Mr Masters (Mr. Book 1)

“W-what?” I whisper.

His eyes hold mine. “You heard me.”

He grabs the shampoo and begins to soap up his hair while I stare at him.

She killed herself.

He rinses the shampoo out of his hair and then looks down at me. “Shocked into silence?” he asks sarcastically. “Or just too horrified to speak.”

I raise my eyebrows and casually take the shampoo to wash my own hair.

I am shocked into silence and too horrified to speak.

Why didn’t Janine, our cook, tell me this? “Who knows about this?” I ask.

“My parents.”

“Who else?”

“Sebastian and Spencer. Nobody else. I’ve never told another woman before.”

I stare up at him, and I don’t know whether to be flattered or mortified that I’m the first one he told. What do I even say to this?

I narrow my eyes. “You’ve carried this secret around for five years?”

He nods, and the water runs over his face. His haunted eyes hold mine, like he’s expecting me to run. He really is broken. It’s as clear as day now.

I knew it. I knew something was hurting him. I picked it up weeks ago.

I cup his face in my hand. “Jules,” I whisper.

He drops his head and I reach up and kiss his lips tenderly. At this moment, he needs me. He needs my acceptance, and for whatever reason that is, I’m going to give it to him.

“It’s okay, baby,” I reassure him.

He drops his head to my shoulder and I hold him tight.

His arms are around me and I can just feel the sadness seeping out of him.

This is the first time he has let me see him completely vulnerable this way.

And he is more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s over now.”

His eyes are glazed, and he crashes his arms around me, burying his face deep in the curve of my neck.

How does it feel to finally tell someone a secret like that after you’ve kept it inside for so long?

We stand for a long time with our arms around each other, and I know for certain that I should be doing some psychobabble talk about suicide or something right now, but I have no idea where to even start.

I choose to remain silent instead.

He will tell me when he is ready, and I’ll wait for as long as it takes.

“You do know that I’m probably going to throw up all day,” I whisper.

I feel him smile against my neck. “Serves you right.”

I giggle against his shoulder. “I just wanted to have some spontaneous fun with you.” Everything is so planned with us and Emerson’s words about his inability to be spontaneous must have spurred me on.

He leans back, regaining his composure. He begins to wash my hair under the water, deep in thought.

“Mission accomplished.” He smirks. “I don’t even know where my car is. Is that spontaneous enough for you?”

I giggle up at him, and then we fall serious again. I push my fingers through his hair. “Thank you.”

He frowns.

“It means a lot that you told me.”

He purses his lips together, as if trying to stop himself from saying anything else, and I kiss him tenderly. “Just know, Jules, that I am always on your side.”

He pulls me closer and closer, and then I pull back.

“You should also know that if we have sex right now, I will throw up on you.”

He chuckles, leaning farther away from me. “That’s definitely not on my bucket list.”

He finishes washing my hair out and then he gets out of the shower and dries himself. He holds a towel out for me to step into, and he wraps me in it before he begins to dry me as carefully as he can. We kiss, and then again and again, and I smile against his lips. “You’re going to have to wait until tonight. We have a trashed house and kids to pick up.” I sigh.

“Golf.” He sighs. “I promised the kids I would take them to play golf.”

I giggle and say something that I know I’m going to regret. “That’s okay. I’ll come, too.”

I sit on the sofa with my eyes fixed on Julian. Unlike other days, I know his silence is heavy. He’s sitting and pretending to watch television, his mind a million miles away. He’s been quiet today, lost in his own thoughts, and I know that after he confided in me this morning he’s now going over it again in his head. The children are sprawled on the floor with their beloved baby animals.

Eventually, I stand. I’m exhausted and falling asleep here.

“Take Tillie out to the bathroom before she goes to bed, Sammy,” I tell him.

“Okay.” He runs outside with his puppy, and I smile as he disappears.

‘Bedtime, Will,’ Julian says.

“Yeah.” She bends and picks up her kitten, Maverick. “Goodnight,” she calls as she disappears up the stairs.

