Becoming His Mistress

by Murphy, A. E.

  “I’ve wanted you for so long… I didn’t stop to really think about this.”

  “You have to go home to your wife, and you haven’t been able to shower after what we did,” I whisper, sounding and feeling as pained as he looks. “And I’m going to have to sit beside her and listen to her talk about her life, knowing that I have the power to rip it apart.” I twist my hands in my lap. “I don’t feel good about this. This isn’t the kind of person I ever wanted to be.”

  He pulls over suddenly, almost going straight into the back of a parked car and then he presses his forehead to the steering wheel. I give him a moment to deal with his emotions.

  After a few minutes I place my hand on his shoulder and he sits back up, his eyes troubled and confused. “I’m a selfish fuck.”

  “We both are.”

  “Oh my God, what have I done?” He suddenly starts cursing in a string of Italian, I hear Maria’s name in his anguished rant that I don’t understand. “I’m taking you home.”

  I don’t say anything. How can I? It pains me to see him so conflicted.

  “What are you going to do?” I ask softly, placing my hand on his thigh.

  “I don’t know. Probably nothing. I just… Elizabeth. It will hurt her.”

  I wet my lips. “It was one time. Yes, it was bad of us, extremely so. But don’t tell her. Don’t rip your family apart because of a moment of weakness. Don’t let me be the reason Maria ends up in the middle of an ugly custody battle.”

  He gazes at me with tormented eyes and holds my hand. “It wasn’t a moment of weakness. You’re not a regret or a mistake.”

  “Then what am I? Your dirty little secret? Your second best?”

  “You’ll never be anybody’s second best.” He cups my cheeks, sorrow etched in his features. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

  “There is no fixing it. What’s done is done.”

  “No. Not fix that. I mean fix it so I don’t have to lose you.”

  “You don’t belong to me,” I snap, my voice takes on a higher, desperate tone.

  “No… but I want to.”

  I kiss him before I can stop myself, tasting his tongue, feeling his lips, holding on to his hair and yanking until he growls from the pain. He returns the passionate forbidden kiss with equal fervor, gripping my hair and pulling me as close as the console between us will allow.

  I rip away, panting, feverish, and deliriously aroused. “You’re a drug, Ezra. A bad one.”

  “I could say the same about you.”

  “Go home to your wife, Mr. Conti.” I check my belt and then my face in the mirror while he does the same, though he also adjusts the huge lump in his pants.

  A stab of pain lances through me, slicing my heart to pieces when I think of him in another woman’s bed tonight. The woman he promised himself to. A woman who will never be me.

  “This can’t ever happen again.” I’m trying to be the voice of reason, figuring if I say it out loud it will manifest. “My two weeks’ notice stand.”

  “Like hell they do.” He puts the car in drive. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Ezra… please be reasonable.”

  “I am being reasonable,” he snaps. “You’re the best PA I’ll ever have. I’m not losing you because I’m in love with you. We’re stronger than that.”

  He said the words… my heart aches.

  “Think about it from Elizabeth’s shoes. If you were her and you found out she fucked and loved somebody else and continued to work with them every day, what would you do? How would you feel?”

  “She’s not going to find out because we’re not saying anything. What’s done is done.”

  “Would you want to know if she—”

  “I don’t know,” he barks, twisting his hands on the steering wheel and flicking up the signal before pulling out. “I don’t know. I just know I don’t want to hurt her or my family. Especially Maria.”

  “I know. I’m not going to say anything.”

  He rips a hand through his hair and curses some more in Italian.

  “I’m sorry I ever put you in this position,” he says to me after a moment and I kiss him again, unable to resist, he hums softly, unable to say no too.

  After a moment we part and just look at each other in the dark.

  “Let’s go.” I cup his cheek and smile, wishing I felt like this about any other man. Pax not included. “We’re still friends, right?”

  “I hope so. The ball in this case is in your court.”

