A Deadly Affair—The Femme Fatale Series Page 4

  He loved his home and considered it his forever home, the place his children would grow up in and the place that his grandchildren came to visit and have occasional sleepovers. But, he couldn't help but feel that sting when he saw properties like this. The grounds were absolutely stunning, perfectly maintained to appear elegant and well put together without denting its qualifications as a fantastic family home. When the seller first bought the property, there had been some stables in the yard beyond the back door. According to the sales file, this had been changed into a self-contained flat, or, 'Granny Annex' , as they were often called.

  Or the place to crash after a major argument with your wife, Greg thought, smiling.

  The house boasted 4 reception rooms, a game room with a bar, 5 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms and a large cellar that could easily be turned into another room. The kitchen, for Greg, was the selling point of the house. An enormous open-plan room with breakfast bar and double oven, you could entertain a whole room of dinner guests within that room and keep everyone comfortable and happy. The expensive marble worktops and oak cupboard doors were exactly to his liking and many time whilst reviewing the Anderson property, he'd pictured he and Cynthia living in this grand house, their children playing on the land with Jesse, safe within their own grounds but still with the sense of freedom.

  Greg lowered his head then shook it.

  Never gonna happen. Best get your game face on to show the place to people who can afford it.

  Greg awkwardly juggled his papers and briefcase in his hands as he approached the front door. Only after Greg was standing in front of the door did he realise his error. With a file in one hand, papers tucked under his right arm and his briefcase clutched in his left fist, he'd made it an impossibility to reach the keys tucked in his front right trouser-pocket. After juggling the files and briefcase around, determined to achieve his goal without placing any items on the floor, he managed to fish the keys from his pocket whilst holding his items in place with his raised knee and left arm.

  Red-faced, Greg inserted the front door key and glanced around. Pleased to see no-one in view, he shook his head at his own antics.

  Professional? More like Mr. Bean.

  With a sigh of frustration, Greg turned the key-then frowned.

  It wouldn't turn.

  Oh great. If I have to call the office because the key doesn't work...

  Distracted by his own thoughts, Greg tugged on the door handle. He was unprepared for the door to open in his hand, but that's exactly what it did. Greg frowned deeply, perturbed and alarmed.

  Why was the door unlocked? Or, more importantly, who had unlocked it?

  He knew Sheila had shown the house a couple of days earlier. Had she forgotten to lock up after herself?

  Greg peered inside, his eyes darting left and right, checking all sides of the huge foyer. Nothing seemed amiss. Although burglary crossed his mind, he quickly dismissed the idea. How many burglars used keys?

  Greg entered the house somewhat cautiously and placed both files down on a round centre table in the middle of the foyer. He placed his briefcase on the floor then straightened up, looking around. The only explanation he could think of was Sheila had forgotten to lock the door after her last viewing. Though this was so unlike her, Greg supposed it could happen. If the potential buyer had been chewing Sheila's ear off, perhaps regarding an issue or enquiry about the gardens, maybe Sheila had left believing she'd locked up behind her. Greg would need to call her attention to her potentially disastrous mistake, but he wouldn't report her for it. He liked Sheila, he respected her, so he'd let it go this time.

  Greg's relief was short lived however. Just because the door had been left open by Sheila, didn't mean there wasn't someone here now, someone who'd happened upon an empty mansion with an unlocked entrance.

  It was then that another possibility occurred: maybe the owners were here for some reason? Though it was their home, they should have discussed a visit to the property with his office beforehand. Greg frowned and looked around again. He was going to have to look around before the potential buyers arrived.

  “Hello?” he called loudly. “Is anyone here?”

  “Mr. Allen?” a faint voice called back.

  Greg stiffened. The voice was female and unfamiliar.

  “Yes,” Greg called back. “I'm supposed to show the house at 2.20pm.”

  The high-pitched female voice replied, but much of the answer was muffled, though Greg heard the words 'Master bedroom' clearly.

  Were the owners re-decorating?

