Wolfe's Lair

by Alice Raine

  Glancing at my legs, he gave a wolfish grin. ‘Keep your boots on, if you like,’ he murmured, but from the tone of his voice it sounded more like a demand than an offer, and I smiled shyly and glanced down at my legs. I’d decided to wear the new boots he had bought me, and had paired them with a short skirt, stockings, and a newly purchased suspender belt; which I was hoping he might rather like when he discovered it later. I was also wearing my new collar, but that was currently hidden behind a thin lacy scarf, so he wouldn’t see it until I chose to remove the scarf and make my big reveal.

  As my eyes skimmed his space for the first time, practically all that filled it were paint pots, ladders and dust sheets. Seeing me looking at the mess that surrounded us he grinned and shrugged. ‘This is one of the reasons I haven’t invited you over. I’m having the whole place redone and the work is taking a little longer than anticipated.’ He seemed completely relaxed, and the slight lingering concern I’d had from Chloe’s words about the blonde she’d seen him with at her office vanished as I slid out of my light summer jacket, choosing to keep my scarf on for now.

  ‘The hall is the worst,’ Oliver commented, breaking me from my curious assessment and drawing my attention back to him. ‘Once I knew you were coming, I moved all the paint out here so at least the other rooms are usable, even if not particularly pretty.’

  Given all that we had now done together, it was silly to be nervous, but being here in his private space for the first time had given me butterflies. Taking a breath to try to settle my nerves, I noticed a delicious smell in the air. ‘Something smells good.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ve got Spanish chicken cooking in the slow cooker. My mother’s recipe. Come through to the kitchen with me and I’ll get us some drinks.’

  Oliver

  Things with Robyn had been so easy. Right from the start, being with her had always just felt … right, somehow. But tonight was different. She was different. Interestingly enough, Robyn actually seemed nervous, which was not something I’d seen in her since we’d settled into our more stable relationship. Perhaps it was the newness of our surroundings that was unsettling her, so I opted to try to get things back onto our usual, comfortable companionship by turning to the tried and tested method of relaxation – alcohol.

  ‘Wine? Soft drink, or gin and tonic?’

  ‘Gin, please.’ Robyn’s gaze darted around my kitchen with curiosity.

  ‘Coming up. Make yourself at home,’ I offered, as I lifted two glasses from a cupboard.

  After I had poured the gin, I glanced across at Robyn, who was now at the far end of my kitchen diner, poking around and doing exactly as I had requested – making herself at home.

  I was hoping that, one day soon, this would be her home. Not that I’d brought that subject up yet, but since the situation with Dominic I had been going out of my mind with worry every time that she and I were apart. It might be viewed as too soon by some people, but I was old enough to know that a connection like ours didn’t come around often.

  If we lived together my mind would certainly be at ease, but there was still one rather large hurdle that I needed to sort out before that could ever happen. Hopefully I could resolve it in the morning.

  Brushing off my thoughts, I went to the fridge to get the tonic water. As I put the finishing touches to our drinks, Robyn left the far corner and worked her way around the kitchen, oohing and ahhing at various gadgets I owned and seeming to like the space as much as I did.

  We were having Bombay Sapphire, my preferred gin, so I was serving it long over ice, with a slice of cucumber and a thin strip of lemon peel. Having prepared the garnishes, I pulled the ice tray from the fridge, jerked it to free up the cubes, and popped two into each drink.

  The crack of the ice as I broke it from the tray caused Robyn to abruptly turn in my direction, and we both paused, staring at the tray of ice for a second. One of our most memorable times together had included ice cubes; back in Barcelona, when I had teased her entire body with them until she’d come apart in my arms. My groin hardened at the memory, and I bit my lower lip as erotic images from that night flooded my mind.

  Glancing up at Robyn, I found her frozen to the spot, halfway across the kitchen towards me and also staring at the ice tray in my hand.

  Her cheeks flushed, and I watched with pleasure as she raised a hand and gently rubbed at her lips – the exact same spot where I had first touched the ice cube against her body all those weeks ago.

  Robyn let out a small gasp, then shifted her legs, squeezing her thighs together and squirming briefly on the spot as if suddenly aroused. Very aroused, if the deepening colour in her cheeks and ever-expanding pupils were anything to go by.

