Masked Definitions

by A. E. Murphy

  I feel as though I’m stepping out of my bubble of protection.

  We head home, courtesy of Elijah’s driver, and I quickly curl up in the lounge on the wide windowsill after stealing a pillow from the couch to sit on. I can’t find my mp3 player so I settle for playing music through the TV instead. Max seeks the comfort of the games room, leaving me to suffer alone. It’s less than I deserve.

  “Is there a reason you’re curled into a protective ball?”

  I look up and stare blankly at Elijah. He reaches down and takes my wrist in his hand.

  “What time is it?” I ask, looking around me, feeling disoriented and out of sync with myself.

  “It’s almost eight. I just got in and saw Max on his way up to have a shower.” His hand comes to my face and his thumb smooths away an errant tear from underneath my lashes. “You’re sad?”

  “I’m stuck,” I whisper and another tear falls. I can’t stop them; I’m not sure that I want to. I feel foolish, crying in front of a man that hardly knows me, but I feel as though, at this point in time, he’s the only one that could understand how I feel.

  When his arms close around me and mine around him, my trembling body begins to settle and my heart slows to a relaxed pace. I allow his heat to seep into my aching limbs.

  He feels warm and safe, despite the fact that I’ve always seen him as cool and dangerous.

  I appreciate that he doesn’t speak, that he doesn’t try to offer me any awkward consolations that he probably doesn’t mean. I like that he simply holds me until I’m able to stand alone without a quivering lip.

  I inhale deeply. He smells of a peppery scented aftershave with a hint of him, that masculine scent that I associate with him. It’s a scent I can’t name or describe.

  His large hand comes to my neck and his fingers press deep into the tissue. I groan quietly and close my eyes, wishing I could just sleep right here, right now.

  “We need to stop this,” he says and steps away from me. “It’s wrong. The kind of fallout it could create…”

  Nodding, I turn back to the window and sit back on the cushion. Cars in the street below drive by and people walk the wet streets of York, their umbrellas raised to the sky. “I know.”

  “We’ll talk more when Max has gone. I’ll be in my office; I have a few calls I need to make.” He takes another step back and bites hard on his lower lip before wetting it with his tongue. “I’ll find you.”

  “Okay,” I say softly and watch him back out of the room.

  Padding upstairs, I enter my temporary bedroom and stare at our few bags of belongings on the ground by the door. Max can be heard singing from the shower so I take the moment to replenish the empty pill case in his wallet.

  I pull out the image of us both together. It was taken on his sixteenth birthday. You can only see our faces squished together; he’s kissing my cheek and I’m smiling with squinted eyes. I loved him so much. He was my everything.

  But ever since he…

  “Are you going through my wallet?” Max asks. I hadn’t noticed that he’d finished showering.

  “Just filling up your pill box.”

  “Thanks, I totally forgot.”

  “You always do,” I murmur and climb onto the bed. I watch him change and admire his body. He’s so handsome, his body so tan and toned. I wonder how, though. It’s not as if he works out a lot and he eats more cake than a baker. The thought brings a smile to my lips.

  “Miss me?” He asks after finishing getting ready for work.

  I grin mischievously. “Probably not.”

  His lips touch my own and he winks before smoothing his hair back, grabbing his wallet from the desk and heading out. Normally I’d see him out but I can’t be bothered with the walk. This house is just too big.

  I wait in the living room for Elijah while the TV plays some show in the background that I pay little attention to.

  It’s not until I’m nearly dozing on the couch that I finally feel his presence in the room. I sit up a little when he sits beside me, my legs automatically uncurling from beneath me.

  “I think we’ve made a bit of a mess of things,” he states and rubs his face with both hands. I nod my agreement and he stares at me for a long time. I can almost hear the cogs turning in his head.

  “I want us to be amicable… friends, if you will. Without this…” His hand points between us both. “Tension between us.”

