Unfaithful (The Complete Trilogy)

by Clancy, Joanne

  "Perfect," he breathed as she stopped in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She gazed limpidly into his eyes, a languid smile spreading across her face. She ran her fingers through his thick hair and traced the contours of his face with her full lips. Then she slowly kissed every part of his face before resting on his mouth where she placed a butterfly kiss before gently parting his lips with her warm, wet tongue.

  She ran her fingers down the length of his body, flicking over his nipples and made her way inside his trousers. He immediately sprung to attention at her touch. He grew harder and longer as her hands played with him and moaned at her touch. He wanted her there and then. He grabbed her buttocks and pushed her to the floor, not caring how rough he was being with her. She spread her long legs wide for him and he quickly sank into her warm, welcoming wetness. She cried out as he rammed himself high into her. He kissed her urgently and sucked her nipples hard. She bucked and thrust beneath him.

  "Harder!" she cried. She began to shake against him, until she exploded into a perfect orgasm. He held her tighter against himself, thrusting himself deeper and deeper into her, until his own pleasure was spent. Afterwards, they lay there on the floor, panting with their exertions.

  Eventually, Penelope broke the silence, "take me out on Saturday night," she demanded, propping herself up on one elbow and brushing her hair out of her eyes.

  Mark rolled over, "I can't baby, family commitments, I'm afraid," he said quickly, as he remembered that he had a rendezvous already arranged with Jackie for Saturday night. "Sunday?" she asked, hating the quiet note of desperation that she could hear creeping into her own voice.

  "I don't think so," Mark replied stiffly, starting to feel a bit awkward. He knew he'd have to spend Sunday with Rebecca, whether he wanted to or not as he'd been neglecting her recently and had spent very little time with her. He didn't want her suspecting anything about his liaisons. He got to his feet and headed to the bathroom, avoiding eye contact with Penelope.

  "Don't you walk away from me!" Penelope shrieked as she jumped effortlessly to her feet.

  He swung round quickly and saw her face was distorted and bright red with temper. She marched up to him and looked him directly in the eye.

  "I'm not some slut who you can fuck whenever you feel like it and then cast aside when you are done!" she hissed at him, her face ugly with anger. Her eyes were narrowed and shining. Mark was taken aback by the ferocity of her reaction.

  "Baby, you know I'm married, you knew it from the beginning," he tried to explain.

  "I couldn't care less about your marriage!" she spat at him. "You knew you were married before you started flirting with me. Your marriage is your problem, your responsibility, not mine! You don't get to fuck me whenever you feel like it Mark McNamara. I know men like you only too well. You do whatever you can to get in a woman's knickers and then once you've had her a few times you cast her aside like a piece of rubbish, like she meant nothing to you. Well, not me, I refuse to be treated like that again!" She shot him a vicious look as she stormed off, gathered her clothes and quickly got dressed.

  Mark stayed in the bathroom until she'd slammed out of the studio and banged the front door on her way outside. He was unnerved by Penelope's temper. He'd never seen her or any woman in that state before. She'd looked at him with pure hatred in her eyes. He felt a cold shiver run down his spine as he thought about what she might do in retaliation for his rejection of her.

  He splashed his face with cold water to try to calm down and sprayed some eau de cologne on his wrists to cover the smell of sex. Then he picked up his mobile phone to text Penelope some platitude that would soothe her, but decided against it. Best to let her cool down, he thought, she'll come to her senses before long.

  Chapter 21

  Penelope stormed out of the studio and slammed the door dramatically behind her. She was beyond outraged. She was absolutely livid! How dare he treat me like that, she thought. I will not be used again! I'll show him who I really am, she fumed. He doesn't have a clue who he's dealing with! He needs to be taught a lesson, just like that last bastard.

  She pounded down the pavement in her thigh high leather boots, her long black hair flying behind her. She looked very dramatic and very angry. Several people jumped out of her way when they saw her coming.

  “Cheer up, love, it might never happen,” a cheeky teenage boy shouted after her.

  She swung round and roared at him, “it already bloody well has happened!”

