by Jade West
“Did any of them hurt you?” My mouth was dry as sand, no matter how much wine I sipped. I inched my chair closer, holding back the urge to reach across the table for her.
“Hurt me? Like physically? No. It wasn’t that bad. I wasn’t abused or anything, most of them ignored me entirely.”
I breathed out in relief. “You shouldn’t have had that on your shoulders, Lydia. You were too young, much too young. Did nobody help you?”
“Mum had a friend I called Auntie Sylvia, she’d come round often, try and help out. She’s still there with Mum now, living round the corner. I’d never have been able to leave if she wasn’t. She’d cook for us sometimes, when Mum was too depressed, and bring me toffees and a pat on the head. She’s nice, Syl. She helped.” I heard her breath hitch again and this time she struggled to bring it back in line. She put her hand to her mouth and her fingers were shaking. “I shouldn’t talk about this, I’m sorry. You’ll think I’m a right freak.”
“I don’t think you’re a freak, Lydia, I think you’re a bloody saint. A lot of people would have cut that shit off long ago.”
“I can’t cut her off,” she said. “She’s my mum, she needs me. I promised myself I’d be able to save her, just as soon as I was old enough... brave enough... clever enough... I’m not any of those things yet, it appears.”
“You are all of those things,” I said. “But you can’t save other people, no matter how much you want to. People will always walk their own path, dance with their own demons.”
“I have to try,” she wheezed. “I have to try harder. I let her down again. I always let her down.”
Her pain broke my resolve, and I was off, dragging my chair to her side, so close. Her delicate little hands in mine, so small. Bright eyes staring up at me. “No, Lydia. You didn’t let her down. She let you down.”
“She let herself down. She’s worth so much more than this, if only she could see what I see. Why can’t I make her see?” Her eyes were pleading, searching, open and raw.
My heart raced, buckling under the pressure to touch her, to pull her close. “People only see what they want to see, and they only do whatever they want to do. You can make excuses for them all you like, but you’ll always be making excuses for them, Lydia. Always.” I lowered my head to hers, eye to eye. “It was the same with Rachel. She had different men every week, and then she’d cry and say she was sorry, that she’d try and be better and she needed me to love her, that I was all she had. I blamed her for letting herself down, blamed me for trusting too much, but ultimately she let me down, and your mum let you down, too.”
A single, lonely tear slipped from her eye, trailing a slow path down her cheek. I wiped it away before she could, choking on the urge to taste her pain.
“Thank you, James,” she said, squeezing my hand. “That means a lot.” She leant forward to land the softest little kiss on my cheek. I closed my eyes to blank her out, fearing I’d kiss her back. “I think I’ve done enough talking now,” she said. “Can I have another wine?”
I released her tiny hands from mine and reached for the bottle.
I didn’t pull my chair away from hers, not even when the conversation lightened and we were back in the realms of friendly colleagues. Lydia perked up well, firing off a couple of text messages to her vampiric mother with the promise that she’d sort her life out in the morning. I could have throttled the woman. The image of a scared little girl peeking through the bannisters at her drunkard mother twitched at my fists. The girl was made of steel, steel housing a whole load of pain, years of pain and fear and desperation. It made her all the more beautiful to me.
Cat’s eyes danced in the candlelight as we finished up the second bottle. She leant forward in an uncharacteristic display of closeness, resting her forehead on my shoulder. “I’m drunk,” she said. “But I had a great night.”
I rested my chin on her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. Coconut and lavender. “As did I.”
She sat herself back upright, smiling. I knew something was coming before she even opened her mouth. “Was Rachel your true love? The only one for you?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Hell would usually have to freeze over for me to answer that question.”
“But not tonight. You’ll tell me tonight, won’t you? It’s that kind of night, and I told you about my mum.”
“So, it’s tit-for-tat now, is it?”
She laughed. “Kind of. I dunno.”
