Masterson Unleashed

by Lisa Lang Blakeney

  "Was he difficult?" I ask.

  "Not really. He has a wife, two kids and a mistress. He didn't want to fuck that sweet deal up. Plus he was more than willing to do it. Said the little prick Ethan and his daddy were a pain in the department's ass anyway. Least they could do was to make sure that your girl was taken care of."

  Camden snickers. "I'm not ever going to get used to calling her that you know. Your girl."

  "Get used to it, motherfucker."

  "Has she gotten used to the idea yet?"

  "I'm working on it."

  "Every fucking night I bet."

  24

  Elizabeth

  I'm spitting mad.

  That's why I've raided Sloan's closet and am wearing her super tight gold, cap-sleeved bandage dress and her gold fuck 'em girl pumps. I'm also permitting her to style my hair and make-up in whatever way she wants which is highly unusual for me, because I'm way more conservative than she is.

  Tonight she's given me a sun-kissed, Miami-styled, makeover with a red lip. She's also washed my hair, worked product in it to smooth out the frizz, and then flat ironed it into a long, straight, glossy mane. It's not me, but I've got to admit, I look hot as hell.

  After Sloan approves of her handiwork, she gets dressed, and we head out to a small lounge for a pre-birthday celebration. I'm turning twenty-four tomorrow, and a few of her co-workers are meeting us out for Friday night drinks. At a place that I'm pretty sure Roman knows nothing about. It's full of high-powered, high-strung, corporate types looking to unwind. Sloan is still on the hunt for her perfect corporate powerhouse husband and I'm … I just want to be anywhere that I know I won't run into anyone I know. I just want to be someone else tonight, because sometimes I think that who I currently am is not who I ultimately want to be.

  I was on a Target run the other day, and needed to check my bank account real quickly to make sure that I had enough funds to cover my purchase. I still haven't deposited the seventeen thousand cash that Roman gave me. I'm still deciding whether or not I'm going to keep it.

  So anyway, I check my bank app and am frackin' floored to discover that my balance is not around one-hundred and thirty bucks like I assumed, but rather it's teetering over the twenty-five thousand dollar mark. After choking back a sip of my hot caramel macchiato and then paying for my purchases, I started calling Roman, before I could even roll my red shopping cart out to the parking lot.

  "Duchess."

  "What the frack did you do!?"

  "Calm your tits baby. What are you talking about?"

  "There's twenty-five thousand dollars in my bank account, asshole."

  He laughed a little too heartily for my taste.

  "Most women would be happy they had that much in the bank."

  "Women who earned it."

  "I highly doubt that would matter, Duchess. Plus you earned every penny."

  "The job I did was not a twenty-five thousand dollar job. I didn't even go to Miami or New York to do the check-in's there."

  "Now you know there was no way in hell that I was going to let you go to either of those places without me, and Joseph's been watching me like a hawk, so per your instructions we took care of everything from Philly, baby."

  "Stop speaking to me in that patronizing tone,” I barked.

  "I paid you what the job is worth. Did you even do your homework on what jobs like that pay, Duchess? If we had hired a full-timer with experience to do the job, we would have paid at least seventy thousand a year. And that's low-balling it. This way we got the job completed for a fraction of the cost; we didn't have to pay you any health insurance and shit. Plus the icing on the cake was I received a stellar blow job to celebrate when you finished. That alone was worth the twenty-five grand in my opinion."

  "You're such a pig and a liar,” I sighed realizing I was probably fighting a losing battle.

  Roman was in all likelihood right about the salary. I didn't do my homework about salaries in network and computer administration, because it was never anything that I was seriously going to pursue as a career.

  I've always known (or at least believed in my heart) since high school that I would be a tech entrepreneur, not a salaried employee. But that's not the point. That's not why he gave me this money. He and I both know this is his way of back-dooring his way into giving me the investment money that I've been looking for.

  I don't know why he doesn't get it. He's practically been taking care of himself since he was a kid. I just really want to be able to say that I did this one thing on my own. Then he can spoil me all he wants.