  Now we just have to figure out how to actually stay friends that don’t touch. It’s going to be hard.

  He’s thinking the same thing; I can tell when he cuts into the silence between us. “Don’t quit your job. Not on my account. We can do this. We can go back to how things were.”

  “The problem isn’t if we can do it, it’s if we want to do it.”

  “If only there was a switch to be flipped.”

  “I was thinking that exact thing.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  We have so much fun together.

  “Can we talk?” Pax asks, his eyes weary and dark.

  I shake my head and keep moving. So many heavy conversations as of late.

  “Please.”

  “It’s not going to change anything, Pax,” I reply, frustrated and tired of this. I just want it over.

  “I still love you.”

  I pick up my pace, heading for the deli I usually get lunch from.

  “Don’t fucking ignore me. I’m tired of you ignoring me!”

  “Stop shouting at me,” I grit, turning to face him now, tapping the tips of my fingers against my thighs. “I said leave me alone. You fucked up my car, my building…”

  “I just…” He looks at the people who are walking past us, looking at us with curious gazes, and grabs my arm, yanking me to the side of the building I was about to pass.

  “GET OFF ME!” I shriek, readying myself to run.

  “I JUST WANT TO TALK TO YOU!” he bellows in my face, slamming me hard up against the brick wall of a busy clothing store. My head throbs where it hits the wall, but he doesn’t care about that. Neither does anybody else. Nobody steps in, of course they don’t. I’m not their problem. “Please. Let’s just talk.”

  “Fine… but in the deli. Okay?” I don’t want to but right now I just need to get somewhere public with surveillance. My head hurts from where it hit the wall.

  “Sure.” He looks relieved and I feel it too. Relieved because he agreed.

  We walk side by side to the last place we ate at before I broke up with him and he turned psychopathic. I’m twitching like crazy but trying to control myself. I don’t want him to see that he has any kind of effect on me. He holds the door open, I’m not happy to see it so empty but then this is a late lunch so I suppose it can’t be helped.

  We move to the counter and to say this is strained would be the understatement of the century. Though he looks entirely relaxed and smiles at the barista as I make my order.

  “I’ve got this,” Pax murmurs, pulling out his card.

  “No,” I say firmly, shaking my head at him. I don’t want him thinking I owe him anything.

  “I said I’ve got this,” he repeats and the barista laughs, giving him flirtatious eyes. She’s totally not seeing that I hate him. I’d say she can have him, but I wouldn’t wish his kind of crazy on anyone. He taps his card against the machine after saying his order too.

  I’m no longer hungry.

  I dance my fingers on the table when he sits opposite me, counting in sixes until forty-eight. He lets me, smiling at me with that charming smile I loved once.

  “I missed your little quirks,” he says, pouting and placing his hand over mine.

  I slide it free and continue tapping.

  One, two, three, four, five, six, one, two, three four five, six…

  “I miss you, I’m sorry about everything I did. I’m changing, I’m seeing a therapist.” He looks at me earnestly. “Losing you re
ally opened up my eyes.”

  “Being with you really opened up mine.”

  His smile falters but he doesn’t get to comment because our number is called. He stands to get our lunch and drinks and I consider running.

  Instead I pull out my phone and send a quick message.

  Rose: Going to be late, Pax has me cornered in the deli.

  Ezra: He’s not supposed to go within a hundred yards of you! I’m on my way.

  Rose: Don’t, please. Let me handle this.

  Ezra: I don’t like this.

  I don’t get the chance to reply because he’s snatching my phone from me. When he reads who I’m texting on the lock screen he glares at me and then slams my phone so hard on the table I just know the screen has cracked. The few people in here look over.

  I sit back, stiff as a board as he slides my phone my way. I don’t touch it. I don’t want to provoke him.

  “Sorry,” he mutters. “It’s just… you texting him when he’s the reason we broke up… it makes me angry.”

