Love And Lust Pt 05

Author's Note: I wanted to let any reader's know that this story will have lulls between sex scenes. For me, I enjoy well-developed characters and an organic growth to the stories, and writing this story is giving me a chance to learn how to do this. I sincerely thank those that have read and left constructive comments. This is a learning process and a way for me to explore my thoughts and fantasies. Thank you.

Deacon's text read: I hope you had a good vacation cause we have work to do. PI has 4 Js that he wants happy. I know we had our differences, but we always been straight with each other. I coulda burned you in Miami, but I din't. Now I need you to return the favor. I know you been puttin me off. No more ignorin me. You need to recruit some help. Start with your girl, she pretty. And young. You help me and I keep your name from PI. You stay free and help me stay free. Time runnin out. Don't make me go to PI, I don't want to do that. But you forcin me to go there.

Brooklyn dropped the phone to the bed, her heart beating hard against her chest. The text she'd read from Deacon was the latest, but there were several older texts, too. All with about the same content, all unanswered by Jennifer. It was obvious he was becoming more and more desperate, but Jennifer seemed content to ignore the problem, like it was just going to go away if she stuck her head in the sand.

Eventually Jennifer stirred against her side, the feel of Jennifer's skin next to hers made filled her pleasure. It was rare that Jennifer curled up into her side, Brooklyn thought to herself. The more submissive placement tended to fall more naturally to her. But she found she liked it, being able to feel protective of this girl she was falling in love with.

Brooklyn felt Jennifer squirm and wriggle around as her girlfriend removed the strap on and then pushed it off the bed. It fell to the carpeted floor with a light thump. "That feels better," Jennifer sighed, curling back into Brooklyn's side.

"Jen," Brooklyn said softly.

"Hmm," Jennifer sounded through closed lips.

"I read Deacon's text. I think we need to talk."

Jennifer sat up abruptly, her breasts prominently displayed in the low light. "Fuck Brooklyn, why would you invade my privacy like that?"

Brooklyn reeled at the rebuke, but she instantly felt that stubborn fire come to life that dwelled in her gut. "I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have," Brooklyn acknowledged. "But get over that. This is bleeding serious. You can't keep ignoring him."

Jennifer looked like she was going to strike back, but before she let her words fly, she seemed to deflate. She exhaled loudly and leaned back against the wall. "I know," she said, her words resigned and filled with hopelessness.

It made Brooklyn's heart ache for her girlfriend, and at the same time she felt fear growing inside, making her limbs feel weak and heavy. "The police really aren't an option?"

Jennifer's eyes turned fiercely to Brooklyn's, "Absolutely not!" she hissed, "you don't know how ignorant a thing to say that is."

"I'm just asking," Brooklyn said, her words defensive and touched with hurt.

Jennifer closed her eyes and shook her head, "I'm sorry, there's just so much you don't know about these people," she said as an apology. "They don't play around, they don't think twice about making someone disappear, and worse, they're not held to the same rules as the rest of us. They're wealthy and powerful, and they always get what they want. I was extremely lucky to have been able to break away from it... but now it seems like the universe is conspiring to suck me back into that mess of shit." Tears streaked from the corners of Jennifer's' eyes and ran down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away with her forearm.

Brooklyn's mind was ablaze with thoughts and ideas, all scared the hell out of her, but she had to find a way to fix this. "Whose PI, and what are Js?"

Jennifer didn't answer straight away, but eventually spoke, "It's better you don't know who PI is, but Deacon's referring to Johns—that's what they call them in the States, you've probably heard of punters though."

"I reckoned that's what it was from the context," Brooklyn said, trying to understand the problem more fully. Usually, solving problems was something she enjoyed doing, but this was so far out of her life experience that it was like trying to learn to swim by jumping into the middle of the ocean.

"Oh god, what am I going to do?" Jennifer said softly, more to herself as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back until it met the wall. "I guess some mistakes must stain you forever."

"I don't understand why Deacon wants you so badly, surely there are loads of women that would be willing to do it."

Lifting her head, Jennifer turned her gaze back to Brooklyn, "The group that Deacon works for is extremely private, and they go to the extreme to avoid mistakes," she said, taking in a deep breath and holding it for a moment, "Deacon knows he can trust me to make sure his clients are kept 'happy', and their identities kept secret—he trusts me—or at least he used to. I suppose he still does, or he'd stop texting. Anyway, if he were to use an unknown escort, and word got out about one of the punters' identities, Deacon would be disappeared quickly and quietly. I'm serious when I say that they don't faff about."