“I loved a girl before I loved Rachel, a crazy girl who dreamt of running away with the circus. She was a livewire.”
“Tell me about her.”
“She was young, crazy, reckless, gifted... free... passionate. Beautiful.”
“She sounds quite special.”
“She was very special.”
“What happened to her?” she asked, eyes boring into mine, eyes just like the woman she spoke of.
“She ran away and joined the circus as far as I know,” I smiled. “I went to university, and she flew away. She begged me to go with her, I begged her to come with me. Neither would have worked, not really.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not. I thought it was a shame for a long, long time, until I met Rachel.”
“Where did you meet?”
I sighed. “It’s time for bed, we have meetings in the morning.”
She pouted, and the urge to suck on her bottom lip made my mouth water. “Can’t you just answer that one final question?”
“What difference will it make?”
“It will make a difference to me,” she said. “Just one short answer, please. Indulge me.”
In my mind I saw Katreya’s smile as she disappeared out of sight, goading me to follow her. I took a breath. “I met Rachel at work. We worked together.”
“At work?” I could see the surprise in her face, as surprised as everyone else had been by my deviation from the corporate persona.
“Yes, at work. It was a mistake, it’s always a mistake.”
“But she was worth it? Worth making a mistake for?”
I smiled, standing to leave and pulling her with me. “Sometimes mistakes are worth making, Lydia Marsh, but only sometimes.”
***
We rode just three floors in the elevator, but it took forever. Lydia leant gently against my side, her hand curled around my waist to burn at my ribcage. I knew I should push her away, regain at least some marginal distance as professional associates, but I didn’t. She felt too fucking good; her soft form melting so perfectly against the hard lines of mine. She’d be sleeping in the room next door, mere metres away. The thought made my dick twitch, but my resolve held firm as she rooted her bag for her keycard, placing my own firmly in the lock and preparing to say my goodbyes.
She looked over, eyes pale as moonlight and so fucking pretty. Her toes were turned in, one foot tapping gently on the spot.
“I guess this is goodnight, then,” she said.
“I’ll see you bright and early, Lydia. Breakfast at seven-thirty.”
“Sure, yeah, seven-thirty.”
I turned away, destination my empty hotel room, but in a heartbeat her hand was on mine, pulling me back to her.
“James, wait. I just wanted to say that I’m not a talker. Nobody knows that shit about my mum, not apart from my friend Steph, and Stu, he knew too.”
I smiled. “You don’t have to worry, Cat’s-eyes, I’m a silent witness.”
She pinned her bottom lip. “I didn’t mean that. I trust you. I just wanted to say thanks, for listening. It really helped.”
“I’m glad I could help.” My mouth was turning dry, a pulse in my temples. Go to bed, James, go to fucking bed.
“I really enjoyed myself tonight,” she continued. “A lot.”
“Me too.” I opened my door again and she stood watching me, her toes resuming their tapping. I feigned ignorance, turning back only to wave her goodnight. She looked crestfallen, retreating with rosy cheeks. Her
keycard danced in her hands like a fish, skittering to the floor. She cursed under her breath and dived on after it. Her skirt hitched up, outlining the gorgeous perky swell of her ass through the fabric.
Fuck no-one you know, know no-one you fuck.
Fuck no-one you know, know no-one you fuck.
Fuck no-one you know, know no-one you fuck.
I looked into the silence of my room: the perfectly-made bed, the case unopened on the dresser, the cute little tea and coffee tray, and satellite TV, and then, stupidly, I looked back. I looked back at my green-eyed Cat.
She was still watching me, her door half-open.
“Goodnight, James,” she whispered.
“Goodnight, Lydia,” I said, but still I hovered.
We stared at each other, the air thick in the corridor, so fucking thick I could hardly breathe. Finally, she disappeared, sighing as she went and leaving only the creak of her door as it eased its way closed.
I caught it just before the lock clicked.
