Masked Definitions (23 page)

“God yes,” I moan, tingles coursing through me. “Do that again.”

I gasp when he rips my favourite thong and pulls it down one leg so it hangs above my knee like a fallen garter. Then he lifts me and sits my arse on the edge of the desk before desperately, without a second’s hesitation, plunging into me. The painful burn as my body adjusts is the best feeling I’ve ever felt. I inhale a sharp breath, feeling winded and euphoric all at once.

“I love this feeling,” he says, groaning loudly as he thrusts into my wet and ready body. He hits my clit with every deep push, grinding against it the second he sheathes himself to the hilt. His arm holds me so tightly, almost desperately, and his face goes to my neck.

“And…” He groans and I feel him pulsing inside, spilling his seed deep into me. Just the feel of his powerful climax sends me over. “And…” He repeats, thrusting wildly. “I love you.” His mouth goes to mine. My orgasm reaches its peak and I cry out with it.

Holy
fuck.

“You love me.” I pant, pulsing around him, disoriented from that major fucking explosion.

“I’m under your spell,” he whispers into my ear. “I’m yours and only yours.”

“You love me.” I grin, letting out a hiccup of happiness. “I want to go again.”

“Right now?” He laughs, tensing his still hard cock inside of me.

Holy
fuck.

But then the illusion is broken because the door handle is yanked down and Penelope’s voice carries through the heavy, beautifully carved wood, “Elijah! You open this door right now!”

“Oh… shit.” We both pull away and right our clothing. “Can’t we just ignore her? Will she go away?”

“She has a key.” He curses under his breath and quickly tears the other half of my thong off before stuffing it into his pocket. Just as he does this, I hear a key enter the lock, and scramble to tug up my jeans which is proving difficult with a broken arm.

“Help,” I whisper, relieved when the key leaves the lock. She must have put the wrong key in. As soon as it vanishes, another enters, but Elijah has my jeans up and is buttoning them. He rushes to his chair as I move to the window and smooth my hair.

Then the door opens and just when I thought we’d fooled her she screeches, “You have got to be kidding me?”

“Bollocks,” Elijah curses when Penelope charges into the room, leaving the door open behind her.

“You?” She asks me, looking extremely pissed off.

“I don’t…”

“Oh don’t you dare lie to me! You think I can’t tell when my husband has just been having sex? This room stinks of it!” She spins to face Elijah, who is swiftly moving to lock the door. “Well isn’t this humiliating?” She spins back to me. “And I hate that I was nice to you. I did your bloody nails! You wore my clothes!”

“Should I leave?” I ask Elijah, unsure how to deal with this.

“No,” he states firmly and beckons for me to move closer. “Penelope will be going as soon as she’s done yelling at us. I should call for tea.”

“Oh choke on it, Elijah,” she hisses and glares at me. “Were you fucking him the entire time I was nice to you?”

“I think so.” I admit, trying not to wince.

“Figures.” She laughs humourlessly. “Proud of yourself, are you husband?”

“Very.” He winds his arm around my shoulders and pulls me languidly into his side as if we are alone and relaxed, not in the middle of a huge argument with his wife. What is he doing? What if she tells Max? “Why are you here, Penelope?”

“To discuss these ridiculous terms with you. I only get ten percent?”

“It’s more than you deserve.”

“You’re fucking your brother’s wife! Don’t you dare judge me!”

It’s Elijah’s turn to laugh humourlessly. “You fucked my sister’s husband… when she was fucking pregnant. Don’t you dare disallow me to judge you, and let me remind you that if you breathe a word of this to anyone…” Pregnant? I don’t remember anyone mentioning a child…

“Her husband doesn’t have a clue then, I take it?” Penelope sways the conversation onto me.

“It’s complicated,” I admit sadly and look away from her probing gaze.

“It always is. Cut him loose and make a choice before you lose both of them.” She’s offering me advice now? Did she love Elijah at all?

