Scandalous Lies: An addictive, sexy beach read

by Nigel May

  ‘Fuck, sorry, man, I didn’t know you were …’ He left the sentence hanging for a moment, ‘ … busy.’ He stared across at Chloe, the sheet covering her breasts but her pussy still exposed. A smile spread wide and clown-like across his face as he took the scene in.

  Whether it was the provocative cocktail of fleshly juices still on Jack’s lips or the copious lines of coke he’d taken during their sexual athletics, something in Jack’s brain stirred. And if he wasn’t mistaken there was something stirring in Andy’s joggers too. The telltale tenting of the material as he looked at Chloe showed his evident and apparently rather huge interest.

  ‘Come join us, man, there’s plenty to go around.’ Jack was more than happy to have a threesome and the gender combo was not important. He and Andy had shared most things in life, why not take it into the bedroom?

  Chloe remained silent, her opinion equally unimportant and besides, if she wanted painkillers for Victoria, she knew the rules. This was Jack’s circus and he was ringmaster.

  As Jack returned to banqueting on Chloe’s wetness, Andy tore off his T-shirt, sweatpants and boxers and moved towards the bed, his erection ready for action. As he climbed onto the bed and began to fondle Chloe’s breasts, another three garments lay discarded on an already crowded bedroom floor.

  A pair of mud stained jeans, the knees marked with round green patches of dirt, lay on the floor, in complete contrast to the ivory coloured pure wool velvet bedroom carpet underneath them. Little dry flecks of deep brown mud dotted across the ivory material where they had loosened themselves from the denim as they’d been thrown to the floor.

  Tanya had been deeply eager to rip the jeans off Aaron as soon as she had the chance. After her experiences in Milan, she needed him. Both alongside her and inside her.

  She’d been watching him all day, Aaron’s first day back gardening for her and Devon since his return from the States. Devon had been there most of the day too, his presence deliberate, stopping them from having any kind of time alone. It pained Tanya greatly. She longed to feel the rough masculinity of Aaron’s body against hers. But while Devon sat, staring wide-eyed out into the garden from his vantage point in the study as Aaron beavered away, Tanya knew that she had to keep her distance from the gardener.

  She and her husband hadn’t discussed her affair with Aaron since their return from Italy. The air between them had been frostier than Italian gelato. But Tanya knew that Devon had spoken to Aaron. She’d watched them from afar as the two men confronted each other. Aaron had been setting up his tools for his day’s work at the bottom of the garden.

  Aaron had been expecting the encounter and watched out of the corner of his eye, pretending not to notice as Devon marched towards him.

  ‘You and I need to fucking talk.’

  Aaron stopped what he was doing and looked up.

  ‘I know about you and Tanya. You’ve been fucking her. She’s confessed all.’

  Aaron didn’t let on that he’d already been told by Tanya that Devon had discovered their secret. He didn’t say a word, powerfully still.

  ‘She’s my wife, and my property. You can just back off, or else …’

  Aaron broke his silence.

  ‘Or else what? Is that a threat?’

  Devon shifted from foot to foot as he eyeballed Aaron. He was obviously a man who didn’t thrive on confrontation.

  ‘Or you’ll be sorry … you don’t mess with me.’

  Aaron couldn’t stop himself. ‘Or what? You’ll get heavy handed with me, like you did with Tanya in Milan? What kind of sick fuck are you?’

  ‘You don’t scare me, Mr Rose, with your big brute force. You need this job, don’t you? You need the money. If you want paying then you don’t touch my wife. If I see you within spitting distance of her then you don’t see a penny. Let’s not forget that right now I own you.’

  The money will come from Tanya, so Devon could go fuck himself, mused Aaron.

  Devon read his mind.

  ‘And my wife won’t be stealing from me again, so you can forget about any payouts from that department.’

  It was true that until something better came along, hopefully wrapped up in a big Los Angeles sized bow, Aaron was in need of the gardening money. He was keen to draw the conversation to a close. ‘Then I’ll get on with my job, shall I?’

