Masquerade Read Free

on.” I nod toward the building and start walking.
    “Why here?” she asks.
    “You’re the one who said a hotel.”
    “And you just happened to know the perfect place close by.”
    I shrug, not willing to sugarcoat anything for her. “Anonymous works for me. If that’s not what you want, say so right now.”
    “I wouldn’t have said a hotel in the first place if it wasn’t what I needed.”
    I don’t call her on the use of the word
need
instead of
want
. Not my business.
    Gripping the handle, I pull open the glass door and signal for her to go inside. She walks right up to the counter, with me behind her. Less than three minutes later, we’re using a key to open the door to room 57. As soon as we’re inside, I hit the lights.
    “Condoms?” she asks.
    “Obviously.”
    “You don’t have to be a jerk. I just wanted to see if you had them or if I needed to grab mine.” Bee tosses her purse onto the chair.
    For some reason, the side of my mouth almost tilts up into a half-smile. This girl doesn’t fuck around and I like that.
    Pulling my wallet out, I grab a foil package from inside and toss it on the bed. Bee stands there, a little flicker of something I can’t read in her eyes. My mind stumbles on it, making me pause.
    “We doing this or not?” she asks.
    The words are what I need to keep me on track. “Oh yeah. We’re doing this.” These are the nights that are only about me—well, and whoever I’m with, but I don’t let any of the shit from my life bleed in.
    Bee grins and a mixture of need and maybe a little bit of what almost looks like selfishness and then she’s on me.
    Her lips come down hard on mine, my hand cups her ass. I pull her against me, push down the back of her pants, and slightly lift her off the ground. The curve of her ass fits perfectly in my hand, but it’s not enough. I need more.
    Jerking away, I grab the bottom of her shirt and pull it over her head, giving me a better view of the tats on her shoulders.
    She’s breathing hard, her chest heaving. My hand moves toward her, my finger tracing the edge of her bra as I study her—the ring in her belly button, the edges of what I think are more stars going up her side, close to her back.
    I’ve never been with a woman with so many tats. She’s not covered in them, but enough decorate her skin. I get the closest I ever come to any kind of pillow talk when I grit out, “Fuck, you’re hot.”
    “You don’t have to sweet-talk me. I’m already here.”
    “I don’t sweet-talk.”
    “You next or what?” She quirks a brow at me and damned if I don’t almost smile again. Before I get the chance, her hands are on me, shoving my shirt up. They stop on my chest and I help her by pulling off the material covering me.
    I don’t have as much ink as her. I can see her looking at the few pieces I have and it’s like she’s dissecting them.
    This strange sort of fear spikes inside me because of the way her eyes are eating me up. Yeah it’s only sexual, but I need to make sure it stays that way.
    “We have way too many clothes on.” I push the button on my pants through the hole, unzip, and kick out of them.
    Bee’s crawling onto the bed and I’m right behind her. “These have to go.” I get rid of her pants just as quickly, getting a brief look at a sunflower on her calf as she lies beneath me in nothing but a purple pair of panties and a bra. She’s sexy as hell, all that creamy skin with bursts of colorful artwork.
    Her nails are painted black, I notice, as she pushes my boxer-briefs down, my erection springing free.
    Her hand wraps around me and I groan, trying to focus enough to get her panties down. When I do, she slips free of them.
    She’s stroking as I push the cups of her bra down so her breasts spill over.
    “This is going to be over before it starts if you don’t stop with that,” I tell her.
    Bee lets go, for the first time letting out a real laugh that turns into a loud moan when I drop my mouth to one