A Deadly Affair—The Femme Fatale Series Read online

  Greg nodded. “Fine thanks. You?”

  Stuart or Stephen shook his head. “Rather be at home, pal. Can't stand these things.”

  Greg nodded, his smile genuine. I know just how you feel.

  “Are you moaning already?”

  The woman by his side smiled warmly at Greg then Cynthia. “It's taken me all week to convince him to come.”

  Cynthia prodded Greg. “This one's the same. He'd rather be at home watching television.”

  “Here, here,” Stuart or Stephen said before turning to his wife. “You get the joy of a night out. Come Monday, we get to spend the whole day listening to dirt on everyone who's attended. I swear, most of these people are like kids in a playground.”

  Greg nodded, deciding he liked this man. Stuart or Stephen's wife shook her head, smiling as if she couldn't quite decide what to do with her stubborn husband. With a wave goodbye, Stuart or Stephen followed his wife away from the bar.

  “He wasn't the happy child in his class, was he?” Cynthia said, smiling.

  Greg laughed. “He's right though. That's exactly what it'll be like on Monday. I'll find out what everybody got up to tonight, though I won't give a damn.”

  “We don't have to stay long,” Cynthia said, touching his arm. “We'll just have a couple of drinks then leave.”

  Greg nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

  He smiled warmly, then glanced around. His stomach felt like one giant knot of nerves and anxiety. They picked up their drinks and he led Cynthia away from the bar and to the farthest corner in the room. Hopefully, he could hide out there until Cynthia had decided she'd had enough and wanted to go home. He nodded greetings to those who noticed him. The majority of people stood together in groups, talking, laughing, some were singing. Greg wanted nothing to do with the large groups of people and hoped no-one, especially Ashley or Mike, spotted him as he all but dragged his wife out of sight.

  “Who are we hiding from?” Cynthia asked jokingly as Greg released her hand.

  “Everyone,” he replied, his tone light but his words serious.

  Cynthia smiled at him and rolled her eyes before turning away to observe the crowd of people Greg had just dragged her through. Greg stared at her, and the knot in his stomach tightened ever more.

  She hadn't been lying when she'd said her dress would have him drooling. It was long and red, the fabric silky and clingy. Though it oozed sex and seduction, she also looked classy and sophisticated. Her long dark hair was curled slightly at the end, shining when the twinkling Christmas lights caught it. Her make-up, as always, was minimal, but perfect. She didn't need to wear a lot, but the little she wore highlighted her perfect features beautifully-her high cheekbones, her dark eyes and full lips, painted red to match her dress. Greg felt like the luckiest man alive, and the most stupid, too. How could he have ever betrayed her for Ashley? Sure, Ashley was stunning, but she was the kind of girl Greg had always thought of as rather fake looking-the bleached hair, the darkened skin and excessive make-up. Women like that always made Greg wonder what they looked like without make-up and fake tan. His Cynthia looked just as good when she woke first thing in the morning with her hair tousled and skin bare as she did right now.

  He began pleading again in his mind, pleading that if allowed to avoid the exposure of his fling, he'd dedicate himself to Cynthia and only Cynthia. He vowed he'd never betray her or hurt her again. A crushing sense of loss assaulted him, even as he pleaded and prayed. If he was to be called out for his betrayal, no amount of praying was going to change that. He might need to start thinking about life without Cynthia as she may be packing her things and filing for divorce in the near future.

  “What's the matter? You look upset?”

  Greg looked at Cynthia, startled out of his thoughts. She regarded him with concern on her beautiful face, her eyes clouded with worry.

  “Nothing, hun. Just a house that I'm supposed to sell.”

  Cynthia frowned. “Are you sure?”

  Greg knew it was a lame explanation, but he went with it. “Yeah. I'm sorry for thinking about work on our night out.”

  Cynthia appeared suspicious, but she nodded. “That's okay. We'll-“

  “Merry Christmas!”

  Both Greg and Cynthia startled and jerked towards the shout. Greg's hopes sank when he found Mike standing behind him, a Christmas hat perches lop-sided on his head and the glazed look of an intoxicated man in his eye.

  Surely he wouldn't do this here? Surely he won't start a scene right now?

