The Mistress - an Erotic Noir Novel

by J. E. Keep

  She stared at him with her dark eyes, her head only dropping a little as the black lashes half hid the watery orbs. She felt a flush run through her body, and suddenly she could look at his handsome face no more, staring instead to her hand atop the armrest.

  “You saw his little house, right?” she whispered, just barely audible, even as close as he was.

  With a slow nod of his head he said, “Yeah, the guest house out back. What about it?” And his hard, rough hand reached out, resting atop hers and rubbing the backs of her knuckles so kindly.

  “I was there,” she murmured, and her face was so hot she could barely contain it. Removing her hat, she placed it to the table at her side. “Is that helpful?” She almost sounded bitter, being forced to confess to something so shameful.

  Squeezing her hand he asked her gently, “Was he with you then at the time of the murder?”

  “Yes,” she hissed resentfully.

  Rubbing her hand he leaned in a little closer, “Thank you, Eva. It’s brave to admit that. I knew you were at the guest house that night, and as much as I believed you—wanted to believe you—I have to be sure.” He paused then added, “I don’t think Mr. Sinclair did it. Your confession helps convince me I was right.”

  “He...” she sniffled back the threatening tears as her gaze fell back to the detective, “Turing is a bad person and now they’re talking about promoting him. If... You asked me if Sinclair had any enemies, and if Mrs. Sinclair was going to expose his sick behaviour...”

  Nodding his head slowly he said, “Yeah, that would make sense,” though he seemed hesitant, as if someone else were foremost in his mind, his gaze sliding away as he drifted into thought.

  “Is Sinclair okay? I... he must feel so guilty,” she whimpered. “To... because of me, I mean. I know he’d never want...” she shook her head. “If he had been with her... if I hadn’t...” she was barely making sense as she choked out the words.

  She looked so upset, it seemed to finally crack his calm exterior and he put his strong arms around her, pulling her against his chest as he gave her a warm embrace. “It’s okay, Eva,” he said softly, “it’s not your fault. There was more going on then you, or maybe even he knew.”

  Her own arms went around him so warmly, and even in the strange position that the chair forced them in, she managed to press her large, covered breasts to his chest. Her heart thudded loudly, and she was so frail against the stronger man.

  It had been an exhausting two days, and all she wanted was to be able to relax, to be at peace with herself, but she couldn’t stop thinking back. If she hadn’t come, Mrs. Sinclair could have still been alive. If she hadn’t gone to Turing’s... She shivered as the sensations returned to her body and she shifted away from Max.

  “Turing’s doing something horrid,” she said, louder than she expected.

  In that position he seemed almost poised to kiss her, but then her words broke the spell of the moment and he pulled away almost imperceptibly, “I’ll put a stop to it somehow, whether he is or isn’t the man we’re after for the murder, Eva. I won’t let this evidence rest, even if I can’t use it as it is.”

  Pulling back a bit he looked her in the eyes, his own emerald gaze steady as his strong hands rubbed her spine.

  Her eyes kept dropping to his lips, but she forced them to focus on his shoulders, just at the bend that met his neck, and her breathing quickened.

  She’d never dealt with stress well; not really. Outwardly she was always capable and calm, but inside, she always felt this intense sensation, a need that started low in her body and then traveled through her limbs.

  Allan had gotten her through her exams, though she’d never told him that.

  Anxiety just gave her a craving for release, and she could feel it building through her form as she tried to remain in control. “I’m not a flapper... I’m not of loose morals,” she murmured, though it was more to convince herself than him. “I never thought of Turing...” Her lip trembled, “I thought he was harmless!”

  The way he gazed at her, it was more than just concern. It took her a while to realize it, but once she had she saw that flicker in his gaze so clearly. The older detective, Max Eisen, wanted her. It was something soft but masculine, a desire to do more than just protect her. And even the ring on his hand that rubbed down her arm didn’t keep him from feeling it for her.

  “You’re not a bad woman, Eva,” he said in his low, strong tone. “All of this isn’t your fault, and it’ll end with you in the clear, I’m sure of it.”

