Becoming His Mistress Read online A.E. Murphy

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 138526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
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He has a point.

“Now you’re confident but still quiet, so very sexy, but you always have been, just in different ways.” He smiles at me. “I’m older than you by a decade—”

“Twelve years.”

“Whatever… my point is, I’m at an age where I know what I want and that means Ezra is too. Maybe I’m the one who’s wrong about his marriage and how it should be. But do you really want to put your faith in a man who broke what should be an unbreakable vow, for you? Put yourself in his wife’s shoes… maybe he is a loyal and loving husband for the most part… but how well do you actually know him? Do you think she thought their love would last a lifetime when she agreed to marry him? Do you think you’re the only one?”

“You think he’s a fuckboy?”

“I think there’s every chance that you won’t be so shiny in a couple of years, just like his wife.”

I groan, even more confused than before. “Let’s stop talking about this now. I want to enjoy your company and not think about him.”

“Maybe you’ll switch teams and fall in love with me instead?”

“I wish,” I mumble, and then blink slowly. I can’t believe I just said that.

“You do, do you?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh I do… and this now feels like a challenge to me. Sounds like I’ve already got a foot in the door.”

“There’s no foot in anybody’s door.”

“I’m going to woo you and make you ask, Cunty who?”

I laugh and slap his chest. “He’s your friend, behave yourself.”

“Didn’t stop him from sleeping with you when he knew I liked you first. As far as I’m concerned, now you are fair game.”

He liked me first?

“I’m not a piece of meat.” I laugh, secretly loving the attention. “I’m also nothing special.”

“You’re the most fun I’ve had in years with the best ass I’ve seen in years. That’s all I need.”

I roll my eyes, stilling smiling. “When do you go back to Seattle?”

“Something is telling me to extend my visit by a few days.”

“Stoooooppp,” I plead, giggling near uncontrollably.

“Well, promise me you’ll visit me soon. Halley and the rest of my crazy friends want to do karaoke battle with you, even though you never remember the words. Photographic memory but can’t sing lyrics for shit.”

“I was hammered. Like a lot. So shut it. You didn’t do too great yourself.”

“Fair point. Fair point.”

We smile until my cheeks ache and then my smile fades as we pass a billboard of a happy couple in front of a new home. It reminds me of everything I keep trying to forger. “Do you think I’m a terrible person?”

“I think desire and lust can drive good people to do terrible things, but no, I don’t think you’re a terrible person. I think you’re a great person and you’re not losing me as a friend over this.”

“Promise?”

He wrinkles his nose at me and crosses his eyes after stopping at a red light. “You gonna make me swear it with a pinky promise?”

“I don’t know what that is, so no,” I reply around a genuine giggle.

“You don’t know what a pinkie promise is?” His look is one of utter horror. “How do you not know the basic rite that is a pinkie promise?” He hooks his pinkie finger around mine. “I pinkie promise that I will not fall out with you because you prefer my married friend’s penis to mine.”

“You’re not funny,” I grumble, pouting at him while still squeezing his pinkie finger.

“I’m not kidding. Want to compare before I leave?”

“Compare?”

“Our penises.”

Laughing, I pull my hand free and twist his nipple through his shirt. “Let’s go Casa-no-no. Want a tour of my new digs? Compliments of the adulterer?”

“You’re living with him?”

“I love him.”

“Is that going to be your answer for everything until you find something better to say?”

I shrug my shoulders. “What’s better than love?”

“You got me there.”

When I walk into my apartment I smile when I see fresh flowers in the vase on the half-moon table to my right. I dump my keys in the little dish there and lead Robert further inside.

“I’m home,” I call but there’s no answer. His keys aren’t in the dish and his sneakers aren’t there…

Looks like he’s not home. I immediately let my internal gauge jump to extreme panic. I check my phone and wince when I see five missed calls and a text from him.

Ezra: Where the fuck are you?

Rose: I just got home. I’m sorry. What’s wrong?

Ezra: Home from where?

I call him, figuring this will be a better conversation to have over the phone.

“Hey,” he says softly, sounding nicer than his texts. I must have read them in the wrong tone. “Where have you been?”

“With Robert. We went to Universal Studios.”

“You’ve been with him all this time?”

Uh-oh, the tone is back. “Yeah…”


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