Masked Indulgence

by Michelle Love

  They headed out and down to the Foggy Dew, Ellie wanting a change from Carmel’s, claiming a table from a departing couple. Sam brought their drinks over to the table, dripping foam everywhere.

  “So, obvious question,” she said when they were settled. “Were you born here?”

  “At the Rotunda, thirty-nine years ago next week. Despite rumors, the sky didn’t darken,” he grinned. “Doug was born in Galway, then five years later, oops, mistake, I come along. My parents didn’t plan for more than one, but I think they’re happy enough.”

  “Are you close to them?” He made a so-so gesture with his hand.

  “I love them, of course, but they enjoy not having us around much, you know, telling them what to do. They like their independence, what can you do?” He sighed dramatically and made a face, and she laughed.

  “I never knew mine,” she explained, “but that’s okay. In my head, they were wonderfully exotic, you know, the brooding yet surreally comical Irishman who fell in love with a Portuguese strumpet, who painted erotica for the elderly.” She stopped and grinned as he broke into chuckles, “Hey, I never said they were perfect in my head!’

  “Do you know anything about them at all?” “Not much They died before I was old enough to remember them. Then I lived in a children’s home until I was five or six, can’t remember exactly, then Aoife kind of adopted me. Carmel was already living with her then; she’s six years older than me.”

  “Kind of?” He looked surprised, and she grinned guiltily.

  “Let’s just say, I don’t think it was ever made official. Well, for a start, I know more about my history than most legitimately adopted people do. My parents, where I was born, my real name.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Your real name? Isn’t Ellie short for Eleanor?”

  She shook her head. “No, Ellie is short for Eliana. It’s a Portuguese variation of Helen, somewhere along the line.”

  They chatted easily, sharing brief snippets of each other’s history. Somehow, during that time, Sam’s hand drifted upwards and stroked her cheek. Ellie leaned into his touch.

  “Ellie,” he said softly, “I know this is wrong, that we’ve known each other hours rather than days, but when I’m with you, all I want to do is …”

  Ellie leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, silencing him. They kissed slowly, deeply, until she pulled away, breathless. “I’m sorry, I had to do that. It’s all I could think of.”

  He slid his hands onto her face. “Where did you come from, Ellie Aherne?” He bent his head to kiss her again. She tasted so sweet he could hardly bear it. “Ellie … come home with me now.” He felt her nod and silently, he stood and offered her his hand. Ellie gazed up at him, her eyes shining. God … this woman … this woman …

  Joe’s fury knew no bounds. His jealousy rose up in him, a tide of vicious hate. He watched her leave, angry with her, raging at her betrayal. Another man. For this, he would make her suffer unimaginable pain. Nodding to the barman, he followed them at a distance—he should have known that writer, that fucker, wanted to put his filthy hands on Joe’s woman. He followed them back to a small house in Rathmines and watched her go in with McMahon. He toyed with the idea of kicking the door in, wanting to beat the hell out of them both. Instead, he turned and strode out purposefully back into the city. There was time enough for revenge.

  Sam’s hands were shaking as he slid the straps of her dress down her shoulders. “Are you sure, my angel?” he whispered, and she nodded. Never had she felt this torrent of pure desire for anyone, but now, with this glorious man, she let herself go. Screw the rest of the world, she wanted him now.

  Her fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt then, laughing softly, he stepped back and pulled it over his head. She grinned at him. “Efficient.”

  “I know.” He caught her mouth with his, and they kissed as they stripped each other slowly. God, the feel of a gentle, sexy man’s hands on her bare skin; she gasped as his fingers sought out her sex, rubbing gently as his other hand came up to cup the back of her neck.

  “Ellie,” he murmured, and she moaned at the love in his voice. She slid her hands down to his cock, thick and proud against his belly, and she stroked it until it was quivering and pulsing.

  Sam lowered her gently onto the bed and pushed her legs apart. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said with a smile, and she grinned as he covered her body with his, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  “I want you inside me,” she said, and Sam kissed her and slid his cock deep into her ready and damp cunt. Ellie moaned—God, they fit each other perfectly as she had known they would—his cock thrusting deeper into her with every stroke. They moved in sync, belly to belly, lips to lips, and when Ellie’s back arched up sharply and she gasped her climax, she felt Sam’s cock pumping hard into her, his cum, his seed deep in her belly. As they collapsed, Sam still inside her, she wanted to beg him to never move from this place.

  Eventually, after making love for hours, they dressed and ate pizza. Ellie told Sam she was leaving Joe. “This, today, has shown me what I want, and it isn’t Joe.” She looked at him shyly. “Not that I have any expectations, Sam, please don’t feel pressured. I’m going to move in with Carmel tonight.”

  He stroked her face. “I don’t feel pressured, my love, not at all. In fact, I’m damned happy. You are welcome to come here, you know?”

  She smiled and stroked his face. “You’re sweet, but nothing destroys a budding relationship like moving too fast. I’ll move in with Carmel, and we’ll go from there.”