  Annoyed, Greg began to make his was up the wide staircase. This looked very unprofessional and he thought it fair to assume that whoever had requested him for this viewing wouldn't be asking for him again.

  Wondering what possible improvements were being made to the already impeccable master bedroom, Greg didn't hesitate to ponder how odd this situation was. Only when he'd entered the master bedroom did he realise something was going on.

  Something bad.

  The fire was burning in the centre of the room, the artificial logs glowing bright red. Candles, red and white ones, flickered, casting shadows across the mantle-piece, the bedside tables and a chest of drawers. A white sheep-skin rug lay sprawled in front of the fire, its bright colour giving the impression it was brand new.

  Greg had just enough time to register shock, surprise and wonder before the door closed behind him. He swung around startled, an involuntary cry of shock leaving his lips.

  Ashley smiled seductively as she turned the lock on the bedroom door.

  “Hey lover,” she whispered.

  Wearing a red bra with a matching thong and black high heels she smiled seductively her red lips glittering in the flickering candlelight.

  “Ashley. What the hell are you doing?”

  It was very obvious what Ashley was doing, but Greg was so stunned by the sudden turn of events that he almost felt detached from reality. She began to walk towards him, the glazed look of a seductress in her dark eyes.

  Tell her once and for all to leave you alone. Walk past her, walk out of the door and leave.

  That's what his brain told him to do. Unfortunately, his body had a mind of its own and stubbornly refused to follow orders. He merely stood frozen as Ashley approached, his heart beating fast. The constant worry of being caught out and the endless promises never to betray Cynthia again became fuzzy memories as Ashley placed her hands on his chest.

  “Ashley ,please,” Greg begged. She needed to stop this because he couldn't, he didn't have the willpower.

  “Please what?” she whispered. Leaning forward, she pressed herself against him and licked his neck once, twice. He turned his head away with the last ounce of willpower he possessed, though he was unable to make himself step away from her. Ashley straightened up and pulled Greg's face towards her.

  “Please what?” she whispered again. Reaching behind her, Ashley unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor. Lust almost completely consumed Greg as he stared at her full breasts, so close to him.

  “Please this?”

  Taking Greg's hands she placed them on her breasts, moaning has he softly thumbed her nipples. Shuddering with desire as his erection throbbed almost painfully, Greg closed his eyes and mentally begged for the power to stop this. He concentrated on an image of Cynthia: her long dark hair; her trusting eyes; Ashley's breasts in his hands; the words 'I love you' on Cynthia's lips; his throbbing erection, aching for Ashley's body mere inches away; making love to Cynthia, every inch of her body familiar; the urge to ram his penis into Ashley whose body was new to him and exciting.

  He was losing the battle. The more he tried to picture Cynthia, the stronger Ashley's presence became. When Ashley unzipped his trousers and pulled out his erection, the last ounce of willpower dissipated. He pulled Ashley to him and kissed her deeply, moaning in pleasure as she stroked his erection passionately.

  The next 30 seconds or so passed in a flash of discarded clothes, underwear, even his socks.
In the warmth of the glowing log fire, Greg made love to Ashley Lane on the sheepskin rug, all thoughts of Cynthia chased away by pure unbridled lust.

  Chapter Five

  Mike fidgeted and sighed. He checked his watch for the fifth time.

  Eight minutes had gone by since he'd last checked. He sighed again and scowled at the Anderson house. Exactly 32 minutes had gone by since Greg entered and in that 32 minutes no-one else had gone inside. Mike felt the squirmy feeling in his stomach, the excitement almost bubbling over. His phone was in his hand, finger poised over the record button.

  This time, he'd get proof of Greg's infidelity.

  He'd been so stunned on Thursday evening, the surprise of seeing Greg screwing a blonde over his desk that recording the event to use against Greg hadn't even occurred to him. He'd merely stood and watched, both aroused and furious with Greg. Why steal Cynthia from him that night only to betray her a few years later? If that's what Greg wanted for Cynthia, he should have just let Mike have her. Not to mention, the secretary was hot. Mike had seen her around and fully intended to acquaint himself with her, preferably naked. He'd always been a sucker for beautiful women, and Ashley Lane was no exception. Then, like the snake in the grass he was, Greg darts out and fucks the girl over his desk.

