Masterful 3 (An Erotic Dark Romance)

by Jesse Joren

  up my mind about you.

  My hands realized the truth immediately. They began to shake, making the opened pages tremble.

  These were the opening lines to my online relationship with Hex, the very first things we said to each other when we met in a sex chat room. Electricity surrounded us that night, every word freighted with extra meaning.

  From the beginning he felt a little dangerous, but I comforted myself that being online made me anonymous. Instead of logging off and changing my online identity, I'd fluttered closer and closer, as if daring him to do his worst.

  It didn't take long before the connection between us was too addictive to even think about stopping. Night after night for almost two years, Hex was the dark star in my secret world.

  Patience has never been one of my virtues. I dug out The Book of Eva, Volume 3 and flipped to the last page. That final typed entry confirmed my suspicions. These books held every conversation of our online courtship.

  The new Eva, trying to make a fresh start, would burn these books without reading a word. I should already be looking for some matches.

  Who was I kidding? No way could I resist the temptation to see every steamy, Hex-soaked detail brought to life one word at a time.

  Are you just going to run out on Del? Nice guys finish last?

  Even with these forbidden books in front of me, there was still that tug of attraction to the sexy guy downstairs. He was gallant and easy-going, but something hinted there was more to his story. Truly nice guys didn't breeze through hostage situations and tire-squealing escapes like he had.

  Given half a chance, there could be something between us. Hex and his dark gift would have to wait.

  Standing under an icy shower steadied my nerves. I climbed out and dried my hair in record time, settling for lip gloss as I checked the closet.

  Del was dressed casually, so I picked jeans and a white cable knit sweater with saddle brown Frye boots. As a nod to the chilly day, I added a soft cranberry scarf.

  The lights dimmed for an instant, reminding me of an old superstition from my mom's side of the family. When the lights flickered and didn't go out, you got to make a wish.

  I closed my eyes.

  Help me know what's real today. Then I changed it to Don't let me do anything stupid.

  My stomach was full of butterflies as I got on the elevator. On the way up, Del had been in the front of my mind. On the way down, my thoughts were full of Hex.

  Those books had arrived at a very strategic moment. Hex couldn't have known that Del would show up, but this bit of serendipity made me wonder.

  Chapter Twelve

  "I can't decide which one is real," Del said as we were waiting for our food to arrive.

  Everything on the table looked authentically Cajun to me.

  "You mean one of these sauces is making false claims about being the hottest?"

  I waved a bottle at him, something called Smack My Ass and Call Me Sally. He picked up a bottle of Sweet Spicy Girl and waved it in retaliation.

  "This is the one that interests me most," he said.

  "Whatever you say, Sally."

  "What I meant was that I've seen you dressed in black leather and attitude, then sweat and determination, now white angora and a sweet smile. How many other Evas are you hiding?"

  If he only knew.

  "I'm pretty uncomplicated." The iced tea was sweet and perfect as I took a long drink. "You met me on a strange day last week."

  "Speaking of that, something you said has been knocking around in my head. How did you know that Peter wouldn't hurt you? I could use that kind of insight in my line of work."

  "Which is?"

  "Just boring stuff." He smiled. "I'm uncomplicated too."

  The waitress arrived with a tray of bowls and plates, giving me a chance to think about how to answer.

  We were sitting in a shabby but clean little joint called Bijoux, not too far from my old apartment. Cajun spices filled the air along with zydeco music, making the chilly day seem warmer.

  I took my first bite of thick gumbo loaded with rice, shrimp, and smoky tasso ham. "This is amazing."

  "You can tell it's a winner if they go heavy on the Holy Trinity," he agreed.

  I recalled my Aunt Ruth bustling around her south Mississippi kitchen. She would be throwing spices into a pot and scolding my male cousins as they swiped things off the cutting board.

  "That's…bell peppers, celery, and onions?"

  Del toasted me with his own glass of tea. "Bingo. So how were you so sure that Peter the Screw-up wasn't going to shoot you?"

  Well, you see, Del, I like to be tied up myself. I have a sixth sense about guys who enjoy a good bitch-slap.

  "He didn't seem very focused for someone trying to take people hostage," I said, being careful of every word.

  "Interesting. Go on."

  "He never locked the doors, for one thing. He was just standing right in the middle of the room where he could be jumped by any of us. But the main thing –"

  My flush wasn't from cayenne pepper. "I was watching his eyes. He didn't even see you until you moved. He was so distracted that it made me think he could be surprised."

  That explanation sounded lame. Del's gaze was keen, and I knew he was reading between the lines of what I wasn't saying.

  "You have good instincts, but something tells me you also got lucky," he said. "Luck disappears at the worst moments. Promise that you won't ever do that again."

  "No worries. I may give up coffee to stay clear of guys like him."

  "That would be a shame," he said, "because then guys like me wouldn't get to smuggle you out the back door."

  The Cajun fettucine looked creamy and delicious as I twirled some onto my fork. "Tell me about your…what did you call it? Line of work?"

