Village Accounts

By Rachel Cray

This is an erotic romance novella (32,000 words) in the Maybourne Series. Because of its explicit content, this story is suitable for ADULTS ONLY.

Diane Wilson is trying to get over a disastrous relationship and pleads with the boss of her accountancy firm to have her moved to another branch office. When she finally gets her way, she finds herself in the picturesque district of Maybourne, with its old-fashioned houses, the ruins of an ancient abbey... and Arthur, who helps her establish herself in the business community. And with whom she quickly falls in love.
Circumstances change unexpectedly, and her former lover starts stalking her and forces himself on her. How can she escape from her evil Nemesis? And would Arthur take her back if she were to return, knowing what he has done to her? And what is the truth about Arthur's dark past?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rachel Cray
• Release date: Jul 18, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465885371

Rachel Cray

Rachel writes erotic romances to two sub-genres: the first she calls "law firm erotic", where her characters are the horny partners and employees of a U.S. law firm, and whose spare-time activities may best be described simply as sex-related. The second sub-genre she calls "village erotic", where the cast are the horny inhabitants of Maybourne, a fictional old market town in the heart of England with a number of olde worlde villages, Tudor buildings, a ruined abbey and other picturesque features in both rural and urban settings.She has worked in several European countries, first as a secretary and then as an executive assistant, before returning to her roots in Surrey, England, and close to London; for many years she was the director of administration at the London office of a large U.S. law firm before leaving to run her own recruitment company. Now in semi-retirement, she devotes most of her spare time to writing erotic romance novellas, drawing on her life's experiences in a variety of fields. She is married with children and grandchildren.

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Village Accounts

by Rachel Cray

An erotic romance in the Maybourne Series

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Rachel Cray

Rachel Cray’s home page

Discover other titles by Rachel Cray at Smashwords.com:

A Stranger in My Bed

Jack, Me, and His Lodger

Interview For Love

A Close Match

Kate’s Return (publication due August 2011)

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons (living or dead), actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission by the author, except for brief quotations for review purposes.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

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CHAPTER 1

It's no good, Frank. I have to get out of here before I go crazy. If I don't make a move soon, I'm going to do something silly – like jump in front of a train.

I was in the office of Frank Goodman, the senior partner at the head office of the firm of accountants where I worked. Frank was a grey-haired bespectacled fifty year-old, unsmiling but accessible and not always sympathetic to the problems faced by his staff. It was the third time I had asked him if I could be transferred to another office, as far away from Cranchester as possible. I just couldn’t stand the shame, the guilt, and the constant reminder of the personal relationship that I had struggled to terminate. There had been one year of bliss and two subsequent years of misery; I had finally broken free from it, but I felt a burning need to start a new life somewhere else.

There’s no need to be so melodramatic, Diane, Frank replied. We can’t do anything unless there’s a suitable opening for you somewhere else. I’m sorry, but I’ve told you this before. And that’s the way it is.

There must be someone in the firm somewhere who would be ready to move to my desk. And I could change places to do his or her workload. I hadn’t been invited to sit down in the senior partner’s office, but I wasn’t finished yet and I helped myself to a chair now as I continued. I’ve been here for the last four years, ever since I finished university. I’ve risen modestly up the ladder, and I’m eager to advance my career even further. Either in this firm or elsewhere. I glared at him to make sure he understood the significance of that last phrase.

"All right, Diane. I can appreciate your frustration. Give me a couple of hours. I need to talk to a few people. I promise to give you an answer before the end of the day. I make no guarantees, but I’ll give it my best shot. I have to be fair – and to be seen to be fair – to everyone. You understand."

That’s fine with me. Thanks, Frank. I appreciate it.

I returned to my desk and checked my emails on my monitor. There was nothing new, so I had a breathing space. Enough time to get out to an early lunch.

At the sandwich bar, I took a chicken on brown bread with a coffee and headed off to a quiet bench in the local park. It wasn’t quite noon yet, so there weren’t too many people around. I brushed the seat quickly, sat down, and absorbed the welcoming peace. It gave me time to reflect on the situation. Passing traffic murmured gently in the distance.

I had gained a place at the head office of Wallington’s, one of the top 50 accountants in the country, after getting a pretty good mathematics degree at Nottingham University. At the tender age of 21, I had met and fallen in love with a 29 year-old lawyer who omitted to tell me he was already married... until I’d been dating him for eleven months. His professional education had made him a smooth talker, because he continued to dupe me into thinking he’d been trying to divorce his wife since before he met me.

I cannot believe how naive I was to have believed him. I was truly angry with myself, and I let it show to others with whom I worked. Any man who attempted to approach me on the social front was soon made aware that I wouldn’t be interested for the next hundred years. New people arriving at the firm were warned about me: I was prickly. Things were that bad. But it wasn’t my fault. At least, I don’t think it was.