  It wasn’t just the anxiety. Not this time. It was something else.

  She’d run to Martin, wanting to feel safe and protected, yet he’d made her feel anything but. He made her feel exposed raw. He’d opened her wounds, and Max was slowly easing them shut. “I didn’t want to tell... I didn’t want to hurt his reputation. Doctor Sinclair...” her lip trembled, “He’s such a good man.”

  At her words he retracted his hand until their fingertips were barely touching. As much as he might’ve been tempted to violate his own vows over his feelings for her, it seemed, he respected her feelings for another. “Don’t you worry. Sylvia—Mrs. Sinclair” he corrected, “was having an affair of her own, Eva. It’s not as clear-cut as it seems.”

  “Ew,” she murmured, her gloved hand going to her forehead, “Did he know?”

  Shaking his head he said, “I don’t think so. He didn’t indicate as such,” and with a sigh he said, “I only found the evidence just now. I haven’t even tracked down who it could be,” he confessed and slowly retracted his hands from her entirely.

  She nodded, relaxing back in the chair, though her eyes still wouldn’t stop following the masculine lines of his jaw and neck. Even after her encounter with Turing, she couldn’t stop the curious hum beneath her skin.

  “Well that’s good,” she sighed, though even she could tell it sounded off, and a little more breathless than expected.

  With a deep intake of breath he nodded to her, “I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into this whole thing, Eva. I don’t want to ask anything of you, but... do you think you can answer a question for me still?” And he looked on her with worry, not wanting to trouble her further.

  Her heart beat a bit faster, the stress and desire combining into something new as she nodded, almost trancelike as her gaze trailed along his strong jaw, landing upon his lips.

  Licking along those pronounced lips of his he asked, “Do you know a Terry by any chance? It’s the name on the love letters that I just found, but I’m not sure who it refers to yet.”

  Her brows furrowed, trying to think over the people she knew before her mouth pursed, “Eww... Terrence Russell?” The sound of disgust she made was quite unlady like. Sharing one partner with the deceased woman was bad enough but... two?

  Thinking it over a while he nodded to her. “That adds up,” he slowly smiled to her then seemed to think it inappropriate. “It might be Turing, it might not, Eva. Regardless, I’ll see justice is done, and that you need not worry again,” and he reached his hand out to hers again, lighter, more tentative this time.

  Her fingers wrapped between his, her breathing a bit harder. “With any luck, Russell will kill Turing,” she muttered bitterly as her body moved closer to Max’s, shifting herself forward in the seat.

  With a bit of surprise on his face at her harsh words, he looked a bit taken aback, though it melted away quickly as she moved in towards him and his hand held hers tighter by reflex. She could see it again, that look of longing in him. She was so beautiful, so young and graceful, he wanted her, but he was too good to act in a situation like this.

  She wanted to feel cleansed. To wash the foul taste out of her mouth and disappear, if only for a little while. To succumb to nothingness. Her eyes were lidded as she sucked in her lower lip, and she felt that anger within her stomach bubble over, filling her with hot, prickling need. Despite Turing’s earlier assault on her form, it didn’t stop her craving for warm, familiar protection, and her
hand gripped Max’s tighter.

  “I don’t know what Turing would do if he found out I had that letter,” she whispered.

  Speaking in a huskier tone of voice he asked, “Do you have some place you can stay away from campus until this blows over? Family perhaps? It might be best if you got away somewhere safe until it was all said and done.”

  She made a face of disgust, “And what would I tell my parents? That my professor’s wife got murdered and I’m now afraid for my life?” she scoffed. Her face moved closer, “The only friend I could tell blames me, and I’d rather not have the entire campus gossiping if I had someone protect me at my own place.”

  Furrowing his brow he seemed to think about it a while, “I could put you up in a hotel for a bit if it’s that much of an issue. You shouldn’t be alone at home if you’re so worried about him doing something, after all,” and his hand squeezed hers tenderly.