  ‘Yes, if you would. I was thinking of asking you to plant some wolfsbane. I think a copious amount of it would look incredibly good around here, don’t you? So pretty for Tanya to pick, too.’

  As Devon turned and walked away from Aaron, it was clear that he was indeed threatening the gardener. His choice of flower proved that. Wolfsbane, one of the most innocent looking yet deadliest flowers a gardener could work with.

  Aaron knew the plant well, as would any gardener worth their salt. Aconitum, also known as Devil’s Helmet and Monkshood, could cause multiple organ failure for a human just by brushing against it. The toxins of the plant, that was simple to grow in the UK given the right soil and location, could easily enter the blood if protective clothing was not worn when handling the flower,. causing death to even the strongest of bodies.

  Aaron had never worked with it and he never wanted to. But it was clear that Devon knew what he was talking about. There wasn’t a more murderous yet pretty flower around. A killer in a gorgeous purple coat. One that grew wild and free and wouldn’t be contained. A symbol that defied everything Devon stood for.

  Aaron watched as Devon disappeared back into the house. A chill ran across his body, not just caused by the coldness of the breeze. Devon was obviously a very dangerous and calculating man.

  It was hours later, at the end of a busy day’s gardening, that Aaron finally found himself alone with Tanya, Devon having left the house for a meeting. She had come to see him as he was putting his tools away.

  He had intended to tell Tanya about the threat that had been made against them both. He had intended to resist any advances that she made towards him. But both seeds of intention had landed on hard rocky ground with no chance of germination. Especially as Tanya wrapped her arms around him and pulled him towards her, her lips finding his and opening to allow their tongues to entwine together.

  As they began to kiss, the rock hard bulge in Aaron’s jeans proved that Tanya and her prurient advances were still able to wrap Aaron around her little finger. In just a few minutes they had returned to the house and Aaron’s jeans were discarded on the bedroom floor as he slid his member deep into her, the scent of the day’s toil still slicked across his skin. For a moment all thoughts of threats and marital nastiness subsided as the gardener and his rich Russian lover rocked their way to orgasm. Everything apart from their lust temporarily forgotten.

  Everything. Including the cameras installed at various places around the house to spy on Tanya. She’d assumed there wasn’t one in the bedroom they were using. Not in Georgia’s room.

  She assumed wrong.

  Later that night Devon watched the footage of his wife and Aaron fucking on the bed. His daughter’s bed. Devon had known it would happen. He could read Tanya like some smutty book. He knew how to pay her back. To hit her where it would hurt. This wasn’t just about betrayal, this was about coming out on top. Even if it could hurt him as much as it would hurt her. And Devon was already hurting a hell of a lot.

  Nova’s orgasm juddered to a flourishing finale, the steely feel of Jacob’s manhood still deep inside her as he too unleashed his love for her. Jacob adored sex and there were times when his demands for love-making were sometimes a little more frequent and unquestionable than her own desires actually wished for. But she worshipped him and even though she sometimes entered into a sexual bout of between-the-sheets activity with about as much enthusiasm as she did for a Botox injection, she had to admit that Jacob never disappointed. He was a skilled lover who would not allow his own orgasm to come before hers. And even if she wasn’t in the mood there was something about Jacob’s touch that ignited her.

  ‘I love
you Jacob.’ Nova stared up into Jacob’s eyes as a wash of climactic exultation spread across his face. They were the only words necessary to convey her complete adoration for her husband.

  Jacob withdrew his cock from her and turned over onto his back. ‘I love you too, darling.’ He reached for a cigarette from the packet on the bedside table. It was one of the few habits he had that irked Nova greatly. Especially when he lit up after sex.

  ‘Oh Jacob, if you’re going to smoke then please do it outside by the pool. You know I can’t bear the smell of it in the house. A filthy habit.’

  ‘Which is why we employ Juanita to spray the air in here as much as possible and make everywhere smell of gardenias and apple blossom and heaven knows what as opposed to my, as you say, filthy habit. I have not slaved away my entire life to stop myself enjoying the occasional cigarette in my own home. Especially the ones after a good shag like that. It’s one of the joys of life. So I suggest you drop it.’ Jacob lit his cigarette.

