A Good Peace by Troy Conway

Author:Troy Conway [CONWAY, TROY]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Erotica, FIC005000
ISBN: 9780446543194
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 1969-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

A cock crowed at sunrise. I woke up.

To find Brigitte Lebeau sitting up in bed next to me, her lovely face propped on her right hand as she stared wistfully down at my raison d’etre. Her pink body glowed in the gloom.

“You called?” I yawned.

She shook her head admiringly.

“An hour or two is enough to refresh me. I have just been sitting here doing two things. One of which you see—regarding that fantastique! of yours. Is it always so, ah, prepared?”

“More or less.”

“Much more and you would be a freak. Did you sleep well, mon cherie?”

“The sleep of drunks, babies and well-hung men. What’s the second thing you were doing?”

She folded her hands. Since she was still as nude as a peeled grape, her breasts arched beautifully. The areolas were rosy red.

“I am thinking of my dear departed dead. And the awful place we went to last night. You recall?”

“I recall. I should think you’d want to forget that queer factory as soon as possible.”

“I cannot. I feel as if we missed a clue there . . .”

“Maybe but we didn’t miss any bets. Look, I hate to impose, but how’s the food in this place? I am famished. I think I got through nearly all of yesterday without a decent meal except for all that minor nibbling we did in the bistros where we checked on Danielle’s address book. Which reminds me. It’s gone.”

“Gone?” Her eyes popped. “How can that be?”

“Lost, strayed or stolen. Take your pick.”

“I pick stolen,” she vowed triumphantly, “at Les Deuces!”

“So do I. But feed me first before I eat you raw and chew you into little pieces. . . .”

“I would like that,” she confessed. “I am shameless.”

“Ain’t we all? Food, Madame, please.”

She laughed. “With ketchup on?”

“Anything. Only hurry, woman, hurry!”

The morning light revealed no telltale signs on her face. Not so much as a wrinkle. For thirty-seven, she was holding down the fort better than Custer had.

She fed me. A loaf of pumpernickel, three cups of coffee to wash it down and generous slabs of Camembert cheese as well as an apple or two. It wasn’t a blue-plate special but it was food. I devoured it all as if it was pheasant-under-glass. I skipped the cognac. The coffee would have to do me and it did me fine.

Brigitte didn’t eat at all. She was far too happy having rediscovered her femininity. In fact, she got downright coquettish. She kept on eyeing the four-poster. Longingly.

“Later, Brigitte. We have too much to do. Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know.”

“With you it seems so,” she laughed again. “What will we do this morning?”

I was about to come up with something brilliant when my eye suddenly caught a reflected gleam of light from the far side of the apartment. For a moment, I blinked and then I got up slowly from the table. Brigitte’s eyes followed me with curiosity, for I must have had a strange expression on my face. I hadn’t noticed before but one of the light fixtures on the wall which faced the bed was flickering, glowing strangely.

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