  There she was.

  This was the beautiful, expressive girl I had come to know since we’d been together. Finally, she was back in the present with me, and her nerves from earlier seemed to have passed.

  I’d been relatively gentle with her since the Dominic situation, but perhaps tonight was the night to get things back on track properly, as she had requested. She had gone to all the trouble of wearing stockings and those new knee-high boots, after all.

  I’d already put some cubes into the drinks, but I decided to tease my girl anyway. ‘Ice?’ I asked, my tone dropping to a low husk.

  She was well aware that I’d already iced the drinks, and her eyes darted to mine. I watched in pleasure as she licked her lips and performed a slow, sensual nod.

  ‘Yes, please. Sir.’ As she spoke, she casually removed the scarf at her neck, drawing my eyes down so I saw her new collar nestled around her neck. I actually felt my breath catch in my throat at the significance of the moment. Mine.

  I’d thought that sight was breath-taking, but then Robyn upped it, by dropping a hand to her skirt and inching the fabric up at one side. It looked an innocent enough move at first, like she was scratching an itch or something, until I caught a glimpse of a suspender belt at the top of her thigh.

  Dios. Her collar was a hot enough sight, but to combine it with stockings, suspenders, and those boots? It seemed my little Robyn had gone to some lengths to prepare a special treat for me. And what a treat it was.

  I felt like the luckiest man on earth as I looked at her. She was so amazing. So perfect. My nostrils flared as I drew in a long, deep breath to try to calm myself. I believe the English phrase is “bring it on”, and as I left the drinks untouched on the counter and advanced on her, that was exactly what I intended to do.

  Chapter Forty-six

  Robyn

  A bang woke me, and I sat up in bed and rubbed at my sleepy eyes trying to work out what the noise had been. It was dark, so presumably we’d ended up accidentally falling asleep after our deliciously tiring sexy time. Thoughts of what Oliver had done to me had me grinning, and glancing at my discarded boots and suspender belt – from the response they’d created in Oliver, those items would be getting a lot more use in future – but the further sounds of shuffling and movements from downstairs made my ears perk up again.

  Thinking it might be an intruder, I quickly looked towards Oliver to see if he was awake.

  His eyes were indeed open, but he didn’t look nearly as startled as I felt. In fact, he seemed to be resigned to something as he sat up and grimaced, before drawing in a long, deep breath and closing his eyes in apparent frustration. ‘This is just great.’

  I was about to ask what he meant, when a woman’s voice floated up the stairs. ‘Oliver? Darling? I’m home, are you in?’

  Darling?

  Who the fuck was that? And she’d definitely said I’m home, indicating that she lived here. Suddenly Chloe’s words of warning were ringing in my mind again – how she’d seen him looking very cosy with a blonde, and how he’d had his arm around her – and I had a sudden feeling that I may have been well and truly tricked.

  He did have a girlfriend, or wife! Why else would there be a woman downstairs proclaiming she was home, and calling him darling?

  After all his ta
lk about not tolerating lies he had outright lied to me. The hypocritical fuck!

  I was such a gullible idiot. Chloe had told me what she’d seen, but I had blindly ignored it, choosing to trust my gut and believe that Oliver was being honest with me.

  Leaping from under the covers, I had to stifle a yelp at the faint twinge of pain from my healing wounds. I turned my most affronted glare to Oliver while also pointing an accusing finger at him. ‘You fucking liar! You live with someone!’ I dragged the sheet from the bed, wrapped it tightly around myself, and glared at him as the first sting of tears hit the backs of my eyes. ‘I asked you outright when we first met, and you lied to my face!’

  Ignoring my outburst, Oliver shook his head in irritation. ‘Typical, this is the night she chooses to come home early,’ he muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for me to hear, and only acted to further heighten my fury.

  Oliver at least had the grace to look a little awkward as he climbed from the bed and checked his watch, but he didn’t try to deny anything, which just sent my anger sky-rocketing. ‘Fucking hell! You utter bastard! You’re married, aren’t you?’