"They sound like monsters," Brooklyn said, picturing demon-looking men in her mind as she imagined what these evil men must look like.

Jennifer shrugged, "They're actually surprisingly normal most of the time. As long as you do as your told and keep their secret, they'll be the nicest people you've ever met. They're not looking for relationships - a good many of them are married. Some want no-strings-attached sex, others simply want companionship... they're all different."

"Would you have to stop seeing you're current... clients," Brooklyn asked, pausing briefly as she tried to find the right word.

Jennifer shrugged again, "Probably, or at least some of them. I might be able to take on a couple more if they were close, but Deacon's clients are all over the world, so you never know your schedule. Once you're in, they own your life. You do what you're told when you're told. That's the biggest problem," she said in exasperation, "This isn't something you can stick your toe into halfway."

"What are you going to do?" Brooklyn asked, and wished she could take back the words as soon as she'd said them

Jennifer began to openly cry, tears freely streaking down her cheeks and landing on her breasts. Brooklyn moved next to her and held her close. The room was silent for a long moment.

"I don't have much choice, Brooke," Jennifer said, her words almost unintelligible. "If PI ever learns that I was in Miami and could identify him, I'd never be free of it."

"Jen, listen—" Brooklyn began to speak, but Jennifer immediately tore from her grip and turned to face her.

"Don't you dare say what I think you're going to say," Jennifer said, her words searing hot.

"Look, Deacon already suggested it, so he must have some level of trust in—"

"—Brooklyn Ryan!" Jennifer snapped, "I love you with all my heart, but if you say anymore we're through. I'll drop you off here with mum and dad and you'll never see me again. I won't have it."

"Bloody hell," Brooklyn said taken aback, shocked at the vehemence with which Jennifer had lashed out. "You think you have to walk this alone?" Brooklyn shot back. "You don't. I'm here for—"

"—You have no idea what you're saying—as usual," Jennifer spat, seemingly only more determined in her stance. The insult stung as intended.

"As usual?" Brooklyn gasped, her skin flushing with anger. "Oh, because I'm just some pour little orphan girl who hasn't spread her legs to the world. Get stuffed, you fucking cunt. I can't believe you just said that."

Jennifer's lips pressed together tightly, but instead of lashing out, she took several deep, cleansing breaths. "You can be so bleeding frustrating sometimes," Jennifer said in clipped tones, barely hanging on to her emotions. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it that way—but fucking listen to me for a minute, please."

Brooklyn's jaw tightened, but she held her tongue.

"I don't take anything away from you. I know you've been through some hard shit in your life. But you were still able to attend a right posh school, and trust me when I say, you were very sheltered from real world. I know because I had my eyes opened when I got out... please don't press me on this. Please just drop it. I'll find a way to fix this."

Brooklyn exhaled a long breath, "Fine, but I'm still right pissed off about it."

Jennifer sighed in relief, "I know firefly, but I'll take you being cheesed off and alive than doing god knows what with those people." Jennifer pulled at Brooklyn's arm until the younger girl gave in and moved back to her side. "

-_-

Brooklyn opened her eyes to find that the sun was still below the horizon. Tucked into her usual position being held in her girlfriend's arms, her mind began to whir with thoughts, and she knew there would be no getting back to sleep. They would be going back to their flat today, and for once she was looking forward to leaving the Brodie's home. Previously, she would have given days of her life not to have to leave, but after last night, she felt like she needed to get back and start planning.

She had told Jennifer last night that she was going to drop it... but there had to be a way. Slipping out from Jennifer's warm embrace, Brooklyn dressed and went downstairs into the kitchen. She was surprised to find Aimee already sitting at the table.

"Watcha Brooklyn," Aimee said, sipping from her cup. "Tea or coffee?" she asked, gesturing toward the stove.

"Tea would be brilliant," Brooklyn said, padding over to the stove to retrieve the kettle. "I've never know you to be an early riser." Brooklyn took her tea and sat at the table next to her friend.

"Crikey! Brooklyn," Aimee said, her eyes widening as she reached out and pinched the chocker necklace. "That's new." The former roommate suddenly laughed, "And so is the love bite—that's going to take a while to fade."