  “He’s not the reason, Pax,” I respond gently, like speaking to a grizzly that is standing in the way of your exit. “You are. Your anger, paranoia, the things you did to my car and building. It’s not okay.”

  “I’m getting better.”

  “You just smashed my phone. You’re not getting better.”

  “I’m trying, if we just could give it another go, maybe go on a couple of dates, even just as friends.” He reaches over and runs a finger down my cheek. I fight the urge to slap it away. I’m so anxious that both of my legs are bouncing. “I really do love you.”

  “I know.”

  “Then please, just… be there while I get the help I need.”

  “How about, you get the help you need and then we’ll talk about being friends?” I’m lying, I want nothing to do with him ever again.

  “But then you’ll move on to somebody else! I can’t stomach it. It makes me feel so fucking angry.”

  I see the door open as he takes a bite from his food, able to still perform normal everyday things such as eating while in the middle of trying to intimidate me back into his life. That’s when you know a person is seriously messed up.

  Ezra walks in panting as though he has been running and I give him a little shake of my head. Him stepping in is the last thing I need right now.

  I’m surprised to see one of the security guards enter after him, he too is panting.

  I look down at my bagel just as Pax looks behind him.

  I’m surprised when he’s able to school his features and demeanor toward our boss. “Mr. Conti, it’s been a while.”

  “It sure has, mind if I join you?” Ezra asks and a muscle ticks in Pax’s jaw. He sits beside me, casual and relaxed as Pax regards him and then me. He looks so handsome today in a white button-up and gray pants. He discarded his jacket this morning but kept his blue tie, I don’t know where that is now.

  I’m hoping he hasn’t taken it off because he anticipated a fight.

  Still… he looks so good. A welcome distraction in this mess of a situation.

  It was hard to keep my hands to myself, but I buried myself in my work and stayed out of his office. When I did go in his office, I left the door open and opened the blinds. He barely even looked up from his desk. We haven’t spoken about last night either.

  I lay awake all night wondering if he was going to tell his wife and wondering if I was about to be dragged out of bed by his mother.

  I’m almost looking forward to going home, just to get away from all the people I have betrayed. But now, taking this situation into consideration, I’m wondering if going home is possible.

  “What have you been doing lately, Pax?” Ezra asks, a smirk on his face and I notice that he has shaved just the edges of the stubble he’s been growing the past few days. He looks so good with a beard.

  “Just working,” Pax replies, and I startle when Ezra reaches across and picks something out of the back of my hair. I’m not sure there was anything in there. What is he playing at?

  Pax shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty to be getting on with, Mr. Conti. I’ll have Rose back to her desk in no time.”

  “I’m good here.” Ezra glares at Pax, a clear challenge if I ever saw one.

  Pax looks at me, pleading with me with his eyes but then it dawns on him. “You told him to come.”

  “I told him I’d be late, I didn’t tell him to come,” I respond honestly. “You make me nervous, Pax.”

  “You’re also prohibited from coming within a hundred yards of her.” Ezra flicks a piece of something from his arm. He’s so chilled out. “You’ve gone against work rules.”

  “I’m not in the building.”

  “It doesn’t apply to only within the building,” Ezra seethes, pulling my seat back with one hand, with me in it. “I’m going to escort Ms. Sinclair back to her desk, you’re going to stay away from her, or I’ll fire you. Is a woman really worth your job? You’re the best PR manager that we have ever had. Don’t ruin a good thing.”

  “Is she really worth your marriage?” Pax hisses, narrowing his eyes on Ezra who tenses beside me. “Is she worth your life?”

  “Is that a threat?”

  They sneer at each other for a moment longer until Pax stands and tips the table just enough to spill both the drinks our way. The table slams back down and Ezra and I pull back from the spill as his security guard grabs Pax by the back of the neck and drags him from the building.

  “Thought you weren’t fucking him, Rose?” he yells over his shoulder as I use napkins to wipe the coffee that spilled all over my lap. Thank heavens it wasn’t hot.

