The Word of a Liar (14 page)

He sucked each of his wet fingers simultaneously and then, for added affect, closed his eyes. 

“You taste so fine, Ellen.”

His words were a groan of passion. Beneath his lashes, he watched her arms go limp and her mouth part. Slowly, his hand once again traveled down her body, his fingers finding that spot within her which promised the most joy. Ellen’s hips arched. Her desire wet his hand with hot liquid heat. His body ached to suckle her, nibble on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, lick smooth, pink flesh, but he held back. Instead, he grazed her nipples with his teeth, kissed her neck, and then blew softly into her ear. Her body tensed. He needed to delay her gratification. Withdrawing his fingers, he cautiously brought them to her mouth.

With great delicacy, Mason touched her lips. Ellen’s eyes didn’t flinch. Her mouth closed around his finger, sucking with a gentle, tantalizing motion. His small success caused the ache in his belly to twist into an enormous knot, intensifying his need.   Positioning himself between Ellen’s legs, he rolled the head of his erection over Ellen’s sweet spot and then dove into her snug warmth, pausing to enjoy her tethered body. Helpless to his desire, he leaned forward and kissed her. 

Weak with sentiment, he whispered, “I want you to be mine.”

He lifted his torso, gripped her buttocks and thrust deeper, trying to shake the unwelcome sensation.

She moaned, body arching to accommodate. Perspiration trickled down his back. Thunder shook loose a hard rain. The curtains lifted. Mason drove deeper… harder… faster….Lost in self-gratification, he stopped when lightening stabbed the dark bedroom, lighting up Ellen’s troubled face.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

He leaned over, resting his hands between her shoulders.

“Untie me.”

He kissed her swollen lips.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” he lied. He knew.  She made him insane—made him loose control. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Untie me!”

Her indignant eyes suspended his lustful actions. Somewhere he’d lost his desire to fight. He got up and untied her. Retrieving his jeans, he looked at Ellen. Standing by the window, curtains flapping around her naked body, she closed the window and then faced him.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I thought you wanted me to go.”

“Why would you think that?”

She smiled.

“Oh, contraire, my passionate Mr. Hackett. It’s my turn to be in control.”

She walked toward him. Picking up a piece of the torn nightgown, she wrapped it around his neck like a leash. Her eyebrows arched. “Lie down.”

Mason’s white teeth showed between those sensuous lips Ellen yearned to kiss. He dropped his jeans. She led him back over to the bed and then pushed him down. Ellen crawled up, kneeling between his long muscled legs and stripped the cloth from his neck.  She pointed to his aroused manhood. “If I were to tie this around
THAT
, would it hurt?”

Mason swallowed. “I suppose it would depend on how tight you tied it.”

Ellen bit her bottom lip. “Hmmm, I think we’ll wait on that. I have something else in mind.”

She tossed the rag to the floor.

“You’re not going to tie me up?”

“Only if it becomes necessary.” Ellen’s fingers ran up his erection. “Does it really turn you on for me to taste myself?”

He nodded affirmatively.

“But it’s nasty.” She grimaced. “Slutty.”

Mason grinned. “That’s what makes it so hot.”

“I see.” 

She bent over his erection, watching it jerk with anticipation every time her fingers caressed it. She closed her mouth over him; the tangy taste caused a stir of fear, repulsion, and eroticism. He liked slutty. Well, maybe she could do that for him, but it was so different from anything she was used to. She combed the black hair surrounding his erection while swirling her tongue around the hard purple tip. Then she pulled him deeper into her mouth and sucked.

Mason grasped her hair, orchestrating her movement. Pulling away, he rolled the head of his erection over her swollen lips. His eyes, the liquid blue of melted sapphire, made Ellen tremble with desire. Her mouth embraced him again, stroking more vigorously and taking him to the back of her throat.  She continued to suckle with long passionate strokes. Mason’s groans spun around the room. Stopping, she straddled his thighs and then bent over to kiss his mouth.

Mason hugged her. Their tongues waltzed in the heated sensuality of their slick mouths until Ellen changed the tempo by making small bites on his lower lip. His breathing quickened; her need worsened. Straightening, she positioned herself over his pelvis. Guiding his erection into her throbbing body, she leaned back on her hands and pounded against him. The core of her sex throbbed with a painful anticipation. She slowed the pace, raising her hips to withdraw, but Mason gripped her waist.

“No touching unless I say so, remember?” she admonished.

Mason dropped his hands to the mattress. Ellen licked her top lip, relishing her power. “Put your hands up on the head board where I can see them.”

Mason obeyed. She smoothed her hands over his chest, taking time to pinch his tiny male nipples.  She sat all the way down on him.