“I’ve already made my choice,” I tell her, even though I don’t have to. “I’m sorry for breaking the sisterhood.”

She laughs for real this time. “Whatever the fuck that means.” Then she sobers and shoots daggers at Elijah. “Give me half or I won’t go quietly.”

“You’ll get ten percent or you’ll get nothing. If you choose to attempt to destroy our reputations, I’ll be certain to bat that ball straight back over to your side of the court and make it so you have nothing to bat it back with. Shall we discuss the meeting you had with my father only a few nights prior to our betrothal?”

Her mouth drops open. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Though the way her cheeks flush with pink and her eyes look away with shame, I know that she knows what he knows. I just wish I knew what they know.

My head hurts.

“Ten percent is plenty.”

“For putting up with you for this long, it’s not nearly enough.” The venom in her tone counteracts the tears swimming in her eyes. “And don’t you ever…
ever
talk to me about that meeting again. Are we clear?”

I sense something bad here. Something really bad.

However, I don’t get a chance to comment as Elijah responds, “Crystal.” He leads her to the door.

“Wait here for me to return,” he says softly and then, right in front of Penelope, he kisses me so tenderly on the lips I’m torn between melting with love and being angry that he’d be so bold. I don’t know whether to smile or scowl. He turns away, leaving me dazed in the doorway.

I skip to his desk and neaten it for him as I wait.

Holy fuck…

We just got caught. My heart is still racing in my chest.

I have
definitely
had enough thrill to last a lifetime.

I hover in the doorway to the games room. My body trembles lightly as I stare at my husband who seems too focused on his game to sense my presence.

“Max,” I call softly, though he doesn’t hear me. “Max.”

“Huh?” Pausing the game, he looks at me dazedly for a moment before placing the controller on the ground and standing. “You’re back.”

“I’ve come to call a truce.”

His eyes narrow. “Truce?”

“I’ll stop being such a bitch if you start going to therapy and taking your medication again.”

A sharp laugh escapes him. “I don’t fucking need it.” He points at me. “Maybe
you
do.”

“If you love her, you’ll do as she asks.” Elijah’s presence warms my back. I jolt when I feel his hand glide down my back.

Is he INSANE?

I shift away and clear my throat.

“What has she told you?” Max’s tone holds no small amount of malice.

“Nothing. It was I who approached her about your increasingly alarming behaviour.”

“You’re still pissed about me grabbing her arm yesterday. I told you I forgot it was broken,” he argues, rolling his eyes.

“A man who loves his woman doesn’t forget about her broken arm.”

“Yeah, I know.” For a moment I see regret shine in Max’s eyes, followed by the slumping of his shoulders. “The tablets make it hard for me to concentrate. They make me feel nauseous and my doctor won’t give me any more and my therapist is a cunt. She just asks me the same shit over and over again.”

“We’ll get you a new doctor, some better pills and a private psychoanalyst to figure out how best to calm your moods.” Elijah suggests and I’m surprised when Max not only doesn’t argue but asks, “Will they be able to help?”

“Only if you want them to.” Elijah responds almost gently, as though talking to a child instead of a fully-grown man, which I guess is perfect for Max’s level of maturity. “Do you want the help, Max?”

Max glances at me. “If it means she’ll love me again, then yeah.”

I feel Elijah tense at my back and my eyes burn at the words of the man I married. I see now just how deeply my indifference to him has been affecting him. When he gets upset he gets aggressive. He doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions and he shifts the blame elsewhere. It’s a defence mechanism against the hurt he feels and now, looking back, I feel like a bitch. If I’d treated a mentally stable man the way I have treated my husband, he’d be equally upset. He’d just be showing it in a different way.

It seems Max and I have both been in the wrong. We’ve both been blaming each other.

“I just want you better, Max,” I tell him. Regardless of my sudden realisations, I don’t wish to continue with this marriage but I do genuinely want him to get well.

“Whatever then, just let me know where to go and I’ll be there,” he reluctantly says and holds out his hand to me. “Want to watch a movie?”

