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Authors: A. E. Murphy

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BOOK: Masked Definitions
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Or maybe I should just quit?

“The only thing I can think of is about Max and that’s up to him to tell you,” I say softly and give her a reassuring smile. “Other than that I’ve led a pretty boring life. I have two brothers who I rarely see and my mum lives in Old Malton with her boyfriend. I see her every couple of months through no fault of her own.”

Her steely gaze softens and her shoulders sag. “I apologise for being so intense.”

“No worries, I understand.” I smile kindly, shifting back to Olivia when the door opens and Mildred walks in with the first round of food.

“You’re very naturally beautiful,” Penelope tells me as we take our seats and the men walk in. “If I had your bone structure and flawless skin, I’d never wear makeup either.”

I grin, grateful for the compliment. “I’m sure you could pull it off too.”

“I have skin like a leather handbag.” She laughs, taking the seat beside her husband who sits at the end. Max sits to his right, in between us both.

“What have you ladies been yapping about?” Elijah asks, his eyes on his food. I spear a stuffed mushroom with my fork and carefully cut it with my knife. These knives and forks are so heavy, the handles thick and engraved with symmetrical patterns.

“Makeup and the likes.” Penelope winks at me, reminding me of the exchange we just had. I dread to think of just how serious she could be if she ever finds out about her husband’s late night visits to see a stripper. I’d say it’s not really cheating as he hasn’t had sex, but he let me touch him, he paid me to please him. It’s cheating. “You?”

“Same, same,” Max jokes, making them laugh. “So, I hear you’re travelling to Scotland, Penelope?”

“Ah, yes, I have a meeting with a fresh, new designer. I own my own clothing boutique in London.”

“Sounds great, maybe you can give my wife some fashion tips,” Max suggests and gives me a sideways glance. “Baggy jumpers and jeans are her clothing items of choice.”

What a fucking arsehole
, I think but keep my face passive. I’d have thrown my plate at him but I don’t want to cause a scene.

I like my clothes. I look good. Sure I don’t look designer, but I don’t look like a tramp either.

Unfortunately for Max, nobody laughs apart from him so we fall into an awkward silence. He recovers quickly by nudging me and saying, “She knows I’m kidding. I love everything about her.”

“Tell me more about how you met.” Penelope saves the day.

“I had the biggest crush on her in school.” Max grins and swallows the food in his mouth before continuing. “I stalked her until she agreed to go out with me.”

Their eyes come to me. They obviously want me to continue. “He isn’t joking either. He followed me home from school every single day for about three months before I agreed to go out with him.” I place my fork onto my empty plate and sip my wine.

“That’s disturbingly sweet. How old were you both?”

“Fourteen,” Max finishes. “Olivia is actually older than me by five months.”

“You cougar,” Penelope jests, making me smile.

Elijah’s eyes go to my mouth when I lick my lips and sip more wine. I wonder why but don’t get the chance to dwell on it as Mildred diverts our attention by clearing the table.

“And you’ve been together ever since?” Elijah asks curiously, leaning to the side so Mildred can take his plate. She hobbles from the room, her tray rattling. The urge to help her is strong.

“Pretty much,” I say as Max says, “I wouldn’t let her leave me even if she wanted to. She’s a good woman. I don’t deserve her.”

I just melted a little, my anger at him for his earlier statement slowly dissipating. I lean on him for a moment.

Elijah and Penelope watch our exchange almost wistfully.

“What about you two?” Max asks. “How did you both come to be?”

“Arranged,” Penelope states. “So not as romantic as your story.”

It has suddenly become awkward again.

“We’re a good match,” Elijah tells his wife and they both look blankly at each other. There is no chemistry there at all.

No wonder she travels a lot.

 

“Are you sure we can’t convince you to stay? It seems like such a bother to have you leave so late.” Penelope tells us as we leave but, fortunately, Max accepts my look and makes excuses for us both.

It was a great evening overall. Penelope mostly kept me away from the men and I was grateful for that, but I came to the conclusion that using her as a barricade between her husband and I is fucked up. I’m basically using the wife of the man I’m cheating with to stop him from recognising me so I can continue cheating with him.

