Epitaph Read Free

slipped a hair band around her hair, pulling it into a ponytail.
    ‘Are you getting dressed?’ she enquired, looking at her naked companion who was now sitting on the edge of the bed.
    ‘You can’t leave me like this,’ he said, raising his eyebrows and indicating his erection with one index finger.
    Gina hesitated for a moment then dropped slowly to her knees between his legs.
    ‘I told you,’ he grinned. ‘It won’t take long. I promise.’
    She dipped her head, closing her mouth around the tip of his erection, her tongue sliding across the sensitive glans. The carpet felt rough beneath her bare knees but she ignored it and concentrated on the stiffness in her mouth. She massaged his testicles gently as she slid her head up and down his shaft, hearing his breathing grow more laboured. After a moment or two, he bucked his hips upwards to match her movements. She felt one of his hands on the back of her head, keeping her in position as he neared his peak.
    He groaned in appreciation
.
    ‘I told you it wouldn’t take long,’ he gasped.
    He was true to his word. Gina felt his penis throb in her mouth and she kept her lips fastened around it as he climaxed, his thick fluid filling her mouth. She swallowed it quickly then straightened up, glancing back at him lying naked on the bed, his organ softening after his release.
    ‘That’s better,’ he grinned, his eyes still closed.
    She pulled on her jeans, stepped into her shoes and headed for the door.
    ‘If you’re still horny tonight your husband can take care ofyou, can’t he?’ he called to her and she thought that she heard a note of sarcasm in his voice. She paused and looked evenly at him.
    ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow,’ he added, stepping through into the bathroom. She heard the shower sputter into life.
    Gina dug in her pocket for her front-door keys and checked her watch once more. As long as the bus came on time, she should be home in twenty minutes.
    Across the street, hidden by the shadows of the doorway in which it stood, the figure that had been watching her since she arrived at the hotel now watched her leave.

4
     
    In all of his thirty-six years on the planet, Paul Crane had never felt the sense of helplessness he now experienced as he sat at his kitchen table.
    Combined with a growing feeling of anger and desperation, it closed around him like an invisible vice, tightening with every passing moment. Perhaps, he told himself, he’d had it too easy in his life up until this point. Maybe that was why this current chain of events had hit him so much harder than he’d expected. But, as he considered his situation, he knew that wasn’t true. He’d worked hard for everything he had. None of what he’d achieved had been down to luck; it had been down to sheer bloody hard work and, now, all that counted for nothing.
    With no job he knew that he would lose everything that mattered to him. His home. His way of life and, even more cripplingly, his self-belief and confidence. He had no savings to fall back on. He’d never been one to plan ahead and make provision for such shattering eventualities.
    He earned money and he spent it. It was as simple as that. He bought the best clothes, the finest wines and when he ate out he did so at the best restaurants. He always paid top price for theatre, concert or event tickets and, when he took holidays, he never considered travelling any other way but first class and enjoying his breaks in nothing less than five-star hotels. The money had always been there. That was why he worked, to ensure that he could afford the best that life offered. He’d never envisaged the day when all that would change so why, he wondered, should he have seen it coming? He was good at his job. Well liked by his colleagues and those he dealt with. There was never any reason why he should have suspected that when job cuts were made at his firm he should be one of those who was so simply and easily discarded.
    And that was where the