Brooklyn self-consciously put her hand to her neck, "Is it that visible?"

Aimee shrugged, "Only to someone with eyes," she deadpanned.

Brooklyn rolled her eyes as she pulled her hair around to cover the side of her neck. "Will mum say anything?"

"She might. Now that she's basically adopted you, she's going to treat you like the rest of us. I hope you know what you're in for," Aimee said, momentarily returning her attention to her drink.

The idea that Mrs. Brodie would care enough to give her a proper scolding warmed Brooklyn as much as the hot tea.

"Oh, and mum and dad told me that they're going to be able to help you get started with tuition," Aimee suddenly gushed, her lips pulling into a smile. "This is going to be brilliant," she said enthusiastically, "I tried to find you after I heard the news, but you and Jen had already disappeared."

Brooklyn flushed at the thought that someone might have heard their goings-on in the bedroom. "Sorry bout that," she said, trying not to feel embarrassed about sleeping with her girlfriend in her parent's home. "We had a lot to chat about."

"Chatting, yeah, that's what I was hearing through the wall," Aimee snickered.

"You could hear us?"

"Are you serious?" Aimee looked up surprised. "Of course I could. My room is next to yours. Why do you think I'm down here so early—I barely slept last night listening to you two getting on."

Brooklyn looked down and shook her head and tried not to think about it, "What about everyone else?"

"Nah, they're all down the corridor, yeah. And mum and dad are down here. So, it was only me you were torturing last night."

Brooklyn looked up, a flood of relief falling over her like a cold waterfall. "Oh, that's not so bad then. You've already seen us shagging."

"Hey," Aimee protested. "I still don't want to hear it, yeah. Think about it, I was forced to hear my two sisters having sex—that'll scar anyone."

"Yeah, but I'm not your real sister," corrected Brooklyn.

Aimee made a frustrated cry, "You might as well be. I love you as much as I do Jennifer," she said, and then added in a slightly sarcastic, "maybe a little more."

Brooklyn beamed and her smile grew, "I love you too Aimee."

Aimee groaned, and then drank the last swallow of her coffee, "Ugh, this is too gushy even for me." Aimee stood and gave Brooklyn a warm smile. "When are you two leaving."

"Soon I expect," Brooklyn replied, looking at her phone to see the time. A text notification from an unknown number popped up on the screen. Ignoring it for the moment, she looked back to her friend. "How about you?"

Aimee shook her head, "I'm staying here until the flat opens up in a couple of months, but I'm going to get a kip before everyone gets up."

Brooklyn stood and the two friends embraced. "Come visit us, yeah," Brooklyn said as they pulled back.

Aimee nodded, "I will, maybe in a fortnight, mum will drive me spare if I don't get out once in a while. Still, better here than Stephen's flat." Aimee snickered and shot her friend a look, "You know I have to tell the girls, right," she said, referring to their former housemates. "They're going to be thrilled to finally have a lesbian it the group."

Brooklyn felt her blush return full force at the thought of her schoolmates knowing about her and Jennifer's official status. Aimee didn't wait for a reply before turning and heading out the kitchen and up the stairs.

Alone, Brooklyn took out her mobile and read the text.

- Jennifer, we need to talk. There is a possible way out. We can help each other. It won't be easy, but it's the right thing to do. Call me if you want a chance to make this go away.

Brooklyn reread the text several times. At first she thought it was from Deacon. Since her phone used to belong to Jennifer, she reckoned he simply had that number. But as she read the text more carefully, she realized its grammar and punctuation were very different. And where Deacon was trying to pull Jennifer back in, this person was offering a way out.

Brooklyn stared at the phone for several long minutes. Did she dare reply? She thought for several more minutes, and couldn't see any downside to a simple text. Looking around the kitchen, she listened for any noises that someone might be near, but the house was silent.

Her hands felt cold as she simply typed, 'how?'

A new text popped up almost instantly, 'Can't text details, but can tell you over the phone.'

Brooklyn typed, 'This isn't Deacon. Who are you?'

New text, 'No, not Deacon - will tell over the phone'

Brooklyn gritted her teeth and set the phone on the table. It was one thing to text whoever was on the other end, it was something entirely different to actually call. But as the seconds ticked by, she felt an anxiety she couldn't tamper. If this was a chance, even a small chance to help Jennifer, she had to take it.

