The Perfect Life (26 page)

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Authors: Erin Noelle

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BOOK: The Perfect Life
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“She has her ways, when the desire is there, it’s amazing how easy it is to discover the information one needs. Batman should learn to be more careful of the evidence he leaves lying around his Batcave. He never knows who could be lurking around.”

Heated desire bloomed inside of me and I struggled to keep my smug poise. Although I knew from the beginning that Oliver was physically attracted to me and had felt our initial spark, I’d been worried he was going to completely shut me down, holding firm on his insistence that he didn’t want to involve himself with a married woman. Not that I would’ve blamed him . . . but damn it felt good knowing he was tired of ignoring whatever it was that was going on between us as well. I couldn’t hide from it any longer. The farther I tried to run, the closer I found myself to him. And I was ready to know once and for all.

“Maybe it’s the trouble I’ll cause while right under your nose you should be most worried about.” I smirked mischievously, proud of myself for conjuring up a witty remark in spite of the raging inferno that was now transforming my blood into liquid lust pulsing through my veins.

Spiderwoman the Bartender returned with my wine before he could reply, and I was grateful for the momentary break in the banter, as well as the cold, wet liquid to refresh my dry mouth. As I extended the twenty-dollar bill that was still in my hand out toward her, Oliver snatched it out of my grasp and shook his head. “All of Miss Ivy’s drinks go on my tab, Sheila,” he announced firmly before his tone turned playful. “Don’t let her try to sweet talk you otherwise either. Remember, that’s how she works—luring you into her trap with her breathtaking beauty and angelic voice—so you’ll think she’s sweet and innocent. But believe you me, she’s nothing of the kind.”

“Your wish is my command, Batman,” Sheila laughed and rolled her eyes at Oliver then moved down the bar to help the next person waiting for a fresh drink.

I extended my arm out to take my twenty back from him, but came up empty as he moved it out of my reach with a “
tsk tsk tsk”
and a shake of his head. “Hey! Give me my money back!” I exclaimed, nabbing at it again. And again, coming up empty-handed. “I thought you were supposed to be one of the good guys, not some bully and bossy Batman who lies and steals from defenseless women.”

Grabbing my shoulders, he gently but swiftly spun me around so that we were finally eye-to-eye, no longer allowing me to use the mirror as a buffer to the intensity that was radiating off of him. “Funny thing is, I always thought I was one of the good guys too.” His full lips quirked up into a lopsided grin, drawing my attention down to his mouth, chin, and jaw, where I first noticed he’d shaved off all of his facial hair. More than anything, I wanted to raise my hand to feel the smoothness of his olive skin, but he continued talking, so I kept still and listened, hanging on his every word.

“And then you walk through the door and knock my world off its axis, making me question every damn thing I thought I knew about myself.” He leaned down and rested his forehead to mine, mask-on-mask. “You make me want things I shouldn’t want.” He lifted the folded bill to my shoulder, softly dragging it across my collarbone and down my sternum until it dipped into the exposed cleavage. “You make me do things I shouldn’t do.” His voice was barely over a whisper, and even with the countless number of people surrounding us and the loud music, I heard every word. Sliding the money up over the swell of my left breast, he didn’t blink a single time as his saxophone-calloused fingers dipped under the satiny fabric and tucked the twenty away with the others. “You make me ask things I shouldn’t ask.”

My pulse spiked under his tantalizing touch as the playful undertone to our exchange suddenly shifted to something much more sensual and serious. “What are you asking?” I pressed him.

His Adam’s apple bobbed hard in his throat and I knew he was just as nervous as I was. But ultimately, the need and want outweighed the fears and doubts.

“Come home with me tonight?” he implored with a gaze filled with desperate desire that touched me deep in my core.

My heart stopped beating. There it was. The invitation I’d come for. Right there in front of me, mine for the taking. All I had to do was say yes.

One word that would change everything.

One word I couldn’t take back.

One word I wanted to say again and again.

“Yes.” The word fell from my lips on a ragged breath, and as a fiery blaze flickered inside Oliver’s molten amber eyes, I clenched my thighs together and whimpered. I had no idea what was happening to me, but I couldn’t control my body’s carnal responses to him.

I didn’t hear the noise with my ears, but I felt the vibrations of a deep growl in his chest, which was pressed against mine. “I need to go grab my things from the back and tell Danny I’m leaving. You stay right here and enjoy your glass of wine. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Wait,” I stopped him, grabbing his arm. “Aren’t you supposed to be playing the sax tonight? If you need to stay, I don’t mind waiting around or doing whatever your other groupies usually do until you’re finished.”

The fleeting look of fear that I’d changed my mind was promptly replaced with a smile that lit up his entire face, something I could tell even with his mask on. “Miss Ivy, I appreciate your concern for my responsibilities here at the club and for wanting to follow the expected protocol that my thousands of other groupies adhere to, but I think I can make an exception just this once.” Surprising me, he bent down and feathered his soft lips over mine then winked. “But only for you.”

Then, he was gone, snaking his way through the people toward a back hallway, and I was left standing there with the stupidest grin on my face and my fingertips touching my mouth, which was still tingling from his kiss. It was as if I was living in a dream-world, and not just because everyone around me was dressed up as legendary superheroes and infamous villains. Though it definitely added to the fairy-tale-type aura that hummed around me.