  “He’s disturbed,” Ezra mutters and thanks the barista as they bring over cloths for us to clean up with. He looks at me and takes my hand in his. “Are you alright?”

  I pick up my phone and show him the shattered screen. “Nope.”

  “You need to report this to the police.”

  “Yep,” I whisper, still holding his hand. “I stink of coffee.”

  “Me too.” He guides me out of the deli with a hand at my back. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

  “You have that method meeting in less than two hours.”

  “Fuck the meeting, Rose. You’re shaking.”

  He’s right, I am shaking. “He scares me.”

  “I want you to stay at my mom’s place for a while longer. Until you’re safe.”

  If he wasn’t married, he’d have been able to stay with me. “I’ll be fine.” My words are a lie, I’m not sure I will be fine, but I can’t live with his parents forever, not while this guilt consumes me from the inside out.

  “Please,” he begs on a whisper. “Just until we figure this out. I’ll get my dad to call the mayor, pull a few strings and hopefully get him locked up where he belongs.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I look down at my coffee-stained white shirt and blow out a breath.

  “You’re staying at my parents’. You don’t even have a phone.”

  “I’m not,” I snap, looking around to make sure nobody is listening. “I’m going home. If you want me to be safe so bad, then stay with me.”

  His eyes flare, the gray flashing with excitement. “You know I would if I could.”

  “I need to get out of these clothes.”

  When he raises a brow, I flick him on the forehead. “You know what I mean. Jerk.”

  “I’d like a demonstration.”

  “You’re okay, you have spare clothes in your office. I don’t have anything.” I sigh and pull on the bottom of my shirt again. This is torture. “I’m going to keep a spare in my desk from now on.”

  “Does that mean you’re not quitting?”

  I flick his head again making him wince and grab my hand with a big grin on his face. “Stay on topic.”

  “Right… clothes.”

  We head across the road to a small boutique and I pick out some light jeans and a sky-blue shirt. There is no formalwear but consideri
ng the circumstances I think I’ll get off without a warning this time.

  I’m not even sure if these clothes will fit. I hope so. I went up a size just in case. It’s not like I can try them on while I’m all gross and wet in the bad way.

  We head back to the office, ignoring everybody on the way. My clothes feel tight and uncomfortable, the coffee is damp and sticky. This is hell on earth for me.

  The second I’m in his office I head to the en suite and strip out of my clothes. I don’t pay Ezra any mind because I’m silently freaking out.

  He locks his office door; I hear the telltale click. Then his footsteps pad closer slowly as I use a wet flannel on my body, leaving a pool of water on the tiles beneath my feet.

  “I watched you do this before,” he murmurs, leaning against the doorjamb, his shirt on the floor with my soiled clothes. His chest is as chiseled as a statue… his body like Brad Pitt in Troy. One of my favorite movies… ahem.

  I’m so lost in how he lets his trousers drop, revealing his massive erection, that I almost forget what he said.

  “What?”

  “Halloween,” he mutters coming closer, stopping when his glorious chest is against my back and his cock is trapped between us, separated by a thin layer of fabric. “I was in my office having a breather when this big, inflatable—"

  “Sex doll.”

  He chuckles. “—T-rex came inside, inebriated. She went into my personal bathroom, turned on the light and rid her delectable body of what little clothing she had on.” His hands wrap around my waist which is damp from where I just cleaned it.

  “I’m so glad I didn’t need to pee,” I grumble, and he laughs at our reflections, his chin on my bare shoulder. “I thought we weren’t doing this anymore?”

  “We’re not,” he whispers, biting my ear and slipping his hand into the front of my damp panties. Damp because I was hoping they’d wash, and I wouldn’t have to go commando for the rest of the day. Also damp because just looking at him makes me gush like a waterfall. “We’re never doing this again.”

  His finger sinks into me and then drags the moisture back to my clit.