The Accidental Mistress
Read The Accidental Mistress Online
Authors: Portia Da Costa
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction, #Romantic Erotica
Contents
Chapter 1: An Undiscovered Country
Chapter 3: Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend
Chapter 4: Strangers in the Night
Chapter 7: Are You Free, Miss Aitchison?
Chapter 12: The Man from the Bar
Chapter 17: Breakfast of Champions
Chapter 19: Lightning Can Strike Twice
Chapter 20: A Rubicon of Sorts
Chapter 22: Quietly, Afterwards
Chapter 23: Enter the New Rival
Chapter 25: Some of the Shadows
Seduced by a billionaire . . .
After being mistaken for a high-class call girl when they first met, Lizzie now enjoys a fiery relationship with John, her gorgeous and incredibly rich older man. Devoted, romantic and devilishly kinky, John knows exactly how to satisfy her every need.
But John has a dark side – and a past he won’t talk about. He might welcome Lizzie in his bed – and out of it – but will she ever be anything more than a rich man’s mistress?
Portia Da Costa is one of the most internationally renowned authors of erotica.
She is the author of over fifteen
Black Lace
novels, as well as being a contributing author to a number of short story collections.
Continuum
Entertaining Mr Stone
Gemini Heat
Gothic Blue
Gothic Heat
Hotbed
In Too Deep
Kiss it Better
Shadowplay
Suite Seventeen
The Accidental Call Girl
The Devil Inside
The Red Collection
The Stranger
The Tutor
Dedicated to the real Alice, gone now, but never to be forgotten.
When Lizzie Aitchison first met John Smith in the Lawns Bar of the Waverley Grange Hotel, she didn’t realise that he thought she was an escort in search of a client. The chemistry between them was dynamite from the outset, and Lizzie couldn’t resist the allure of John’s fallen angel face and the way his lean body looked in a sharp business suit. In a daring leap, she decided to play along with his misapprehension and become ‘Bettie’, the high-class call girl … if only for one night.
John, too, was captivated. Shaken out of a state of ennui, he was gripped by an unstoppable urge to possess this beautiful young woman, whose combination of a distinctive vintage style and a bold yet strangely vulnerable personality was the ultimate call to his senses.
The two embarked on an intense, kinky affair for the duration of John’s stay in the area on business, sharing pleasures far more intense than either one of them had ever expected. Especially when Lizzie was forced to admit that she wasn’t really a call girl after all.
But what was supposed to be a simple, temporary, sex
friendship, just for fun, quickly turned out to be something deeper and more meaningful. And when John returned to Lizzie after a month spent apart, suggesting they try a more permanent relationship, as lovers, the next stage of their passionate journey had begun.
An Undiscovered Country
He’s come back! He’s come back! It wasn’t just temporary … He’s come back! He’s come back!
Lizzie walked beside John, her hand tucked under his arm, and the sun shone overhead, benign and warm. She matched his long stride easily, as if he was giving her some kind of turbo energy boost. In fact, if he hadn’t been her anchor, she’d probably have been bouncing around him Tigger-style, or floating upwards like a balloon full of excitement. She couldn’t stop looking at him, either. She simply couldn’t stop looking at him.
The most handsome man she’d ever seen, the most daring, fascinating, exciting, demanding man she could ever have imagined … he’d come back because he wanted to be with
her
.
Don’t go mad, woman. And don’t get all gooey. He’ll think you’re mental!
‘Are you OK?’ John gave her a sideways smile as they walked, his sandy eyebrows lifting. He could feel her insane excitement, she knew he could. He’d been able to read her like a book from day one. Now, more than ever, she was
convinced he’d suspected she wasn’t a call girl on that night they’d first met at the Waverley. But being John, he’d played along with her silly masquerade. Because it’d suited him, and he’d wanted
her
to have fun.
But this … this was a new game, with new rules. Infinitely more challenging. The thought of it made her heart thunder, thud, thud, thud.
‘I’m fine …’ Who was she kidding? Fine? What a small, stupid word. ‘Actually, I feel a bit giddy … as if I’m in a dream.’ No use trying to hide it from him. He knew anyway.
John’s grip tightened on her hand. ‘You know what? I feel a bit the same … Exciting, isn’t it?’ He leaned in close, his breath like a zephyr in her ear. ‘And I’m dying to fuck you. It’s been a long hard month, gorgeous girl.
Very
hard. I thought I might die of frustration.’
‘Me too.’ No point in denying that either.
‘Well, won’t be long now. Here we are.’
They’d reached a car. John’s car. Half expecting the limousine, Lizzie was taken aback. The vehicle they were standing in front of was still substantial and luxurious, a sleek black Bentley Continental, if she wasn’t mistaken, recognising the badge from a car owned by a friend of her mother.
Goodness, he drives. He drives
himself
. I thought …
John gave her a searching look as he opened the passenger door and she slid inside, settling into a deep, leather-upholstered seat, as comfortable as a Scandinavian armchair, and as cradling as if it’d been tailored to fit her.
The driver’s door closed with a soft, perfectly engineered clomp as John settled himself at her side. But he didn’t start the motor. Instead, he turned in his seat, a quizzical yet serious expression on his face.
