Bittersweet Deceit

by Blakely Bennett

  “Only on my birth certificate.” He lowered his head and kissed my hand.

  I felt it way more than I wished to. The heat of his lips seared my skin and sent a throb between my thighs. “Why did you do that?”

  “I would do more, if you’d let me. Your long, sexy legs, clear, green eyes, and conservative demeanor make my hands vibrate with the need to strip away the artifice...”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I want to know everything about you. What do you do for work? What are your passions? Are you happy?”

  I held onto the dock railing with my free hand and cleared my throat. “That’s a lot all at once.”

  He stood up and we resumed our walk, “How about one at a time?”

  I pursed my lips, trying to keep from smiling. I found it hard to contain the fluttering inside me when I looked into his eyes. His powerful gaze drew me in. I felt him rapping on the fortress I had built around my heart from years of disappointment in the dating arena.

  He tucked my long, sandy-brown hair behind my right ear and said, “I want to see your face when you tell me.”

  I took a deep breath and plunged ahead into unchartered waters. “I own and manage a clothing boutique. I have now for five years or so.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  “I love it. Once the place was mine, I changed the name and upgraded the curb appeal with large front windows.”

  We continued to stroll when he asked, “So you remodeled the store front?”

  “Yes and reconfigured the floor plan.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  “Thank you.” I blushed. Get your shit together, woman. You are not one to lose it over a man. The wine must have gone straight to your head.

  He led me over to a bench and we sat down. “How did you know what to do to the store?”

  I adjusted my skirt and smoothed the fabric. Sitting down, he was a few inches taller than I. I looked up and said, “I studied business in college. Through high school and college I worked in clothing stores to help with expenses. The different shops helped me create the vision of what I thought would work best.

  “To answer your second question, I’m passionate about music. I love going to live concerts and Broadway shows and I’m always on the hunt for new songs. My taste in music is eclectic, as is my taste in friends. Other than working, my friends fill up most of my time. Your turn.”

  “You didn’t answer my last question. Are you happy?”

  His attention felt more like an indomitable gravitational pull than mere interest.

  “Lainie?” he whispered too close to my ear.

  “Let’s save that one for another time,” I said, looking at him through my mascara-laden eyelashes.

  “Are you saying you will see me again?”

  I bit my lower lip and said, “Are you always this forward?”

  “In business, definitely.”

  “And otherwise?” I asked.

  “When I meet a gorgeous woman who causes my heart to pound like you have, then yes.”

  He thinks I’m gorgeous? The man who might have walked straight off the pages of GQ? “Thank you. I’m flattered.” Trying to deflect the emotions he stirred in me, I asked, “So what do you do?”

  “I’m a CEO coach.”

  I turned my knees toward him and said, “What does that mean?”

  “I’m a paid mentor to CEOs, business owners, and senior executives. I help them achieve their goals in business, and in their personal lives.”

  “I never knew that even existed. Do you enjoy it?”

  “I love it. It’s exciting to help other people manifest their dreams.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know that job existed either,” Jacqs said, pulling me out of my recollection.

  “He has master’s degrees in both business and psychology.” I took a couple of bites of my omelet and followed it with a sip of coffee.

  “That must mean he travels a lot.”

  I nodded. “He does, and that’s how he was here today.”

  Her brows pulled together as she scrunched her nose.

  “He flew in yesterday, but his wife expects him home this afternoon.”

  “Oh, so he’s local. This seems so unlike you, girl.”

  I forced out a heavy sigh and said, “It’s something I swore I’d never do. I don’t have a good excuse other than he is simply every single fucking thing I’ve ever dreamt about.”

  “Other than being married with small children.”

  “Yes, other than that.” I nodded.

  “When did you know?”

  “Please don’t be mad at me, but he told me that very first night. He has been honest from the start. We were going to keep it at friendship level, but that flew out the window by the third time I saw him.”

  Jacqs wore a look of utter skepticism.

  “I get that he is lying to other people. That’s what kills me. I keep thinking I can stop it ... that I can end it. And I have tried. Remember the day when you came here, before we went to Red’s together to hang out with everyone.”

  “How can I forget? That’s the night Bond showed up drunk and outed Aidan and me to the whole gang.”

  “Yeah.” I paused remembering that night and then asked, “So you’re calling Red ‘Aidan’ now? Are you still the happy threesome?”

  “Don’t even try, girl. We aren’t talking about me until you finish your story.”

  “Okay, fine. So where was I?”

  “He told you what he does for a living and that he loves his job.” Jacqs cleared our plates so I had to project my voice to her in the kitchen.

  The bench we sat on faced the dock, and I could see the current make ripples on the water. “It’s great to love your job, isn’t it?” I asked. I felt the overwhelming desire to run my hand up his neck and play with his hair. His manly scent inspired impulses I’d never considered, especially not with a stranger.

  I felt his breath against my cheek and turned toward the warmth.

  “Lainie,” he said almost like a groan. His deep, gravelly voice caused my nipples to harden in pure lust.

  I tried to force it aside. I drew my head back slightly and asked, “Are you happy?”