It doesn’t get much worse than that.

 

I found it so hard to sleep last night, I don’t know how I’m going to work tonight.

 

Penelope
:
Thank you for a wonderful evening. I would like to meet again when I return from Scotland.

 

Holy fuck. Speak of the devil of my nightmares.

 

Olivia
:
I would love to.

 

What is wrong with me?

 

Penelope
:
Excellent, I’ll be in touch.

 

Part of me hopes she won’t be.

“So tired.” I yawn loudly and roll into the mattress. I can hear Max pottering around in the kitchen area and it’s keeping me awake.

“Sorry, babe. I’ve been called into work.” I feel the bed dip when he leans onto it and presses a soft kiss to my temple. He nuzzles my neck and curls a hand around my hip. “We haven’t had sex in forever.”

“Mmm,” I agree as his teeth nip at my neck. “Tired.”

Sighing, he releases me and steps away. I keep my eyes closed so he can’t see the guilt and shame there.

And the longing you feel for his brother
, Enna whispers through my mind. I mentally punch myself in the face and as soon as the door closes, I climb out of bed, grab a box of cinnamon squares cereal from the cupboard and collapse onto the couch. My phone goes off three times as I crunch away, dipping my hand into the box every so often simply to fill my mouth again. Until it’s time for work, I ignore everything.

 

“I want you to be my mistress,” my Lord Duke says as I wipe his seed from my back. “I want to own you. All of you.”

“And then you’ll fuck me and tire of me and I’ll be without a job.”

“I’ll house you; I’ll clothe you, feed you. You’ll have everything you could ever desire.” He whispers and I feel his breath against my ear. It makes me shiver with need. I’m so frustrated, part of me wants to say yes. “I can’t get you out of my head.”

“That’s not possible.” I move away from him and pick up the money that has scattered all over the floor.

“Why? It’s the perfect solution. Name a price.” He steps in front of me again and grabs my wrists in tight hands. I gasp at the buzz it sends through my arms. I feel it deep in my groin. I’m losing my mind.

The red light above the door shines brightly and he releases me immediately. That’s Shade, giving the Duke his first warning.

“Please.” He runs his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated that he can’t touch me. “Why is it an issue? Do you have children? Are you a carer? What?”

I don’t respond.

“You’re married?”

“As are you, my Lord Duke.” I say softly and place the money on the bench after folding it tightly.

“Not really,” he tells me, stepping in front of me again, so close I can feel his body heat. It’s enough to make my head spin. “My marriage is complicated.”

I think back to the dinner last night. They said their marriage was arranged. Maybe they truly don’t love each other.

“Let’s not sour our little get togethers with talk of spouses.” I run my finger down his neck. “Don’t you think it’s more fun this way?”

“I have blue balls.”

“I’ve made you come every time.”

“And it only makes me want you more.” He raises a hand and I jump back when he reaches for my mask.

The door opens and one of the security staff steps into the room. He’s not the tallest guy in the world but his muscles say that he could very well be the strongest. His eyes sweep me up and down. I see them linger and narrow at my nudity. He likes what he sees, I can tell.

The Duke steps back and holds his hands up in defeat. “I wasn’t going to take it off.”

“Final warning,” the security guy says roughly after I give him a nod. He steps back out of the room but leaves the door open.

“I’m sorry,” Elijah murmurs and shakes his head. “I thought you felt the same way I did but I guess you’re trained to tell me what I want to hear, right?” His smile shines in the dark blue light. “You’re good at this. I fell for it.”

“If that’s what you believe,” I tell him and pick my gown up from the ground.

“Should I believe differently? Be honest with me.” There’s a vulnerability to his eyes that surprises me. “Am I just a wallet to you?”

His icy grey eyes suddenly soften and round as though his entire being relies on my answer.

“My Lord Duke.” I push the door closed and step towards him. “You pay for me, so you get me. This is my job.” He nods and turns to leave, though I’m not finished so I grip his chin with my hand. “You’re the one who thinks you’re a wallet. I don’t think that. You’re worth more than your money.”

