission to go see her.

Deborah glanced down at her fisted hands and relaxed them. She combed her fingers through her hair, wanting to smash something expensive of Gen's against the wall. Instead she took a calming breath, circling the bedroom Teresa had put back in order. After pacing for a few minutes, she finally left to eat something before Genevieve came back.

Her appet.i.te was lacking, but she'd try her best to eat. Already she was too thin-or fit, as Gen called her. Deborah longed to go back to the days when she could eat whatever she wanted, perfectly fine with having the extra weight on her frame, since she looked better with curves than none at all.

She made a quick stop at the library that was back to the way it was before their "argument." Always an argument, never a fight or a beating from Gen. Oh no, no-G.o.d forbid she confronted Gen and threatened to leave her again. This time she'd only leave the house in a body bag.

"Senora, please come out on the veranda. It's a beautiful day!" Teresa called out from the foyer, and when Deborah walked into the kitchen, Teresa took hold of her arm.

"Teresa, I'm not an invalid. I'll be all right. You know how Genevieve gets when she loses her temper," Deborah explained, trying to keep her voice light, as if she hadn't been beaten.

Teresa raised an eyebrow when Deborah smiled and winced from her bruised lip. They walked out on the patio and over to one of the tables facing the back of the property that had a perfect view of the mountains. Deborah sat and tilted her head back, breathing in the dry Nevada air, taking a moment to reflect how lucky she was to be alive.

If only Genevieve stopped hurting her, then all would be perfect.

Deborah's mouth trembled as she thought of her wife, who she did still love very much, but whom she could no longer stay with.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a sip, the strong dark taste filling her mouth as she planned in her head. Hopefully she'd be able to pull Gilberto aside at one point in the day, when Genevieve was indisposed. He was her only hope.

Deborah went still and stared straight ahead upon hearing Gen's voice behind her. This time she wouldn't jump up and welcome her with open arms as she did every day.

The clicking of Genevieve's heels on the pavement burned Deborah's ears as she waited for another eruption of rage to be directed at her. When Genevieve came to her side, Deborah didn't greet her, but instead tilted her head down to stare at her lap.

Genevieve's hand fell lightly on top of her hair and pulled through her strands, her touch oddly comforting. Deborah stopped from grabbing Gen's palm and laying it over her cheek.

Neither broke the silence. Deborah finally relented. "Did you finish your errands in town?"

Genevieve rested her chin on Deborah's shoulder, her arm coming around to hold her close. "Yes. My ma.s.sage was very relaxing and I bought a few items for the house, including a little something for you."

Deborah nodded slightly and pressed her lips together to stop from asking what that little something could be. Genevieve kissed her on the cheek and took hold of her hand. "Come with me and I'll show you what I bought."

Deborah left her uneaten bowl of oatmeal and blueberries, her weekday breakfast that never changed-another rule set by Genevieve-and allowed herself to be led back into the house. Gen had a soft, dazed look on her face, most likely from one too many b.l.o.o.d.y Marys or mimosas she drank at the day spa.

Both Teresa and Gilberto stood in the kitchen, and when Gen nodded in their direction, they did the same, watching them leave. Gen didn't say a word to her, not that Deborah cared. She didn't think she could hold a conversation at that moment, her whole body tense with anxiety at what Genevieve had bought her. She'd hope it wasn't another outlandish s.e.x toy used to invade her body as a form of love shared between them.

Tremors almost overtook her body, and when they reached their bedroom, Gen turned, her face full of worry and her eyes cloudy with torment.

"Oh dearling, I'm so ashamed about our argument we had this morning. You know how nervous I get right before the end-of-the-quarter meeting I have with my stockholders." Gen waved her hand as if the incidence was of no real consequence.

Deborah smile didn't reach her eyes. "I know full well how nervous you get. We all have our moments where things get the best of us."

Gen gave her a warm smile, and when she pulled her in close for a hug, Deborah went into her arms stiffly. She rested her head in the crook of Gen's shoulder and closed her eyes.

This would be one of the last hugs she received from this woman.

"I love you so much. Please forgive me for the way I overreacted. I know you would never do anything to hurt me intentionally," Gen whispered in an impa.s.sioned plea.

Like you've done to me time and again, to the point where I've wanted to kill myself? Deborah remained unyielding in Genevieve's arms.

Genevieve cupped Deborah's face and placed her lips over hers. Deborah waited for Gen's tongue to slither in, as was her usual custom when she kissed her, but instead she left her lips over her own. Tears from Genevieve's eyes fell and landed on Deborah's cheeks. A watery sigh escaped Genevieve and without stopping the kiss, she backed into the bedroom with Deborah in her arms.