  He actually ran away in fright. She rounded a corner at top speed, knocking some poor unsuspecting pedestrian unceremoniously to the ground.

  "Hey!" the bundle of blonde curls and big duffle coat protested.

  "I'm so sorry!" Penelope exclaimed, coming to her senses at last. She dropped her huge handbag to the ground and bent down to help the poor misfortunate who was lying in a crumpled heap on the ground, nursing her arm delicately. "Are you ok?" Penelope asked, full of remorse.

  "I don't know.” The woman pushed her blonde curls out of her eyes and looked up at her. Penelope's eyes flashed in recognition, "do we know each other?" she asked.

  "Yes, I'm Shona, ex-receptionist at M&R Photography," Shona replied disconsolately.

  "Shona, of course," Penelope smiled suddenly, her perfect white smile. She helped her to her feet and collected her handbag and its contents from the pavement. Shona was still gingerly nursing her arm.

  "I hope it's not broken," Penelope looked stricken at the thought. "I'm so sorry."

  "Yeah, you nearly gave me a heart attack when you came around the corner so fast. You really should be more careful and watch where you're going in future."

  "I know," Penelope sighed, "I'm having a horrible day."

  "Welcome to my world," Shona said, "except I'm having a horrible life."

  "Do you want to grab a coffee or a drink maybe?" Penelope suggested. “Unless you want to go to Accident and Emergency to get your arm checked?"

  "My arm will be fine," Shona relented, "it's just a bad bruise at worst, nothing that a drink won't fix." She grinned cheekily at the other woman.

  "Great, would you like coffee or something stronger?"

  "Something stronger, definitely," Shona insisted.

  Penelope laughed at her emphatic response. "A drink it is then and I know just the place. Here, let me carry your bag for you, it's the least I could do."

  Shona gave her bag to her new friend.

  The two women walked slowly to Cafe Noir, a trendy wine bar which was situated just off the main street. There were tables and chairs set outside under a large lantern which cast a warm glow. The afternoon was already getting dark and there was a distinctive chill in the air.

  "Shall we sit inside or outside?" Penelope asked uncertainly.

  "Outside, if you don't mind, I need a cigarette.”

  "Sure.” Penelope pulled out a chair for Shona and they both sat as close to the heater as possible. "I'll have one too, please," Penelope said as Shona pulled a Marlboro from her handbag.

  The two women sat puffing in companionable silence for several minutes, letting the nicotine hit them and calm their rattled nerves. A waiter interrupted them briefly asking if they wanted to order anything.

  "A large bottle of Chateau Neufe du Pape please," Penelope ordered, without even bothering to look at the menu which he proffered.

  "Is that ok for you, Shona?" she asked.

  "Absolutely fine, as long as it's alcohol, I'm not too bothered."

  "Good, me neither."

  Shona observed Penelope under her eyelashes as the other woman gazed unseeingly at the shoppers who were busily passing by. She felt decidedly under-dressed and plain next to Penelope. I wish I'd at least put on a bit of makeup or even brushed my hair, she thought, self-consciously trying to flatten her hair against her head with her hand.

  "You really have the most beautiful hair," Penelope suddenly broke their silence.

  "Pardon?" Shona looked at her incredulously, not quite
believing her ears.

  "I've always envied your hair. It's so full of life and bounce, and such a lovely colour. Is it highlighted?"

  "Um, no, it's natural," Shona laughed uncertainly, not really knowing how to respond at getting such a compliment from someone so beautiful.

  "You're lucky."

  "I don't feel very lucky," Shona muttered.

  Penelope looked at her quizzically. "Why?" she asked bluntly.

  "Hmmm, let me see; no job, no boyfriend, no money and I'm on the verge of being homeless if I don't pay the rent very soon."

  "Oh dear," Penelope replied, "then again, my life isn't much better either. I've had a huge fight with my best friend who's moved out of our apartment, leaving me to pay all the bills on my own. I've just gotten the brush off from my so-called boyfriend, who claims that he's too busy to spend time with me this weekend. I haven't found any work since returning to Ireland and I'm living off my savings which are rapidly diminishing by the day."