“I want you now, understand?”

She ground down on his pelvis, his fullness titillating every nerve ending. His demonic eyes flickered, reminding Ellen of a wild animal. Bending his knees, he thrust his hips upward. The fullness nearly undid her.

“Deeper!” she demanded.

Mason complied. Their bodies slapped together in a heady rhythm. Ellen cried out as each movement overwhelmed her strained senses. In some far off place, Mason called her name. The terrifying heat of their union struck Ellen deep like the lightening catapulting its way into the bedroom. She twisted and ground until Mason climaxed, dousing the fire inside her and melting her into small droplets of flame that pummeled to the ground like drenching rain.

She rolled off him and then wrapped her arms around his chest. Spent and unmoving, they breathed heavily as the peaceful aftermath settled over them. Eyes closed, Mason focused on the darkness. Ellen’s love making had awakened something he couldn’t identify, and it frightened him as nothing else in his life ever had. Yet, she made him feel safe and unafraid. He realized something had changed, and he was not who he had been only a few days ago.

Ellen got up and sat at the edge of the bed, admiring Mason.
Such a beautiful man
, she thought. She wondered why she had been so antagonistic.  She touched Mason’s temple with the tips of her fingers, stroking his silky hair. Eyes closed, he smiled.

Ellen rose.

Mason’s hand clasped her wrist. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

He dropped his hand.

Returning with a warm washcloth, she heard the deep breathing of Mason’s sleep. Sitting next to him, she wiped the cloth over his fingers. His dark long eyelashes fluttered open, tranquil eyes touched her.

“You cleaning me up?” he muttered sleepily.

“Yes.” She smiled.

“Don’t forget Stiffy.”

“Stiffy?” Ellen realized he was referring to his genitalia.
Men!
  “Especially not Stiffy.”

She covered him with the warm cloth and rubbed his pelvis.

Mason reached down. “Don’t wake him up.”

He grinned. “I’ve got to get some sleep before he comes out to play again.”

Ellen giggled. Dropping down beside him, she pulled up the covers and then kissed him softly on the forehead.

“Mason,” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Promise you’ll wake me up when you leave.”

“I promise. But I’m so tired, I might never get out of this bed.”

He snuggled beside her, kissing the top of her breasts. Mason’s head resting in her cleavage, she played with his raven hair.  The thunder had retreated, but rain still tapped at the window. Pieces of gray light seeped between the threads of the red silk curtains.

“Mason,” she whispered, but he did not respond. He had fallen asleep.

She thought of JD coming in a few days, and she smiled slightly.
Mason’s right
, she thought. Theirs would not be a long term relationship. It was ridiculous to expect that he love her as well as her son. There were times when she had a hard time loving JD.

Suddenly Ellen wanted to apologize and admit that what they shared wasn’t going to have a “happily ever after” ending, but she couldn’t. She would enjoy their time together, no matter how brief. At least she felt alive again.

“The storm is over,” she spoke to the slumbering darkness. Kissing the top of his head, tears trickled down on her pillow. “When you go, Mason, I’m going to miss you.”

CHAPTER fourteen

Mason groaned, rolling onto his back.

“What time is it?” he mumbled, forcing his eyes open.

Ellen sat at the edge of the bed. Dressed in a tan colored skirt, black blouse, and blazer, she looked very professional.

“It’s eight-thirty, and I’ve got to be to school by nine. I’ve got a meeting with the superintendent and some of the school board members. Do you think I look okay?”

“You look different.” He cocked his head to one side.

“How so?” Ellen asked, smoothing back a stray piece of hair.

Mason grinned. “You look like a sexy librarian who needs to get laid. Don’t go to school. Stay with me and we can play the librarian meets biker game.”

“Sounds like fun, but I’m afraid I can’t. I do have a mortgage to pay. I’ll be home around three.”

Ellen rubbed the top of his shoulder.

“Will you be around, or are you planning on showing up in the wee hours of the morning again?”

“I’m on call at the paper mill today, so I might not be here when you get home.”

Ellen’s eyebrows arched. “So, you work at the paper mill?”

“Yeah, why?”

Ellen shook her head. “No reason, but when I was getting dressed, I thought how odd it was that we knew so little about each other.  For instance, me not knowing what you did for a living. Yet we shared so intimate an evening.”

Mason patted her hand. “We have plenty of time to discover the boring details of each other’s lives.”

“Do we?” Ellen looked down and then lifted her head and smiled. “Well, if you don’t get called into work, I’ll cook dinner for us. What’s your favorite?”

“You.”

“I’m afraid you can’t eat me.” She frowned.