  Mike shifted again in his seat, this time out of anger rather than boredom. Damn prick. Well he'd just stolen two girls too many.

  Mike knew there was something fishy about this house showing the second he'd heard about it. Why would someone viewing a home for the first time ask for Greg? If the person was a friend of Greg's then Greg would know in advance about the viewing. Mike had immediately enquired about Ashley's presence in the building, asking for her by name only to be told that she'd gone home sick one hour earlier. Suspecting the two had arranged a rendezvous in the empty mansion, Mike had followed Greg and, disappointed watched him into the house, alone. But, the front door had been unlocked. Perhaps Ashley was already inside?

  Mike pictured Ashley naked, gasping and moaning in pleasure. His body responded to the daydreaming and he squirmed, the pressure in his groin almost unbearable. The memories of Ashley bent over Greg's desk as he'd pounded her from behind played out in Mike's mind and he groaned aloud. Keeping his eye on the Anderson house and his mobile phone ready to record, Mike settled into the memory of Ashley: the perfect body, the sexy noises she'd made, the expression of ecstasy on her beautiful face. In his fantasy it wasn't Greg who was giving her so much pleasure. He remembered the sounds of flesh smacking flesh and imagined his own thighs causing the sound as they smacked off Ashley's buttocks. Mike had no idea how long Greg and Ashley had been at it before he'd happened upon them but they'd changed position after a few minutes. Mike remembered his breath catching in his throat and his lack of breath as Ashley had straightened up and turned around, throwing her arms around Greg's neck and kissing him deeply. Greg had responded passionately, wrapping his arms around her and pushing her backwards. It ended with Ashley on her back, her legs wrapped tightly around Greg's waist, his name on her lips as she'd experienced a powerful sounding orgasm. Mike remembered all the details as they'd been, but imagined it was he who had made the beautiful Ashley scream like that.

  Though the fantasy was a pleasant one, he was becoming so aroused that his throbbing erection began to feel very uncomfortable. Reluctantly, Mike forced the images aside and focused instead on his plan to ruin Greg. Once he had the proof on his phone, proof that Greg had met another woman in a vacant mansion, he fully intended to show Cynthia. The longer Mike sat there, however, the weaker his plan seemed. If Cynthia was to fall into his arms as he planned, she needed to view him as a friend. If he approached her with video proof of Greg's infidelity he may come across as foe.

  He could watch Greg's affair with Ashley deepen whilst working on bonding with Cynthia. Greg couldn't be in two places at the same time. Whenever Greg left Cynthia to see Ashley, he could go to Cynthia's home on the pretence of seeing Greg. He could become the shoulder for Cynthia to cry on, the one who's always there for her when her husband isn't.

  Mike grinned wickedly.

  If he worked it from that angle, he may be able to get Cynthia into bed before she even knows of Greg's affair. He'd have to be clever, of course. Plant little seeds of suspicion here and there, stir things up when the opportunity arose.

  Hell, he could even ―

  Mike jerked upright. The front door was opening. He hit the record button seconds before Greg stepped outside. Mike smiled, though he felt anger.

  Greg's face was flushed, his hair a little mused and his tie crooked. There was no doubt in Mike's mind―Greg had been doing something in there that interrupted his dress.

  Mike's smile widened when Greg hesitated in the doorway. He turned sideways and spoke briefly to someone out of Mike's view. If he was speaking to a potential buyer, he'd have brought them outside to show them the grounds, wouldn't he? And Greg wouldn't be leaving the house before a potential buyer, anyway. Mike adjusted the zoom feature filling the screen with Greg's face just as he turned. Now there can be no doubt as to the man's identity.

  “Got you you bastard,” Mike muttered grinning. He zoomed the camera back out and tracked Greg as he hurried to his car. Mike zoomed in on Greg's face once again as Greg slammed his car door shut and put his seat belt on. Gripping the steering wheel with both hands, Greg became still and stared ahead for a few seconds before burying his face in his hands.