  "Wow, we really have a lot more in common than I ever thought possible," Shona huffed.

  "It's great to be us," Penelope said sarcastically, as she helped herself to another of Shona's cigarettes. "Anyway, tell me, why did you leave M & R Photography? You seemed happy working there."

  "Yeah, well, I was happy, but it was getting too complicated."

  "Complicated, how?" Penelope probed.

  Shona took another long drag from her cigarette and debated whether or not to tell Penelope her woes. "I'm not proud to say that I was sleeping with the boss, who refused to leave his wife. I broke up with him last week, so continuing working with him would have been ever so slightly difficult."

  "You and Mark are seeing each other?" Penelope asked. Her face turned deathly pale.

  Shona squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. "We were seeing each other, past tense. I'm not proud of my relationship with him," Shona stuttered under Penelope's steady gaze, suddenly feeling like she had to explain herself to the other woman, "but I truly thought he loved me as much as I loved him."

  "You and me both," Penelope spat.

  "What?" Shona was starting to get annoyed at what she understood to be Penelope's judgmental attitude towards her.

  "He said he loved me too."

  "Oh, God," Shona buried her head in her hands, forgetting that she was still holding her cigarette and nearly setting fire to her hair. Eventually she resurfaced. "I cringe to think at how sick I've been feeling since I ended our affair. I've hardly left my bed. I've been sleeping like I'm in some sort of hibernation mode. I've hardly eaten. I've started smoking for heavens' sake, at my age! I haven't left my flat in a week, I only left today because I was going to the studio in the hopes of seeing Mark and talking to him. It's like I needed a “Mark fix” so that I could get myself back on track again, the withdrawal symptoms were just too much and to think he was with you the entire time."

  "You really do have it bad," Penelope sympathised. "He doesn't deserve to be loved that much by anyone."

  "How long have you two been together?" Shona asked desperately.

  "Does it really matter now?" Penelope sighed. “Why torment yourself any further?"

  "Yes, it does matter, actually," Shona insisted, "it matters to me. I want to understand exactly how much of a lying, insincere twat he is."

  "Trust me, Mark McNamara is right at the top of my list of twats, to put it politely.”

  "Well, how long were you two seeing each other?" Shona snapped.

  "Almost two months," Penelope answered quietly.

  "You were sleeping together?" Shona asked shortly.

  Penelope nodded, looking somewhat ashamed.

  "He told me loved me," Shona groaned, her face turning red with anger. "This is a great cure for heartache anyway," she continued ruefully. "I feel my appetite returning by the second."

  "More wine, I think," Penelope beckoned the waiter to bring another bottle, as she refilled Shona's glass and then her own.

  She took a large gulp before speaking again. "It seems to me that Mark McNamara has been taking us both for fools," Shona finally managed.

  "I can't believe he was seeing us both at the same time," Penelope groaned.

  "Who does he think he is?" Shona asked, not for the first time, "I feel like such a cliche; the secretary who was having an affair with her boss, except I was stupid enough to believe him when he promised to leave his wife and life for me."

  "Yeah, right," Penelope smirked. Shona looked at her sharply, stung by the mocking look on her face.

  "You're a bit of a cliche yourself," she said pointedly, "a model sleeping with a photographer, I'm sure nobody has ever done that before either."

  Penelope's expression quickly changed. She took a deep breath, "let's not fall out over that cad, ok? He's not worth it."

  Shona relented, "I agree with you completely. “Friends?"

  She held out her hand and Penelope shook it eagerly, "friends."

  They toasted each other to seal their new-found friendship.

  “I don't know about you, but I'm ravenous," Penelope said after they'd finished their second bottle of wine and smoked the rest of Shona's cigarettes.

  "I could eat a horse right now," Shona agreed.

  They picked up the menus which the waiter had left on their table and settled on two medium pepperoni pizzas and a large plate of garlic breaded stuffed mushrooms.

  "I never knew models ate so much," Shona said as the waiter quickly arrived with their order, placing heaped plates of food and more wine in front of them.