  Greg didn't know what Mike would or wouldn't do, he just had to hope that whatever he was up to didn't involve shouting out to everybody that Greg was a liar and a cheat.

  “Merry Christmas!” Cynthia said, smiling warmly. She held her arms out for a friendly hug, the action drawing Mike's eyes directly to her breasts. Instead of simply glancing at Cynthia's cleavage, he leered and cocked his head. To anyone who may be watching, they'd be given the impression that Mike was wishing her breasts a Merry Christmas. Both Cynthia and Mike laughed as they embraced. Cynthia planted a friendly kiss on Mike's cheek as his hand slid down and cupped her ass.

  “Hey, hey!” Cynthia nudged his away in a playful manner as Mike laughed loudly. Too loudly.

  Greg resisted the urge to punch Mike right in the face, but he knew the moment his fist connected, his fling with Ashley would become public knowledge.

  Bastard. He's trying to wind me up on purpose.

  Trying to appear unaware of Mike's devious plans, Greg extended his hand, which Mike shook without a moments hesitation.

  “Merry Christmas, pal,” Mike all but shouted. “Merry Christmas to you and your gorgeous wife.”

  “Thank you,” Greg said through gritted teeth. He squeezed Mike's hand a bit harder than necessary before letting go. If Mike noticed the subtle warning, he ignored it.

  “Anyone up for a dance?” he exclaimed. Grinning as his glazed eyes focused on Cynthia, Mike began to sway on the spot, twisting his hips and bobbing his head to the beat. Cynthia began to dance, but she grabbed Greg's hand before doing so. In no mood to dance, Greg led Cynthia with his one arm, twirling her around and trying to look like he was enjoying himself.

  “I'll have a dance with you, It looks like you're having fun over here in the corner.”

  Greg immediately froze as every muscle in his body became tense. That voice.

  Ashley. And it had come from right behind him.

  He turned just as Mike rushed forward. Yes, there was Ashley, standing mere feet away from him. She wore a skin tight dress with a plunging neckline, the fabric only meeting at her waist and giving a full frontal view of her breasts, nearly completely exposed save for the tape Greg assumed she was wearing to prevent everything falling out. The dress was black and lacy, very see-through and sexy. There was a slit on the left side, showing Ashley's bare leg all the way up to the waistline where the slit ended. Her blonde hair tumbled around her shoulders in soft waves, her dark eye make-up extreme and over-the-top. She smiled at him just before Mike grabbed her and spun her around.

  “I'd be honoured if you'd dance with me, my dear. Come on, shall we show them how it's done?”

  Immediately, Mike began grinding on Ashley, more dry-humping than dancing. Cynthia glanced at Greg, amusement on her face. He shrugged and tried to appear bemused as Cynthia wrapped her arms around him,

  “I see Mike is heightening his standards. If he can pull that then I think a well done is deserved. She's hot.”

  To hear his wife saying these things about the woman he'd made love to just the night before, who was now dancing right behind him with Mike, the only other person outside of the fling that knew it'd happened was too much.

  Greg had to get away.

  “Will you excuse me, hun? I'm just gonna go to the bathroom.”

  “Of course, I'll just wait right here. Though I'll make sure to stay away from that.” Smiling, she nodded her head towards Mike and Ashley, who appeared to be re-enacting scenes from t
he movie Dirty Dancing.

  God, please do stay away from them.

  “I won't be long.” He kissed her on the forehead then hurried away. They'd held the last two Christmas parties here so he knew where the restroom was. Once inside, he hurried to a stall, slammed the door shut and sat on the toilet lid. Covering his face with his hands, he tried to control the beating of his heart. The nausea that'd began bubbling inside him the moment he'd heard Ashley's voice hadn't ceased, if anything, if felt worse. From the events that were currently transpiring, it appeared his prayers had gone unanswered.

  At this moment, his wife was alone with Mike and Ashley, the only two people in the whole world that could ruin his marriage.

  And I'm sat here hiding in a toilet.

  Greg tried to pull himself together and stood slowly. If his fling was going to be made public, it could happen via Mike or Ashley. He had no idea what the game was, or what the outcome would be, but he knew one thing: he had absolutely no control over it. If Mike or Ashley were planning on announcing the fling, they were going to do it, and no amount of worrying or praying was going to change that.