  "I was SWAT for a while, also some special ops training," he said. "People who need security services hire me, then I provide security."

  "That's the most circular sentence I ever heard."

  He laughed. "Trust me, the details aren't all that interesting."

  "Right. I bet you have some stories."

  "Maybe," he said, "but something tells me that Eva Bright, sitting there all innocent in her white sweater, might be able to match me secret-for-secret."

  His faint drawl fell pleasantly on my ears. The attraction between us was so obvious that it almost needed its own seat at the table. I liked his sense of humor and intelligence, the way he radiated an easy and effortless charm.

  But for all his gallantry, Del had a whisper of secrecy about him. First Hex, now him. Maybe nice guys would never be my thing.

  "You're wrong on that part," I said, reaching for a hush puppy. "No secrets here. If you face-plant into your lunch from boredom, I won't hold it against you."

  "Believe me," he said, "I'm anything but bored."

  In every way possible, he was telling me that he wanted to know me better. So why did it feel like he was separated from me by a thick glass wall?

  He deserved better. I could at least give Del my full attention over lunch, couldn't I?

  Good luck with that.

  --

  At first I thought he was joking. "Are you serious?" I asked in disbelief.

  "Yep. We're gonna cleanse our palates the true Cajun way."

  Two frosty shot glasses rested on a slab of dry ice in the middle of the table. Per the menu, this deadly little drink was known as a Marie Laveau, billed as "ice-cold moonshine lightly kissed with ghost pepper."

  "Isn't it a little early to cleanse our palates?" I ventured.

  "I saw you take down an armed gunman, so you can handle a lunchtime shot," he teased. "Besides, it's not all that early."

  We had been talking for almost three hours. Del was that rare combination of a good listener and a colorful storyteller. The afternoon had slipped by almost without notice.

  "This feels like trouble brewing," I said as the dry ice started to smoke.

  "You have good instincts." He
picked up his glass and toasted me. "Bottoms up, Vixen."

  "My insurance card is in my wallet, if the paramedics need it."

  I took a deep breath and downed the shot in one gulp. An icebolt traveled down my throat before exploding into a mushroom cloud of heat. Everything south of my tongue didn't know if it was being burned to a crisp or frostbitten.

  Del sat across from me with an empty glass, looking totally unaffected. He wasn't even flushed.

  "What do you think?" he asked.

  "Holy hell," I choked. "Are my eyebrows on fire?"

  "What eyebrows?" he teased. "You have to admit that it cleanses the palate."

  "Yeah, by burning it completely away."

  My eyes were still watering, and I wouldn't have been surprised to see sparks fall out of my mouth. The lump of fire I'd swallowed was slowly making its way down.

  "How about a chaser to take away the sting?" Del asked.

  "I'm not sure I could survive another one."

  "You'll be surprised by how smooth this one is."

  "Maybe I better – "

  Del leaned across the small table and caught my lips between his in a sweet kiss that tasted of vodka. The crowded restaurant seemed to recede, leaving us in a shining cone of silence.

  His lips were fuller than I'd realized, brushing over mine with slow strokes. The tip of his tongue flicked against my mouth, making no effort to go further. A question seeming to hang in the air between us.

  He drew back and smiled.

  "See?" he said, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. "My attempt at being smooth. A good chaser to that awful drink."

  He leaned in to kiss me again, slower this time, exploring. The chemistry was all there, and his kisses were wow-worthy. But—

  The change in his lips told me that he sensed the doubt in me. He drew back and looked into my eyes.

  "I had to know for sure," he said. "Now I do. Does he have any idea how lucky he is?"

  "What makes you think I have a guy?"

  "Because," Del said, "I know him."

  Chapter Thirteen

  "I'm sorry, who is it that you know?"

  My voice was casual despite the emotional storm inside of me. Score one for my poker face.

  "Good answer," he said. "That little trick makes people reveal things."

  "Were you trying to trick me?"

  "Maybe this much," he said, holding his fingers half an inch apart. "I wanted to kiss you ever since you told Peter to get his bitch-ass into the floor, but this was more of a reality check."

  "What were you checking? My breath?" I joked.

  "You're taken," he said. "I thought so, but I wasn't sure. You can't blame a guy for trying when a beautiful girl crosses his path."

  "So you think you know him?" My heart was still thumping from the shot, the kiss, and the turn this conversation had taken.

  "I know enough. He's tapped into the core of who you are. Something isn't right between you right now, but no one in his right mind throws away a soulmate. He's gone, but he'll be back."

  "You could tell that with one kiss?"

  "Just a hunch, like the one you had about Peter."

  My mind drifted back to those leather-bound books still sitting at my place. The idea of reading them was unsettling but thrilling. The thought of him doing those things to me was so erotic that it was almost painful.

  Del brushed his finger against my cheek.

  "That look on your face tells me that he's lucky. I could give him a run for his money, but no man with any decency would force a girl into a decision that rips her apart."

  His words held a true, simple dignity that hurt my heart.

  "It's not what you think," I said. "It's hard to explain."