  “Agreed,” I say softly and stare at the wall. “Nothing good can come of this.”

  “Exactly.” Leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his knees. “When do you go to work?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Why do you dance, Olivia?”

  “I like it and we needed the money.”

  He looks thoughtful for a moment. “You’re good at it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How exactly did you get into it?”

  I grin, never having been able to tell this story before. “I was working in a laundrette about four years ago when this woman came in. She always came in on a Thursday and she always washed lingerie. Nothing else. Just lingerie. We got talking and she told me that she taught a class in the basement of some gym in town.” I curl my legs back under myself and turn to look at him. My elbow rests on the back of the couch and my head on my fist as he rests back to watch me tell my sordid little tale. “I’d done gymnastics as a young child, not much but enough to make me flexible enough to start at a more intermediate level. At first it just started out as a way to escape Max…”

  “Escape Max?”

  “Things weren’t… Max has issues. I don’t want to get into it.”

  He frowns but says nothing, only nods for me to continue.

  “I realised I was good at it, so good that Selby took me under her wing. She taught me things that I never would have learned otherwise.”

  “Like?”

  “Like how to tease, how to touch, how to make a man climax without the usual foreplay.”

  “Well… she taught you well.”

  I smile and scrunch up my nose playfully. “I never dreamed of doing it for money. I mean… how would I do it and get away with it anyway?”

  “And that’s where Rick comes in?”

  “Actually I sought him out. Selby told me about him, said she used to dance for him but then went private after she divorced her husband.” I wave my hand to dismiss that strand of the story. “Anywho, I started just a few months ago and you know the rest.”

  His icy grey eyes take me in and I wonder what he’s thinking. Does he judge me now more than before? Does he find my choices distasteful?

  It feels like a lifetime before he finally speaks. “You seem so different. The girl I see before me seems to radiate such an innocent energy. I feel protective… as though instincts that have long since been lost are suddenly being awakened.” That’s nice; I like that. “But when you’re in that room, wow… you’re entirely different. You emit an energy that makes me want to devour you, inch by glorious inch.” His hand walks along my thigh before coming to settle on my hip. My breath hitches. “I’ve never felt more… primal. You strip me of everything that makes me human and leave nothing but man.”

  I watch as he leans in and I move to meet him. I want to kiss him. I want to let him devour me like he just promised, but… we’re following a white rabbit straight to hell. “We shouldn’t.”

  Groaning, he pulls back and adjusts himself. “I don’t know why you make me this way.”

  “Ditto.”

  His grin is one of triumph. “Let’s eat, take our mind off other things.”

  “That’s not possible,” I mumble, feeling the moisture pool between my legs.

  “Sure it is.” He stands and holds out a hand for me to take. I do so and allow him, just barely, to pull me up from the couch. “What do you want to eat?”

  You, I think but don’t say. “I’m not sure.”

  “I’m craving fried chicken.”

  “Fried chicken?”

&
nbsp; He nods, looking almost childish. It’s sweet. It warms me inside and makes me smile with him.

  Grinning, I skip into the hall and grab my jacket. “Let’s go get us some fried chicken then.”

  In the car, I mess around with the radio without his permission, though he doesn’t seem to mind, and we set off on our mighty quest to recover the fried chicken for the Lord Duke.

  “Is there anything you want that we can’t get at this place?” He asks kindly.

  “Yup.”

  “What is it? We’ll go there too.”

  I smile secretly. “Nothing we can buy… well… nothing I can buy anyway.”

  He grasps my hidden meaning and clears his throat. “So… why is it that neither you nor Max have taken driving lessons yet?”

  Good question. I notice the subtle rejection too, how he’s swayed my naughty thoughts back to my husband. “We’ve never had money for a car so it seemed pointless.”

  “Is it something you want to do?”

  “Of course. I want to travel. I have this romantic fantasy that I’ll one day buy a motorhome and travel across the UK and Europe. “

  “It sounds like heaven. So you’re not a sun, sea and sand kind of girl?”