  Nova knew she couldn’t argue. But as Jacob flicked his ash and missed the ashtray positioned alongside their bed, sending the sooty flakes onto the bedroom floor carpet, Nova couldn’t stop herself.

  ‘Not on the carpet, Jacob. Please take it outside. Charlie and Georgia will be back soon and I will not have cigarette burns on the floor.’

  Sliding from underneath her silk sheets, Nova moved towards the bedroom door and wrapped the Ralph Lauren shawl-collar robe hanging on the back of the door around her.

  She turned back to face Jacob, who was also out of the bed by now, naked, holding the marble ashtray in one hand as he held the cigarette in the other.

  ‘Now, put some clothes on, for heaven’s sake Jacob. I’m off to grab Juanita. This room will need spraying and this floor still needs cleaning, there are bits everywhere.’ She let her eyes gaze longingly down Jacob’s body as she spoke, taking in the form of his chest and the sizable cylinder of flesh between his legs. Jacob spied her as she did so and made it twitch slightly. ‘Fancy a rematch?’

  ‘I’m not sure what’s dirtier, Jacob Chevalier, your filthy mind or this bedroom floor. Now get dressed, will you. I will not let Juanita see you like that. The poor girl will never pick up a vacuum hose again.’

  Nova smiled to herself as she vacated the bedroom.

  Fifty-Four

  Addison flicked off the television, the image of Jessica Lange in American Horror Story that she’d just been watching still drawn onto her mind. She loved that woman. Class, talent, a demonic streak at creating the most devilish of characters, and a sexiness that most women in LA could only dream of. Especially for a woman of Jessica’s advancing years. She was definitely another of Addison’s favourite females.

  But not even an hour watching one of her top actresses in action could shift the funk that had fogged across Addison’s mind.

  It hadn’t been the best of days. For once she wasn’t working on Super Nova as there was no filming to be done. Scenes had wrapped for a few days and wouldn’t resume until the following week.

  For starters, she missed Aaron. He’d made quite a splash with her during his stay and she wasn’t just thinking about their aquatic display of debauchery in the hotel shower. She was praying that he would bag the part on the pilot show as that would have him flying back to LA quicker than you could say 90210.

  Then there was the phone call earlier on from her agent telling her that the part she’d auditioned for in Clampires didn’t work out, so her hopes of spending some time at the mercy of a blood sucking mollusk were smashed like shellfish in the beak of a ravenous oystercatcher. And to rub extra salt into an already overly salty wound, it had been her flatmate Diana who had actually bagged the role and was currently slamming tequilas in some Hollywood backstreet bar to celebrate. It would probably be seventy-two hours before she returned back home. That girl had a Studio 54 mentality when it came to partying.

  But even all of that Addison could have coped with if it wasn’t for a nagging feeling that kept pulling at the back of her brain. It was something that had been playing on her mind for days. Something that she didn’t really know how to deal with. What was for the best? It had already caused her a few sleepless nights and she needed to make a decision.

  On a day where nothing had gone her way she decided to do the right thing. She picked up the phone and dialled.

  It clicked onto answerphone after eight rings.

  ‘Hello, Georgia. It’s Addison, can we meet? There’s something I need to tell you. Something important. It’s about Mitzi Bidgood.’

  Addison left her address and hung up. As she flicked the television back on she breathed a sigh of relief. She was definitely doing the right thing.

  Victoria flicked the television off and felt yet another tear of misery run down her face. She’d been watching Evie discussing her latest film on Rise and Shine. Her interview with that lovely, dashing Charlie Cooper had aired.

  Victoria loved having Evie in her life again. She couldn’t wait to see her again at the forthcoming charity event. She needed her. Needed a close friend. When was the last time they had enjoyed a special night out together? The two women had a lot in common and Victoria rued the fact she had let their union break.