She spun in shock at the intrusion, but didn’t have time to respond before I was at her, my mouth on hers, hot and heavy and horny as sin. I paced her backwards while she grappled for balance, conceding to my force until she slammed into the wall. She let out a moan, opening her pretty little mouth. Her tongue danced with mine without reserve or restraint, as though she’d been waiting for this moment all evening. Maybe she had.
She tasted fucking gorgeous.
“This is a mistake,” I growled, my mouth still on hers. “A big fucking mistake.”
Her hands fisted in my hair. “Some mistakes are worth making,” she wheezed.
Her neck smelt of Rose, and White Lilly, and a hint of Amber. I licked at her skin, and she shuddered against me, tilting her head back to grant me access. I roved my way up to her ear, teasing at her earring with my teeth. I heard her murmur as I nipped the lobe, enjoying the short, raspy song of her breath.
“Yes...” she moaned. “Please... I like it rough.”
I pressed her tight enough to mash her tits against my chest. “How rough?”
Her eyes fell to the floor. “I’m, um, I’m trying to find out.”
“Let me help you with that.” Her fingers gripped my shoulders, her head lolling back as I grazed my teeth down her throat. She groaned at my touch, bucking against me for more. Sweet fucking Jesus. My dick strained in my suit, craving the silky soft heat inside her.
I backed up enough to palm her breast, a perfect handful, the hard little nub of her nipple ripe for my mouth. I dipped my head, sucking her through the fabric.
“Use your teeth... please,” she hissed. An explosion of white heat behind my eyeballs, the beast crying for savagery. I bit her as hard as I dared, a full mouth of delicate flesh begging me for pain. Her breath hitched, and she shuddered, arching her back to give me more.
I admired my work, her rosy nipple dark through her wet blouse, jutting just high of the lace of her bra. I wanted more. Fingers at her buttons, desperate for skin, but she stopped me, scratchy fingers on mine, plucking me away from her. I eyed her, full of questions, but she didn’t answer, just skirted sideways, taking me with her, her hand reaching across the wall. For the light, she was going for the light. I grabbed her wrist on instinct, pinning it above her head with more force than I intended.
“No fucking way, Cat. I want to see you.”
She bit her lip, and this time I did what I’d thought about doing a million fucking times before. I clamped my mouth over hers, hungry and feral and desperate, crazy for the beautiful fucking creature who’d driven me insane. I felt her unravel, bucking against me, her thighs either side of mine, needy for cock. I let her wrist go free, gripping at her ass through her skirt, curling my fingers under the hem. My balls ached at the promise of her tight wet slit, the sight of her spread and exposed and so fucking vulnerable.
“And I want to see you, James,” she said, yanking at my tie. My stomach clenched, the beast flaring on my ribs. The beast. I’d gone fucking mad already, dancing with disaster in Lydia Marsh’s hotel room.
“There’s something you need to know,” I said. “Something you won’t expect...” But it was too late, she’d already picked at my shirt, pulling it open to my nipples. Her eyes widened to saucers, her hand at her mouth as she paled before my eyes. Motherfucking hell, was it that much of a shock? I looked down at the head of the beast, its inky black tendrils, seeing it through fresh eyes, just as she was. Of course it was a fucking shock.
Fuck no-one you know, and know no-one you fuck.
Mr Corporate had fallen apart right in front of her fucking eyes. My balls bellowed in frustration, stilted lust twisting a knife in my gut. I backed away with a growl of obscenities, buttoning up my shirt before she could blink.
“Shit, Lydia, this wasn’t supposed to happen.” She didn’t speak a word, just gawped like a slack-jawed idiot. I fought the urge to choke the breath from her, shake her into submission until she fell to her knees and worshipped my cock to teach her manners. I grabbed my tie from the floor, smoothed down my hair. “I hate fucking clichés, but can we forget this ever happened?”
I didn’t wait for an answer, pacing my way to the exit as fast as my legs would carry me. I’d almost made it when she called out, her voice all weak and pathetic.