I couldn’t believe it was really happening. And even less, I couldn’t believe how confident I felt in my decision to allow it to happen. I knew Colin and I would be having a long conversation about guidelines and stipulations for mine and Oliver’s relationship in the coming days. After my husband and I made up from our first fight, he promised he’d consent to my exploring something with Oliver if I still felt that way after a while of getting to know him better, and if I agreed to specific rules to protect all of us. At the time, I told him that I appreciated his attempt to be open-minded on the matter, but that it didn’t matter, because Oliver had made it clear he didn’t want anything to happen between us.

However, the more time I spent with him, the more the desire grew and the deeper our connection entwined, but it was evident Oliver wasn’t going to make the first move. So it was up to me, although I hadn’t the first clue on how to go about letting someone know I was interested in having an affair with them. I mean, it wasn’t like I could bust out at work one day, “Can you please pass me those reports? Oh, and hey, after that, would you like to make out?”
Uh . . . no.

When I discovered the orange-and-black leaflet on the same day Colin had told me he’d be chaperoning a youth football overnight lock-in on Halloween night, I took it as a sign that it was time to act. And act I had, which was precisely what led me to that exact moment, where I stood in the middle of a bustling jazz bar, dressed in a miniscule dress with vines wrapped around my limbs and a glittery mask covering my face, waiting for a man who was not my husband to take me to his bed and show me how much
more
there was.

“I will love you,

not starting with

your skin or

your organs or

your bones:

I will love madly first,

your naked soul.”

–Christopher Poindexter

Oliver

NEITHER OF US
said a single word during the short ten minute walk in the chilly October night from the club to my apartment building, though she clung to my hand through our interlaced fingers like she was afraid I’d change my mind before we got there. But that wasn’t even close to the path my thoughts were headed down. No, I was all-fucking-in the second I realized she’d come to Riff’s . . . for
me.
It said everything I needed to know about the way she felt, and integrity and morals be damned. I figured we’d deal with the other shit later. And by
shit
, I was well aware it was going to be a whole fuck-load of crazy-ass shit, but I could no longer deny myself the one thing I wanted more than anything else in my life.
Her.

The overwhelming hunger inside me intensified with every step I took, suppressing my nerves and inhibitions, and by the time I found my keys with trembling fingers and swung the door open, I was a man possessed. I couldn’t wait another second to touch her, to feel her, and to please her until she screamed my name.

Two steps into the foyer, I had her coat off and her back against the textured sheetrock as my mouth crashed down on hers in a passionate, almost frantic kiss. I traced her lips with my tongue, and she responded immediately by parting them and granting me full access to explore her sweet, sweet mouth. I soon realized the memory of our first kiss that I’d jacked off to on countless occasions didn’t hold a flame to the raw beauty of experiencing it firsthand. Like everything else Monroe Cassidy did, she was undeniably exceptional at kissing, making it seem like the way our tongues effortlessly stroked and caressed each other was a product of years and years of practice.

Our agitated fingers clawed at the fabric of our costumes as we stayed locked at the lips, neither of us wanting to break contact quite yet, despite the difficulty it made in stripping off our clothes. She found the zipper at the base of my neck and dragged it down my spine with lightning fast speed, helping me peel my chest and arms out of the bulky, neoprene-like bodysuit as I nipped gently along her swollen bottom lip. My hands skimmed up her ribcage and over the swell of her breasts, only tangling in the foliage sewn into and around her costume once—which I considered a feat in and of itself until I reached her smooth, milky white skin that was dusted in glitter. The combination of my feral rumbles and her tiny little moans and whimpers echoed off the tile floor in the small entryway, arousing my already over-stimulated senses even more than they were. My cock was harder than I’d ever thought possible, and I was quickly losing control.

“Damn, baby,” I swore as I ripped my mouth from hers and took a step back, gasping for breath. It was too much at once. My body was a livewire ready to detonate. “Unless you want me to make a mess of this costume I rented and be forced to pay some outrageous dry cleaning bill, then I gotta take a minute to cool down. Plus, I want you in my bed, where I can take care of you the way you deserve, not like a heathen against a wall.” Leaning in, I pressed my lips to the corner of her mouth and murmured, “Follow me to the Bat Cave, where all the Bat Magic happens.”

“God, you’re a goofball sometimes,” she chuckled as she kissed me back and grabbed my hand, allowing me to lead the way.

My chest swelled with pure fucking happiness as I guided her through the apartment that she knew as well as I did to my bedroom, knowing that whatever happened afterward, whatever penance I had to pay for my wrongdoing, it would be worth every damn minute and more. Because I had not just fallen in love with Monroe’s selfless heart, intelligent mind, and gorgeous face and body, I worshipped her soul—the very essence of her being. She was it for me. No one before and no one after would ever compare. And all I could do was treasure the time I was blessed with her, and whatever would happen in the future would happen. Good or bad, I’d deal with the consequences when I had to, but for that moment in time, I just said, “Fuck it,” and took her as mine, because in my heart of hearts, I truly believed she was.

As soon as we were inside the spacious master bedroom, lit only by the street lamp outside the blinds, she began tugging at my jumpsuit again, trying to work it down over my hips, eager to pick up where we’d left off. Grabbing her hands, I moved them down to her sides and shook my head. With my hand under her chin, I lifted her gaze away from my half-dressed body and up to meet mine—though, I must admit I appreciated the way she was staring at my abs and licking her lips. But right then, there was something I needed to do before we went any further.

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