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Too Curious Complete Series (Books 1-5) Box Set Romance Series: (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Series)

Page 13

by Brooke Kinsley


  Once again I felt hopelessly ignorant.

  “No. I’d not heard that one before but I’ll remember it.”

  “Ok, moving on!”

  He strode out, his leather shoes squeaking on the immaculately polished floor. At the end of the corridor a maid was cleaning a skirting board with laser precision, her eyes two inches from the wood. She looked up when she heard us approach and gasped when she saw Maxwell’s face. She then gathered her things and scarpered down the hall.

  “Not popular with the staff?” I asked.

  “Urgh… Long story,” he sighed.

  A few notes tinkled on the piano below and I poked my head over the top of the balcony.

  “Ah yeah, this is the Oppenheim Hall,” Maxwell explained. “It’s where the party was last night. You’d never guess such debauchery took place there last night. It almost looks like a peaceful museum now, doesn’t it?”

  It was then that I noticed where I was standing was the exact position where Ophelia was the night before, looking on as the party raged below her.

  “You look worried about something,” he said.

  “I’m just overwhelmed,” I answered. “It’s all a bit much.”

  He fiddled with a gold cufflink on his sleeve as he thought, tapping his toe lightly as a sign that he was anxious.

  “Yes, I suppose it’s all been a shock but you’ll get used to the lifestyle. It’s decadent but my God is it fun.”

  He smiled again but this time it was forced.

  “I don’t even understand what The Hades Society is, though.”

  “It’s whatever you want it to be,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Ok, well rather it’s just a fun club, a place where the people from the highest echelons of society mingle to rub shoulders and let their stresses be bygones.”

  He waved a hand as he spoke, a little act of flamboyance that exaggerated his status.

  “Is that really all it is? I’ve seen things on the internet, there are websites dedicated to exposing the evils of the society. Trevor says it’s all untrue but there’s no smoke without fire, right?”

  “If freedom of sexuality is evil, then that’s fine with me.”

  He turned on his heel.

  “Wait!”

  He spun back around, his hip sticking out to one side as he turned.

  “If it’s all just about sex and free love then what’s with the goat heads and the cloaks, the crazy music and the rituals?”

  “Have you never heard that curiosity killed the cat?” Maxwell said as he stifled a yawn.

  He then leaned over the banister again and looked down at the people below. There was an older couple seated at a corner table. I thought there was something so familiar about the man. Maxwell followed my gaze.

  “That’s Euphemus Rice, the senator.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, we have a lot of political figures here for the parties. Anyway, enough of all that boring stuff. I need a drink.”

  Chapter Six

  We were sat in one of the many lounges with cocktails in our hands. At the back of the room, two old men played chess, mumbling to themselves as they pushed their pieces across the board.

  “What is this?” I asked while staring at the blood red liquor.

  “It’s an Amalfi Dream, I think.”

  He took a sip and grimaced, his lips reeling back over his vivid pink gums. I took a sip myself and thought it was quite nice. Resting back in my seat and gazing at the splendor around me, I suddenly felt self-conscious. I looked up and saw Maxwell was staring at me.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  He glanced away, inspecting a fingernail innocently.

  “It’s just that… You look like her.”

  “Look like who?” I asked.

  He let out a long groan like a petulant teenager and slapped a hand to his forehead.

  “Do you literally know nothing whatsoever?”

  I felt a little hurt and frowned as I took a hefty gulp of my drink.

  “You look like Susana Beckons,” he said with wide, expectant eyes.

  I raised my eyebrows as I waited for more information.

  “You’re being serious…” he said as he leaned toward me, a bitter look in his eyes. “You’ve actually got no idea who she is. Remarkable.”

  “For Christ’s sake will you tell me what you’re talking about?”

  He stood up and straightened his blazer.

  “You’re an incomprehensible idiot,” he said.

  “Hey!”