  "I don't lie, Elizabeth. That's for all the little sheep out in the world who are afraid of consequences. I'm a wolf. We're predators, not casualties."

  "Oh please. You lie to Joseph everyday about all kinds of crap."

  "What the hell are you talking about, Elizabeth? Are you inferring that I lie to him about me and you?"

  "Well that's one of the things."

  "I'm lying because you asked me to! I'm doing it for you."

  "I know that. I'm just saying … that you lie."

  "You know what, I don't want to talk about this shit anymore. What do you want to do for your birthday Saturday?"

  "Nothing with you, Daddy Warbucks."

  "This shit again. You got a problem with how I earn my money Elizabeth? Is that why you won't take it?!"

  "I've told you a thousand different ways that I want to do School Bucks on my own. How do I need to say it so that you can receive it? In Spanish? In sign language? In frackin' Klingon!"

  "Keep raising your nerdy voice to me and see what happens, Elizabeth."

  "What!? What's going to happen? Are you going to sucker punch me too like you did Ethan?"

  "What the fuck did you just say?"

  "You heard me."

  Click.

  The jerk hung up on me, and I haven't seen or heard from him since. He's such a damn baby.

  So like I said … I'm spitting mad.

  I haven't texted him, looked for him or asked about him. My job networking the computers has been long over, so there's no chance of me running into him that way; and he hasn't been by the house.

  And you know what? It's been frackin' peaceful without him running rough shot all over my life. Ordering me around. Forcing money down my throat. Dictating when I can have an orgasm for God's sake.

  "So when we get in there I want you to look at the guy with the goatee."

  "He's your next victim?"

  "My future husband you mean?"

  "Yes ma'am that's exactly what I meant,” I chuckle.

  I've met some of Sloan's co-workers before. Three men and one woman. All of them sales reps for the pharmaceutical company she works for. One of the guys, Thomas, has always been a bit of a flirt with me and every other woman breathing. Nothing serious with me though, because he knows that I'm well aware that he has some poor unsuspecting girlfriend at home waiting for him.

  "Ladies,” Thomas drawls with some sort of fake southern accent. Sloan says it helps him with sales. Something about the gatekeepers at all the doctor's offices having a hard time saying no to the gentleman from down south.

  "Hey Thomas,” We both respond and he smiles extra hard at me. I'm figuring it's the dress.

  "You look fan-fucking-tastic, Miss Hill."

  "Thanks, Thomas."

  "Buy us a round of drinks, Thomas." Sloan says while she nods a hello at the mystery hot guy with the goatee. He is definitely not one of her coworkers. He looks like a professional athlete. Built, extra tall, wearing a man-bun, and sexy as hell.

  "What are y'all drinking?"

  "Well it's Elizabeth's birthday tomorrow. So shots are probably in order don't you think?"

  "Shots it is then. A preference, Elizabeth?"

  "Maybe lemon drop shots." I say.

  "Sure thing, Miss Hill,” Thomas grins.

  Oh brother, this is going to be a long night.

  I feel a buzz going off inside my clutch bag. It better not b
e he who will not be named.

  Nope, it isn't.

  Mom: Where are you sweetie?

  Me: Out mom. It's Friday night and my bday.

  Mom: Your birthday is tomorrow. I should know, I was there.

  Me: Haha mom.

  Mom: Your father and I are coming there for dinner.

  Me: Where?!

  Mom: Juliette's. She's cooking you dinner right?

  How does she frackin' know that already?!

  Me: Juliette called you?

  Mom: Yes is there a problem?

  Me: Joseph. Dad.

  Mom: They're grown men sweetie. They know how to act civilized for a few hours. We'll be there at seven. Have fun tonight.

  Ugh!

  Me: Bye mom.

  "Here you go, Elizabeth."

  Thomas hands me a shot glass and I gladly accept. I'm ready to numb myself and forget that I'm probably about to bring in the crappiest birthday I've had yet.

