The ledge leading to the keep could hardly be called a road. Could hardly be called a ledge. But Jodie Amsterdam allowed herself to be driven up it at desperate speed. Never once bothering to doubt the capabilities of the young woman next to her.
Cipriana Abescu had qualified for a local racing circuit a week ago. The daughter of a racer, she seemed particularly at ease when going fast--except, Jodie thought ruefully, in bed, where it mattered most. That the toothpick sized ledge failed to change that only served to reignite the fire that had drawn Jodie to the young woman in the first place.
She had heard of the races at Monte Carlo from her years at St. Elderbirch's School for Girls. A collection of some of the riches, most cosmopolitan women around, one or two duchesses and and heiresses had mentioned summers there "watching the races." Enthralled, Jodie had begun making a habit of visiting, but only until recently had any of the racers ever caught her eye.
Enter Cipriana. Fifteen years her junior--even more in the ways of the bedroom--Jodie had found herself quite taken by the dedicated young driver. One night of celebration had bled into another, and then another. Though, despite the persistent time together, the young woman remained reluctant to truly rev her own engine, as it were. In her youth Jodie would have lunged at the opportunity to foster a young kitten, slowly helping her along as she explored her own fetishes and wishes, but age had, it seemed, had begun to catch up with her. She yearned for a woman to come ready made and eager.
The young driver must have sensed her thoughts. As she shifted gears the car stalled, lurched forward. Probably the first vehicular misstep she had had since she was four, mused the detective.
" Sorry," the young Romanian said.
"It's not your fault, dear. I blame myself, really. Rushing you along like I did."
"No. You've been so kind to me and..." The girl's eyes lowered. Incredible, Jodie thought, how a woman could be so in control yet so full of doubt. Behind the wheel of this machine, Cipriana could do things only a handful of people in the entire world could do, and yet, looking at her now, you'd think a person had never been so lost, so crestfallen.
"Don't do that to yourself. The world is all too eager to kick you at the knees until you fall, then all too happy to keep on kicking. It doesn't need your help."
A sharp curve emerged in the mountainside ahead and Cipriana responded with ease, shifting the car down a gear, and whipping around, never once leaving their lane, never once feeling out of control, never once feeling like life or limb were in danger.
And in that moment, that singular turn before the young woman righted the car and continued on along the mountain toward the keep and the museum there where Jodie had been summoned, Jodie realized what had been holding the young woman back.
"As a matter of fact," Jodie said, turning to examine the young Romanian. Hair whipping feverishly about her face under the headscarf Jodie had bought her, she looked every bit the fearless racer Jodie had thought she was. Except, under the chic Jackie-O sunglasses, and despite the elegant white scarf wrapped delicately around her neck (both of which Jodie had purchased, she enjoyed spoiling her girls), there was an undeniable sense of turmoil. "I believe this trip out to the mountains is precisely what we need."
"You mean, you're not angry?"
Jodie intended to say no. To immediately massaged the young woman's damaged ego. But lie of any size never fit well in her mouth. "I must admit I was a bit frustrated. I've always been up front about what I do and do not enjoy, and I've never been shy about making it clear when and how I want it. But it was unfair of me to push you. That's no fault of yours, my dear, but of mine. I promise to be more patient, so long as you promise to be a little more trusting. And, perhaps, a little more reckless?"
Jodie placed her hand in the young woman's lap. For the first time since she first watched Cipriana tear through the streets of Monte Carlo, her control waned and the car jittered from side to side.
"Oh! I'm so sorry."
Her voice soothing, controlled, Jodie said, "No worries. I've never once feared for my safety while beside you."
A smile, the first since last night, graced the young woman's lips and a faint red hue emerged in her cheeks.
"There now. Relax. You do what comes naturally to you, and I'll do what comes naturally to me."
"But what--" Cipriana's voice failed her. Jodie's fingers running firmly over her body, exerting the same level of confidence and control Cipriana showed behind the wheel of a car. "But how can you be so calm."
"I told you. Because you're driving, love."
Jodie's fingers pressed down harder, moving with more purpose, with more rhytyhm. The woman responded by rolling her head side to side. Clearly more relaxed. "I mean, about the museum. About the murder?"
"Oh that. Those things tend to sort themselves out. After all
The following challenges were completed during the writing exercise:
Begin Start typing to begin
Words Reach 50 words
Words Reach 100 words
Words Reach 200 words
Words Reach 300 words
Sentence "It's your fault."
Letter Use the letter T
Words Reach 400 words
Words Reach 500 words
Location A museum
Words Reach 600 words
Words Reach 700 words
Words Reach 800 words
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