  “And I can’t believe Trevor didn’t even tell you about her.”

  I slammed my drink down on the table in a temper. The old men looked up from their chess board for a second then resumed their mumbling.

  “You’re being a real dick, you know that?” I shouted. “I get brought here, get kept in the dark, get insulted by you and totally harassed by Ophelia and all anybody does is shuffle around this coffin of a house and explain nothing!”

  He flinched as though he’d been slapped.

  “I suppose it’s not your fault,” he exhaled. “Follow me.”

  Chapter Seven

  We were back in the library. Maxwell was pulling a pair of white, cotton gloves over his effeminate hands.

  “Are you putting on a show?” I asked with a hint of sarcasm.

  “These, you muggle, are to protect the delicate pages of the book I’m just about to show you.”

  He pulled a set of keys out from the top drawer of a nearby cabinet and set about trying to find the one he wanted. He muttered to himself as he inspected the fine writing on each key.

  “Ok, this one is for general ancestry, antiquary cuisine, great aunt Margaret…”

  I stepped away from him and looked around the room. It wasn’t too dissimilar in style to the small museum Trevor kept in his office. There were peculiar relics situated in glass cabinets, ancient things that looked as though they’d crumbled at the softest touch.

  “Found it!” Maxwell shouted with glee.

  Running full pelt across the room, he reached a cupboard and thrust the key inside, making an unusual grunting sound as the key penetrated the lock. The kid freaked me out but who wouldn’t grow up to be a weirdo if they were raised in this house?

  “Come over!” he called, waving wildly for me to join him. “I need your help.”

  Looking inside the cupboard, I saw his hands were around a large, leather bound book. It was as thick as it was long and smelled like mildew.

  “Grab the other end, but for heaven’s sake be careful!”

  Together, we yanked at the book until at last, we both managed to carry it to a table. It must have weighed fifty pounds and we were both sweating by the time we let it drop, a cloud of dust flying up from the pages as it fell. Maxwell wiped his brow with the back of his hand and sighed.

  “Ok. Susana Beckons, or in other words, you in a past life. Maybe…”

  “We’re talking about reincarnation now!”

  “Calm down, I’m only joking but I have to admit the resemblance is uncanny.”

  He placed his hands on the book’s cover. I leaned over to see the title written in a long, sprawling script that was barely readable.

  “This book has been in my family for generations. It details the history of The Hades Society, a Victorian era sex club that was founded by no other than my great-great grandmother.”

  “You’re shitting me!”

  He scowled then nodded his head slowly.

  “No. I’m not shitting you.”

  “Isn’t it weird that your family is, like, owners of this super crazy sex cult and it’s all normal to you?”

  He shrugged.

  “What even is normal?”

  He looked back to the book.

  “Aaaanyway… Susana. Let’s find her, shall we?”

  With great deliberation, he flipped open the front cover. The smell of mildew grew stronger, then stronger again as he flicked through
the first few pages. On the third page a photograph was revealed, a grainy, black and white image of a blonde woman dressed in black.

  “What the fuck?” I gasped and staggered backward.

  “It’s weird, isn’t it? You look just like her.”

  I looked so much like her it sent a cold shiver up my spine. My heart began to race as I looked at the way her platinum hair had a little tuft at the front just like I did. Her beauty spot on the right side of her top lip matched mine exactly and the eyes... There was no mistaken that they were mine.

  “I’m officially terrified now,” I said as I began walking away.

  “But it’s a blessing!” Maxwell shouted after me. “You are the chosen one.”

  He slammed the book shut and chased after me. Catching up with me halfway down the hall, he grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around.

  “You’re special, Tammy. That’s why Trevor noticed you right away. He’s right into this stuff, the occult, all the weirdness and the macabre. He must have thought he hit the jackpot when he saw you.”

  I was shaking, my hands trembling uncontrollably as I dug my nails into the palm of my hand.

  “Tammy!”

