An Australian Affair RPG

Cloaked by a hooded black robe, Amora Huntington heads silently through the dead streets of New York City to the back entrance of a popular strip club. As she makes her way through the door, a swirl of amaranth-colored smoke surrounds her alluring figure, fading away to reveal a black corset, thigh high heels and thong to replace the black robe. Entering the club no one questioned her arrival, assuming she was another one of the dancers. With an apathetic gleam in her pale blue eyes, the sorceress spreads apart the curtains leading onto the stage.

A burst of shouts and hollers greet her as she walks slowly and sensually toward the metal pole positioned at the end of the long stage. She flashes a few of the men tantalizing smirks, but seems intent on keeping the focus of the man sitting directly in front of the pole. Dressed in a three-piece tailored Armani suit, he had moderate stubble on a face that placed him at mid-thirties with an athletic physique. He showed no immediate desire for her, unlike the men around him who had begun to pull the cash out of their wallets. Gripping the pole tightly, Amora circles it slowly before bringing her legs above her and wrapping them around tightly. Arching her back she reaches back up and above her legs to position herself high enough to spiral back down, her long blonde hair flying. Once again planted on the stage, she locks eyes with the still expressionless man sitting in front of her. Without moving her gaze her fingers reach to loosen the ties of her corset, string by string until she needed to hold it from falling off. With one last amorous glance at the man in front of her, she spotted the subtlest upward curve on the corner of his lips before he stood and left for one of the club's private room. With a mischievously accomplished smirk, Amora re-tightened her corset and walked with swaying hips back across the stage and behind the curtains. From backstage she paced to the private room where the man had headed, teasing her hair slightly before sliding behind the smaller set of curtains and into the room.

He sat arrogantly on the circular couch that surrounded a single table where another silver pole was standing, a drink held causally in one hand. Closing the curtains behind her she walked slowly toward him, placing a leg on either side of his body and breathing against his neck. Placing her lips against his skin she could feel his mouth stretch into a smile as well as the tension in his body evaporating. His head turned in an attempt to find her lips, which they did as his hand simultaneously gripped her thigh firmly with his available hand. With much struggle and a few deep breaths he managed to pull his lips off of hers momentarily.

"You're not the NYC dancer type," he started with a smirk, taking a sip of his drink, "so what's a goddess of a woman like you doing in a place like this?" he asked. Without leaving his lap, Amora leaned back to meet his steel-grey eyes.

"And you're not the type of man who would need to come to a place like this, so I could ask you the same question," she said in a teasing tone. Standing up the same smoke surrounded her once more, this time leaving her in a white silk robe. With her back turned to the man she grabbed the majority of her hair and tied it in a loose bun, exposing the nape of her neck. "But, I don't have to, because I know you're Jason Beckham, son of Australian Prime Minister Jonathan Beckham."

His eyebrows rose in amusement, but his cold grey eyes remained unreadable. "You caught me," he said, throwing his hands up with playful drama, “I enjoy an escape to indulge in some American entertainment every once and a while,” he said leaning back with a smile. "Now it's my turn to ask a question. What do you want with me, Amora Huntington?" Despite showing no display of surprise on her face, Jason knew she hadn't expected him to know her identity. “Come on, I’m the Prime Minister’s son, you really didn't expect me to have heard of you?” he asked cockily, placing his hands in his lap. “But really, why go through all this trouble just to talk to me?”

Taking a seat on a different corner of the couch she positioned her body to face him, crossing her legs elegantly and allowing her robe to expose more of her lean, toned legs. “I have a question for you, about your father,” she said seriously, all seductive playfulness absent from her mannerisms.

“Doesn't everybody?” he retorted, playing along in her game of coolness as he transitioned to a more formal position, "what makes you think you’re getting an answer?”

“Because I can guarantee you haven’t been asked my question before. What do you know about an affair your father had twenty-five years ago?” she asked bluntly, but staying cool. This time it was her turn to catch him off guard; however he was equally skilled at preventing it from showing. She waited for a response, expecting him to deny any sort of action.

