The Mistress - an Erotic Noir Novel
Read The Mistress - an Erotic Noir Novel Online
Authors: J. E. Keep,M. Keep
J.E. AND M. KEEP
This book is intended for sale to Adult Audiences only. It
contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language. All sexually
active characters in this work are of legal age. Over 40,000 words.
If you require
content warnings:
this particular story
contains cheating, age-play, BDSM, affairs, promiscuity, and
male/female sex.
Make sure to sign up for the newsletter
for exclusive content, information on new releases, and three free books instantly as a thank you!
To our friends who didn’t judge, readers
of
The Keep
back when we were
first starting out, and
Darknest
Fantasy Erotica
who encouraged us to keep going.
Eva wasn’t ready to devote herself to one person.
She was a brilliant woman who had a bright future ahead of her, and liked having a choice of men.
That is, until her favourite lover’s wife is killed.
Sex. Intrigue. Mystery.
Eva quickly realizes that the men who lust for her have dark secrets of their own, and they threaten to consume her whole.
An erotic thriller. Contains non monogamy, cheating, infidelity, roleplay, ageplay, and some light BDSM.
Chapter 1
New England was experiencing a cold chill that January as the
psychology department kicked off its little celebration party. It was
supposed to be something general to welcome in the new semester, but
instead it ended up being focussed around one individual in
particular. It had grown late for a department function, and all that
remained other than her were the four gentlemen on staff.
Each with a certain glint in their eye as they listened to the
brilliant young woman that so stole all of the attention from the
room. All of them but Martin, her old friend, were several times her
age, and the fact they lingered this long was testament to her
ability to capture attention on the topic of their shared passion.
“You never cease to intrigue,” crooned Samuel Turing,
the rather hawkish pharmacological expert, his hair so starkly white
and eyes almost predatory.
“Or captivate,” responded the handsome British doctor,
Terrance Russell, newest to the faculty with his sleek black hair and
old world charm.
Her friend, Martin Hale, merely gave her that meek, proud smile he
always did when she delivered another brilliant point of
contemplation.
Though it was the head of the department, Dr. Gregory Sinclair, so
soft spoken, but dashingly handsome in his fine suits and silver
hair, that stepped up beside her and placed his hand on her shoulder
lightly, drink in hand. “In a semester's time she’ll be
our latest graduate student here in the department, gentlemen. Keep
an eye on her,” he said with a certain twinkle, “she’ll
be gunning for your jobs in no time.”
The two other doctors chimed in almost simultaneously, “Thank
God for tenure.”
With a muted chuckle Sinclair declared, “I really must be
going now though, the hour is late.” Looking to the woman of
the hour he said pleasantly, “A moment of your time just
outside the door before I go, if you please. Need to inform you a bit
on some things you’ll need to know for your final semester as
an undergraduate.” It was all said with such ease and
innocence, she could almost believe it despite knowing the truth.
Eva rolled her eyes for the benefit of the others as she slid from
her spot, “Ah, work is never done, is it,” she smiled
good naturedly. Her brown hair was cut short in the style of many of
the actresses of the day, her curls lovingly framing her face and
making her wide, brown eyes look even larger. Her charcoal coloured
clothes were of fine, tailored make, and though no one could say it
was scandalous, the curves she hid beneath them were. Rather than the
loose flapper style of the less educated masses, her blouse and skirt
were fitted.
She was a proper lady, made up just enough to accentuate her
natural beauty, without seeming cheap or tawdry. “It’s
been a pleasure, gentlemen. To a wonderful new semester filled with
impossibly bright breakthroughs and more of these lovely soirees,”
she tipped her head, her matching grey hat shielding her eyes for a
moment.
Before she could go Dr. Russell spoke up, with drink raised
towards the young woman, “Ah, I do hope you aren’t
planning to take off Eva,“ he smiled charmingly, “Old
Sinclair there isn’t the only one amongst us with business to
discuss with you, I’ll have you know.” The hawkish Turing
have a nod affirming that.
Sinclair gave a light laugh, “I was only planning to steal
her attentions for but a moment as I got ready,” he said,
moving out the door.
All the while her friend Martin looked a bit consternated, his
blue eyes flitting between the old men desperate for her attention.
“We’ll see how true that holds,” she smiled
brightly, “and play the rest of the evening by ear.” She
was a confident young woman, as bright and beautiful as any, and
even—or perhaps especially—in a room a men, did she
shine.
Heading outside the department meeting room, the tall, handsome
silver haired Sinclair gave her such a smile. Like her, he was
refined and dignified. His displays were so muted and subtle, but
powerful. Behind his glasses she could see a certain spark there.
“Eva, I trust I’ll be seeing you in a week’s time
at my place,” he said, his soft-spoken voice managing to be
intriguingly suggestive as he put on his overcoat and began to wrap
his scarf about himself, “a private study of Freud’s
psycho-sexual theories is overdue for us, I believe.”
Her lip quirked as she stepped to his front, watching him dress
with some fascination. “At what date and time did you have in
mind? A week is an awfully long time to wait,” she teased, dark
humour twinkling in her eyes. Her voice had gone low, not so skilled
as he at hiding her own desires.
His own lips contorted just so as he did up his coat and pulled
his gloves on, “A week exactly from today, at six in the
evening. There shall be something of a little dinner party happening
then, and I could use the distraction from the doldrums of my wife’s
associates and social climbers.”