  His expression suddenly changed to that of his dominant persona. He stood there, stark naked, with his legs splayed wide, and arms crossed over his bare chest as he stared at me intently. Even under these horrific circumstances it was a bloody impressive sight. ‘No, and watch your language, Robyn.’

  ‘Fuck off!’ I screamed, really close to either crying my eyes out, or smacking him around the head. ‘Does she know about me?’ I demanded, not sure why it was important, but somehow finding the words leaving my mouth anyway.

  Oliver’s shoulders slumped. ‘No.’

  ‘Fucking arsehole.’ Acting purely on impulse, I tore the sheet from the bed and spun on my heel, wrenching the bedroom door open as I decided to set his wife, girlfriend, or whatever she might be, straight about his low-life cheating ways, then get the hell out of here.

  ‘Stop swearing! Robyn, come back. Let me explain. You don’t want to go down there yet, believe me.’

  Ignoring his call, I hiked the sheet up around my knees and charged down the stairs towards the kitchen and the noise of clanking crockery. My bare feet slapped across the tiled hallway as I barrelled towards the door. With my palm outstretched, I hit the door at full pelt, bursting into the brightly lit space only to skid to a very sudden, and rather shocked halt.

  Oh. My. God.

  Instead of finding Oliver’s wronged woman as I had envisioned, I had instead come face to face with four, no wait, five smartly dressed women. All of whom appeared to be around their mid-sixties, and all of whom were staring at me with rapt fascination.

  ‘Oh …! Hello, and who might you be?’ asked the woman currently holding a coffee pot mid-pour as she looked at me with a mix of open curiosity and shock.

  ‘I … uhhh … sorry …’ I tried to reverse out of the room, but suddenly my back bumped into something warm and unrelenting as I realised that Oliver had joined me downstairs.

  ‘Good evening, Val. You’re home early,’ Oliver remarked dryly from just behind me.

  Val? Who the hell was Val? Leaning close behind me, Oliver gave a wry chuckle. ‘I see you’ve made quite an impact on my aunt and her friends.’

  Aunt? This was his aunt? Looking again at the woman in the centre I realised that if I ignored the dyed blonde bob, I could see a definite family resemblance. Facially, she looked a lot like his sisters that I had met in Spain, except considerably older. Oh fuck! It really is his fucking aunt!

  ‘Ladies. You’re all looking rather smart this evening,’ Oliver continued smoothly, nodding politely to the gathered crowd with his usual impeccable manners.

  ‘Shame I can’t say the same about you, eh, Oliver?’ his aunt murmured, as a wicked glint twinkled in her eye and a grin threatened to crack on her lips.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, Val, I rather like the view,’ the woman next to her said, elbowing Oliver’s aunt in the ribs and grinning at something beside me.

  Noticing that all the eyes had left me, and were now focused just to my right, I glanced across and saw to my horror that Oliver had obviously hightailed it down the stairs after me, because he was dressed in just a pair of black boxer shorts. As well as being practically naked, he was sporting his tousled post-sex hair, which, combined with his muscular physique, made him look well and truly sinful. Holy smokes! He was going to give one of them a heart attack swanning around like that.

  Clearing his throat, he ignored his aunt’s pointed remark and slung an arm around my bare shoulders, pulling me firmly into his side and leaning causally onto the doorframe. ‘How was bridge club, did any of you win?’

  God, this was bloody surreal. I was dressed in nothing but a sheet, Oliver was in his boxers, and yet he was calmly greeting these women and discussing bridge! He sounded completely unaffected by the entire situation.

  He might not be acknowledging my fidgeting verbally, but as I shuffled yet again on the cold marble floor, he gently stilled me by gripping my shoulder tighter and giving a small squeeze.

  His contact went some way to reassuring me, but glancing at the clock I saw that it was only nine-thirty in the evening, so it really couldn’t be more obvious what we’d just been up to. My cheeks were absolutely burning by this point, and the only thing stopping me from turning and dashing back upstairs was the fact that my feet were tangled in the bloody sheet and I’d probably end up dropping it and flashing them all my naked arse as I ran away.

  ‘Forget bridge, Oliver! Aren’t you going to introduce us to your … um … friend?’