  “What will Joe do?”

  She shrugged. “This is going to sound heartless, but I really don’t care. It’s been over for months. Shitty timing with Christmas, I know, but it’s the best for everyone.”

  “At least come spend Christmas day with me. Do you promise?”

  She smiled and kissed him. “That I can promise.”

  After he called her a cab and kissed her goodbye, he went back into his warm home. Wow. Just wow. His whole life had changed in a few hours and yet somehow, it had seemed inevitable from the moment they’d met.

  Midnight on Christmas Eve and Sam was beginning to think she wasn’t coming. He went to bed eventually and was startled when he felt her slide into bed with him. He turned over to see her smiling at him. “Hey, baby.”

  He smiled, but his brow creased. “How did you get in?”

  She silenced him with her mouth, kissing him deeply, and they began to make love. This time, they were desperate for each other, clawing at one another. Sam’s mind, body, and senses were overtaken by his desire for this woman and in the misty, midnight light of his bedroom, they explored each other’s bodies and made love well into the morning light.

  In the morning, Sam woke and watched her sleep for a while before sliding out of bed. Breakfast in bed for my girl, he thought with a smile. He noticed the front door was a little open. Ha, he grinned, shutting it. I must have left it ajar unconsciously, waiting for her.

  He switched his coffee machine on and flicked the TV on, muting the sound so he would wake her. Sound carried in this small house. He hummed to himself as he prepared fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, and freshly baked rolls, occasionally glancing at the TV.

  A flashing image caught his eye. Police cars. The banner scrolling across the bottom read “Christmas Eve Murder.' He turned the volume up.

  “… The young woman, who hasn’t yet been identified, was found with multiple stab wounds around midnight last night. She was transported to St. James’ Hospital but died shortly after arrival. A man, who has been identified locally as Joseph Haynes, has been arrested and charged with her murder …”

  Sam dropped the mug of coffee he was holding as shots of Ellie’s apartment were shown. Sam watched in horror as a black body bag was carried out of the home, lit by red and blue flashing lights. Joe was handcuffed and smirking as he was pushed into the back of a police car.

  Sam knew, as sure as he could ever be, that Ellie was dead. Murdere
d by Joe.

  So who the hell was upstairs?

  “It’s still me.”

  He spun around to see her in front of him. Ellie smiled at him. “I told you I would leave him and I did.”

  Sam walked to her and touched her cheek, only now noticing that it was as cold as the frost on the window. His mind reeled from grief and confusion. “He killed you.”

  She nodded. “I didn’t even see the knife in his hand, it was over so quickly. Vicious, brutal … he had planned it. He knew I was leaving him. The last thing he said was that he would never let you have me. He didn’t count on this.”

  She kissed him, her cold lips soft against his. “You showed me more love in three days than he ever did. Maybe that’s why I can still be here, still be with you. I don’t know how long it will last or what happens next, but for now, I’m here.”

  Sam felt his heart constrict and shatter and he bowed his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “I just found you ... how can you be gone?”

  He felt her cold hands on his face. “I’ll never be gone as long as you love me.”

  He looked up into her warm eyes. “And I do, Ellie, I do love you … I’ll love you forever …”

  RTS Television Studios, Dublin, 2013 …

  The host smiled at Sam kindly. “Now, it’s been nineteen years since your seminal book, Love and its Darkness, was published, and the book is now a go-to for many a police investigation. Your focus on the Ellie Aherne murder case, in particular, touched a lot of people, and indeed you have included some of her work in your book. Joseph Hynes is currently serving a life sentence for Ellie’s horrific murder, and he is still insisting that there’s no way those sketches are by Ellie, that she died before she started work on your book. What do you say to him?”

  Sam, his blue eyes twinkling, nodded. “I think Joseph Haynes is a bitter man who resents the fact that Ellie and I were close. I wanted her legacy to live on, and I can assure you, those sketches are her work.”

  The host smiled, clearly not wanting to get into an argument. This was just a segment to waste some time on the news, after all. She eyed the handsome man in front of her. Age had not diminished Sam McMahon’s looks; rather, it had enhanced them. “And what about you, Sam? You’ve always been very cagey about your private life. Do you have anybody special?”

  Sam’s smile widened, and his eyes softened. “I do, indeed, Joan. I have the most wonderful woman in the world.”

  The host looked vaguely disappointed. “And have you got plans for Christmas?”

  “Oh, yes,” and he looked directly into the television camera, knowing his beloved Ellie would be watching at home, that she was more real to him now than ever after all this time. “We’ll be having a quiet holiday season, especially now that it looks like a white Christmas. We have a tradition, the two of us, every time the weather is bad, a tradition we’ve kept up for years.”

  He smiled to himself. The host looked curious. “And what is that?”

  Sam gave a relaxed sigh and laughed softly. “We make snow angels …”

  The End

  About the author

  Michelle Love writes about smart, sexy women and the hot alpha billionaires who love them. She has found her own happily ever after with her dream husband and adorable 2 year old.

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