“Are you saying that because I’m paying you?”

“I’m saying that because I’ve never wanted to fuck somebody more than I want to fuck you.” I lick my lips and move to the door, wishing he’d just leave.

He picks up his tie from the ground and pulls gently on a lock of my hair that hangs loosely over my shoulder. “I’ll be back Thursday. Please reconsider my offer.”

“I won’t.” I place my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes connect with mine for an everlasting second. I hold his gaze as something odd transpires between us, something I don’t understand. It’s silent communication, a silent conversation in which he tells me he won’t give up. I have no doubt that he will not give up.

This is a man who always gets what he wants and, for some unfortunate reason, this week it’s me that he wants.

And then he’s gone.

But sure enough, he comes back on Thursday. And the Friday. And then again on the Monday.

This entire time I’ve also been avoiding my husband and spiralling deeper into my guilt. I can’t do this anymore. Genuinely. The thrill just isn’t worth it anymore. I’m frustrated sexually. I’m frustrated emotionally. I’m exhausted.

What a web I’ve woven.

 

 

“I brought you back a gift,” Penelope states, grinning from ear to ear as she hands me a silver, sparkly gift bag.

I hate myself.

I pull open the bag and carefully take the shoe-box out before placing it on my knees. Removing the lid, a gasp escapes me. Inside sit the sexiest black, pointed toe shoes with a five-inch diamante stiletto heel that I have ever seen.

“I saw you eyeing mine the first time we met. I know they aren’t exactly the same, but… Oh shit, what’s wrong? You hate them?”

I wipe away the tears that I didn’t realise had fallen and bring the box closer to me. “I love them.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Because I’m a slutty, bitch whore and I want to fuck your husband so badly it physically hurts to be around him.

“I’ve just never seen such pretty shoes.” It’s the truth too. I don’t think I have. “I love them, thank you.”

“No problem, they’re your size, right?”

I nod. “I’m a five, these are a five. I’d still wear them if they were two sizes too small.”

“I’m so happy.”

Mildred fetches us wine and I want to down it. I contemplate it but I’m in the company of a classy woman and something tells me she’d frown upon my behaviour.

“So, when do I get an invitation to your home?” That is one thing I love and hate about Penelope. She speaks what’s on her mind. I’m more calculating; I keep things in until the timing is right. Not that her asking me for an invitation is wrong.

“I’d be embarrassed to show you my home after seeing this beautiful place.” I feel my cheeks heat and look away. “My entire flat fits in this room.”

“That’s tragic. I couldn’t imagine living in such confines. No offense.” She winces and brings her glass to her lips.

“None taken.” I lie. My life isn’t tragic in the least, but I suppose she didn’t mean it like that. “It can be cosy though. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself in all of this space. I’d eventually find a corner and snuggle into it with a blanket and a book.”

Her laughter is a soft lilt and it sounds rehearsed, like she’s practised and perfected her laugh throughout her life. I wonder what her real laugh sounds like.

Max and I were speaking the other night about Penelope and Elijah and their roles in the world. We’ve only ever seen them in their home and haven’t had to experience their actual lives. There’s only so much that the internet can tell us.

I know that Elijah works hard and the past few weeks he’s spent every free moment he can with Max, which is amazing but it’s also concerning. Max is getting attached, not only to this lavish lifestyle but to the brother he never had until now. Elijah is the kind of man who can just cut people off, I can tell, but Max isn’t. He can’t handle rejection or abandonment of any kind.

 

The door opens and Max and Elijah walk in. They look happy. Extremely happy.

Penelope straightens and greets her husband with a nod. Max hooks his arm around my neck and slams his lips onto mine, still smiling. I push him away to stop the public display.

“We’re staying here tonight,” he states quietly and my own smile vanishes. “We’re going fishing in the morning.”

Now I’m annoyed but I don’t show it. I simply nod and look back to Penelope. I purposely avoid looking into Elijah’s eyes, though he does lean as if to catch mine.

