raising his voice more than he intended to. 'It is downright perverted, and it means that she's nothing but a pervert. And a race track pervert at that.'
'You knew that when you married her,' Beatrice said, feeling she had to defend Vicky. 'You forced her even. She didn't force you and you know it. If you don't like what you got, it's too late to cry about it now.
You made the original choice, and now you just have to live with it the best way you can.'
'I could always divorce her,' he then shot back at her like the angry child he felt like right then. 'I have ample grounds and I have plenty of witnesses.'
Beatrice looked at him and laughed out loud, almost splitting a gut as she did so. 'Who the hell do you think you're kidding? You won't divorce her and you know it. You divorced the other two when you found them in bed with me, but you wouldn't divorce her if you found her in bed with me.'
And James knew he wouldn't. No matter what he said, it was all just talk. Somewhere, deep inside of his being was a spirit, a wraith that needed and wanted all of which he now so openly condemned. 'Pervert' and 'perversion' were words to throw, open defenses of himself for all the world to see but only words. Deep within his own being he knew that he must answer the nagging, desperate needs of his and her own flesh.
