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Of Lies and Earls

Page 42

by Sadie Bosque

And that almost was enough to stop him from acting on his desires. She was in his employ. Her livelihood depended on his goodwill. She might not dare refuse him for fear of being dismissed without a recommendation. And if she did refuse him, the children would lose the woman who had become essential to their lives.

Not that it mattered now. She was leaving his household. Acting on his feelings now would be beyond selfish.

This left only one other option—hiring a harlot.

He let out a breath.

The lights blurred before him, the music turning into noise. Here we go again.

He never felt comfortable in loud, noisy places. After a while, he found himself retreating into the dark corners of his mind. That was one of the reasons he didn’t like social events.

Well, perhaps it was for the best that he was about to engage in a tryst. At least there, the music wouldn’t be as distractingly loud, the lights wouldn’t flicker around him, and he would be alone with a woman.

“Good,” he finally said, his mind not yet caught up with his mouth. “Lead the way. Where should I go?”

Drake pointed him to a row of secluded spaces, separated by thick crimson curtains. “The third one from the left is yours. You can go in there and wait for the woman to appear.”

Caldwell nodded, still gathering his wits. “Should I say something to her, or…?”

Drake let out a guffaw. “My poor friend. No. No words will be necessary. When she comes in, you go straight to her and kiss her. She’ll do the rest. Wait—” He grabbed Caldwell by the sleeve just as he was about to step away. “Actually, if you like what she’s doing—or how she feels—feel free to tell her. Women like reassurances.”

Caldwell frowned. “Such as?”

Drake waved a careless hand. “If she touches you where you like it, just say it feels good. Tell her she’s beautiful, even if she’s not. Tell her you like how wet you make her, because if she finds you desirable, she will be wet, you understand? If she’s not, then—”

“Thank you.” Caldwell clapped Drake on the shoulder, desperate to end the embarrassing conversation and already regretting asking for advice.

He quickly disengaged from his friend, grabbed a glass of wine on his way out, and downed it in two large gulps.

Leaving the empty glass behind, he stepped into the room beyond the curtain.

It was pitch black. Thank God.

And calm.

It was not as quiet, but the music did not dominate the space. It felt… peaceful.

He removed his spectacles with trembling hands and tucked them carefully into his waistcoat pocket. Without them, the world became a soft blur. He couldn’t see much in the dark anyway—perhaps that was for the best.

A few minutes passed.

Still, no one came.

Was this some sort of joke? It would be just like Drake to pull his leg in this way. Yet, that almost seemed the better outcome.

He paced the room, heart pounding so loudly he thought it might echo through the masquerade hall, even with all the music roaring. Perhaps he should leave. Go home. Lie in his warm bed.

He’d wasted enough time.

But just as he turned to go, the curtain shifted.

A woman stepped into the room, silhouetted against the light behind her. He couldn’t make out her features, but he saw a black mask covering her cheeks and nose. And… were those cat ears on top? Propped against her dark locks styled in elaborate curls.

“You came,” he said, and the relief in his voice surprised him.

She stepped farther into the room, her silhouette now swallowed by the dark. “My lord,” she whispered, breathless.

The sound of her voice sent desire coiling through him. Gooseflesh covered his skin, blood pooling low in his stomach, then settling in his cock.