“I have clothes you can have.” She says happily and looks me up and down. “It’ll be nice to see some limbs on you.”

I rub the sleeves of my baggy jumper together and bite hard on my tongue. I told Max that under no circumstances could I stay here.

Fuck him.

“This should be fun,” Penelope adds and looks to her husband. “Is the guest room ready?”

“Of course,” Elijah bites, sounding irritated that she even asked.

“Come, we’ll leave the men to it and raid my wardrobe. Lord only knows what I have in there.”

Oh how the other half live. I feel like I’ve stepped into an alternate reality. “Sure.”

I keep my eyes on the ground as I pass Elijah and he doesn’t step out of the way as I pass. I think he actually wants me to brush against him, though not in a sexual way. I think he’s starting to notice that I’m avoiding him and probably just wants to confirm that.

It’s too late to change my response. I meekly and quietly mutter “Sorry” and shrink further into myself. I feel his eyes on my back as Penelope half drags me towards the stairs.

I fucked that one up.

 

Penelope’s closet is a sight to behold. You can walk into it. It’s like something from a movie. I feel sick with envy at all of the pretties.

“You’re a ten, right? I’m just estimating,” she asks, moving her clothes along a rail in search of something to wear. “Night wear should be in that drawer.”

I look to the drawer by my knee and fondle the hanging gold handles before pulling it open and revealing two clearly unused chemise nightdresses and one set of pyjama shorts with no top.

“Help yourself. Mine are waiting for me on the bed.”

I pick up the ivory one with lace trim at the bottom. It’s silk, definitely. It’s gorgeous but it leaves nothing to the imagination. There’s no way I can wear this. Max will never take no for an answer if I wear this.

“I knew I’d seen one in here somewhere.” She laughs when the fluffy gown she throws hits me in the face. “Would you like to shower or bathe? The en-suite to your room is lovely.”

If I hadn’t been involved with her husband, I’d be eating this up. I’d be loving this, but I just feel like a traitor. I feel like everything I touch is going to leave my filthy stain behind. The stain of my deceit and betrayal.

“It has been such a long time since I could relax around a normal person,” Penelope suddenly says, ushering me from the closet. “Let’s get drunk and I’ll do your nails.”

I look at my frayed cuticles and jagged tips and wince. “That actually sounds really nice.” I need to get past this. I need to stop being an ignorant bitch. I’m going to get caught eventually, so I may as well enjoy my life until the point it all fucks up.

I destress in an amazing bath, don the chemise Penelope has kindly gifted me and pull on the long fluffy robe. Penelope is waiting for me in her room, on her bed, with two extra-large glasses of rose wine and music playing quietly from somewhere I can’t fathom.

This entire time Max hasn’t come looking for me. Not that I thought he would, but it would have been nice. I’m too scared to go and search for him.

Penelope, like a teen girl, plays with my hair and braids and twists it to the top of my head, all the while talking to me about her boutiques and the photo shoots she’s done with hot models for magazines.

It’s not until she’s halfway through doing my nails that I notice something. “Where’s the Duke’s closet?” I immediately realise my slip up and feel nauseous.

Penelope bursts into a fit of laughter. This time her laugh is real and I prefer it to the fake laugh. “Did you just call him the Duke?”

I pull a face. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologise, it’s just… oddly cute.” Her blue eyes twinkle with mirth. “Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you by telling him.” My chest deflates. Thank fuck for that. “As for the answer to your question, we don’t sleep together. We haven’t for a long time.”

I hold my hands flat on the magazine on the bed, daring not to move for fear that I’ll catch the shiny dark purple polish and mar its perfection.

“Why?” I ask as she drains her glass, leans over the bed and pulls another bottle from under it. I’m surprised at this behaviour and I love her more for it. She refills our glasses, giggling when some of it sloshes over the side of her glass. I join in with her giggles when she puts my glass to my mouth in an attempt to feed me. We manage a little, laughing louder when it dribbles down my chin.

I want to ask why she’s not sharing a room with her husband but I don’t have a chance as the door opens and Elijah pops his head around. I quickly adjust my robe to cover my body. I have no time to move from my stomach on to my feet.