  “I just... How did I get involved in all of this? They’re professors, educated men! They’re not murderers and...” she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. “I don’t want to be alone right now,” she whimpered softly.

  Pulling her arm towards him he said “C’mon. I’ll make sure you’re safe,” he beckoned, looking intensely like he wanted to kiss her but resisting the urge.

  She couldn’t pull her gaze from his mouth, and she felt her heartbeat quicken.

  Truthfully it hadn’t been a half hour before that she’d resolved to invite Allan over to spend the night, but now she was having second thoughts. The young man was good for a lot of things, but concern and comfort weren’t among them. He made her feel safe but only because of his brute strength and endearment towards her.

  With the detective, there was something more. He was trained.

  “I don’t want to be here anymore,” she agreed.

  Pulling her with him the two stood up, their bodies pressed together as he held her hand. “C’mon, my car is out front,” he said and he guided her to the door gently as he stuffed some letters into his large, trench coat pockets.

  She was so near to his bulky frame, never once letting go of his hand and feeling that all too familiar hardness around his ring finger. Something about it excited her—had always excited her—and the stress of the last day had done nothing to diminish her naturally high desire and curiosity for men.

  Escorting her to his car, he helped her in with a pure gentlemanly style. It wasn’t long before he had driven them quietly to the nearest hotel. It was an expensive one, for a cop, but he guided her in and checked the room out before leading her up to the place. “Nobody gets up here without having rented a room, it’ll be safe,” he said quietly to her as he opened the door.

  Her long silence finally broken, she managed a ‘thank you,’ to him before moving in. She hadn’t brought anything with her but for her purse, and she removed her coat gingerly. “Can you stay a bit? We could order room service. You mustn’t have had dinner yet, right?”

  Following after her, he shut the door and it was only a moment after hearing it click that he was behind her, nearly atop her. “I haven’t eaten hardly all day,” he said, and the hunger in his eyes as he gazed down at her, his hand raised to stroke along her jawline, wasn’t for food at all.

  She stiffened, but the reaction was fleeting as her gloved hand rose to his bicep, her heartbeat quickened beneath her chest. “I have to use the ladies,” she murmured, but she couldn’t suppress the small smile that was creeping to her lips.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed then he nodded to her and stepped aside, making room for her to pass. He was holding his breath, she could tell.

  She laid the coat across the desk chair and was gone for only a few minutes before she returned, her face refreshed with a dab of rouge, and her hat removed, the waves of her hair lovingly framing her face. He could see her simple outfit, the blouse and the skirt still so fitted as they showed off her feminine curves. She had kicked off her shoes, and he could see the outline of the seam of her stockings along the upper side of her toes.

  “Did you order anything?” she asked curiously as she closed the distance between them.

  He was sat against the edge of the hardwood dresser, his hat left in the manor it seemed and his own trench coat off so that he was in just his charcoal suit. He looked at her, a bit transfixed, but shook his head, “Ah, no, no,” he acted as if coming out of a daze, “I didn’t think to,” he admitted and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “I see,” she smiled, her face a bit softer and her posture more under her control. She took in a deep breath as she removed her gloves, folding them and placing them on top of his coat. “Will you be missed?”

  Looking her over, the tall thirty-something man was quite smitten, though with her acting more in control of herself something had changed. She couldn’t quite place what though.

  With a shake of his head he said, “They know I’m out looking into the case, so I’ve got a bit of time,” he stated, and whatever it was it wasn’t his desire for her, she could detect that on his voice still.

  She couldn’t guess what had changed, but she stayed near him regardless, “But not enough to disappear for a night?”

  Her words seemed to break down some final barrier in him and he put his hands on her shoulders and brought his lips down, kissing her on the mouth abruptly and holding that position for a moment.

  She gasped into his mouth, but the way her shoulders relaxed, and her stomach flipped was just so delicious. She wasn’t a broken woman, and one negative experience couldn’t override all the good, pleasurable sensations that she had been seeking out since she had been in high school. Her hand squeezed his bicep as her body melded against his, so much shorter than he as her head tilted up.