  He winced. “In some ways I’m very happy. I’m fit—”

  “Clearly,” I said and clamped my mouth shut, wishing I could garner some self-control.

  “Thank you.” The sides of his mouth curved up, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. The soft lines in his forehead became more pronounced. His shift in energy placed a shroud over me, and I wanted to hug him to take away the pain.

  “Tell me,” I whispered.

  “And he did,” I said to Jacqs. “I’m not going to give you all the details because it’s not for me to tell. What I will say is that he is dead in love with his kids and will never leave them. His marriage is very troubled, and they’re working on finding a place of friendship. That doesn’t mean she would be okay with what we’re doing.

  “We sat on that bench and talked for hours. I think I fell in love with him that very night.”

  “Are you sure you’re not just hearing his side of things?” she asked.

  “Do you trust Red and Bond?”

  “With my life.” She sat back down at the table.

  “I feel the very same way about Mason. I shouldn’t share this but I’ve heard some of his wife’s phone messages and she is venomous.”

  “Look, Lainie, I don’t want to be judgmental, but there are always at least two sides of the story and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “That’s unavoidable at this point. I’m in too deep. It will end someday and I try my best not to dwell on that. I have never loved like this before and I fear I might never again.” I closed my eyes, pushing the thought away.

  “Isn’t this like me being stuck on Bond and hoping things will change?”

  “Well, Jacqs, they have changed, but that’s not the point. If nothing else, we are honest with each other.”


  “Will I get to meet him? I saw him, but I mean actually talk to him?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head. “To him it’s an even bigger deceit to his family to infiltrate my life, and he says it’s worse for me too. He thinks I shouldn’t have to miss him in the very places I go for friendship and support, and I can’t argue with his logic.”

  “Well, girl, I think you are now the one mired in drama.”

  “It’s never dramatic when we’re together; it’s waiting for the next time I get to see him that nearly kills me.”

  “I can imagine. Thank you for sharing with me.” She reached out and touched my hand. “I love you, girl.”

  “I love you too.”

  Both Jacqs and I turned our heads to the sound coming from the back of the condo.

  “That’s my phone,” I said. I scurried into my bedroom and over to the nightstand. I brought up the screen on my cell and saw Mason’s text.

  MM: Your professor needs to discuss your bad grade and how you will make it up. Are

  you ready for me?

  My body flushed in response, but our games still embarrassed me. Not when they were happening, never then. I enjoyed pleasing him, and had come to live for it. With Mason I had opened myself up to new sexual experiences I never imagined I would enjoy.

  I texted him back.

  Me: Not yet. I’ll text when she’s gone.

  MM: Extra spanks with the paddle the longer you make me wait. I need to ravish your body again.

  Me: Yes, Professor Mason. :P

  MM: You better give me that tongue when I get home.

  Home, how I wished.

  “Him?” Jacqs asked when I sat back down at the table.

  “Yeah. So how’s your ménage à trois working out?”

  Jacqs’s face reddened and she wriggled in her seat. “It’s wonderful, but I’m having a hard time really sinking into it. I’m expecting Bond to get bored at any moment and find someone more interesting. It’s only been a few weeks, but he still hasn’t dated anyone else. That must be some kind of record.”

  “I’d say! And Red?”

  She sighed slowly and smiled. “He’s amazing and I’ve never felt so loved, cherished, and cared for. As Bond keeps saying, we’re all taking it one day at a time.”

  “Well you sure do seem relaxed and content; it’s a very nice change.”

  “Thanks.” She paused and then I saw the wheels turning. “Have you heard from Stay?”

  Stayman, or Stay as we all called him, was part of our group of friends, which met regularly at Red’s house. Jacqs brought me into the fold via her alliance with Bond.

  “Yes, Stay called me last night. Did you put that into motion?” I said my lips pursed in displeasure.

  “Wipe that look off your face, Lainie. He had two tickets for Ed Sheeran, and you know you love him. I thought I was doing you a favor.”

  “Why, pray tell, does he have two tickets?” I folded my arms across my chest, feeling like I had been set up.

  “I can only assume he bought them a while ago for him and his ex. Don’t go if you don’t want to. I thought you might enjoy it.”

  “I already told him I would,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Then what the fuck, girl?”

  “You’re pushing us together, and it’s never going to happen.”

  She tapped my arm and said, “Never is a mighty long time and would that be such a bad thing?”

  “Let’s just drop it okay?”

  She appeared to be considering it and then said, “Sure, back to the good stuff. I would guess he is just about your height?”

  “Yeah, he’s six foot one like me, so the few times we’ve gone out, I’ve left my expensive heels at home.”

  “Do you go out a lot?”

  “Not at all anymore.” Then I thought about our game later and said, “He does love for me to wear them inside. That’s a first for me.”

  “I’m sure your long legs look very sexy. Before I shove off I must know, is Mason a good lover?”

  I blushed in mortification, like the young college student Mason wanted me to play.

  “Boy, oh boy, that good?”

  I just nodded.

  She threw her head back and laughed. “And his cock? Tell me, is it stellar?”

  “Jacqs!” I whined.