  A heavy sadness smothered Greg then. The realisation that his future rested in the hands of Ashley and Mike make him seriously consider just telling Cynthia the truth. It should sound less humiliating coming from him than from one of those two, or, worse yet, hearing it in mindless gossip as she sits eagerly waiting to find out who the pig of a husband is just to learn it's her own. Though the plan had merits, Greg still didn't know what Mike and Ashley had planned. What if he were to tell Cynthia the truth only to find out later that they'd had no intention of telling his wife?

  Someone entered the men's room and Greg mentally shook himself. He'd be facing Cynthia soon. She'd be suspicious the moment she laid eyes on him in this state. He opened the cubicle door and began to walk to the sink when he stopped mid-stride. His mouth hung open, his eyes were wide in shock.

  Ashley stood by the restroom door, posed in such a way that her entire leg was bare. She folded her arms and stared at him, looking amused.

  “What do you want, Ashley?” The question came out shaky and croaky, due to his nerves and lack of saliva.

  “I just wondered when our next hot date is.” She swung her leg out to the side, leaving her inner thigh completely bare. Though he knew she'd done this purposely to get him to look there, he couldn't help himself as his eyes took in the tanned smooth thigh, the very same one that had been wrapped around his waist the night before. His heart hammered further when he saw she wore no underwear.

  “A quick one right here. What do you say?”

  “Are you crazy? My wife and all of the office is out there!”

  Ashley smiled seductively. “That's what makes this such a fucking turn on. Come on, slide it into me, just for a minute. I've been dying to see you again.”

  No. No. No. I can't do this. But, Oh God, she had no underwear on. No! You're married, you love Cynthia. I could just slide into her right now, who'd ever know?

  Greg shook his head forcefully and walked straight for the door. “Last night was a mistake, Ashley. I love my wife, I won't ever betray her ever again.”

  Ashley stepped to one side to let him past before rushing at him as he reached for the door handle. She spun him around so his back was to the wall and pressed herself against him.

  “You know you want me, Greg. You know you wanna fuck my brains out right now.”

  A mental image from the night before flashed through his mind, Ashley writhing on his desk, her legs wide open and wrapped tightly around him. The moment she'd cried out in pleasure as he'd thrust harder and she'd played with her nipples to heighten her own orgasm.

  Ashley smiled as his erection pressed against her. She grabbed his hand and placed it on her ass. Lifting her leg up and wrapping it around him, she pushed his hand down further until it brushed against her genitals. He moaned as she gasped. She began to kiss his neck as he stroked her wet centre and she writhed on his fingers.

  God, this feels so good. He nearly did it, he nearly threw Ashley against the wall and took her, but the sudden thought of Cynthia being on the other side of the door, waiting for him shattered his lust. He abruptly removed his hand and pushed her away. “I'm married. I love my wife. I won't ever betray her again.”

  He expected Ashley to be upset, angry even, but she merely smiled. Her face was flushed red and she panted for air as she smiled. “Hard to get, eh? Makes me want you even more. You want me as much as I want you. It'll happen again. Don't you worry. Now, you'd best get back to your wife, before she comes looking and finds you in here with me.”

  Greg didn't need telling twice. He all but ran from the men's room and back into the ballroom. Seeing a sink located in the corner, he washed his hands before searching for Cynthia. He didn't need to look far, she was exactly where he'd left her. Mike was no longer with her, instead she was talking to the couple from the bar, Stuart or Stephen and his wife.

  “There you are,” Cynthia said, smiling warmly. “Could it be you've actually been talking and socialising with your colleagues?”

  Greg was glad the lighting covered the deeply shameful blush that coloured his face. Cynthia handed him a fresh drink and Stuart or Stephen's wife continued with the story she'd been telling when he'd arrived.

  Greg smiled and nodded. He laughed when everyone else did. He danced with Cynthia and on the way home, he told her he'd had a great time. But the whole night, only one thing had been on his mind-Ashley. Ashley and her promise of a second sexual encounter. Though Greg was disgusted and ashamed with himself, he'd be a liar if he said he could be that strong a second time.