  A voice called out. Maxwell and I both turned to see Trevor striding up the hall with a worried expression on his face.

  “Where have you been?”

  He sped up to a jog and I could see his shoulders slump with relief as he reached us.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

  He kissed the top of my head.

  “Although I see you’ve been acquainted with the unique and fascinating Maxwell.”

  “I have,” I said. “And he told me all about his great-great-grandmother.”

  Trevor stiffened.

  “How interesting,” he said through gritted teeth as he noticed Maxwell’s white gloves.

  “I thought she already knew,” the young man moaned.

  Trevor furrowed his brows and made a strange humming noise as though he was biting his tongue.

  “I have someone to introduce you to,” he said, changing the subject. “Come with me.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Trevor, I’m having the weirdest day. This house is like something from the Twilight Zone.”

  He laughed so hard he snorted.

  “And Karen’s going to be wondering where I am. I’m pretty sure she hates me anyway so she’ll be raging mad when I turn up without an explanation. And Stephen! I didn’t realize I’d be gone this long and I just left him in my apartment. I hope he’s ok.”

  “All you ever do is worry,” Trevor chuckled. “Believe me, there’s nothing to fret about. This is a place for fun and relaxation. We can worry about Karen and her amateur dramatics later and your brother is fine. I made sure he is.”

  “Hmmm…”

  “You don’t look convinced.”

  “I’m not.”

  Leading me upstairs, I recognized the long passageways and the endless turns and twists of the house. We were approaching our bedroom.

  “Ophelia,” I said.

  “What about her?”

  “She was angry again.”

  “She’s always angry.”

  I stopped walking and tugged at his shirt sleeve.

  “Please. Will you tell me why she hates me so much? I haven’t meant to upset her or anything but-“

  “She’s just jealous of you. Please, forget about her. She’s totally neurotic, hates any woman who so much as speaks to me. If I were you I’d take it as a compliment.”

  “A compliment?Really?”

  “Sure! I mean if you were buck ugly she wouldn’t bother with you. She just thinks your competition. She was used to growing up as the lady of the house, the little princess who always got her way and now she’s growing up. It’s nothing more than a phase. She’ll forget about you and start hating someone else tomorrow.”

  “She’s stalking me, Trevor. She’s been sending me threats at work. There have been other phone calls and-“

  “Stalking you? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  He waved a hand dismissively and continued walking.

  “Stalking. Ha!”

  “No, please! You have to listen to me. She’s crazy,” I insisted.

  “Tell me about it. Once when I was ten I got a hamster for Christmas, a little furry dumpling of a thing that I used to play with all the time. I made the mistake of playing with it more than Ophelia and I woke up one day and he had vanished. Poof! Gone.”

  He wiggled his fingers in the air as though recounting the tale of a marvelous magic trick.

  “She killed your hamster?”

  “I assume she did.”

  “That’s fucking psychotic, Trevor. That’s not normal.”

  “What even is normal?” he repeated Maxwell’s words.

  I gave him a wary look. Things were getting stranger by the minute. As we approached our bedroom, I was aware of music playing, the crackling sound of a record player. It dawned on me that a place of such luxury had little in the way of technology. People listened to music on old, scratchy vinyl records that felt as though they were ripping into action with a painful caterwaul. Meanwhile, there were no televisions in the house and everyone skulked around the towering walls in tweed suits and vintage cocktail dresses. I longed for some reality television, a pizza, and some social media.

  “Who’s playing that music?” I asked.

  “Our guest,” Trevor answered with a smile.

  “We have a guest?”

  He pushed open the door and the smell of perfume drifted out. It was mysteriously mature and sophisticated, the smell of old Hollywood and dive bars. I saw her on the bed, on my side of the bed. She had a cigarette perched between her bony fingers with her wedding ring glistening in the afternoon sun. She blew out a plume of smoke, its grayness mixing with the paleness of her hair.