“Oh, but I’d like to, darlin’.”

The idea of his tongue on forbidden territory intensified Mason’s persistent ache.

“I’ve got to go.  I’m too nervous for joking around. My cell and the school number are on the dining room table. Call me.”

She stood and moved to the door. “Make yourself at home. Maybe I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t I even get a good-bye kiss?” He pretended to pout.

“It’ll smear my lip stick. But if you’re here when I get home, I’ll give you something better, I promise.”

She blew a kiss and then disappeared, the sound of her heels clicking down the hall.

Mason looked around. Sunlight brightened the room though closed curtains. The Victorian boudoir was even more feminine in the daylight. The sound of the neighbors leaving for work and the tinkling of wind chimes filtered through the opened window. Mason sunk back into the pillows where Ellen’s scent still lingered, filling him with an incredible serenity. He pulled up the covers and fell back to sleep.

***

No phone call and no motorcycle or truck in her driveway, Ellen’s heart sank.  Drained from her day at school, she wanted Mason. Butterflies had besieged her stomach all day, and she hadn’t stopped thinking about him for a second. At least her meeting with the superintendent had gone well. And Ron Richards, the man whose cottage she had been visiting the night her car broke down, had been in his classroom, so she was able to tell him about her biker rally adventure. A true gentleman, Ron was horrified by her experience and felt guilty for not having been able to help her. Ellen thought it best not to mention she’d become involved with her dangerously, divine redeemer. 

Ellen got out of the car and then reached for the bag of groceries. She had been looking forward to cooking for the two of them.

“Oh well,” she sighed, shoving the car door closed with her elbow. 

She set the groceries on the porch while she unlocked the front door. An envelope taped to the glass caught her eye. She opened it. Written in sharply pointed cursive, the note read:

Ellen,

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both...
 

“Robert Frost.”

She smiled.
But who put it here? Mason?
Unlocking the door, she stepped into the house and took in a startled breath. Two paths made entirely of red rose petals spread out before her. One ran up the staircase and another led down the hallway to the kitchen. Their sweet, spicy smell permeated the house.

“Mason, are you here?” she called out, but no one replied. She followed the path to the kitchen.

By the basement door, a beautifully wrapped box with a card attached waited.  Picking it up, she opened the door. Votive candles lined the length of the old wooden staircase. Someone had blackened the windows with pieces of cardboard. She flicked on the light, but it didn’t come on. Checking the fixture, she saw the bulb was missing. Her heart beat faster. Goose bumps prickled her arms.

“Mason, are you down there?”

Silence.

Ellen, not fond of basements, especially old ones like in this house, closed the door, went to the kitchen table and then opened the card.

To my mistress,

It has been said that only when darkness overtakes our daytime defenses do our senses awaken. This road leads to those unexplored carnal fantasies. And I, your willing subject, am ready to escort you down into this sinister world, where the two of us can discover the pleasures of our pain. 

Mason

Hands trembling, Ellen unwrapped the package. She lifted the top gingerly, peeling back white tissue paper. Gasping, she beheld a shiny, black leather teddy. Picking up the garment, she giggled like a shocked school girl. Barely a teddy, it was some sort of harness with leather straps crisscrossing into a unique pattern that exposed breasts and buttocks. Next, she pulled out a black leather choker with an attached leash.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “I wonder who’s supposed to wear this?”

She also found a black satin blindfold and, to her utter astonishment, a black whip. She carefully examined it. A cluster of smooth threads fanned out from the braided leather handle. She struck her palm, expecting it to sting, but it felt like silk rippling over her skin. Considering the provocative items, her heart raced and a tingling, wet excitement spread between her thighs. She glanced at the cellar door and then reread the card. What carnal desires would she and Mason unearth down there? Not ready for such a discovery, she decided to investigate the other path.

Ellen followed the rose petals up the staircase. They led into her bedroom. Vases of different colored roses adorned every conceivable spot in the room. On the bureau an arrangement of pink roses with lit, white tapered candles, decorated her silver candelabra. A Victorian gift bag with a card attached waited on the bed. Enjoying Mason’s little game, she opened the card.

To my Queen,

This road leads on a quest of self-discovery. Destiny ordained me to be your knight in shining armor. With my trusted sword, I will subdue the demons of your inhibitions, thus freeing you to experience new ways to love and take your passion to greater heights.

Your humble servant, Mason

“Oh, Mason,” she sighed. Sinking down on the bed, she peered into the bag and then pulled out a white, ankle-length nightgown made from thin, sheer silk. Tiny, delicate pleats and small pearl buttons adorned the bodice, and intricate lace trimmed the cuffs of long, puffy sleeves that gathered at the wrists. The garment looked like something out of a Jane Austen novel. She spread the gown out on the bed and then rechecked the bag, finding a small silver box.