Not wanting to upset him during such a vulnerable time, I nod. “I’ll go and grab some snacks.”

He grins. Elijah lingers for only moments before following me into the kitchen.

“So now you just go back to playing happy families?” He hisses as we walk down the hall. I love and hate that he’s jealous.

“Until he’s okay,” I say carefully, wishing it didn’t have to be this way. “You understand… right?”

We stop just inside of the kitchen. Mildred isn’t around so I can only assume she has left.

Elijah backs me against the wall and trails the back of his hand down my cheek. “I understand… I just hate it.”

We are ripped from the moment when footsteps sound in the long hallway. Elijah steps away and I make quick work of gathering snacks.

Before he leaves the kitchen, he winks and casts a wistful glance at the bag of crisps in my hands as if longing to be the one to share them with me. Or maybe that’s just my imagination.

*****

As the week wears on, I ache more and more for the evenings. I hate that every single moment that I spend with my husband is a lie. When I’m when with him, I always want to be elsewhere and I hate myself for that.

Elijah was true to his word and has Max in daily therapy sessions.

Daily.

He goes before he begins work. I can’t tell if Max actually needs the daily therapy or if Elijah has done it this way so that we get an extra hour together in the evenings.

We haven’t been apart all week, though Elijah has been gone in the days. I think our late nights are starting to get to him because as I rub his shoulders and neck, as he pores over a file on his desk, I see his head begin to drop as if sleeping.

Leaning forward so my breasts brush his shoulders, I nibble on the lobe of his ear and his head soon rises again. He turns slightly and kisses me on the lips. I squeal with glee when he tugs me onto his lap, mindful of my arm, and just holds me to his chest.

“I need you to sign another NDA agreement soon.” He seems regretful.

“Why?”

“My solicitor has suggested it to protect us both in case of any falling out.”

My lips part. At first I’m offended but then I see reason behind his words. He hardly knows me and he’s sacrificing so much to be with me. I can’t not grant him his request. “Sure.”

“Just like that?”

I nod and nudge his jaw with my nose so I can press my forehead into his neck. “Just like that.”

“Would you mind signing them now?” He opens a drawer to his desk and pulls out a large, pale blue envelope. “Just to get them over with.”

No time like the present. “Slide them this way.”

Turning, I sit with my legs parted over his thighs and my arse to his groin. His hands come around me and open the envelope. I stare at the title on the top. It seems to be a standard non-disclosure agreement, but I still read it through anyway.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so exhausted and horny in all my life,” Elijah says against my neck as his hands thread through the strands of my hair. Shivers tickle along my spine. I love having my hair played with by him. I also love it when he licks my neck with just the tip of his tongue. “Let’s go to bed.”

“I’m reading,” I giggle, shuddering when an intense tingle cuts through my body. “Stop.”

“You have the most girlish laugh.” His fingers begin to dig into my sides. I hate being tickled but I cannot stop laughing. It’s the worst form of torture.

“STOP!” I beg and he finally does. I tap his knuckles with my pen.

“Well hurry up then.” He grinds his groin into my arse as his idle hands rest on my hips.

Rolling my eyes, I quickly scan through the pages and sign each one at the bottom. I’m not going to say anything to anybody anyway. I don’t have anyone to say it to, unless you count my mum and we only speak once a month or so.

“Finally.” He nudges me to my feet and lifts me into his arms. I grin as he carries me to my room and places me on the bed. His body soon covers mine and settles on me, despite the fact he weighs a lot more than me. I stroke his back and gently tease his hair.

After a moment, I hear his faint snoring and cannot keep the smile from my face.

“I do love you, you know?” I whisper against his cheek before giving him a shove so he rolls onto his side. My body naturally curls into his. I fit so perfectly against his chest and not once in my entire life have I ever felt as safe as I do with him. “But you can’t sleep here.”

He grunts but says nothing, only holds me tighter. I set an alarm on my phone just in case.