“I was seven when it happened,” he sighed, dropping his head to stare at the ground. “No one else in my family knew, but I was always close with my dad, and even from a young age I knew something was going on. It lasted for a while, the affair, before all of a sudden the signs of another woman disappeared. He had never done something like that, he loved my mom and was really focused on starting his political career, so I never said anything,” he finished. It was clear that he had never told anyone of this before, and every word had been a weight off his chest. Looking back up, his eyes gazed directly into hers, but deeper than before. “Look, I have no idea why I’m telling you this, but I like you. So, Amora, the least you can do is let me know how you knew, and why you came here to ask me about it.”

She stared back into his eyes for what seemed like much longer than it was before slowly standing and removing her robe to reveal a pale pink bra and garter thong with diamond embellishing. Time seemed to move in slow motion as she stepped toward him, straddling his lap once more. Her ice blue eyes remained unreadable, but had become much softer than before as she ran her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. His mouth opened in an attempt to repeat his question, but failed to get it out before she leaned in to brush her lips against his ear with a subtle shhh. “You’ll find out everything Jason, but not now,” she whispered, her lips moving back down to his neck. Without any protest, Amora continued to kiss his neck before moving to his lips, the couple’s breathing growing increasingly rapid until both their clothes were on a pile on the club’s floor.

It was Australia’s summer months, hot and humid in the day, hot and humid at night, yet civilians still wore floor length gowns paired with high heels as they entered the marvelous Sydney Opera House. Kalliste stood across the water viewing the opera house planning on how she will be able to speak with the Prime Minister, she assumed he would have a whole row to himself and his family with additional security guards. Killing was not an option as this is a very public, very open, space, the only option would be to walk up causally and request a word without taking no for an answer.

The small wooden boat rocked lightly as Kalliste stepped off the dock onto the polished deck, she did not stop to gaze at the beautiful architecture of the opera house and immediately made her way to the lower level of the deck. The second level was small but very luxurious, it consisted of a bathroom, a bedroom and a closet. Kalliste glided across the carpet to the bathroom where she began to shower. Freezing water flowed from the head of the shower, but the cold was welcomed as the outside temperature felt above one hundred degrees. There was not time to waste and as soon as possible Kalliste sat down in front of the mirror wearing nothing but her towel as she put on minimal make up and arranged her hair into a formal high bun resting on top of her head. All that was left to do was to get dressed. Opened closet doors revealed a single beautiful black dress that Kalliste slipped easily into. It looked even more beautiful on her, the dress had sheer fabric the hung off the shoulders and was attached to the sweetheart neckline. At the waist the dress hugged Kalliste’s hour glass figure, and below that the dress was collected at the rear and flowed loosely to the ground behind her.

Kalliste grabbed a pair of long black gloves and put on a pair of diamond earrings with a sparkling diamond choker. Back on the deck people's heads turned as Kalliste walked past them on her way to the opera, she was flattered until somebody made some offensive remark. In less than an instant she had her knee in the back of a tall man who dare be vulgar to her. People gasped and began to stare so she let go and continued walking as his face hit the ground.

Upon arrival at the entrance it was already dark, the line was short and most viewers were already seated inside, the wait was only a few minutes before Kalliste gave her reservation name and was allowed inside, she scanned the crowd as she walked and just as she suspected the Prime Minister had a row to himself, his wife, and two of his three children flanked on either side with security. With no other option Kalliste made her way down the center aisle to the target. “Jonathan Beckham I would like a word, Helen please relocate you and your children.” Instantly a security guard grabber her wrist and Kalliste stared him in the face, her eyes were very deep blue but retained a very wild look in them and with one glance the guard let go. Kalliste rubbed her glove and tried again. “Sir it is in your best interest that you and I have a talk.” He nodded and his family left but security remained, just as Kalliste sat down the lights dimmed. “You have captured my attention, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he said with a slight smirk. “My name is Madison Vaughn and I'm wondering if you have ever met my mother. Her name was Elizabeth and I believe you two knew each other.”

