Sex, Lies (The Infidelity Trilogy #1)

Chapter 1

One

“ C ome on, please, Steph, it won’t be the same without you,” pleaded Lindsay. “You’re my best friend and my maid of honour next week, you have to be at the hen night.”

“Okay.” Steph gave in easily, as they both knew she would because her friend was right, plus nobody liked to party quite like she did. “I will have to work late all week to get these bloody accounts sorted in time for the boss’ meeting with a new client.”

“Ooh, are you being entrusted with new clients now?” Lindsay faked enthusiasm and excitement.

“Prospective new client, a big multi conglomerate, but I think Jack is just lining up a scape goat if it goes tits up, but that’s my look out, not yours. So, is Charlie having his stag do on the same night as your hen party?” asked Steph, still surprised that Charlie hadn’t gone for the whole weekend abroad kind of affair.

“Yes, in fact we are going to meet up at the end of the night at that new club, The Pressure Cooker,” explained Lindsay, making Steph laugh.

“It’s called The Pressure Palace, Linds’, but it’s supposed to be really good there.”

“Are you bringing a plus one to the wedding? If you’re struggling I could ask Charlie if he has a friend . . .” started Lindsay.

“I will be coming alone, but do not set me up, please. I really am begging you. I am barely over the fact that I am single again, but I am glad to be without Simon and his stifling craziness,” she admitted honestly. “The truth is I was single for a lot longer than I realised, or at least Simon was.”

“Okay, I promise. I will see you at mine on Friday about seven o’clock and dress to party. Oh, and my mum has decided that she wants to wave us off, so keep the dicks, condoms and inflatable men under wraps until after she’s gone.”

Steph laughed at the effect a raucous hen night might have on her friend’s mum. “Maybe I have gone more highbrow than that.”

“Hardly. You may be Little Miss Respectable Accountant by day, but we both know you are Little Miss Sleazy by night.” Lindsay laughed, laughter Steph reciprocated, although her amusement was short lived when she suddenly wondered if her friend really viewed her that way.

Steph was clock watching whilst sitting in her office, counting down the minutes until she could break up for a week. It was a hot, sweaty Friday afternoon, typical for the height of summer. She had Lindsay’s hen night that night and then a week off before Lindsay and Charlie’s wedding the following Saturday. Lindsay had lots planned for them to prepare for the wedding.

Her phone rang making her jump and she was surprised to hear Jack Baker’s voice at the end of the line.

“Miss Pryor, I believe you are on leave next week?”

“Yes,” she replied, wondering why the most senior partner in Baker, Ross and Riley solicitors was calling her direct. He had a P.A. to deal with such menial tasks, but here he was chatting with her, if that’s what he was doing.

“Hmmm, I am meeting with the CEO of Brooker Incorporated a week Monday and I will need all of the figures for the proposed contract with them no later than Wednesday,” he told her.

“I have them here, if you’d like them today I can email them now,” she told him.

“Oh, no, I just wanted to make sure you had completed them and I am not an expert on figures, well, not numerical ones anyway.” He laughed to himself while Steph rolled her eyes. “But can you email me a copy and the CEO’s P.A. at Brookers next Friday, late Friday? I would like to keep them on their toes,” he sniggered.

“Of course, if that’s what you want, just send me the email address for Brookers and I will do it from home next week or schedule it.” She thought Jack Baker was a slimy git, but his reputation as a hard-nosed, manipulative corporate lawyer was well deserved. However he made her nervous for very different reasons. He always looked at her tits, never her eyes and although their meetings were rare, she was now nervous that if they didn’t get the account to provide legal services to Brooker Incorporated he would blame her facts and figures and she would be demoted if not sacked.

“Thank you, Miss Pryor and enjoy your week off,” he said and was gone, hanging up with no warning.

She sat back in her chair and smiled as Rosie, her assistant, appeared in the open doorway.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, fine, just a bit nervous about this big contract with Brookers. I have barely got my feet under my new desk and I could be out on my ear if it doesn’t pan out,” she admitted.

“No way. Baker loves looking at your tits bouncing as you run past his office too much to sack you.”

“Thanks. Not because I am an incredible accountant, but because my tits bounce.” Steph’s outrage was only partially fake because she kind of agreed with Rosie.

“That as well. You wouldn’t have got the promotion to head of new business accounts if you weren’t good, Steph. Now go home and enjoy your holiday,” Rosie all but ordered.