His name was Trevor Thomas, and nearly every day for the last two years I had regretted ever having met him.

The last occasion when I saw him was a week previously, when he had invited himself round to my house.

I was just on my way out, I said.

He pushed his way past me.

I just happened to be in the neighbourhood, and I was feeling horny. Now I remember that you once told me that, if ever I felt like it, you would let me have it.

Yes, but that was before we split, when I realised -

Split? We never split up, my love. There was a misunderstanding, sure, but... Look, I haven’t got all day. Can we cut to the chase and get started?

He unzipped his fly, and expected me to kneel and give him oral sex.

I felt humiliated. I performed the job mechanically, as I had so many times before. Yes, I had told him I could make myself available to satisfy his enormous sex drive any time he wanted. But that was when I was in love with him. Before I had discovered...

Ouch. That hurt, you bitch! You weren’t concentrating. I felt your teeth.

I’m sorry...

Come on, let’s get on your bed.

Trev, I’m sorry, but I’ve just ‘come on’. I’ve got my period.

You’ve never been bothered about that in the past. All right then, I’ll just come between your legs.

That was a lie. We had never had full sex during my period. I wasn’t going to argue today. We went into my bedroom and pulled up my skirt.

He pulled down my panties with a fast, tight grip.

I felt his cock, now firm and thick, sliding between my legs. He had helped himself to some lubricant I kept beside the bed, and had rubbed it on himself.

And now he rubbed it on my anus. No, I said. Please. Not up there.

He ignored me. This is going to hurt if you don’t get on your hands and knees, he said. Your hole needs to gape open more for me to enter.

I obeyed, and felt his thumbs pulling the entrance to my anus wider apart, and then the hard, thick slither of his cock as it entered me. Please don’t hurt me, I cried.

He jerked back and forth, his vicious hormones taking control. And within a couple of minutes, he was finished.

Pulling away, he pushed me gently aside on to the bed. Then he got dressed and, without a single word, walked out.

That was the man that I had to escape from.

A plane flew overhead, doubtless taking people off to a far more pleasant place to recharge their batteries for a week or more. I, too, wanted to be anywhere but here. I screwed up the empty packaging that wrapped my sandwich, and the empty cardboard cup, tossed it in a bin and returned to the office.

Diane, Frank wants to see you, one of the guys told me as soon as I walked in.

I went to see Frank; his secretary - his efficient doorkeeper - waved me through.

Good news, Diane. How would you like to go to Maybourne? You won’t need to swap with anyone already there – it’s a new position that we’ve been thinking about for some time. We need an accountant with your experience to develop business still further there. It’s a thriving market town, with several businesses in the surrounding villages and, to be honest, our competitors are doing very well there... and we could be doing a lot better. I’ve discussed this with Bill Thompson, the managing partner down there, and he’s happy to have you. This will be a challenge. Are you up for it?

I’ll pack my bags tonight. I closed my eyes for a moment, thanking fate. This was just the kind of opportunity I wanted. Besides, an old friend of mine from my days at university, Dan Collins, was based there. Dan was an urbane, affable guy who got on with everyone; having him around would be the icing on the cake, as far as I was concerned.

They don’t want you there until Monday next week, he chuckled. I’ll have a word with Trevor and Angela – they can take your clients, 50-50 down the middle.

He smiled at my open, speechless mouth.

Of course, you’ll have to talk to your landlord. I assume he’ll want a month’s notice to terminate your contract on the rent of your home?

I nodded.

Don’t worry. The firm can pay him the rent still owed after you quit. And, while you’re looking for a place in Maybourne, we can fund your stay in a hotel for up to a month.

After thanking him profusely, I floated on a cloud back to my desk, got out my copy of the firm’s directory and turned to the page covering our Maybourne office.

Compared with our head office, it seemed a tiny operation. But there, I would be a larger fish in a smaller pond, and this would give me greater scope; although I was a tax specialist, I would be able to get involved with so many other areas. Having thought about it further, I was really looking forward to the move.

Although I was busily handing over all my clients’ accounts to Angela and Trevor during my last three days at the head office, the time – especially the evenings – dragged by. I occupied all my time packing, writing lists, and phoning friends and my family to bring them up-to-date with my news, but it still dragged.

I drove to Maybourne on Sunday afternoon, and checked in at the hotel that I had booked. Once I had unpacked and got a feel for the place, I stepped out into the town and had a look around. It didn’t take me long to locate the firm’s branch office, which had been uppermost in my mind, and I explored the main streets to soak in the town’s character. With so many Tudor shops and houses – both genuine and imitation – I fell in love with its charm immediately. Although I noticed I would be working in a Regency building with a striking redbrick facade, I found it equally captivating.

All I could think about Cranchester was the two years of hell in my private life. Now, I could dream of a very long time in paradise here. My work with clients would also take me to the outlying villages; if they had