‘It was over twenty years ago, love.’ His eyes were steady, and he looked calm, but there was a hint of something stark and melancholy, far back in his expression. ‘You don’t think I’d ever have got back behind a wheel if I wasn’t completely sure I’d learnt my lesson, do you? There isn’t a day that goes by without my thinking about what I did. You’re perfectly safe. I’m not the man I was back then.’
They’d never discussed this, not properly, but no doubt he knew that she’d Googled him. So he must know she’d discovered his troubled history on the road. The car crash in his twenties, his conviction for dangerous driving. And the fact that he’d lost his licence for several years too.
‘I trust you. I know you’d never do anything bad deliberately … you’re not that kind of person.’
John laughed; a short, brusque sound. ‘Well, now you’re giving me far too much benefit of the doubt, woman. I’m no angel. But buckle up anyway, and I’ll drive you to the Waverley like a punctilious maiden aunt. Never over twenty miles an hour, promise.’
‘Actually, that sounds more like my mother.’ Lizzie grinned, thinking of her
über
-cautious parent. ‘She’s the slowest driver in the entire world.’
‘Well, I’ll drive like her, then.’ John gave her a quick, salacious smirk, and then fired the engine. ‘I bet your mother would probably have a fit, though, if she knew what I’ve got planned for her daughter when I get her to the Waverley.’
The smirk became a wicked wink, and then was gone in an instant. As if a switch had tripped, John’s face straightened and he was all attention to the road: sharp of eye, serious, completely focused. The junction out of the car park was an awkward one, but within moments they’d smoothly
negotiated it and were scudding on their way, heading out of town, towards the Waverley Grange Country House Hotel.
I
do
feel safe.
It was true. The momentary blip she’d experienced was gone. Behind the wheel, John was as assured, confident and as unassailably competent as he was in all things. Not that she’d experienced John in many ‘things’. She knew him almost exclusively from the bedroom, and sex … and from the way he’d taken charge and got her back home within an hour when her friend and house-mate Brent had tried to commit suicide. The circumstances couldn’t have been more different, and yet in both, John had excelled, and been supreme.
He didn’t speak while he drove, and she wondered whether that was for her benefit, so she’d feel confident in his total concentration. Only while waiting at a junction did he glance sideways at her, with a smile.
The silence gave Lizzie the chance to ogle him.
Slyly, and out of his sight-line, she pinched her own thigh. He was a dream. A beautiful, golden, alpha-male dream with the profile of an archangel and the gilded curls to match. During the month they’d been apart, time after time, she’d almost managed to convince herself that he’d been a figment of her fantasies, and that the emails and thoughtful gifts were imaginary too.
But now, the fantasy was reality. John Smith, billionaire, aristocrat and world-class sexual genius was beside her, and whisking her away to his hotel room to make passionate love to her.
And after that, who knew? An undiscovered country …
It didn’t take long to reach their destination, even though, true to his word, John didn’t drive particularly fast. But here
they were again at the Waverley Grange Country House Hotel, the place she supposed they could call their old stomping ground. The place where a different life had begun.
In the lobby, astonishingly, John almost seemed hesitant. Good grief, surely he wasn’t as big a bag of nerves as she was, was he?
His hand tightened around hers. ‘Lunch … or room service?’
I shouldn’t. You shouldn’t. We should talk, really, not just throw ourselves at one another like a pair of randy animals.
And yet, out came the words, ‘Oh, room service, please.’
John’s blue eyes flared, and he led her towards the lift. Usually the coolly contained gentleman in public, he was in a rush now, fingers gripping hers almost to the point of pain again, just as in the car park. It was as if he feared she might break free and bolt.
‘Oh, love,’ he sighed as the lift doors closed. Taking her in his arms, he brought his mouth down on hers again, the taste of his lips, oh God, so delicious, so right. Lizzie opened her own mouth to welcome his thrusting tongue.
And that wasn’t the only part of him that was thrusting. Had he been erect all the way here, since the car park? She’d hardly dared look. Now, though, even such a short ride up was plenty long enough for him to pin her against the lift wall and mould his body to hers. She almost laughed against his lips.
This
was the elevator scene she’d joked about on that very first night when they’d met in a hotel bar and he’d easily persuaded her to go up to his room. A thousand times more meaningful than it could ever have been back then.
John no longer had to hustle her along. She was with him all the way as they hurried to his room, and the door was no sooner shut than they were pulling at each other’s clothes,
kicking away shoes, wrenching at buttons and zips. Then, kissing her again, and still in his underwear, John fumbled like a youth with the hooks of her bra as he walked her backwards to the chintz-covered bed and tipped her on to it.
‘Oh, hell, yes,’ he growled, hitching sideways across the bed then climbing on, spreading himself on top of her like a living quilt. He kissed again, deep, deep, deep, exploring her mouth while he rocked against her, his cock like an iron bar in his trunks, rubbing against her hip.
Oh, hell, yes!
Beside herself with excitement, Lizzie spread her thighs so he could press against her pussy instead, hot and hard through the thin fabric of their underwear.
Oh John, I want you … I love you … even if it’s crazy.
Her brain whirled, critical faculties fighting to survive, and failing.
He smelt divine. His body was perfect. He kissed like a god.
Her own body was shaking, shaking really hard now. She was out of control. She couldn’t think. What the hell was happening to her?
It’s too much. I think I’m going to faint.