From 52 stories above ground, the Ty Warner Penthouse suite in New York’s Four Seasons Hotel provided a breathtaking 360 display of The City That Never Sleeps. City lights still shone through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows even in the earliest hours of the morning, adding a livelihood to the night that could be found in very few other cities. Layers of snow had already begun to fall on the ground so far below the suite, the winter wonderland a magical view from the California king size bed where two slumbering figures lay wrapped together under silk white sheets. Amora laid nearly asleep in the strong arms of Jason Beckham, son of the Australian Prime minister and temporary owner of the exquisite suite. The couple’s own body heat as well as a modernly-designed fireplace kept them cozily warm against the scathing winter cold outside the penthouse.

The trip from strip club to penthouse was a fuzzy memory in Amora’s mind. Not due to any influence of mind-altering substances, but simply because she remembered little more than his lips and body against her own as the two had taken a limo, called in by Jason, back to the Four Seasons and up the elevator to the Ty Warner Penthouse, where he seemed rather accustomed to staying. The doors behind them were quickly shut and locked as they used every ounce of willpower to make it to the bedroom. From the moment they flung themselves on top of the massive bed, the night had been wild and untamed ecstasy.

Now, hours later, Amora shifted her figure tighter against his embrace, looking for more than extra protection against the cold. Despite having thought he was asleep, Jason’s body responded as if it knew exactly what hers wanted, positioning his athletic frame to cover even more of her bare skin from the cold air. As they settled into each other’s arms once more he let out a low hum of content, his lips turning into a smile on the smooth skin of her bare shoulder. The feeling brought a delicate grin across her own face as she turned over to look into his eyes, accepting the fact that neither of them was going to fall asleep again. She studied the light grey patterns that ran like minuscule rivers throughout his steel eyes, as transfixed by them as he seemed to be by her own pale blue pair. She ran her fingers slowly through his short, brown hair while his fingertips brushed delicately against her collarbone, as if afraid that one rough move would shatter her. The usual pillow talk of complimenting one another’s bedroom prowess never happened. It didn't have to. After how long they didn't know, the boyishly-charming smile he had given her in the club returned to his lips as he rested his head in her lap, continuing to allow her to play with his hair as he spoke.

“Alright, back to my question Ms. Huntington,” he started, taking one of her hands and pressing it to his lips before holding it against his chest. “Although the reason why matters little in comparison to the result, I still wouldn't mind some insight into your interest in my father. Your interest wasn't exactly common knowledge,” he said, careful not to sound too demanding in their transition from dream-like intimacy to reality.

She bit her lower lip lightly as she played with how to answer his question, knowing not everything was her story to tell. However she trusted Jason, at least with information he couldn't use against, and, after all, it was his family. Without stopping the steady motion of her fingers through his hair she explained her motives.

“You have a younger sister, Jason,” she saw the rebellious look appear instantly on his face as he began to protest and moved the hand on his chest to cover his mouth, “let me finish before you say anything.” Once she saw in his eyes that he would comply, she allowed her hand to return to his. “As I was saying, you have a younger sister; half-sister, to be exact. Twenty-five years ago, as you know, your father began an affair. This affair was not long-lasting, due to the woman, Elizabeth Vaughn’s, sudden disappearance. This is as far as your father’s knowledge of Elizabeth goes,” Jason had reached up to begin trailing his fingers lightly across the skin above her breasts, as if the motion helped him connect the dots inside his head. “Elizabeth had become pregnant, and feared the consequences of bearing the bastard child of a rising politician. She fled to Port Douglas where, nine months later, Madison Vaughn was born.” She paused, expecting him to speak, but he said nothing, instead waiting for her to finish her story. “Since then Elizabeth has died and Madison, your half-sister, has traveled a path unlike many others. So unusual it crossed with mine several years ago. Recently we decided to uncover many mysteries of Madison’s history, resulting in the careful study of some of her mother’s old photographs which led us to discovering your father as her. And now you’re all caught up.”

He said nothing but continued to draw along her unblemished skin, his face revealing none of the hundreds of thousands of thoughts going through his head. Finally looking into her eyes she held her breath in anticipation of his response.

“Okay,” he said.

Thinking she misheard him she asked quizzically. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated firmly, continuing to gaze deeply into her eyes as if she had never said anything.

