"Blow shite up," they finished together.
Standing, James pulled her to her feet. "Let's go bathe."
Maura looked around, "Where do we go?" She followed as he pulled her out to a much smaller tent next to theirs. It was open on one side, then enclosed from the elements on the other three. Heading inside, she gasped at the huge copper tub set in the center of the tent, steam already rising from the surface. "This is like some epic film, like Lawrence of Arabia? It’s amazing!" she marveled.
James cocked his head slightly, watching her with curiosity. He couldn't imagine another woman he'd bedded before handling their Sahara encampment with anything but complaints and demands to leave immediately. Taking his shirt off and then his pants, he strolled towards her. Pulling her long hair up, he wound it into a coil on top of her head. He caught her examining his eyes. "What are you looking for, Pet?" His hands smoothed her silk shirt and pants off, long fingers going for the clasp of her bra.
Maura shook her head, lowering her eyes. "Nothing..." She stood still, allowing him to undress her, then help her into the huge copper tub. As he slid in behind her, James folded his long legs along hers, seating her on his lap to make room for them both. Looking up, she gasped. "It's so beautiful- look!" The opening in the tent faced the setting sun, and the two watched in awe as the fiery reds and oranges shot flames across the yellow sands as it sank over the horizon. She shook her head, "I've never seen such a thing... so elemental."
James absently rested his chin on top of her black hair, forgetting for a luxurious moment that Maura was a traitor and he was her captor. He didn't have much to compare the feeling to, but this almost felt like two people feeling- what? His hardened heart quickly reasserted itself. There was no softness here. He soaped up a sponge, gently pushing her forward as he washed her back.
***
Afterward, wrapped in cotton robes, the two went back into their main tent to see that the efficient Sahnoun had already been by to clear the dinner dishes and leave the water and more candles for the night. Picking up her hairbrush, James sat on the bed, knees spread.
"Sit in front of me."
She did, settling on a cushion and leaning forward a bit as James released her long tail of hair, beginning to brush it out. The silence was absolute, she noticed. No electronic noises now that the generator was off for the night, no sounds of traffic or people. The men were on the other end of the camp, and the wind didn't carry their voices in this direction. "It's so quiet," Maura suddenly volunteered. "I'm so used to constant noise, always just in the background."
"Hmm..." James picked up another length of her hair, still brushing gently. "It struck me the first time we scouted here. It took a bit of getting used to, but now it's... soothing. The stillness makes it easier to rest the brain."
"I never thought your brain would shut off," Maura was being daring, he thought. Maybe it was the two glasses of wine, or the bath, but she didn’t stop. "Like a shark, always circling around and around."
***
James thought about what she said, idly gathering her now smooth and silky hair in his hand, winding it over and over until it was wrapped around his fist. "Like a shark, I see." Ironically, he wasn't offended, it was a surprisingly accurate assessment.
For longer than he could remember, James thought ten moves ahead, covering every possible angle and contingency. It spoke to the growth of the Corporation, but most importantly, to his survival. Perhaps that's why Maura's betrayal was so utterly shocking- of everyone who could have been the operatives spying within his company, she was the last person he would have imagined. Her treachery shook his foundations. Why he couldn't seem to kill her shook them further, making him question his judgment. His fist tightened, and she gasped as her head was pulled back. "Do you remember what I told you last night, Pet?"
***
"I was hoping you'd forget," she admitted.
"What did I say?" James spoke right next to her ear; she could feel his lips move against the curve of her jaw.
"You said-" she swallowed, "you said that tomorrow when you were less likely to kill me..."
"Yes?" He prompted.
"...you… uh. I would be disciplined for giving away the necklace."
"That wasn't all, was it, Pet?" His lips were moving now, behind her ear, over the soft skin of her temple.
"Um... probably for knocking out the, uh... knocking out your new employee?"
"That's correct. Two offenses, both quite severe, don't you think?" His voice was poisonous, arousing.
"I don't- I guess that's up to you, Sir." Her hands were wrapped tightly around her knees, drawn to her chest. The shift from soothing and arousing to the uncertainty of his next move had her adrenaline spiking.
"Come, lay over my lap, Pet. Twenty for each offense."
Writhing helplessly on his lap, Maura found that forty blows to her bottom and thighs were much worse than the night in James’s living room, even sparing her the sting of those damnable leather driving gloves. And worse, he would stop at random times, playing idly with her clit or sliding a finger in and out of her, slicking Maura’s lips with her own arousal. She nearly broke and begged him when she lost count at a particularly nasty slap just under the buttocks and he began again. After a torturous thirty minutes, they were close. Sniffing and fighting against her tears, she gritted out, "Th- thirty-five, thank you, Sir!"
James smoothed his hot palm gently over her ass, glowing red from his hand. The forays he'd made down to Maura's tender inner thighs were the worst, since they were already wet from his relentless toying with her most sensitive parts. "And why am I disciplining you, Pet?"
"Because I gave away your necklace?" Maura's voice wavered, but she wasn't crying. Gasping at a nasty blow in her inner thigh, Maura stiffened again. "Thirty- um, thirty-six! Thank you, Sir."
"And why else?" came James's voice, resonant and endlessly patient. His hand was soothing the sting on her thigh as the other stayed pressed against the small of her back, holding her in place.