  "It always is, but we're friends. No explanations are needed between friends."

  His tone became lighter as the teasing light returned to his eyes.

  "Of course, if Peter gets out of jail and tries to win you over, you'll probably run away and be his Ma'am forever."

  That made us both laugh. It was a good way to end a lunch that I wouldn't soon forget.

  "Let me pay," I insisted, grabbing for the check.

  His hand closed over mine, warm and gentle.

  "Nope. You have nothing to make up for. It’s my decision to back away. No regrets from me."

  "Or me. Look, why don't I get a cab back to my place?"

  More time with Del might not make the parting easier. Maybe he felt the same way because he didn't protest.

  "You've got a friend if you ever need one, Eva. Especially if you decide to smack around the wrong person again."

  "Don't worry," I said. "From now on, I'm charging extra for that service."

  --

  I waved at Del as the taxi pulled away from Bijoux, smiling at him with real affection. He looked casual and sexy as he waved back and blew me a kiss. I pretended to grab for it and miss, and he was laughing as the cab turned down the street.

  Only then did I slump into the worn seat. There was something seriously wrong with me that I could let a guy like that just walk away. Behind his drawl and easy-going grin, Del was a lot more complicated than I had realized.

  The ride back to the Ritz was short. For some reason I was sure that the books were gone, that Hex had come in and swooped them up while I was out with Del.

  Maybe that would be a good thing.

  But there they were on the kitchen counter beside the tattered copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales. They gleamed in the late afternoon light, inviting me to relive the past.

  Roxy was ready for some food, and I was ready for some wine. Once I had a glass poured, I curled up on the sofa and opened Volume 1 again.

  May 1, 4:18 A.M. GMT +4

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom has accepted your chat request.

  May 1, 4:19 A.M. GMT +4

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom has entered the room.

  Hex wrote: Are you going to tell me to fuck

  off?

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: Depends. Do you know the difference

  between dominance and being a jerk?

  Hex wrote: Depends. Do you know the difference

  between submission and being a

  doormat?

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: Trust me. I have opinions.

  Hex wrote: Your profile screams that.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: I never been much of a screamer.

  Hex wrote: That may change. I'm still making

  up my mind about you.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: Good. Amateurs bore me.

  Hex wrote: Why are you here?

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: For escape. To find someone who

  matches me fantasy for fantasy.

  Hex wrote: How old are you?

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: How old do you want me to be?

  Hex wrote: Stop with the canned answers.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: 31.

  Hex wrote: Liar.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: I'm 15. Happy now?

  Hex wrote: You're here to play games, but not

  the kind I crave. Have fun teasing

  someone else, Cherry.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: I'm 20.

  Hex wrote: Lie to me again and I'm gone.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: What makes you so sure that's the

  truth?

  Hex wrote: I can just tell.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: You sure are touchy for a guy who

  wants to get laid.

  Hex wrote: I value my time. I could have been

  laid in person a dozen times

  tonight.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: Mr. Popularity. Brag much?

  Hex wrote: It's only bragging if you can't

  back it up. I'm looking for more.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: So am I.

  Hex wrote: Tell me.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: Something real. Something exciting.

  Hex wrote: Testing the boundaries?
<
br />   Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: Exactly.

  Hex wrote: Most people would say that anything

  online is unreal by default.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: That would prove they don't know

  what they're talking about. I'm not

  most people.

  Hex wrote: I would have left ten lines ago if

  I thought you were.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: How old are you?

  Hex wrote: 25.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: You seem older. I hope not. I'd

  hate to wear you out early.

  Hex wrote: A smartass. That makes things fun.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: Gonna put duct tape over my mouth?

  Hex wrote: There are more intense ways to get

  your attention.

  Cherry-on-the-Bottom wrote: If that's to scare me, I'm not.

  Hex wrote: You will be. But isn't that why

  you're here?

  Thunder growled somewhere off to the west. Roxy leaped up on the couch next to me, her tail swelled out like a brush. I barely noticed as the words on the page lured me into the past.

  I pulled her close to me, nuzzling my face against the comfort of her soft fur.

  "Don't worry. The bad man won't get you," I told her. "He already got to me, a long time ago."

  Chapter Fourteen

  2:52 a.m.

  My eyes were bleary and red from too much wine and too much reading. Roxy had given up long ago and left to sleep on my bed. In spite of the exhausting day, sleep was the last thing on my mind.

  For hours the books had held me spellbound as I re-lived every throbbing detail of the beginning of my relationship with Hex. The plain, screen-print style of the text had only underscored the dark, lush world of those fantasies.

  Details rose from the pages in steamy detail, each more lurid than the last. Had I really given such power to a man I'd never met, never looked beyond his photo that might have been fake?

  The re-lived memories of the past few hours had been a revelation. By any standards, I had been brazen. My words danced before my eyes, a girl with no inhibitions who promised him anything and then did her by-God best to live up to those promises.

  From a little girl lost to a super-charged slut, Online Eva was a force of nature. Seeing myself like this, through his eyes, was a whole new perspective.