“Are you two okay? Do you need more wine?”

“So thoughtful.” Penelope grins and thrusts the half-empty bottle at him. “But we’re good.”

His lips twitch. “I can see that now.” When his eyes come to me, I automatically look away and curse myself. I promised myself that I’d try to at least act normal around him. I’m doing myself no favours. “Are you enjoying yourselves?”

“Very much.”

“Good.” He stares at my profile for too long. I shut my eyes but I can still feel him watching me, waiting for me to look at him. When he finally gets the message, he clears his throat and exits the room.

Twenty minutes later Penelope is unconscious and I’m tucking her in and tidying up after us both.

I grab the glasses and bottle and pad quietly down the stairs. I can hear Max and Elijah laughing in the living room as I pass. When it abruptly stops, I know that they’ve seen me pass them in the dark hall. I skipped quickly through the soft, orange glow that escaped the room but obviously not fast enough.

Max’s footsteps follow me. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I stop and turn to face him, my hands still full.

Smiling, he steps into my space and runs his fingertips along the braid on my head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” He looks sceptical.

I blow out a breath. “I’m fine now, I suppose.”

His relieved smile warms me. I can see how badly he wanted this and now I feel bad for telling him we could never stay here. Overall I’ve had a great night. “I’m going to get ready for bed now so I don’t wake you. Will you be upset if I stay up a bit longer?”

“Of course not.” I press my lips to his, careful of the glasses and bottles between my hands. “You go get ready. I’ll…” His eyes pan down as his hands untie my robe. That’s one thing I certainly love about Max; it doesn’t matter how many times he’s seen my body, every time he looks at me it’s like he’s looking at me for the first time.

My core throbs when he bites on his lower lip as if the sight of me is too much for him. “I like this.” His hands skim down my sides and back up, gliding over the satin with ease. “I like this a lot.”

He kisses me again and pushes me backwards into the wall. My fingers ache as I cling to the glasses and bottles being crushed between us.

Eager hands grope at every inch of me and eager lips taste the skin of my jaw and neck. “You bathed?” I nod in reply and he continues his ministrations. His lips trail down from my neck to my chest and bite and suck at the smooth curves of my breasts. “I want you. Right now.”

My mouth dries when he hooks my bare thigh over his hip and holds it there whilst claiming my lips again.

Then this awful feeling that I’m being watched sinks in and I realise where I am and what I’m wearing and what we’re doing.

“Stop,” I hiss and push him away with my foot on his stomach. Another perk of being flexible. I don’t need to use my hands for a lot of stuff if I don’t want to. “What about Elijah?”

“He’s a guy, he knows…” Max steps into my space again but I side step out of the way. “Don’t be boring.”

“Go get ready for bed,” I hiss quietly and give him a wide-eyed glare of insistence.

He salutes me, bites his lip as he scans my body again and races back into the room.

I quickly pad into the moonlit kitchen and place the glasses by the sink. I contemplate washing them but become distracted by the view of the garden in the night. Tiny twinkling lights hide deep in the plants and bushes. It looks magical. I smile at the sight of it, wishing I had my phone so I can take a picture.

“You don’t like me much, do you?” Elijah’s voice comes from behind me and scares the shit out of me. I almost jump out of my skin. My hand goes to my chest. “Sorry.” He doesn’t look sorry.

“Of course I do.” His eyes pan down, lower and lower, slowly dragging on the opening of my robe. I quickly tie it shut and he clears his throat and looks away, embarrassed to have been caught staring.

Pink flames his cheeks and his icy grey eyes avoid me. I want to move to him and touch him. I want to caress every single inch of his chest with the tips of my fingers and then my tongue.

“Do you feel as though I’m taking Max away from you?” He asks quickly, to change the subject no doubt. Hearing Max’s name come from his lips is as effective as a bucket of ice over my head, but I push away my guilt. It’s a useless emotion right now. I can’t feel sorry for myself when I’m the cause of all of this grief.

BOOK: Masked Definitions
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