  Beautiful, Mike thought.

  He kept recording as Greg uncovered his face, threw his head back and pounded the steering wheel, his lips moving quickly as if muttering furiously to himself.

  Done something we regret have we? Mike grinned in delight, his fantasies featuring Cynthia in his bed becoming more of an achievable goal rather than a daydream.

  Visibly distressed, Greg started the engine and threw the car forward, his feelings evidenced by his rough treatment of his vehicle. Mike recorded Greg's screeching exit from the Anderson house with delight, keeping his phone on the speeding vehicle until it disappeared before focusing the camera on the mansion's front door once again. Mike didn't think he'd ever experienced this level of excitement in his life.

  He had Greg. He had him.

  Now he just needed a shot of Ashley leaving and his video evidence was solid. Still unsure of how to use it to his advantage, Mike shifted in his seat almost panting in anticipation. How long would Ashley wait, or, how long had Greg told her to wait? Though Mike was positive Ashley was in that house, he began to worry. What if she stayed inside for another hour or so? He wouldn't be able to sit here recording for that long, his battery would die. And he couldn't stop recording or he could be accused of editing the video. What if Ashley left by the back door? She and Greg had obviously planned this. What if they'd prearranged Ashley's exit via the back to avoid being spotted? What if―

  Mike jerked in his seat as the front door opened. A wicked grin split his face as Ashley stepped in to view.

  “Gotcha,” Mike muttered triumphantly. There she was, the ultimate proof of Greg's infidelity, far more compelling than any assurance from him or any rumours that may reach Cynthia.

  Though Mike's ultimate goal through all this was winning Cynthia for himself, he let his eyes take in all of Ashley as she turned her head from side to side. Her long blonde hair hung just passed her shoulders, looking lighter than it did in the office. She wore a white blouse, her white bra showing through it, and a long black pencil-fit skirt.

  Mike gritted his teeth, his anger surfacing. Another beautiful woman that should have been his. Though the outfit Ashley wore was classy and professional, it didn't mask the beautiful body it covered: the see-through blouse, the skin tight skirt and the bare flesh beneath, bare flesh that mere minutes ago Greg had held in his arms as he'd thrust into her.

  Tonight, Greg would lay in bed beside Cynthia, her love and trust for him as strong and sure as it had been on their wedding day. Mike shook his head and zoomed the camera in, t
he whole screen now showing Ashley's face. Ashley continued to look around before apparently deciding it was safe to leave. The camera caught the smile playing on her lips as she turned and bent down to pick up a plastic shopping bag. Mike zoomed the camera out and watched Ashley place the carrier bag down outside the front door before disappearing inside the house. She returned seconds later with what looked to be a rolled up rug.

  Sheepskin, Mike realised.

  Ashley closed and locked the front door to the Anderson house, the carrier bag swinging from her wrist before walking down the garden path towards car parked on the street.

  Directly in front of Mike.

  Still recording, Mike ducked down and prayed his sudden movement hadn't caught her eye. When he heard her car door slam and engine roar to life, he relaxed and sat up slowly. He saw the back of Ashley's car driving away and raised his phone to record it. Mike smiled in triumph as he straightened up all the way and squinted at his phone. He pressed stop and replayed the last few seconds of the recording before playing it from the beginning. It was perfect. He couldn't have asked for better proof if he'd hired a private investigator.

  I have to plan this properly. I can't mess this up.

  Mike checked his watch, surprised when he realised the time. Instead of making a move on Cynthia, perhaps he should work on Greg and Ashley? Maybe he could cause a few problems in their affair and Greg would trip himself up. Mike drove back to the office, pondering the different angles. By the time he arrived, he had his plan all worked out. Instead of working on Cynthia immediately, he'd focus first on Ashley. She thought Greg was an amazing guy. It was time she learnt otherwise. Excited at the prospect of snatching two women from Greg at the same time, Mike began his research on Ashley.

  Chapter Six