My eyes find Julian’s across the room, and the overwhelming need to kiss him goodnight fills me. “Goodnight,” I say.

He looks over at me. “Goodnight, Bree. I’ll be asleep before I hit the pillow tonight.”

“Okay.” I walk over to stand in front of him. “If I could kiss you goodnight, I would.”

He smiles up at me. “Same.”

Our eyes linger on each other, and this warm affection between us rolls in. I hate this. I hate that I can’t get a minute with him alone unless it’s at a hotel. Why can’t we just make love at home? Is it really going to make a difference?

“Thanks for wrecking me last night.” He smirks.

I grin and throw him a cheeky wink. “Any time.”

“See you tomorrow night?” he asks.

“Sure will.”

I walk to my room, shower, brush my teeth, and then I finally climb into bed. When I turn off the light and stare into the darkness, my mind begins to tick.

How must it feel to be him—to be left alone with his guilt?

His children’s mother… gone.

Never to return.

I toss and turn, rolling over and over, and I even end up punching my pillow. I keep seeing Julian’s haunted face when he told me his secret. I’m so overtired, I just want to sleep. I have no idea what time we went to sleep last night. I get a vision of Julian, naked, with my gold beads tied around his head this morning and I smile to myself. He looked so carefree and happy. I reach over to grab my phone and scroll through social media for a while, but still, my mind won’t switch off. Without thinking, I send a text to Julian.

Goodnight, my man.

My bed is cold without you.

Xx

I wait for a reply and it doesn’t come. He’s probably asleep already. I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I have this horrible, sad feeling deep inside of me, and I just don’t know how to shake it. I’m lost in so many thoughts when I feel my bed dip, and I turn suddenly to see Julian beside me.

“Hey,” he whispers.

I smile up at him, and he takes me in his arms, falling down beside me. Our lips touch and we kiss softly.

He’s here. He’s here in my bed.

Something changed between us in the shower this morning. His secret has somehow gotten under my defenses. Now I just want to make everything all right for him. “You okay?” I whisper as I hold him in my arms.

“Yeah, baby, I’m okay.” He kisses me.

We hold each other tight and my eyes fill with tears. He’s been through so much. We kiss again and again, and I just can’t get close enough to him. He sits up at once and peels my nightdress from my body, somehow removing his own clothes, too. Last night, us acting fun and crazy was all for him. Tonight, I feel his tenderness is for me.

He can tell I need it from him. Maybe he needs it from me, too.

He rises above me and he carefully rocks himself between my legs, kissing me as he does. My fingertips run up and down the muscles in his back then up through his hair, our eyes never straying from each other. ‘You’re perfect,’ he whispers.

I smile up at him and wrap him in my arms. We continue to get lost in our kisses, until he rises above me and slides deep inside my body.

We moan together and his breath quivers.

I love how his breath quivers when he’s on the verge of losing control.

He slowly pulls out and then goes deeper. Our lips are locked and our bodies take on their own rhythm.

Julian goes deeper and deeper, and my legs are open as wide as they go.

He’s so big. So fucking perfect.

In, out, around and around, he moves with perfect timing, and I cling to his shoulders.

“Jules,” I whimper, knowing I’m close.

He rises above me and starts to pump me deep, never taking his eyes off of mine. His hair falls over his forehead, and I smile up at him. He has the best sex face—completely focused on his task.

He lifts my leg up, puts it over his shoulder, and he really lets me have it.

Our skin slaps together as he takes over my body.

My mouth hangs open as I become lost in the pleasure.

He’s so deep.

Oh God. He’s so good.

“Fuck. Fuuuck,” he moans as he holds himself still, and I feel the jerk of his orgasm, and I know he’s come deep inside me.

It sets off my orgasm and I convulse as I cling to him with white-knuckle force. He takes my face in his hands and kisses me. It’s soft and tender, and he holds me close. I know this is supposed to be a booty call, but fuck, it’s not.