  Max kept their mouths locked long until finally he broke the moist swirl of their tongues and looked at her with wide, surprised eyes, as if she had made that startling move and not him. “I’m sorry Eva, I shouldn’t have presumed—” he said.

  Her eyes fluttered opened, her entire body slow to respond as the blood rushed from her head and into more carnal places. She could feel her skin beg for his touch as her dark gaze met his, “Presume?” she whispered breathlessly.

  Squeezing her shoulders he licked his lips and stood a little straighter, “What you meant about the night, I...” he trailed off as he gazed down at the curly haired beauty, and as if hypnotized he moved down, kissing her lips again, this time slower, more purposeful as he felt his tongue out against her own lips, tasting her so completely.

  Her tongue responded in time, moistly probing against his in soft, careful whirls. She felt so delicate in his arms, and even as she returned his warm affection, she couldn’t stop the shiver she felt in her body, the need to have someone hold her close.

  Responding as if to that mental summons, his arms went around her slowly, strongly pulling her against him as he clung to her with tender desire, and an innate yearning to protect her. The kiss went on forever it seemed, until he was subtly pushing her towards the bed, their two bodies intertwined as he rubbed her back.

  Even as her body shook, she easily took those required steps to let herself down upon the bed in a graceful manner, her elbows resting behind her back. Her flesh felt so hot, and that desire she felt pulsed betwixt her thick thighs. She would not let one man ruin this for her.

  She would not let one man ruin other men. She reminded herself of this as her fingers reached for his suit buttons, pressing them through the holes so easily.

  There were so many clothes to get through, but her nimble fingers undid the buttons swiftly and he undid and pulled off his tie before moving down around her, kissing her lips still as the sounds of their lips smacking filled the posh room. A brush of her knee at his groin and she felt the hardness there for her as the married man climbed over her with such a desperate desire to experience her.

  She wanted to prove to herself that nothing had changed, and she grew bolder and bolder the more flesh that she revealed. Her
breathing was hot against his mouth as her moans grew louder, her fingers working the hem of her skirt up, her stocking clad feet begging his body between her legs.

  “I don’t want to be alone,” she whispered into his mouth, and she wasn’t even sure the words were audible with how she silenced them along his lips.

  His shirt and blazer were shrugged off his shoulders and arms, and his hard torso was exposed. He had pale blonde hair across his chest, and though he wasn’t as buff or strong as Allan, he looked tougher, more rugged and masculine.

  Sinking between her thighs she got off his belt and his pants dropped with his underwear. He was all but nude as his thick, heavy cock was exposed, but he hadn’t time to undress her fully. All he’d managed was to undo her blouse, leaving it open, her bra covered breasts out, and to reach up in under her skirt to hook her panties to the side. She could hear the groaned utterance of her name come from his chest as he sought to reassure her with his body, and that male organ so thick and needy. Throbbing for her in its exquisitely masculine shape, bulged at the crown.

  Despite it all, she was grateful for the barrier of her clothes, and she begged him in closer, her arms hooking around his in a manner than hindered his motions to bare her chest to him. Her mouth moved to his jaw, tracing down his neck, following the same path that her eyes had taken so many times before. She flicked his skin with her adept tongue, and even as she wondered if her actions were wise, she couldn’t help but whisper how much she needed him, her lips brushing against his flesh with each word.

  The coarseness of his stubble along that broad, masculine jaw didn’t deter her and he only grew more excited. Laying down over top of her, he nudged the sizable tip of his cock against her slit, kissing her neck as he gradually pressed himself against and finally into her sex. He was nearly nude, his pants barely hanging off the hard, shapely swell of his ass as he gave a push and imbedded most of his length inside her with a heavy groan of satisfaction.

  Her breathing quickened and a moan of anticipation turned into a loud purr of delight. That hot, familiar feeling pressing between her thighs, gliding into her wetted slit was what she needed. It was exactly what she needed.