Steph knocked at Lindsay’s door and was greeted warmly by Mrs Walters.

“Stephanie, how are you my dear? You look lovely, if a little under-dressed,” she said as Lindsay appeared behind her dressed in black slacks and a glittery boob tube.

“You look fab.” Lindsay hugged her friend and looked her up and down.

Steph was wearing a black, lace, sleeveless dress that fitted very close with a plunging back and just skimmed her hips to hide her modesty. She had teamed it with a pair of black stilettos that had silver metallic heels adding another five inches to her own five feet seven.

Steph smiled and then looking at the mirror in the hallway, asked, “Am I over-dressed though? You look quite modest.” Twirling, she took in the image reflected back and thought the dress clung to her curves, emphasising her rounded behind and full breasts. She didn’t really go in for exercise or the gym so didn’t consider her legs to be super toned or her belly entirely flat, but she was comfortable in her own skin and embraced the softness of her curves.

“You look great and as I am meeting my future husband at the end of the night I thought I should go with a little modesty, but you are young, free and single, not to mention gorgeous, so go for it,” her friend encouraged.

By the time they were ready to leave, Steph had let her long, straight, dark brown hair down and reapplied her red lip gloss and mascara. They had been joined by Lindsay’s sisters and some other friends and as the twelve of them left, Mrs Walters was snapping away with multiple phones for all she was worth.

They started off in a hotel bar before moving onto a wine bar and by the time they entered The Pressure Palace they were all rather tipsy and Steph had acquired the phone numbers of about seven men, including one claiming to be the owner of the club.

The whole party had put on the now essential hen party t-shirts and pink sparkly head bands with willies on, bobbing as they walked. Lindsay was complete with sash, crown, badge, and L plates, but the final piece of the party was just about to arrive, ‘Rampant Rodney and his Python of Love.’

He was highly recommended by Rosie who had seen him at a previous hen party and as Steph looked across the room she saw him coming towards them. He was about six feet two inches and very broad with what looked like flawless ebony skin and as his music started, he abandoned his clothes and honed in on the bride, dancing with and around her before producing a bottle of oil that he encouraged Lindsay to ‘rub in.’ Lindsay was most enthusiastic courtesy of her merry state and as Steph laughed loudly at her friend she saw the perfect opportunity to take numerous pictures, many she would tease her friend with at a later date. Steph screamed as she watched her friend’s hands disappearing beneath the leather pouch, the only thing Rodney was wearing but he did nothing to stop it. As the music ended, Rodney kissed Lindsay on the cheek and wished her good luck with the wedding before asking for Steph who escorted him out and paid him the balance of his fee. As she was about to leave him at the entrance to the club he offered her his number.

“Call me, if you have another hen party or if you’d like a more exclusive show.”

Heat touched her cheeks slightly as she saw Charlie grinning at her, her blush deepening as he leapt upon her and shouted, “Hi, baby, have you missed me?” then picked her up and carried her back into the club risking her modesty as she dangled over his shoulder. “No need to thank me,” he said as he placed her on her feet.

“Who said I was going to?” She pouted at him. “He was seriously hot.”

“But he is the stripper and not your type at all, plus, can you imagine my future mother-in-law’s face if you turn up at her daughter’s wedding with the hen party stripper as your plus one?”

They both laughed at that notion and Charlie signalled to a large group of men behind her.

“Everybody, this is Stephanie, Lindsay’s best friend, maid of honour, hirer of strippers and all-round hot totty,” announced Charlie, still grinning at her until he spotted Lindsay dancing in the distance and without another word, he left, with only his fiancée on his mind.

The others dispersed, some found their wives or girlfriends, whilst others looked around for new ones. Steph felt slightly awkward as she realised she was standing with a man in Charlie’s group who was a little older than her, maybe, early thirties compared to her twenty-five years, but he was very handsome. He stood at a similar height to the stripper and had dark brown hair, cut so that it curled back off his head. His eyes were staring straight through her, an intensity to the bright blue whose gaze she couldn’t break away from and his lips, thin and narrow, briefly filled her thoughts; were they soft when kissing? What might they taste like?

He had broad shoulders that she could see through a casual white shirt with two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up that he wore with plain black casual trousers. She looked at his feet and smiled at the loafers he wore, immaculate, just like the rest of him.