  The jovial female host of Rise and Shine had mentioned the event after the interview. It somehow seemed even more fitting and poignant now that Mitzi was dead. Such a sad, mad, bad world. But had Mitzi been bad? Nobody knew. All explanations of what had happened to make Mitzi run off to Mexico for now remained unknown. The thought of Mitzi’s demise, no matter what had gone before it, made Victoria incredibly sad and long even more for the carefree days of her friendship with Evie and the girls at the Zumba group.

  Not that it was just the dancer’s death that was causing Victoria’s tears. No, the cause of her wretchedness was also the situation within the walls of her very own home. Scott was adamant that they were through. Seeing Lexi and Leo crying helplessly while their mother did nothing was the final straw for Scott.

  What did he need her for now? She was a danger to the children, no use around the home and lifeless in the bedroom. She had become a stranger in her own home. An imposter in her own clothes.

  Her only contact with those around her over the last few days had been to gain the painkillers from Chloe. Chloe – the woman who had replaced her. The woman who guarded her children and kept them away from the person who had brought them into the world. Victoria had tried for stolen moments with Leo and Lexi, but Chloe was unshakeable in her quest, obviously at Scott’s demands, to keep the twins away from Victoria. If she hadn’t needed the painkillers she would have jettisoned the young woman’s backside out into the North London streets straight away but she knew that keeping Chloe didn’t just alleviate her own pain. It also helped the children’s too. What was the point of farming them off to some new nanny, a stranger that they didn’t know or indeed want to know? At least they felt safe with Chloe, knowing that she was a familiar face in a home that had become a sea of raw bewilderment to them. Merely for Leo and Lexi’s pain alone, she had to keep Chloe under the family roof.

  What made it worse was that, clutched in Victoria’s hands as she switched off the TV, were the hand-delivered divorce papers that had arrived on her doorstep that morning. Even though they still lived under the same roof, Scott wanted out and he wanted out as quickly as possible. And he wanted the children too. Full custody. No court in the land would rule with the father, would they? Not one that could spend sixteen hours a day at work. Not one who would never see his children or be able to spend time watching them flourish into young adults. Not one without a woman at his side.

  But as Victoria popped a painkiller into her mouth and contemplated what her life had become and how Chloe had suddenly become mother to her own children, maybe even makeshift wife to her own husband, she realised that maybe it wasn’t just Leo and Lexi who were living in a state of raw bewilderment. Maybe she was too.

  Fifty-Five

  Column inches on the
horror of Mitzi’s Mexican mountainside demise were remarkably short lived. In a modern world where Instagram and Twitter allowed for an immediate fix of what had happened mere seconds before, the dancer’s tragic end was soon yesterday’s news. Tales of reality star ‘kiss and tells’, boy band gay confessions and red carpet romances soon pushed any visibility of Mitzi’s death from all of the UK tabloid front pages. Speculation that Mitzi had been behind the death of her boyfriend, Foster, screamed out from under the red tops for a day but after that, a sea of sensationalist silence returned as far as Mitzi’s story was concerned. It was old news, not instant enough to warrant anything more than a fleeting mention as the days rolled by.

  It was a fact that pained Georgia greatly as she scrolled through the various news websites on her MacBook in the middle of the night sitting in the kitchen at Nova and Jacob’s Bel-Air mansion. She couldn’t sleep. She and Charlie had been back from Tijuana for less than forty-eight hours and already all thoughts of Mitzi were fading away from the beady glare of the media world. On American websites her death had hardly figured.

  Charlie joined her in the kitchen, just back from one of the studios in LA where he’d been filing a live report back to Rise and Shine. With the time difference between LA and London any live reports were made during the wee small hours to cater for the UK breakfast newsmongers. He had told his bosses that the Mitzi story was the one celebrity piece of gossip he wouldn’t comment about or report on. Despite his current LA location, it was too close to his UK home life with Georgia. And how the hell could he speculate about whether Mitzi was in fact a murderer?

  His heart was breaking for his girlfriend. Every time he looked at her he had flashbacks to nights out alongside Georgia and Mitzi. Drunken happy evenings in bars watching the girls as they threw their bodies around the dance floor to the tunes of vintage Madonna.