  “Give it up, girl. You know all about my guys. Fess up.”

  “He’s perfect for me,” I sighed. “You know I hate when their cock is too long and bangs up against my cervix.”

  “I like that—”

  “Yes, that has been well established.”

  She grinned and said, “And...”

  “I’d guess six to six and a half inches, and average thickness, but he gets harder than anyone I’ve ever been with. Oh, and the stamina...”

  Jacqs chuckled again and said, “On that note, I’m going to take off.” She rubbed her thighs and stood. “Aidan wants to take Adjustable Bend into the open ocean today, and I think the boys have something planned for me.”

  I stood up and faced her as she threw her backpack over her shoulder. “Now who’s blushing?” I asked.

  “I think I have some idea of what they might have in mind.” She twitched her eyebrows and made a funny face.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  After we hugged goodbye and I closed the door, I rested my back against it. After a moment, I took a deep breath, stood up, and went to the bedroom to text Mason. Another message waited for me.

  MM: Wear the short black skirt you know I like with the white blouse. You know the rest.

  Me: I need a few minutes to get ready.

  MM: She’s gone?

  Me: Yes.

  MM: On my way!

  My pulse raced as I quickly disrobed and donned the schoolgirl outfit Mason had bought for me. He didn’t care for the knee-high, white socks or the saddle shoes that usually went with the look. In his version, the naughty college student had stockings and garters with very high heels. I slipped into my favorite red, Manolo Blahnik five-inch heels that I only wear indoors, and shut the bedroom door to see myself in the full-length mirror. The short skirt barely covered my butt so the black straps of the garters could be seen. Without a bra, the thin, white blouse didn’t hide much. My rosy areolas could be seen through it. I left the first three buttons undone so Mason could see some cleavage. My hair and makeup definitely needed some attention.

  Dressing for the scenarios he created had an effect on me. Usually conservative, I was blossoming into a sexy, more confident version of myself.

  I wasn’t sure how much time I had to get ready, so I moved with haste. I flipped my thick hair over, which was still partially wet from the shower, blow-dried it, then teased it with a comb to give it volume. I used a black, coal liner around my eyes and a heavy layer of mascara. After putting on deep-red lipstick, I took in my reflection. Perfectly slutty, I thought.

  I hurried to the second bedroom and pulled the desk away from the wall, angling it so the office chair faced the door. The second chair in the room, I set on the opposite side of the desk facing in. Several blank sheets of paper sat in the middle of the desktop and I left them there. I tidied the penholder and lined up the printer so it sat flush with the edge. When I yanked open the bottom drawer, I found it empty.

  “Shit! Where did that damn paddle get off to?” I frantically looked around the room, checking near the blue, covered futon couch and the closet. Then I remember and laughed. I went back into the living room and opened the drawer of the end table. The heavy, shellacked, wood paddle had Mason’s college fraternity’s Greek letters along the handle.

  My eyes swept the area to find places that needed attention. I pushed the chairs flush with the dinner table and put the spices back in the cabinet. While I rinsed the sink, I heard a knock. I ran on tiptoe back into the second bedroom and shoved the paddle into the drawer of the desk. Back at the front door, I said, “One sec.” I tried to settle the excitement pounding in my chest b
y bouncing on my toes. Then I flipped the lock and opened the door.

  He scanned me from head to toe and whistled. “You are stunning.”

  I erupted into laughter over his outfit: the tweed coat with oval patches on the elbows and the loafers were a nice touch, as was the pipe with a man’s face carved in ivory in his hand, but the spectacles perched on the tip of his nose were what did it to me.

  “Is that any way to greet your professor, the one who is willing to help out with your dismal grade in my class on the failure of American politics in the twenty-first century?”

  “Well, no, um...” I tried to hold my breath so I wouldn’t giggle. I stood up to my full height, which made me taller than him in my five-inch pumps. I waved him through the door.

  Even in his silly costume, he looked overwhelmingly handsome.

  He turned to face me and I could almost feel his hands on me, as if his light-blue eyes held the power to penetrate the surface of my skin. Simultaneously I loved and hated that someone could have that kind of sway over me.

  “I’ll be in my office,” he said as he slipped off his shoes by the door. Over his shoulder, he said, “I expect you there in one minute. Do not keep me waiting.”

  “Yes, Professor Mason,” I said, using a soft, demure tone and getting into character.

  After ducking into the bathroom to check my appearance I knocked on the door to the second bedroom, which he had left partially ajar. I leaned my head in. “Excuse me, Professor, do you have a minute to discuss the grade I received on my paper?” I asked in a wispy voice trying to channel a mix of Betty Boop and Marilyn Monroe.

  He beckoned me in with one hand while looking down at the papers in front of him, the pipe hanging from his mouth.

  I suppressed a chuckle and pulled down on the hem of my skirt. My heels sunk into the thick, cream-colored carpet as I kept shifting my weight from one leg to the other.

  “Stop fidgeting,” he said, looking up over his glasses. “Sit.”

  Settling into the chair that faced him, I crossed my legs.

  “Keep your legs open,” he practically shouted.