Steph’s musing was broken when she realised the man before her seemed to be impatiently waiting for something, tapping his foot on the floor and the fingers of one hand upon the other. Despite his impatience, she grinned up at him to see he was making no secret of the fact that he was giving her the once over; her face, shoulders, breasts, abdomen, legs, feet, he even appeared to move sideways slightly to get a look at her bum, making her giggle slightly, which just made him frown.

“Jon,” cried Lindsay as she rushed over and hugged the prime example of a man before Steph.

He smiled at the bride-to-be before he hugged her, a smile that made him light up like a Christmas tree. Steph thought that he couldn’t be anymore gorgeous, but she had been wrong. He was, and although she had refused to allow any real thoughts of a sexual nature to invade her mind since she had split up with Simon six months before, well none involving other people, she could feel them surfacing now as she stared at Jon.

Lindsay was still hugging him as she said, “You two need to familiarise yourselves. This is Steph, my maid of honour, and this is Jon, Charlie’s best man.”

Jon was certainly the best man she had ever seen. She immediately felt foolish because not only was he a complete stranger, he was well out of her league.

“As you wish, Bridezilla,” he teased. “Steph, let me get you a drink.”

He took her arm and pushed her in front of him towards the bar.

“What would you like?”

She stared vaguely across the drinks on offer and eventually said, “Vodka and cranberry, please.”

“Really?” he asked. “You seem as though you may have had enough judging by your performance with the stripper.” His words were an accusation, the disapproval dripped from every word uttered.

She stared at him and thought that his head was so far up his own arse he probably thought it was permanently nighttime.

He ordered her drink without another word and a beer for himself before gesturing for her to sit down at a booth table nearby.

“So, Steph, Stephanie I assume?”

She nodded causing him to frown at her, leaving Steph wondering whether it was her or her name that was currently causing his irritation.

“How do you know Lindsay?”

“We went to school together. We met on our first day when we were almost five and we’ve been friends ever since.”

“How sweet,” he said, but even the ‘nice’ words didn’t sound entirely genuine, well at least not when directed at her.

“So are you a secretary like Lindsay?”

Steph laughed and mimicked Lindsay as she corrected, “P.A.”

He smiled at her, causing strange fluttering in her stomach.

“No, I’m an accountant.”

“You don’t look like any accountant I have ever seen.” He blatantly stared at her chest.

“Well, this isn’t exactly business dress,” she told him, gesturing the length of her body.

“I should think not. I would never allow anybody of mine to wear such revealing clothes.” He sounded quite serious, but Steph was unsure what he meant by ‘anybody of mine’; wife, girlfriend, sister, secretary, temp, accountant, what?

“You sound like my dad,” she teased, causing his expression to change to a darker one before he took her hands across the table.

“Trust me, Miss?” he enquired.

“Pryor,” she said in spite of a very dry mouth that was in stark contrast to her palms that were suddenly hot and sweaty, something he must be aware of with her hands still tucked in his.

“Trust me, Miss Pryor, if I were your dad, you would not be out in a dress that barely covers your arse and so drunk that you think it is appropriate to virtually give yourself up on the door to a stripper.”

He was still staring at her, making her want to look away, but she couldn’t, she was transfixed, hypnotised.

“I wouldn’t?” She wanted to kick herself for not having a smart arse answer that told him to sod off and mind his own business.

“No, you wouldn’t, but I am not your dad.”

She swallowed, desperate for him to tell her where she would be and doing what if he were her dad. Not her actual dad, obviously, because that would be weird and altogether wrong. Right now she thought she would do anything he told her to as he continued to watch her so intently. Could she call him ‘daddy’?

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

She shook her head wondering where the hell this was going. “No. We split up about six months ago,” she told him as he pulled his hands free of hers.

“Why? Did he disapprove of you flaunting yourself like this?” He waved a hand over the length of her body, radiating annoyance and disapproval once more. “Was your slutty Steph persona a little much for him?”

“No!” she snapped, tiring of him, feeling angry, at him and Simon. “He was a dickhead who thought he could continue to live the single life whilst I should live the life of a reclusive nun,” she spat at him.

“I see.”

Steph stared across at him, certain that he didn’t see anything about her, but why would he? He didn’t know her and perhaps that was for the best because she was certain that he was incapable of seeing anything from any perspective that wasn’t his.