  "Thanks, Thomas."

  After about twenty minutes, two rounds of shots, several laughs, and some random chit-chat with Sloan's friends, Thomas gets around to asking me to dance. He's innocent enough, and I'm tipsy enough, so I accept.

  There's a small dance floor in the center of the room with two couples already dancing, and by the time we arrive on the dance floor the song changes from a radio dance record to a slower one. Sort of reminds me of the first time I danced with Roman at Joseph's party. Gosh, that seems like forever ago.

  I feel kind of self conscious now that everyone has a bird's eye view of me and Thomas on the dance floor, and when he pulls me in tightly to dance slower, I decide to go with it. I don't necessarily want to, but I don't want to make a big deal about it either.

  Thomas feels nothing like Roman.

  That's the first thought that enters my head when I clasp my arms gently around his neck. Why do I constantly compare every man that I run across to Roman? It's so annoying.

  "You okay Elizabeth?" Thomas asks.

  I'm sure he can feel the tension running through my body. Not only does he not feel like Roman, but he doesn't smell like him either. He smells like vodka. This doesn't feel right at all to me, and I'm only dancing. I can't imagine if I try to sleep with somebody else. That damn Neanderthal has cursed me.

  "I like this song,” Thomas says in my ear.

  I smile and nod in agreement. "Me too."

  "You want another shot?" He asks probably as an attempt to loosen me up.

  "No but a drink would be good. Anything with vodka in it. I like to drink the same type of liquor all night. Had a bad experience mixing stuff not too long ago."

  "Gotcha. Why don't you go sit back down, and I'll bring a vodka martini over for you."

  "Thanks, Thomas."

  I watch as Thomas's body becomes swallowed by the thirsty crowd at the bar. Twenty minutes later he isn't back yet, and Sloan is pissed.

  "Where did that jerk go? If he was going to leave, he could have at least closed his tab. Now we're going to have to pay for it."

  "Maybe his girlfriend called and he had to go." I say, but I'm not sure I believe my own words. I have a bad feeling about this.

  "Uh, so the hell what. He could have said good-bye. I'm going to kick his ass Monday morning."

  Everyone at the table laughs as if this is something that Thomas has done before, and even though I try to relax, I just want to double check that nothing bad has happened to him. I just have a feeling.

  "Did Thomas drive?" I ask the table.

  "Yeah the lucky asshole found a spot directly across the street. He drives a silver Lexus."

  "I'm just going to check and see if it's there,” I say.

  "No, Bitsy, it's your birthday chica. One of these bozos can look for him. Right, Matt? Right, Alex?"

  "His girl probably reamed his ass out and he had to go home. He's fine." Matt says. "I'm not wading through this crowd and going out there to see that his car is gone like we already know it is."

  Sloan's new sexy friend with the goatee, Todd, grabs her wrist and gestures for her to have a seat next to him, which completely distracts her from the Thomas conversation, and essentially ends it. So I excuse myself to go to the bathroom.

  After freshening up my lipstick and scrunching my hair with my hands to make sure it behaves the rest of the night, I decide that a little peek out the front door wouldn't hurt. I just want to see if his car his gone. I tell security that I'll be five minutes, so that he'll know to let me back in and he gives me a head nod in understanding.

  Not twenty seconds after I step onto the sidewalk, I feel a familiar prickling sensation across the back of my neck. I look swiftly to my left and to my right for the source, but I don't see anything but random, strange pedestrian faces. I make sure to take a long sweeping glance up and down and across the street, but I don't see a silver Lexus either.

  Maybe he did go home.

  I'm probably worrying for no reason. He's a big boy.

  I see a small mini mart store open on the corner and decide to make a quick run to buy a pack of mints and some gum before I head back inside. I toss my stuff on the counter and am checking inside my bag for some singles when someone walks directly behind me and up on my ass.

  I freeze like a deer caught in a pair of headlights.

  "You looking for your fucking boyfriend?"