“I’m leaving Max,” I say, a coffee cup between my palms.

My mum looks at me, surprise in her eyes. “So that’s why you’ve asked to meet?”

I nod.

“You want my help?”

I shake my head. “I just… I just want you to be aware.”

“Well, text me the second it happens.” She reaches over the table and takes my hand. “It’s about time, Olivia. He’ll only end up killing you.”

Tears blur my vision. It has been too long since I properly saw my mum and too long since I held her hand. “I just want my life back. I want you back.”

“I’m always here; I never left. It’s you that never comes to see me.”

She’s not wrong. Even after what Max did to her, she always tried to keep in touch. I was just so ashamed of myself for bringing so much drama into her life.

“Does this mean I’ll get to see you more?”

I nod, smiling despite my tears. “If you want to.”

“Of course. Just don’t bring Max.”

She doesn’t need to tell me twice.

“He’s sick,” I whisper. “He’s getting worse every day.”

“Come home; we’ll move somewhere. I’ll keep you safe.”

More tears fall. “Don’t be so nice when I’ve been so rotten.”

“Honey, I’m not going to pretend and say that I understand because I don’t, not fully. I get that you’re with him to protect yourself and me, but I’m not afraid of him…”

“It’s not just you. He’s a ticking time bomb.” I shudder and wipe my tears away on a napkin. “He’s dangerous. He’ll do whatever he can to keep me and I don’t even know why. We don’t even…” I look out of the window, shame in my eyes. “We aren’t even intimate anymore. I can’t… I can’t stand him.”

“He didn’t do that to your arm did he?”

“No.” I blow out a breath. “That’s an honest work thing. A pallet of boxes fell and trapped my arm.”

She winces and grits her teeth. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

“Have we become so distant that I don’t even know when my baby girl has had an accident?”

I look away again, not daring to meet her eyes that are so like my own. “I’ll fix this. I want my life back.”

“I’m proud of you.”

This time I do look at her, disbelief my most prominent feeling.

“I’m serious.” Her hand goes to her heart. “You’re such a strong, determined young lady. You’ve put up with a lot selflessly because you’re worried how your choices will affect others.”

I don’t see it that way but I daren’t argue and ruin the mood. I finish my coffee, stand and hug the woman who raised me so perfectly that I have no complaints.

“Don’t be a stranger. I miss you.” She begs. Her hold on me is tight. “I’m only an hour away.”

“I love you. I’ll fix this.”

“Just be safe and happy; that’s all that I want.”

I hug her back equally as tight, glad that we finally had this meeting, and then I pull free. “I’ll call you.”

“Ditto,” she agrees. “You need to do your driving lessons so that you can come and see me more and,” pause, “escape if you need to.”

She isn’t wrong. There’s nothing stopping me. I have the money to do it and the time. Am I ready? Gaining such a large amount of freedom and independence is quite daunting. I’ve always held myself back for fear of upsetting Max, but not anymore.

“I’m going to book my first lesson the second I get home.”

“I wish I could come and see the mansion you’re living in.”

“Me too.” I walk her to her car and the light spray of rain hits us like a mist of water, drenching us almost immediately.

“Are you sure I can’t give you a ride?”

“No.” I point to the black BMW parked across the road and smile when I see Elijah in the front seat. “I’m sorted.”

“Oh how the other half live,” she comments, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “I love you, Chicken.”

“Love you too.”

Mindful of the heavy traffic, I cross the road and climb into the passenger seat of my chariot. “You came. I was expecting Rob.”

“Who?”

“Your driver.”

“Oh.” He blinks, seeming confused. “I thought his name was Gary.”

“That’s the security guard’s name that stands by the entrance.”

“Oh.” He places his hand on my thigh and turns towards me. “I have to go and sort a few things at the clubs. I thought maybe you’d like to come?”

Excitement fills me. “I’d love to.”

“You sure?” He seems surprised that I’ve said yes.

“Unless you don’t want me to? I don’t mind…”