“If I had been him and you had dressed like this and drunk like that.” He gestured again, this time to her glass. “And put on that little show for the stripper you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“No?” she asked breathlessly, unsure how he was able to trigger these reactions in her. All indications were that he was a bit of a dickhead meaning she should not be imagining anything other than getting up and walking away. Yet she was still sitting here being lectured and disapproved of when she really had done nothing wrong. She wanted to slap herself more than him now.

“No. In fact, you would struggle to sit down for the next week after I had finished with you, you and what would by now have been a very red arse.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off him and could feel her arousal rising further. Her breathing increased and there was a damp warmth between her thighs. She really needed to get up and leave this arrogant man behind before she reacted further to him. The mere thought triggered a flush to her neck, chest and face. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and he smiled. The arrogant arse knew the exact effect he was having on her, and he clearly liked it.

Lindsay broke into their conversation, if you could call it that when she shouted across to Steph, “Come on you, they’re playing our song.”

She reached Steph’s side and pulled her to her feet and off to the dance floor.

“You two looked very close,” said Lindsay excitedly.

“Hardly. He is a bigger dickhead and even more crazy than Simon was,” Steph said and although she didn’t look, she knew he was watching her.

She continued to dance with the girls in her group and several men who joined them for varying lengths of time. They all continued to drink too and it was as Steph was about to accept a drink from a young man that Jon appeared beside her, clearly intent on preventing anything resembling fun happening.

Standing at her side he addressed the other man, “She’s had enough, thanks mate,” and turned her to walk away.

“I think that’s her choice, don’t you?” asked the other man defiantly.

“Not in the state she’s in and it seems that she is with me, so . . .” Jon spoke calmly but with an undercurrent of confrontation.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise, no offence meant,” said the other man, retreating slightly.

“What are you doing?” Steph angrily turned to face Jon.

“Saving you from making a huge mistake and attempting to keep you safe from yourself as well as guys who think drunk girls are always consenting,” he informed her and led her to a glass of water. “Drink it.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he interrupted her.

“You are, according to Lindsay and Charlie, a very bright, articulate, funny and intelligent young lady and whilst I can’t imagine accounting being awfully exciting it can’t be so dull that you have to come out looking and behaving this way. Now, drink the water,” he barked at her impatiently.

She began to sip the water in spite of her desire to dowse Jon in it as Charlie appeared with Lindsay over his shoulder.

“We’re off. It would appear that my wife-to-be is a light weight where drinking is concerned. Do you want to share a cab with us, Steph? Linds will have a fit in the morning if she thinks I have abandoned you on your own in such a merry state.” He laughed but hearing his words, Steph couldn’t help but wonder if everyone perceived her as being a bit slutty, slutty Steph , someone who drank too much, dressed inappropriately and was sexually promiscuous, always consenting as Jon had put it when nothing could be farther from the truth.

Steph was about to join Charlie when Jon intervened, “It’s fine, mate. I will make sure Stephanie gets home safely. We were in the middle of familiarising ourselves as your bride requested.”

Part of her wanted to scream and run with Charlie, but another part of her wanted to see where this crazy man would take her tonight.

“Then I will see you at the gym on Monday,” Charlie said to Jon, “and you,” he looked to Steph now, “I will see you at the church, looking breath-taking no doubt.” With his bride still dangling over his shoulder he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

She had barely finished the water when Jon said, “Let’s go.”

Steph looked at him with confusion, this man seemed to have many personas, although each of them seemed to be irritated with her to some extent. “Or we could stay and dance.” She shook her head at his frown, wondering why she had even suggested something that might be fun to a man who was undoubtedly the most miserable man in the world.

“I don’t dance.” he replied flatly, already pulling her on her feet.

“Of course you don’t,” she muttered, but made no attempt to do anything other than leave with him.

They stood on the pavement outside where she suddenly felt very much the worse for wear and as she wobbled next to him he placed an arm around her waist and held her upright.

A cab pulled up and one of the doormen opened the door. “Goodnight gorgeous and don’t forget to call.”

Jon sat next to her in the cab where he shook his head and whispered to her, “You see, some guys view drunk women as consenting, have no respect for you and view you as slutty.”

“And some women might see you as a bit of a dick. Me. I’m some women.”

A short chuckle sounded beside her meaning her thoughts may not have remained in her head.