“James... wait.”
“I’m sorry, Lydia, this was my mistake. I’m very sorry.”
“Wait... please. Just wait a minute.”
I rested my forehead against the door, ears ringing with regret and embarrassment and self-recriminations. Fuck this shit. I went for the handle, breaking for the corridor, one foot in no-man’s land before I heard her speak again.
“Masque! Please, for God’s sake, just wait a minute!”
Now it was my turn to gawp like a slack-jawed idiot.
***
Chapter Ten
Lydia
James stopped dead in his tracks, one foot still inside the door.
“What the hell do you know about Masque?”
“I saw him... you! I saw you! At Explicit, last weekend, I was there with Rebecca and Cara, and I didn’t know it was you, I swear!”
He edged back inside. “Rebecca took you to Explicit? Why the fuck would she do that?”
“I wanted to go... I wanted to see.”
“Well, now you’ve fucking seen. I need to go. I shouldn’t be here.”
“No, no, no!” I hissed. “Please, Masque... James... don’t go.”
His eyes met mine, and this time they were the shadowy eyes of the man in the mask. I couldn’t help but smile. Seduce James Clarke and you’ll get your time with Masque. Cross my heart. It was so fucking obvious; his bulk, his manner, his perfectly chiselled jawline, his relationship with Rebecca. “I’m glad this is amusing you,” he said. “It’s not looking so funny from where I’m standing.”
“I’m not laughing, it’s just all falling into place.”
“You’ll have to enlighten me.”
I sat on the bed and put my head in my hands, deep breaths in and out. “I heard Rebecca and Cara, you know... in the kitchen. I didn’t expect to feel anything, but it turned me on, ok? And Rebecca knew, she heard me, and she took me to Explicit, just to see. I didn’t think it would even be my thing, but then there was this guy... this incredible guy... commanding this redhead on stage like she was the only woman in the entire universe, and this man, with the chimera tattoo from Rebecca’s wall, was so powerful, so compelling, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he said. “I need to leave now, Lydia, let’s call it a day.”
My heart pounded. “You don’t understand!”
“What’s there to understand? You saw a freak in a club, it was me. End of story.”
“I didn’t see a freak,” I wheezed. “I saw a God, James. I wanted to be her. I haven’t stopped thinking about that man, not for one single second. Ask Rebecca, I’ve been driving her mad.” I looked up at him, desperate for his reac
tion. “Please don’t leave. Not yet.”
He came to the bed, got down on his knees, placed hot hands over mine. “I hurt people, Lydia, but I wouldn’t have done that with you, not here, not tonight. This was just about you and me, two people in a hotel room. I wouldn’t have hurt you, Cat, I promise.”
I smiled at him, at the absurdity of the whole situation. “You’re not listening to me, James. I want you to. I want Masque. I want James Clarke too, but I’m crazy about Masque, I can’t get him out of my head.”
He squeezed my knuckles. “You don’t want either, trust me.”
“Don’t tell me what I want, ok? Don’t treat me like an idiot who doesn’t know anything.”
He sighed. “I’m not treating you like an idiot, I’m telling you the truth.”
I hated the way he looked at me, like some cute little dolly who doesn’t know shit. Not like the proper women from Explicit, not like Rebecca and Cara and all the other perfect minxes he hung with every bloody weekend. I pushed him away, got to my feet. “You think I don’t know what I’m talking about? I’ll show you. It’s why I was going for the light, James, I didn’t think you’d like it.”
I unbuttoned my blouse, shaky but resolute, slipping it from my shoulders and unclasping my bra, revealing my bruised tits. His eyes widened as I jiggled out of my skirt, presenting myself in just a small pair of lace panties, nervous but unrepentant. I twirled slowly and I caught him swallow, soaking in every wheal and bruise.
“Rebecca’s work,” he said calmly, a smile twitching at his mouth. “I should have guessed.”