  Chapter Four

  Greg rested his head on his desk and sighed.

  Monday mornings sucked ass. Full stop.

  The paperwork that needed to be processed sat in a large pile beside his paper tray, mocking him. His secretary had called in sick this morning, so he had to wade through all that by himself. He could, of course, request one of the temp secretarys, but knowing his luck, Ashley would be the one sent to his office. After an amazing weekend with Cynthia, Greg wanted no part of Ashley ever again.

  He sighed again as he picked up the stack of paperwork. That was much easier said than done.

  Friday night had played on his mind many times over the weekend. Had they not been in a public place, Greg wasn't sure that he'd have been able to resist Ashley. Though he felt guilt and shame, the memories of Friday night, of Ashley seducing him in the men's toilets, and the memories of Thursday night in his office as he'd made love to her over his desk aroused him. Just one week ago he'd been a happily married faithful man with no problems. He'd been happy. Now, he lived every minute of every day shadowed by feelings of intense guilt and fear. Guilt at his betrayal and fear at the thought of Cynthia finding out.

  He'd heard nothing over the weekend, nothing from Mike and nothing from Ashley. He felt no comfort at the lack of contact. Ashley, according to her own words Friday night, fully intended on perusing him and Mike was just Mike. Some people may describe Mike as determined, Greg would use the words 'sore loser'. Mike was a pit bull in the office and would happily step on anyone, friend or foe, to get what he wanted. If Mike intended to cause problems for Greg, then he was going to. The longer that Mike failed to get in contact, even if just to taunt Greg, the more nervous Greg would become.

  Greg shook his head and took a deep breath. He'd done nothing but obsess all weekend about his predicament. If he didn't concentrate and sort all this paperwork out, he'd be stuck in his office after closing time. For obvious reasons, Greg needed to avoid that happening. About 20 minutes into the dreaded sorting of the paperwork, just about the time that Greg was seriously fighting the urge to dump all the papers into his shredder, someone knocked on his office door. Immediately, his stomach knotted. “Come in,” he called, dreading to see who may walk in at his invitation. The door swung open and Margaret walked in.

  Greg sighed in relief.

/>   Margaret was one of the secretaries allocated to this department, though she rarely had anything to do with Greg. A short, thin woman, Greg didn't know much about her, other than she was a hard worker and very quiet.

  “Mr Allen,” she greeted him as she shuffled some papers in her hands. “I've been sent by Mr Carter. He's received a request to show the Anderson house on Park Road. The potential buyer has specifically requested you to show the property.”

  Mr Carter was Greg's boss. A plain and simple man, he was easy to work for, provided you did as you were told and caused no problems. If you crossed the man, he could be your worst nightmare.

  Greg frowned. “I thought the Anderson house was Sheila's?”

  Margaret nodded. “It is on her books, but the potential buyer requested you by name. Mr Carter said if you'll go and show the property, he'll consider it a big favour.”

  Greg nodded. Sheila would be spitting fire, but if he'd been requested, that's all that Carter would care about. He couldn't take people's feelings into account when the potential to sell a half a million pound house was there. Greg thought of the commission.

  Screw Sheila. Plus, it'll get me out of the office.

  “I've got all this paperwork to process, though. What time is the viewing?”

  “40 minutes from now,” Margaret said, “ but Mr Carter asked if I'll stand in for Emma today, since she's called in sick, so it frees you up for this viewing.”

  Greg smiled. “Fantastic. If you don't mind?”

  “I do as I'm asked, Mr Allen. I don't mind at all.”

  Greg felt almost giddy as he gathered his papers, car keys and wallet. The thought of getting away from the office almost had him running for the door, but he composed himself and took his time. He'd studied the Anderson house, as had every other agent in the office, so he knew what he was doing and was fully prepared.

  Only briefly did he wonder whom the potential buyer was and why they'd requested him.

  *

  Greg pulled up outside the Anderson house, a stunning piece of property set in 4acres of land. He retrieved his paperwork and files from the passenger seat before stepping out of his car. He looked around, the sting of jealousy stabbing him like a tiny needle.