  Shrugging, I look out of the window at the scenery blurring by. “I’m an ‘everything’ kind of girl. I love History, places full of culture…”

  “Where have you visited so far?”

  “In the UK?”

  “In the world.”

  “You’re looking at it,” I say and motion to the windscreen.

  His lips part. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “Didn’t you go anywhere on your honeymoon?”

  I laugh a little. “We stayed in the Sublime Hotel in York.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” I cringe with him. “Max gets nervous in new places.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Don’t you do anything without Max’s say so?”

  He knows I do. He knows exactly what it is that I do without Max’s say so. “I dance.”

  His body seems to shudder at the sound of my lowered tone. I still affect him. This brings me no small amount of pleasure.

  We pull around the drive through of the fast food chain and order a bucket of chicken that’s larger than either of us can handle. Normally I would feel guilty for eating such fattening food but I’m going back to work tomorrow and will no doubt burn it off in a few hours.

  “Thank you,” I tell him as we pull away.

  “I want to take you somewhere.” He says suddenly.

  “You do?”

  “Yep.” He takes a sip of his milkshake through the straw and places it back in the cup holder. “You in?”

  Does he even need to ask? “Let’s go.”

  The streets are dark as we weave through them; the bucket of chicken is only a degree away from burning my thighs and emits the most amazing smell. My stomach growls hungrily because of it.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.” He grins, the glow from the streetlamps casting shadows over his face that only seem to highlight how handsome he is. “You’re staring.”

  “I can’t help it. You’re so pretty.”

  He laughs loudly. “Just what every man wants to hear.”

  “You don’t care.” I pat his hand on the console between us and drop the tone of my voice. “You primal man, remember?”

  “Cheeky,” he mumbles, still smiling.

  “What’s it like being Duke?”

  “It doesn’t actually have much standing anymore.”

  “Do you get paid for it?”

  “Yes, but only because of the properties and such passed down through my family.”

  That is cool. “I wish I had a heritage. It’d be nice knowing where I come from.”

  “It certainly has its perks.” We drive for ten more minutes before exiting the city; I’m surprised that I don’t feel nauseous. I must be getting used to the motion of driving.

  The way Elijah handles the car with such ease, I cannot help but find it sexy. There are many things about him and things that he does that I find sexy.

  “You’re staring.”

  “I can’t help it; you’re just so pretty.” I repeat my earlier statement quietly and his fingers pinch my thigh, making me squeal and pull away from him.

  It takes us only a short while longer to finally enter the vast countryside. We pull down what seems to be a random side street that runs alongside a massive field. I see a gathering of trees in the distance.

  “Are we going cow tipping?”

  His chuckle is deep and throaty. “No, we’re not going cow tipping. Whatever that is.”

  “Are you planning on leaving me out here?”

  “Perhaps.” He wags his eyebrows at me, only the glow from the radio screen illuminating his face enough for me to see it.

  Finally we pull into a large, gravel carpark. There seems to be nothing around us for miles. I recognise the spot to be a popular place for car boot sales in the summer, though I’ve never actually been to it before.

  I swallow, a little nervous. Elijah pulls his seat right back after pulling up in the centre. Is he expecting me to fuck him out here?

  “Chicken,” he says and grabs the bucket as I begin to hand it to him. I turn the radio down so that it’s nothing but a low murmur in the background. Sia sets the mood with ‘Alive.’

  We eat in comfortable silence. I pull chicken pieces from the bone and eat them daintily, too scared to make any kind of mouth noise in the silence.

  “I can see the stars.”

  “This is only a fraction of what you can see when you travel to more rural places.”

  “Such as?”

  “Alaska for example.”

  My mouth falls open. “You’ve been to Alaska?”

  “It’s absolutely magnificent.”

  “I’m jealous.”