Completely thrown she pulled herself from under his head, forcing him to sit up and look at her face-to-face. “You find out you have a half-sister as a result of your father cheating on your mother and all you have to say is ‘okay’?” she said more harshly than intended due to her bewilderment.

With an amused chuckle he cupped her chin in his hands to explain. “Look, whatever my father did is between him and whoever this half-sister of mine is. I’ll deal with it when it affects me,” he said, leaning closer. “But for now,” his eyes closed as his lips hovered inches from hers, “all I want to learn more about, it you.” As Jason leaned in farther to close the distance between them, a sudden ringing from his phone interrupted their intimacy. Halting his advance, neither of them moved as they both thought about whether or not to answer the sudden call. “Ignore it,” he insisted, moving closer once more.

“No, it’s the only call you've gotten all night, it might be important,” she said, pushing her hand against his chest. With a frustrated sigh he rolled out of bed, taking a moment to stretch his bare body before slipping on the pair of Calvin Klein briefs lying on the floor. Her eyes gleamed with sexual desire at the sight of his chiseled physique, a promiscuous smile coming across her lips as he picked up his phone, mouthed the word “mom”, and answered.

The conversation wasn't exceptionally long, and Jason did very little of the talking. His tone very rarely matched the amused expression on his face, as though his mom was telling him something he already knew. From the sound of it, she was extremely upset over something that was fazing Jason very little. With a final goodbye he set the phone back on the nightstand and crawled back into their bed, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her as if it was all he had thought about doing while on the phone. Holding her head against his chest he smiled. “Sounds like the family met my half-sister before I did.”

The whole Opera house vibrated and crystal chandeliers shook from the booming voice resonating from a very petite woman standing center stage. Her voice must have been audible across the globe but all seemed silent to Madison. Her new father was silent after his wife ran off into the lobby and the show began. His piercing eyes that were so similar to hers locked in on her face as if there was a gun's laser in between her eyes. Madison could not deny that she was feeling affected but she was trying her hardest to hear the prime minister's wife. It sounded as if right when she got off the phone she said her husband was in danger. Within seconds his bodyguard's com buzzed. "We are evacuating the theater keep Beckham safe." Instantly a ringing overpowered the opera and water rained down from the ceiling. Somebody had pulled the fire alarm. "Just my luck" Madison muttered. "Listen, we are just having a talk if i wanted to hurt him he'd already be crying." Madison said in the direction of the nearest bodyguards. "As believable as that is concern has been raised and if you do not evacuate with the rest you will be removed." A guard spat with a tone of arrogance."She tells the truth." Jonathan Beckham took Madison's side yet the guards did not falter. "I understand sir but you're wife has identified this woman as a threat and she will be handled as such until a later time." What kind of protocol was this Madison wondered, where guards ignore the ministers word? The whole theater was empty and fifteen or twenty more guards in suit came down the aisles. "You really shouldn't have called me a threat. I have a short temper and hateful words like that really, well they really make me mad. Poor word choice." Madison gripped her dress near the seam at the waist and tore off the whole lower part of the dress revealing leather pants with a gun holster on either hip and a knife attached to each leg. The guards recoiled and drew guns on sight and aimed directly for her head. "Once again boys, bad move. These aren't diamonds, they are so much more." As she spoke the shining gems began to blink red. "These explosives and the only thing keeping them from exploding is my heart rate below 70, so you don't want to get me stressed." Jonathan Beckham still focused on Madison's face, he looked like he saw a ghost and did not blink until she reached down and raised her guns with lightning speed. "Lower your weapons, all of you!" He yelled with a commanding voice. The guards and Madison did not move in the slightest as if to see who would back down first, sure enough the guards threw their guns at the ground and Madison followed. "Well this was an unfortunate meeting father, i will be contacting you on a later date less publicly, count on it." Madison said calmly as she made her way for the exit. She turned her head for a split second and saw Jonathan Beckham send her a small smirk with the same untamed gaze she acquired and her body surged with chills as she stepped out of the building. She walked back down the pier to her boat, her diamonds stopped blinking and she threw them into the water where they were sure to drift away. She would stay in Australia a while longer until she found out more about her father.