“Ah, well isn’t that delightful for the little
missus,” she crooned as her gloved fingers went to his collar,
righting it and patting it against his chest, lingering there
over-long, “I will make the arrangements then. Will we be
dining before working?”
With a shrug of his brows the handsome older gentleman donned his
hat and reached out, brushing his gloved fingertips against her elbow
in such a casual yet meaningful way. “I suppose time shall
tell, no? See you then, miss Perkin’s,” he tipped his
hat, “and be careful not to leave them waiting in there too
long, they’ll turn cannibalistic,” he remarked a bit
wryly as he turned to leave.
“Might be better they should,” she grinned, her heels
clicking on the floor as she took a step back. “Would make for
a lovely thesis topic.” Her gloved hand gripped the knob, and
once more returned to the small, dwindling party, “Ah, for once
he was short with me!”
The handsome, sleek black haired Russell chimed in, “Sinclair?
Short with someone? I can’t imagine that soft-spoken old
gentleman doing such a thing,” he remarked, playing on her
words with a toothy smile.
Turing butt in immediately, giving the meek Martin no time to do
anything but smile at her lightly. “I do hope that Sinclair
hasn’t filled your head with too many of his schemes yet, Eva.
There’s more the department can offer you besides his take.
Pharmacology is the future,” he said, raising his drink to her.
She laughed good naturedly, shaking her head, “Ah, if only I
had the time to become an expert at it all. I might never leave this
place, spending eternity learning and being taught by my superiors.”
Though she spoke with the professors, her gaze fell to her friend, a
wry smile saved just for him, “And I doubt father would be
willing to pay for an eternity of education.”
The young—comparatively, he still had nearly a decade on
her—Mr. Martin Hale didn’t seem to know what to make of
her wry smile, looking a bit dumbfounded.
The other two men though swept in about her. Russell reaching out
to touch her shoulder, “Nonsense, Eva. You’ll be riding
high on scholarships I imagine. And with a freedom to do as you wish
for the long haul! And that, darling lady, is why you should consider
me as your mentor rather than these old fools,” he said with a
cheery smile that always managed to disarm people when he insulted
them.
Turing, for his part, gave an irritated grump at that remark,
“You’ll be doing your Master’s degree soon, Eva.
You really should take some time to explore what the pharmaceutical
side of psychology has to offer. How about we take a bit of time to
go to my office and discuss it now, hm?”
Before she had any time to respond Russell brushed off the
request, “Nonsense! Your drugs can wait, they’re all
nonsense anyhow. How about we go to my office and speak of the
future?” With a dashing smile, the dark haired foreign
professor looked quite charming, while the hawkish Turing looked
intense, were they not such civil types she could almost swear it’d
turn to violence.
She laughed, enjoying the rivalry before the two, “Ah,
you’ll both tear my arms off trying to get me to follow, yet
you both know I’m fascinated in all aspects and theories. I’ll
explore with both of you, but you simply must be more patient.”
Her eyes sparkled as she looked between the two. “Now, would it
make you both feel better if I set up appointments to discuss, at
your hearts leisure, the benefits and glories of both your fields? I
have an engagement next Saturday, but surely you two would be free
for me during this coming week?”
Russell looked crestfallen, Turing simply annoyed. Martin piped
in, “The next week before classes officially start is known to
be a period when academics retreat to high society a final time.”
“Yes,” said Russell, hand rubbing at her shoulder
between thumb and fingers, “shall be a hectic time. But...”
gesturing to Turing he said, “Turing here doesn’t mind
scheduling something with you after that, you and I, however? We
should talk now,” he insisted.
The tall yet slender Turing objected, “Oh come now, your
bluster is not impressing the lady.”
This was always her least favourite part of men squabbling over
her. She simply wished it’d continue forever, never forcing her
to choose. She sighed, a bit exaggeratedly, as she looked between the
two men, “You two will be the absolute death of me. I hardly
wish to allow either of you to feel as though you’re
secondary,” she tut tutted. “Still, I haven’t much
time left this evening, and I imagine teaching me pharmacology would
take longer than I have. At least to the depths I’d wish to
explore it.”
Her gaze landed on Turing, and her expression was, for but the
briefest second, almost as predatory as his before she softened it
with a warm, toothy smile. “I’d like to plan to spend a
day exploring such virtues with you. If you haven’t time the
next coming week, perhaps on next Sunday afternoon, I could invite
you over.”
That generous—almost inappropriate even—offer
mollified the professor, who gave a quick nod of his head, his white
hair shifting. “Perfect,” he said. “I shall bring
some things I’m certain you’d love to see in action.”
With a slap of Russell’s hand upon the other professor’s
shoulder, the tall dark British man began to guide her toward the
door, “With that out of the way, we really should get down to
the brass tacks of your future, madam,” he said with a toothy
smile.
She gave a friendly wave to the other two as they chatted
familiarly before allowing herself to fall into step with the taller
man, her heels clicking with each step, her grey shoes a perfect
companion to her suit, “You are a rather direct sort, aren’t
you?” she asked as the door clasped behind them.
With a hearty chuckle he guided her down the dimly lit halls
towards his office, “Well, miss Perkin’s, I did not
travel across the ocean to accept a position here at Clarford out of
desperation,” he remarked, coming to his door and unlocking the
office. “I seize opportunity, and... in short order, I think
that such opportunity shall exist to be had for me,” he smiled
brightly, flipping a light switch inside the room, lighting up the
neat, newly occupied office with its couch on one wall, then desk
with a chair before it. “After you.”