  “You’ll go one day,” he assures me, though I’m not assured.

  After we’ve finished, we clean our hands and Elijah opens his car door. He motions for me to do the same. I do so, rubbing my arms when the chill in the air nips at them. After dumping the bucket into the boot, he rounds the car, takes my hand and leads me back to his side. Then he sits and spreads his legs. At first I think he’s asking me to kneel between them but then I realise he’s asking me to sit between them.

  “Come on,” he urges and gives my hand another tug.

  “I’m really confused.”

  “I can see that.” He manages to pull me into the space between his thighs. My arse only just fits on the edge of the seat. His chest feels warm against my back and I shiver when his breath caresses the delicate curve of my neck. “Okay, so lesson one… you know what a clutch is, right?”

  “I’m not totally thick, you know…”

  “And you know what it’s for?”

  “You press it down and change gear?” I guess, hoping it’s right.

  “Correct.” He shifts in the seat and takes hold of my hands before guiding them to the wheel and letting go. “Start the car.”

  I do so, twisting the key in the ignition. He teaches me about the clutch having a biting point, showing me the sound it makes when I have it, and then before I know it we’re moving around the carpark in a super slow crawl. My grin is so wide it’s painful.

  “This is ace!” I say and he shows me how to shift into second gear. We only go around and around in circles but it’s amazing. It feels like the first time I played in a go-kart. I know it’s not the same but the excitement is similar.

  I used to love racing it around the paths near my house.

  “You’ve got it,” he says in my ear and, all too soon, we stop.

  “That was amazing.” I squeeze the steering wheel, loving the feel of it in my hands. “Was I okay?”

  “Perfect.” His hand comes up to cup my chin and I feel him apply gentle pressure as though to turn my head his way. I do so, twisting slightly in my seat. His lips
find mine in the glow and his hand goes to my thigh. “We can do this,” he whispers against my mouth and his fingers trail down my throat before moving to the bottom of my shirt. He cups my sex over my trousers and pulls me back into his body. “Just one last time. Maybe then my thirst for you will be sated.”

  “I hope not,” I whisper and his answering groan courses through me, amplifying the tingles I feel as though I’ve been struck by lightning. My body pleads with me to turn around and straddle him. He answers and pops the button of my trousers. A gasp escapes me and I throw my head back against his shoulder when his fingers part me and tease my sensitive nub. They spread the wetness around before rubbing in slow, strong circles that send pleasure burning to my feet. It’s so potent I feel it in my nose.

  “Oh, god,” I cry, shifting in my seat as my core clenches and aches for something to fill it.

  “The noises you make drive me crazy,” he says through gritted teeth and presses his hardness against my rear. “I want in.” His finger plunges into my depths and reaches as far as it can go. His palm rubs against my clit and I know that if he does not stop, I’m going to orgasm.

  “Up,” he orders, removing his hand from me. I use the steering wheel as leverage to lift myself so that I’m hovering above his crotch. I hear the tell-tale metal clang of his belt as he undoes it after he tugs my trousers down to my thighs. Then I feel him rubbing himself against me, covering his cock with my juices.

  I moan and it’s loud. I feel as though I’ve been set alight. My arms weaken, which is new for me, and I sink onto him, sheathing him in my warmth to the hilt.

  He hisses through his teeth and rubs comforting circles into my back with his thumbs as his fingers grip my hips.

  “Fucking beautiful,” he grunts, thrusting his hips upwards as if trying to climb deeper.

  I press down and then raise myself slowly. Using his hands, he slams me back down and strokes my sides up to my breasts. His fingers sneak under my bra and swipe over my nipples.

  “Oh…” My head lolls forward onto the steering wheel and my hips move of their own accord in time with his thrusts. It aches, it pulses, it’s indescribable. It’s so wrong, so fucking nasty. We’re horrible fucking people but I need more. I want more. Like a drug to an addict, I can’t resist this. I can’t resist him.