  He slid his arm down so it now rested around my waist, positioned himself slightly behind me, and settled his palm on my stomach, pulling me flush against his body. ‘This is Robyn,’ he said simply, his voice soft with an affection that he then backed up by placing just the smallest, briefest kiss on my temple.

  I saw his aunt’s eyebrows rise at the gesture, before Oliver indicated to the room with his free hand.

  ‘And this is not a phantom wife or girlfriend as you assumed, but my father’s sister, Valarie, or Val for short. And these are her bridge friends, Edith, Margaret, Caroline, and Joan.’ He hadn’t introduced me as his girlfriend, but his obvious display of affection was rather pleasing, even if it was in front of an audience.

  Several of the ladies murmured a polite “hello” while still openly gawking at us, but I was frozen to the spot in shock. I mean, as far as first times meeting a family member of your new man can go, this surely would go down in history as one of the most disastrous.

  ‘What do you mean “wife or girlfriend”?’ Valarie asked with a comical frown.

  ‘Robyn heard you come in and assumed I hadn’t been entirely truthful with her. She jumped to the conclusion that perhaps I was married.’

  Valarie chuckled, and rolled her eyes. ‘The chance would be a fine thing. He’s so absorbed with work he doesn’t even date!’ Pouring the final coffee, she looked up at us again with an inquisitive tilt to her head. ‘Although perhaps our boy is finally changing his ways?’

  Beside me, Oliver made a small agreeing hum in the back of his throat. ‘Yes, it would certainly appear so. Perhaps Robyn and I will go and get dressed.’

  ‘Oh! Don’t go yet!’ Valarie seemed exceptionally keen to keep us in the room, whereas I couldn’t wait to get out of there. God this was just so mortifying.

  ‘Don’t panic, Tía, we’ll return once we are … more appropriately attired.’

  Tía? I thought he said her name was Valarie? Seeing my confused look, he grinned. ‘Tía is the term for aunt in Spanish. In my family we also use it as an affectionate title. Much like you might say auntie.’ Looking across at his aunt again, Oliver bowed his head slightly. ‘We will be back shortly.’

  ‘Oh good! I’ll make another pot of coffee.’

  Forget coffee. I was going to need a quadruple rum to recover from the shock of this encounter.

  With some difficulty, Olive
r steered my frozen body back out of the kitchen. He guided me towards the stairs with a chuckle as I grabbed the handrail and let out a horrified groan.

  ‘I can’t believe that just happened!’

  ‘I did warn you not to go downstairs straight away.’

  Finally finding my tongue, I licked my dry lips and stabbed my finger into his solid chest. ‘You said you didn’t live with anyone!’

  Shaking his head in amusement, he crossed his arms over his bare chest and leaned back against the wall, looking like the picture of calm. ‘No. If I recall correctly, you asked if I was married, or had a girlfriend, which I am not, and do not, so I replied honestly with a simple “no”. You never actually asked if I lived with anyone.’

  As he ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders sagged a little and he shrugged, seeing my need for further explanation. ‘When you said Chloe had seen me with a blonde in her office, I knew exactly what you were referring to, but at that point things hadn’t developed between you and I, so I didn’t feel the need to explain myself. Val is investing some of her savings, and I was with her that day as a guiding voice.’

  ‘Oh my God, Oliver, why didn’t you just tell me then that it was your aunt, and that you lived with her?’ I grumbled, wondering how I was ever going to look the woman in the eye again.

  He stopped abruptly and turned to me with a frown. ‘I don’t live with my aunt, she lives with me, and it’s only temporary while the sale of her house goes through. My father’s side of the family are mostly still based in England. Unfortunately, my uncle died a little over three years ago now. At first Tía didn’t want to go back to their house, because it was too full of memories, but she didn’t want to sell it, either, so she’s been travelling and staying with various family members. She’s been with me for the past six months and has finally decided to sell up and buy a small flat. The sale is taking longer than predicted to go through.’ Scrubbing at the back of his neck, he gave me an embarrassed smile. ‘And the reason I didn’t tell you is obvious. I’m over forty; it’s a little embarrassing to tell you I share a house with my aunt.’