Picking up the phone, Brooklyn went out the back door of the kitchen and into the garden. It was still mostly dark, but a faint light was beginning to grow on the horizon. The air was cold and a layer of wet due covered the grass. Finding a secluded spot, Brooklyn hit the icon to dial the number.

"Hello," the male voice simply said. It was an American accent. "Hello, Jennifer?" the voice repeated when at first she didn't reply.

"I'm not Jennifer," Brooklyn replied, proud that she sounded more in control than she felt.

"Then who?" the caller asked.

"I'm not going to give you my name, but I want to help Jennifer," Brooklyn said, steeling her nerve. "Tell me how you can help."

Brooklyn heard an exhaled breath, and then a long pause. Finally, the man spoke, "I appreciate that you want to help, but this concerns Jennifer only. If she wishes, she can call this number anytime."

Feeling like she was being dismissed, Brooklyn pressed, "If this is about what I think it is, she won't call. She's terrified. I'm... I'm her girlfriend."

"If you really want to help, convince her to call this number and talk to me," the voice said, but not unkindly.

"But who are you," Brooklyn asked, hoping to draw out yet a little more information.

After a long pause, the caller said, "Someone who can help." And then the call ended.

With her heart in her throat, Brooklyn growled in frustration and went back into the house. Luckily no one had woken up while she was outside. She sat down at the table as she heard the bedroom door to Mr. and Mrs. Brodie' room open and then close. Soon Mrs. Brodie strolled happily into the kitchen.

"Oh," Mrs. Brodie said with a start, seeing Brooklyn at the table.

"Sorry mum," Brooklyn said quickly, "didn't mean to startle you."

Mrs. Brodie' smile quickly returned, and she waved at Brooklyn dismissively as she passed by. "No concern, I'm just going to put on a spot of breakfast. Can't have you girl's going home hungry," the motherly figure said, humming a tune Brooklyn didn't recognize. "Plus, by the looks of it, you two are probably famished."

Brooklyn's head snapped up to see the matriarch smiling, her eyes falling to Brooklyn's neck. Brooklyn slapped her hand to her neck and dropped her eyes to the floor, a fiery blush exploding onto her cheeks and down her neck.

Mrs. Brodie tittered and moved towards the stove, "Ah, to be young and in love."

-_-

For almost an hour Brooklyn rode in silence, only watching the scenery pass by as she sat in the passenger seat. She ran the short conversation from the phone call over and over in her mind. She couldn't explain it, but she had a feeling of hope that there might be someone out there that could help. The problem was there was no possible way Jennifer would call. And worse still, if her girlfriend ever learned that she had replied to the anonymous person, Jennifer would never forgive her.

"—Are you going to give me the silent treatment the entire drive?" Jennifer's voice broke into Brooklyn's thoughts.

Shaking her head, Brooklyn turned from the side window and looked toward her girlfriend, "Maybe," she replied, but without any ire.

"Well don't," Jennifer said bluntly. "I don't like it when you're angry with me."

Brooklyn sighed, and her emotions softened, "I'm more worried than angry."

Jennifer's expression fell, and Brooklyn could see how contrite she was feeling.

"I am, too," Jennifer admitted, only taking a moment to glance in Brooklyn's direction before returning her attention to the motorway. "But I called Deacon this morning, and told him I needed more time."

"You did?" Brooklyn said, raising her brow high in surprise.

Jennifer nodded, "He said he thinks he can delay everything for a time because of the pandemic. He has a few escorts that are covering things for now, but eventually the demand will outpace the supply and he won't be able to stall any longer."

"That's something," Brooklyn said in a rush, "Any idea how long?"

"At least a few months, maybe until the fall if things keep under lockdown like they are."

"It's not an answer, but it's time to think. Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Brooklyn suddenly demanded.

The corner of Jennifer's lips pulled up slightly, "You were over there brooding like an angry housewife, giving me the silent treatment."

"No, I wasn't. I was being... pensive," Brooklyn said after a long moment. "Angry housewife," Brooklyn muttered distastefully.

The rest of the drive was quiet, but Brooklyn's spirit felt lighter. Arriving at the flat, Jennifer drove the car to the nearby carpark, and they entered their flat together. It felt like coming home, and Brooklyn couldn't help but smile as she entered their shared room to put away her clothes.

"let's have a shower and then find something to eat," Jennifer suggested, removing her blouse, and kicking off her trainers.