When Genevieve finally released her, Deborah went to sit on the bed. Gen stopped her and lifted up a dark purple box. Deborah's eyes went wide, and when Genevieve held it out toward her, she took it.

"Just a little something from me to you...as an apology." Gen winced when she spoke the last word and tugged on her diamond earring.

"There's no need for you to apologize. It's all forgotten," Deborah said automatically and quickly opened the package. She covered her mouth upon seeing the risque purple and black lace negligee. "It's...gorgeous." I'll look like a prost.i.tute wearing this.

"Put it on," Genevieve ordered softly and Deborah took off her pajamas. When Deborah was naked, she glanced up at Gen's face. Gen's eyes sparkled as she licked her lips, her eyes zoning in on the belly chain.

Deborah lifted the velvet chemise over her head. She tugged the tight fabric down and sucked in her breath as it bunched around her hips. Finally she pulled it down over her thighs, but it rode up high, showing off the curve of her a.s.s.

Gen held up her hands to her face and laughed. "You're so beautiful! Turn around in a circle."

Deborah turned around a few times. When she finished her third rotation, Gen walked over and linked their fingers together. She backed her over to the oversized cream-colored chaise longue in the corner near the window and made her sit.

Gen whispered something Deborah couldn't catch as she knelt down and slid her palms up and down her legs. She lightly scratched the top of her thighs with her nails, and kissed her with more pa.s.sion than before.

Deborah fell back with Gen hovering over her on her palms, nipping and tugging on her lips. Deborah could barely find any enjoyment in the desperate kiss, and whimpered in pain as she tasted blood. Gen lifted her mouth and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Her eyes brightened and her tongue lapped gently over Deborah's mouth.

"My poor darling has a cut on her lip? I hate to see you in pain. Does my special girl want me to kiss her someplace else to make it all better?" Gen asked in a baby-sounding voice, and with a wicked smile, dropped her face down to Deborah's stomach.

"Yes, please," Deborah replied softly and stared up at the ceiling, lifting her arms over her head as Gen's breath washed over her p.u.s.s.y and thighs. And when Gen began to lick and suck her c.u.n.t, and her sharp nails dug into her legs, she bowed her back and willed her body to enjoy Gen's administrations. She instantly went wet since a tongue and mouth, regardless of it being Gen's, made her respond.

As Gen took her time eating away at Deborah's core, the sounds of her mouth slurping and sucking loudly, Deborah moaned and sighed at the same time-coming violently. Gen's mouth worked her over as Deborah thought out her plans: the plans she'd been making for a very long time to escape from this monster, who'd rather see her dead than allow her to leave alive.

Chapter Five.

All of Deborah's secret preparation over the past year would come to pa.s.s with Genevieve attending her stockholder meeting like she did twice a year. She'd end up staying overnight in Las Vegas, Friday to Sat.u.r.day, without Deborah by her side. Deborah wasn't needed since Genevieve didn't want her to mingle with the business men and women Genevieve controlled, much the same as she did with her wife.

As the sun rose on that Friday morning, Deborah made slow, tender love to Genevieve, knowing it would be the last time she'd ever kiss her, smell her, and feel her body against hers. No words were exchanged between the two. Deborah had no more to give. Genevieve's jealous rages had destroyed everything special between them.

Now she waited on the front steps after sharing empty goodbye kisses and fake promises and admissions of love from her that Genevieve was totally unaware about. Deborah kept her smile in place and waved as the limo left, taking Genevieve three hours away where as soon as she arrived at her destination, she'd call to check to make sure Deborah was there to receive her call.

She'd be in for quite the surprise. Deborah would be long gone, vanis.h.i.+ng into thin air where Genevieve would never find her.

Gilberto came up beside her, silent as the car turned the corner and rode away on the main road. Deborah finally released a sigh of relief, then looked at the dark, brawny man standing beside her.

"Were you able to get everything you needed for my trip into town today?" she asked him.

Gilberto nodded. "The doc.u.ments, including the directions you need, are in the backseat. Also the funds you gave me on Tuesday were put in a special account only you can access."

"And I can a.s.sume the funds I gave you and Teresa have been taken care of as well?" Deborah asked.

"Yes, ma'am. You'll be very pleased how everything has turned out."

Deborah smiled up at him and nodded. "Very well. Why don't you start the car while I go upstairs and get my purse? We can't be late for my spa treatment."

"Yes, Mrs. Murnay," Gilberto responded stiffly and Deborah walked back in the house where Teresa waited, wiping her eyes with a tissue. Deborah walked up to her and pressed a palm over the older woman's cheek. Both women stared at one another with tears in their eyes, and finally Deborah broke away and climbed up the steps.