  “Hello, darling,” she purred.

  “Hello,” my voice croaked out of me shy and weak.

  Her dress was made of glittering, gold sequins. I felt as though if I got too close it would burn or blind me. I looked away embarrassed and stared at the floor, whispering through a clenched jaw.

  “Trevor, what is she doing here?”

  He leaned into my ear so I could feel his hot, moist breath on my skin.

  “She’s here to teach you a lesson.”

  I looked back at her. Her eyes were so dark they were almost black like onyx with a pair of thick, false eyelashes framing them. Her eyebrows were sculpted to the heavens, arched and severe while her lips were painted burgundy red with a perfect, angular cupid’s bow. She stubbed out her cigarette and stood up, smoothing down the front of her dress with elegant hands.

  “I saw you at the party last night,” she said as she sauntered over to me.

  She walked more like a cat than a human with one high heeled foot carefully walking in front of the other.

  “You put on quite a show.”

  As she drew closer I could see the deep lines in her face and the scars around her temple from where the sutures had glued together her facelift. Her nose was like a doll’s, dainty and tiny and chiseled to perfection by the most talented of surgeons. Up close, I could the thick layer of makeup powdered on her cheeks, and the way the color of her foundation jarred with the natural color of her neck. But despite all of this, she was beautiful, carrying herself with a sense of confidence I could only dream to own. She commanded the space around her, made you feel as though you were in the presence of a queen. Part of me wanted to do anything she said, the other wanted to feel the softness of her arms as they wrapped around me.

  “You’re a quiet little thing, aren’t you? I would never have imagined it from watching you last night.”

  “I’m just… surprised is all. I never realized we were going to have a guest.”

  “Don’t worry, I surprise everyone.”

  She raised one single eyebrow and it made her look quite mad.

  “Tammy, this is Delores. She thin
ks you’re the most beautiful girl she’s ever seen. She couldn’t quite believe her eyes when you arrived last night,” Trevor said.

  “You look just like Susana!” she exclaimed.

  She slapped her cold, wrinkled hands to my cheeks. Leaning in close, she nuzzled into my neck.

  “Tell me, Tammy. Have you ever been with a woman?”

  Chapter Nine

  I gulped at the thought and shook my head.

  “Have you ever wanted to?” she asked.

  I nodded. She smiled and took a step back, looking me up and down with lustful eyes.

  “She’s quite innocent,” Trevor explained. “But in the naughtiest of ways.”

  “Very nice.”

  Delores stroked my arms. Her touch was gentle and loving, so different to that of a man’s.

  “You’re gorgeous,” she smiled. “I hope you don’t mind being with a mature woman.”

  I shook my head.

  “I think you’re beautiful. Are you a movie star?”

  She shrieked with laughter and looked to Trevor with twinkling eyes.

  “She’s adorable!”

  I’d always wanted to touch a woman, always wanted to know how it felt to be caressed by someone with curves. Growing up, I had always liked girls as well as guys but while living in a small town, the option simply wasn’t there. I was too afraid to confess that I wanted to feel the lips of another girl on me so I kept my desires a secret.

  “Tammy, do you think it would be ok if I kiss you? It would make me so happy.”

  I felt my mouth go dry and my heart begin to race. My palms became damp and I clenched my hands into fists, feeling the tightness of my fingers as I pressed them together.

  “I’d like that,” I said. “I’ve never kissed a girl before.”

  She leaned in slowly, so slowly that I was worried she wasn’t moving at all. Her fake breasts pushed into me, they were firm and round, perfect spheres of silicone with hard nipples that prodded through her dress. As her lips met mine, I instinctively reached up and cupped them. Her mouth was silky to the touch and as she kissed me, I felt an instant sensation of wetness grow between my legs. My body responded to her so quickly I barely had time to think. I grabbed at her to feel the curve of her waist. Despite her age, she had a perfect hourglass figure I could wrap my arms around.

 

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