  Roman.

  My blood begins to race. A reaction to his voice … a voice laced with fury.

  "What are you doing here?"

  Roman says nothing but places a ten-dollar bill on the counter, grabs my items, and pulls me outside. He pulls me around the corner where his Range Rover is parked. He unlocks the doors and orders me to get inside with a silent finger point.

  "I'm out with friends,” I say standing my ground. "I'm not getting in. Especially with someone who has nothing better to do than to stalk me."

  "This lounge you were in just now, where you were slow dancing with some lame motherfucker, belongs to a friend of mine."

  "And what? You were here by coincidence? You expect me to believe that."

  "Hell no. He called me and told me you were here."

  "Why!"

  "He knows you belong to me. He knew I'd want to know that you were okay. I came because I needed to put eyeballs on you myself. I'm a hands on type of boyfriend."

  "Boyfriend!"

  "I didn't stutter."

  "You must be smoking meth or something. I am so not your girlfriend. I'm not even your friend right now."

  "Why did you leave your little party?"

  "To get some gum."

  "By yourself in the middle of the night? Maybe you're the one who's on drugs. Or are you really out here looking for your other little boyfriend?"

  "Were you watching me in there?"

  "Yep."

  "How long this time?"

  "Long enough."

  So he saw me with Thomas. No wonder he's angry. My eyes shift anxiously.

  "I saw you dancing. Flirting. Letting that prick touch you in this piece of a dress, which you look hot as shit in by the way. And guess what? I didn't sucker punch him like I should have. Like I could have. Like you'd expect me to."

  All right maybe I deserved that. The Ethan comment I made the other day was a low blow. But that's besides the point.

  "Did you see him leave?"

  "Are you seriously still looking for him in the middle of our conversation?"

  "What did you do, Roman?"

  A bone chilling smile spreads across Roman's face.

  "What do you think I did?"

  "I don't know. What did you do? Where's Thomas?"

  "Thomas, huh?"

  Roman backs me up against the driver's side door of the Rover and the crazy Neanderthal has the nerve to be hard as a rock. I refuse to let that distract me though. Thomas could be lying in an alley somewhere gasping for his next breath, and I would be partly responsible.

  "Get in the fucking car, Elizabeth."

  "No!"

 
I reach in my purse for my phone. I'm going to text Sloan to come out and get me.

  "I swear to fucking God if you text someone sitting in that club right now, I'm going to strap you to my bed for a week."

  "You don't use straps you fake ass Dom!"

  "There's a lot I haven't shown you yet, Elizabeth, but best believe I will when the time is right."

  I start breathing heavily as Roman weighs his massive body heavily against me, leaning his forehead against mine.

  "I missed the shit out of you, Duchess."

  I close my eyes as Roman slides his right hand around the back of my thigh and hitches it up. My dress sliding up with it.

  "I saw you in this dress and I wanted to kill every motherfucker in that place. They were all staring at you. Plotting on what's mine."

  "Masterson,” I say reverently.

  "Did you miss me?" Roman's voice cracks just slightly, and I smell the chocolate on his breath. He's been eating M&M's.

  He missed me.

  I wrap my arms around Roman's neck and palm the back of his head like I do when we make love. I whisper softly on his lips, "Yes."

  And I feel a smile spread across his.

  "Happy birthday, Duchess."

  I just notice that it's a few minutes past midnight.

  "Thank you, Masterson."

  "Let's go back to my place and bring that shit in right."

  "I have to be back at the house tomorrow by no later than five,” I warn.

  "Whatever you want, baby. I just need to be inside you in the worst fucking way. I don't care how long you give me."

  I kiss him after that.

  Long, slow and deep the way he likes it.

  He picks up my other leg and is holding me up against the car with one hand while never breaking the kiss. With the other hand, he smoothly unlocks the door, and before I know what's happening he's walked around the car and slides me inside the passenger seat.

  Then he breaks the kiss.

  "Text the glamazon and tell her you've gone home."