Read Online Masked Definitions by A. E. Murphy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A. E. Murphy
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owe me this thong.”
“You’ll get it,” I respond, wanting nothing more than to rush home and fuck the one man I’m allowed, though my guilt suddenly outweighs my lust when I realise my sinful intentions. I was about to return home and fuck my husband while pretending he was another man. It doesn’t get more twisted than that.
Stepping out of my fallen underwear, I rest back against the pole and watch as the Duke straightens himself and fixes his tie. Again, like the last time, he doesn’t look at me.
He scoops up his empty wallet, stuffs it into his trousers and, without a word, he strides out of the room and lets the door shut behind him.
“FUCK!” I yell and look for something to throw, but find nothing as there’s nothing in here that could be deemed unsafe to the client and the slut. The slut being me.
‘No hard feelings. As promised, keep the ninety percent.
Rick X’
Is written on a piece of paper and stuck to the mirror in my dressing room.
I take it from the mirror and toss it into the bin.
Max has finally gotten a new job at the train station; he’ll be a security guard on the platform at night. This is amazing news for me because now we’ll have more time together in the days and he’ll be less likely to find out what I actually do for a living. I also feel like this may be the work of a certain new family member that Max seems to have adopted.
A certain family member that I have been going to great lengths to avoid for the past week as he and Max have met twice now and seem to be hitting it off great. Max is constantly in a good mood.
Unfortunately for me, we’ve been formally invited.
Formally.
By invitation and everything....
We’re supposed to attend a dinner hosted by Elijah Graham George Henderson and his wife, Penelope Sarah Henderson.
Yes… Penelope. I didn’t realise that name actually existed beyond TV and books.
I should just kill myself now to save God the trouble of smiting me for being a backstabbing, two faced, home wrecking slut.
I wince at the thought. For one, I’m not a big believer in God and two, after what Max did to himself, I shouldn’t joke about committing suicide. For now I’ll keep living and stop being so dramatic.
Speaking of living, I’m heading to an estate agent to take a look at the houses for sale. It’s pretty useless as I don’t have the money to buy one yet and I won’t for a while, but a girl can window shop.
The houses in and around York are beautiful. I love the fact that the city and surrounding areas have kept so much of their history.
Max : I just got off the phone with Wilson. They’re bringing the dinner forward by an hour. I said it’s fine.
Olivia : It is, I took the night off work as you know.
Max : I’m looking forward to it.
Olivia : Good. :-)
Max : Where are you? What time are you going to be home? I hate waking up to an empty house.
Olivia : I’m just at the estate agents around the corner, looking at houses we can’t afford.
Max : Want me to meet you?
Olivia : No, I’m coming back now.
Max : Okay. We need milk and sugar.
I look at the bag by my side and smile.
Olivia : I beat you to the punch.
I head home, bag in hand, and inhale deeply. I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Not that anyone can blame me for that. Actually, I suppose they could. I just don’t know how I’m going to handle seeing a client’s wife up close and personal. What if she expects us to be friends?
I’m a good actress, I always have been. I can handle this. I can fake it.
I want to cry.
Now I have an hour less to prepare myself mentally.
Taking a calming breath, I trudge home and find Max on the couch in his boxers and dressing gown, watching some TV series. He smiles and blows a kiss at me as I pass him and place the milk into the fridge and tip the sugar into the sugar container.
“Your nose is pink,” he says just as I rub the cold tip on my sleeve to
“You’ll get it,” I respond, wanting nothing more than to rush home and fuck the one man I’m allowed, though my guilt suddenly outweighs my lust when I realise my sinful intentions. I was about to return home and fuck my husband while pretending he was another man. It doesn’t get more twisted than that.
Stepping out of my fallen underwear, I rest back against the pole and watch as the Duke straightens himself and fixes his tie. Again, like the last time, he doesn’t look at me.
He scoops up his empty wallet, stuffs it into his trousers and, without a word, he strides out of the room and lets the door shut behind him.
“FUCK!” I yell and look for something to throw, but find nothing as there’s nothing in here that could be deemed unsafe to the client and the slut. The slut being me.
‘No hard feelings. As promised, keep the ninety percent.
Rick X’
Is written on a piece of paper and stuck to the mirror in my dressing room.
I take it from the mirror and toss it into the bin.
Max has finally gotten a new job at the train station; he’ll be a security guard on the platform at night. This is amazing news for me because now we’ll have more time together in the days and he’ll be less likely to find out what I actually do for a living. I also feel like this may be the work of a certain new family member that Max seems to have adopted.
A certain family member that I have been going to great lengths to avoid for the past week as he and Max have met twice now and seem to be hitting it off great. Max is constantly in a good mood.
Unfortunately for me, we’ve been formally invited.
Formally.
By invitation and everything....
We’re supposed to attend a dinner hosted by Elijah Graham George Henderson and his wife, Penelope Sarah Henderson.
Yes… Penelope. I didn’t realise that name actually existed beyond TV and books.
I should just kill myself now to save God the trouble of smiting me for being a backstabbing, two faced, home wrecking slut.
I wince at the thought. For one, I’m not a big believer in God and two, after what Max did to himself, I shouldn’t joke about committing suicide. For now I’ll keep living and stop being so dramatic.
Speaking of living, I’m heading to an estate agent to take a look at the houses for sale. It’s pretty useless as I don’t have the money to buy one yet and I won’t for a while, but a girl can window shop.
The houses in and around York are beautiful. I love the fact that the city and surrounding areas have kept so much of their history.
Max : I just got off the phone with Wilson. They’re bringing the dinner forward by an hour. I said it’s fine.
Olivia : It is, I took the night off work as you know.
Max : I’m looking forward to it.
Olivia : Good. :-)
Max : Where are you? What time are you going to be home? I hate waking up to an empty house.
Olivia : I’m just at the estate agents around the corner, looking at houses we can’t afford.
Max : Want me to meet you?
Olivia : No, I’m coming back now.
Max : Okay. We need milk and sugar.
I look at the bag by my side and smile.
Olivia : I beat you to the punch.
I head home, bag in hand, and inhale deeply. I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Not that anyone can blame me for that. Actually, I suppose they could. I just don’t know how I’m going to handle seeing a client’s wife up close and personal. What if she expects us to be friends?
I’m a good actress, I always have been. I can handle this. I can fake it.
I want to cry.
Now I have an hour less to prepare myself mentally.
Taking a calming breath, I trudge home and find Max on the couch in his boxers and dressing gown, watching some TV series. He smiles and blows a kiss at me as I pass him and place the milk into the fridge and tip the sugar into the sugar container.
“Your nose is pink,” he says just as I rub the cold tip on my sleeve to
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