Her breath caught when she opened it. An antique pink and white cameo strung on a faded and worn, rose-colored ribbon held Ellen spell bound. She closed the lid and then noticed a card tucked into a vase of roses. She read it.

My Queen,

You are weary from your day of ruling reckless, unappreciative subjects. Come hither, for your bath awaits.

Mason

Ellen rushed into the bathroom. Bouquets of roses littered the space and water steamed in the old claw-footed bathtub. Mason greeted her with smiling eyes and opened arms, a towel draped over his forearm. His playful grin made Ellen breathless.

“I’m waiting to bathe my queen.”

He bowed.

The whole thing was so incredible. No one did things like that. All the time and money he spent for this moment overwhelmed her. Speechless, she fell into his arms, squeezing him so hard she nearly knocked him over.

He laughed. “I’m guessing you’re pleased.” 

Ellen could only nod.

“I’m disappointed. I wanted you to choose the basement.”

“Sorry.” Ellen half laughed, half cried as she kissed him. Mason stepped back and began to undress her.

***

The evening sun cast an orange glow over the neatly mowed grass. A robin sat precariously on the edge of a stone birdbath, flapping its wings. The sound of a lawnmower purred somewhere in the distance. Ellen watched the robin take flight and then turned to look at Mason.

They sat together around Ellen’s wrought iron patio table. A large umbrella shaded them from the long lazy beams of sunlight. Mason cut a small piece of steak and then brought it to his lips. Ellen’s eyes followed the movement of his jaw as he chewed, swallowed, and then dabbed his mouth with his napkin. Returning it to his lap, he cut off another bite, abruptly lifting his gaze.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare at someone when they’re eating?” he asked, pointing the tip of his knife at Ellen.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. You have impeccable table manners.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No. It’s curious.”

“Curious?”

“Yes. I never pictured a biker being so at ease with silverware and a napkin.”

Ellen smiled. “I was expecting you to hold your fork like a shovel and not come up for air until you ate the whole thing.”

She demonstrated.

Mason shook his head. “Your prejudices are showing, and that’s not acceptable for a principal, much less a queen.”

“Touché, my favored knight! So tell me, Mason Hackett, where did all this come from?”

“What do you mean?”

“This.” Ellen spread her arms wide. “This night gown, the cameo, the flawless manners. The scrumptious bath.” A shiver ran up her back as she recalled how his soapy hands had touched her body earlier. “And the expense of it all. Don’t tell me it’s the typical Sons of Thunder style. I was at that rally, remember?”

Mason put down his fork, picked up his bottle of beer, and then took a sip. “I figured I owed you something nice after tearing your nightgown last night.”

“You can’t tear this one. It’s too pretty.”

“I was planning on chewing that one off of you.”

White teeth flashed. Tiny lines formed at the corners of his eyes; the sun caught his hair. Ellen couldn’t imagine ever not wanting to look at this man.

“Hmmm.” She rested her cheek in the palm of her hand.  “It was worth a torn nightgown to see you like that last night.”

“You’re saying you like to piss me off?”

Ellen smiled. “If it works to my advantage.”

Leaning over the table, he grasped her hand, and his eyes ensnared her. Heat crawled up her neck; a sharp, edgy sensation contracted her rib cage, making it hard to breathe.

“You’re not afraid of me then?”

The smooth, sinister, richness of his voice made Ellen squirm. “Should I be?”

He squeezed her hand. “No. So why can’t I go down on you?” 

Ellen sighed, looking up at a cloudless, purple sky. A single star, a million years old, made Ellen lonely. She looked at Mason, pulled her hand free, and then inspected her nails to buy time. How did she tell a stranger about a man she adored, but who never understood her passion? 

“I loved my husband, Mason. Paul was a hard worker. He owned a landscaping business and was becoming quite successful when he was killed. He always encouraged me to pursue my dreams. But he came from a very traditional family and had a hard time with some sexual acts… like that one.”

She folded her hands on the table, looking at Mason. His expression somber and nonjudgmental, Ellen continued. “He thought oral sex was repugnant. The other night when you started to do that, Paul’s voice and his look of utter disgust, began banging around in my head. I’m afraid his ghost still haunts me.”

“Did you ever go down on him?”

She bit her bottom lip. “When we first got married, I would. I didn’t come from a family who had a lot of issues about sex, and Paul was the first person I had sex with. Twenty years old, I was ready, sexual taboos be damned!”

She smiled.

“You little Delilah! You’re going straight to hell.”