It’s so much more than that.

I can feel it.

He slowly moves to empty himself completely, but our lips never part.

“How did you get me to do that?” he whispers. “I’m dead tired.” He kisses me again. “You’re a bad influence on me, Miss Brielle.”

I giggle. “Excuse me, I was just lying here, minding my own business, when you accosted me in my bed.”

“You shouldn’t be so damn irresistible.” He chuckles as he pulls out of my body and rolls off me. He brings me closer and I kiss his chest, enjoying the feel of his smile against my forehead. I can feel and hear his heart beating hard in his chest.

We stay that way for a few moments as we come down from our high.

“It’s Monday tomorrow.” I sigh sleepily.

“Don’t remind me.”

I glance up at him. “What’s it like being a judge?”

He scowls softly. “Serious.”

I smile. “Would I make a good judge?”

He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “You would be a terrible judge.”

“Hey! I can be serious, you know.”

He rolls his eyes. “No, you can’t. Just admit it.” He thinks for a moment and then smiles. “Don’t change a thing, though. You’re perfect as you are.”

I half sit up and my mouth falls open. “Are you admitting that you like my dizziness, Judge Masters?”

His eyebrow rises. “Perhaps.” He pulls me down to kiss him again. “Don’t tell anyone.”

I fall back down beside him. “Well, nobody knows about us anyway, so it will remain a secret.”

We remain silent for a while.

“Big weekend, huh?” I smile.

“Hmm.”

“How long has it been since you just let loose like you did last night?”

He shrugs, frowns, and pulls me over his body again.

I wait for him to answer with my head on his chest.

“I was twenty-two when I met Alina.”

What?

“She was at the same university as me and I’d seen her around. She was pretty.”

I smile imagining him younger.

“We hooked up one night after going to a nightclub.”

God, he would have been a good-looking twenty-two-year-old. He’s insanely hot now at thirty-nine.

“We slept together again a few weeks later after another night out. I didn’t see her again until she turned up at my dorm room three months later. She was pregnant.”

My heart drops.

He licks his bottom lip as he stares into space.

“What happened?” I ask.

“I did the right thing.”

My stomach twists. “You married her?”

He nods softly with his bottom lip caught in his front teeth, and I wait for him to keep going but he doesn’t.

“Did it go okay?” I whisper softly.

He shrugs. “I tried. I tried every damn day to fall in love with her.”

My eyes fill with tears.

“Twenty-three with a wife and a baby,” he mutters softly.

I kiss his chest and rub my cheek on his skin. I hate this story because I already know how it ends.

“It wasn’t so bad at first. We both put a front on for the sake of the other. Until she fell in love with me, but I didn’t fall in love with her…” His voice trails off.

A tear falls free, and I quickly swipe it away.

Stop it.

He clenches his jaw and I know he’s right back there, all those years ago. “I couldn’t even force myself to make love to her.”

Oh, this is a horrible story. “Jules,” I whisper, and he wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer.

“Samuel was conceived when I came home drunk one night. That’s the only time it would happen.”

I close my eyes.

“Then… she started drinking.”

God.

“It got so bad that I had to have a full-time nanny to care for the children even while she was home.” He stares into space. “Some days, she never got out of bed.”

Oh, this poor woman.

“I tried, I tried to get her help. I just didn’t do enough.”

My chest hurts for both of them.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. I told her before I left for work one morning that I was filing divorce papers that day.”

I scrunch my eyes shut as I wait for the next part of the story.

“She said goodbye to the children.”

A lone tear rolls down my face onto his chest.

“And she drove drunk down a dead-end street at around 130 miles an hour, straight into a tree.”

The lump in my throat hurts as I try to hold my tears back.

He stares straight ahead, almost frozen.

“Do the children know?” I whisper.

“No. How could you ever tell your child that their mother killed herself because their father didn’t love her.”

I sniff as the tears roll down my face. “I’m so sorry.”

He kisses my temple. “Me, too”.