  "I'm usually very disciplined, I have to admit, and I work out like a demon, but I don't mind over-indulging occasionally," Penelope smiled, helping herself to a very large portion of mushrooms. "Mmm, these are to die for," she enthused, licking her fingers as the garlic sauce dribbled down her hand. "Don't believe what most people tell you about being skinny either," Penelope volunteered. “Anyone who is slim and much over the age of twenty definitely watches their weight and works out, trust me."

  "Really?" Shona asked disbelievingly, "I thought some people were blessed with naturally skinny genes.

  "I don't believe it," Penelope disagreed, "I watch what I eat ninety five per cent of the time and I work out for an hour every day. If I didn't I'd be the size of a house. I probably won't eat anything but fruit and water for the next week after this evening's feast."

  "How awful," Shona sympathised.

  "It's not awful at all," Penelope said, "as Kate Moss once wisely said "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels"."

  Shona laughed at her friend's analogy. "I must remember that," she giggled.

  "We can't let Mark get away with treating us like this," Penelope insisted, as they sat back in their seats digesting their food and sipping their red wine.

  "I agree with you, but how do we make him pay?" Shona patted her very round stomach. She burped suddenly, much to her own embarrassment. "Excuse me, so sorry," she quickly drank some water to settle her stomach.

  "I haven't figured out how to punish him, but believe me when I tell you that I will make him pay, if it's the last thing I do," Penelope said ominously.

  "That's a bit extreme," Shona felt nervous. "He's not worth being the last thing you do."

  "I promised myself that I would never let a man treat me like this again," Penelope reiterated. "Has this happened to you before?" Shona asked curiously.

  "Unfortunately, yes. He made a complete idiot of me, ruined my name at my modelling agency, so they fired me."

  "What!" Shona exclaimed. “You can't be fired for having an affair, that's unfair dismissal!" "Yes you can, when you're stupid enough to sleep with your boss' husband."

  "Ouch," Shona replied, "that explains why you returned to Ireland. I always wondered why you left London to come back to Dublin."

  "Well, now you know and here I am making the same stupid mistakes all over again, which is why I am determined to get even this time."

  Shona flinched at the look that passed over Penelop
e's arresting face.

  "How shall we punish him?" Penelope continued.

  "I don't know.” Shona was becoming more and more nervous at the edge to Penelope's voice. "I think we should tell his wife. I don't think that would be a good idea," Shona coughed, almost choking on her drink.

  "Why not?" Penelope asked baldly, "he deserves to be exposed."

  "Wouldn't we be exposing ourselves at the same time?" Shona was trying desperately to be the voice of reason.

  "I realise that, of course," Penelope agreed, "but he's got a lot more to lose than us. He'll lose his nice, cosy, stable little life, his wife, his son, his house, his so-called good name and standing in the community. He might even lose his business, depending on how much of a stake his wife has invested in it." Her eyes glinted dangerously at her last sentence.

  "It's a bit harsh, don't you think?" Shona asked quietly.

  "Harsh!" Penelope almost screamed. "Not harsh enough, I say. He deserves everything he gets and a lot more besides. He thinks he can maintain the status quo in his life and turn our worlds upside down. I don't think so! He needs to learn to keep it in his trousers or learn to pay the price and the consequences."

  "I'm not sure," Shona stuttered, "I agree with you that he should suffer but I don't really think it's a good idea to tell his wife. What if she doesn't have a clue about his cheating ways? After all, it's over now between all of us. I don't want to be responsible for splitting up a marriage or devastating his wife, she's the innocent party in all of this."

  "Innocent!" Penelope cried. “We're the innocent ones!"

  "Well, we're not really that innocent," Shona disagreed, becoming more and more uncomfortable at Penelope's escalating temper.

  "He's the married man!" Penelope spat, "it's his responsibility to keep it in his trousers, not ours. If it hadn't been us it would have been some other poor unsuspecting woman."

  "Maybe," Shona said hesitantly.

  "I can guarantee you another thing," Penelope continued her diatribe, sloshing her wine in its glass. “His wife definitely suspects that he's up to something. She may not know for certain, but she certainly suspects."