Unmasking Love: A Holiday for Romance

by Peggy Bird

  Amber was his last hope, but when he looked for her after he thought he’d given her enough time to find a name, she and Fred seemed to have left. Not a surprise. Not from the way they’d been unable to keep their hands off each other on the way to the party and the way they’d kept to themselves once they’d gotten there. If he had to guess, he’d say they were probably on their way back to Fred’s house now.

  Then he realized Kevin and the fortuneteller were also among the missing, leaving Trace alone at the party less than an hour after they’d arrived. He’d given in to his friends’ pressure to come to the damn party, and they’d ditched him as soon as they’d had one beer and, in Kev’s case, picked up a willing woman.

  All his fond memories of his buddies disappeared. Now they pissed him off. Especially since they hadn’t helped him figure out where his fantasy Juliet had gone.

  One more pass through the crowd, and he’d leave, too. He started toward the dining room but immediately felt like a salmon swimming upstream as he bucked the mass of people who were suddenly all moving toward the door. He hadn’t a hope in hell of getting to the other rooms to look for his Juliet, not in this wave of people, which was growing bigger by the second. He saw no familiar black braid in the crowd, so he gave up his efforts and went with, rather than against, the current of people streaming out of the house, the festivities apparently now over.

  The party, as he came to understand from the chatter of the guests around him, had been a prelude to a big parade headed their way along Siskiyou Boulevard. They were all winding up their evening either as the event’s spectators or participants.

  He reached the parade route and then stood for five minutes or so, trying to decide what to do. His friends had dumped him, the woman he’d wanted to connect with had disappeared, and the only way to find any of them was to search through a crowd of masked and costumed strangers. Easy, right?

  Then he saw his buddies and their women across the street, making their way through the crowd to the curb. Fred seemed to know the people sitting there. Maybe they’d been saving a place for him. Trace waved, but neither man seemed to see him. Probably because once they settled in place, they looked more interested in the women they were with than anything else. If he could have reached the two couples, he would have told them to get a room.

  A room. There was a good idea. Enough looking for Ms. Right—or, more accurately, Ms. Right Now. She was probably only some Halloween fantasy anyway. He’d been fooled by a party of strangers in elaborate costumes into thinking there was something special about the night. There was nothing special going on. It had just been a house full of people having a good time.

  He had a room. And it wasn’t far away. It had a shower and a bed and a place to ditch the damn costume. Now was his chance to escape and get the early night in bed he needed. He pushed his way through the crowd, apologizing every two feet or so for stepping on or in front of someone, determined to get to his motel before the parade was in full swing. He didn’t have much time. The first marchers were already in front of him, the main body of the parade approaching the corner where he was standing.

  He was looking around, trying to scope out the best time to make a run for it, when he saw his fantasy Juliet coming from the direction of the house where the party had been. She was alone and must have been among the last to leave.

  Anonymous in the group of spectators, he watched her move to the edge of the crowd and stop under a streetlight, speaking to no one. She seemed as disconnected from everyone as he was. Maybe she was a stranger in town, too.

  After a few moments of observing, when he was sure she was really by herself, he retraced his steps through the crowd, apologizing to the same people for the same reasons. Circling around so he approached her from behind, he walked carefully toward her, hoping she was unaware of him. When he was close to her, he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest. “Juliet?” he whispered.

  “Yes, what …?” She tried to twist in his arms, but he held her so she couldn’t do more than turn her head. When she saw him, she stopped without finishing her sentence. He could feel her breathing begin to accelerate, felt her relax against him, and heard her gulp before asking, “How do you know me? Who are you?”

  Without thinking, he said, “Don’t you recognize Romeo?”

  “No, I mean who are you really?” She tried again to face him, but he didn’t want to give up the feel of her perfect tush against his erection, which had come to life again as soon as he’d smelled her perfume. He could feel, more than hear, her soft sigh as she nestled her head back against his shoulder. “I saw you at the party,” she said, “but you left before I had a chance to find out who you are.”

  The soft underside of her breasts pressed against his arms as he tightened them around her. It was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. Was she completely naked under the nightgown? Dear God, the thought made him even harder than he had been.

  He pushed the lace at the neckline of her costume aside, intending to kiss her shoulder. What he found surprised him—a small dragonfly was tattooed at the place where her lovely neck curved into her shoulder. He gently nipped at it, then licked the spot before saying, “Does it matter who I am other than your Romeo?”

  He had no idea where his boldness was coming from. Maybe it was the anonymity of the mask or the costume. Or being in a strange town on a night full of magical feelings. Maybe it was remembering what it had been like hanging out with Kev and Fred in college. Whatever it was, all he knew was he was willing to do whatever it took to have this woman who had roused such desire in him.

  “No,” she whispered as he continued to kiss her neck and shoulder. “It doesn’t matter at all.”

  Chapter 5

  Julie trembled at the words the mysterious man from her party whispered as he pressed his erection against her bottom. Heat from his hands seemed to burn through the thin material of her costume, making the chilly night air warm almost to tropical temperatures. And when he began to nibble the back of her neck, nipping, licking, sucking at the place where her nightgown bared some of her shoulder, it got even hotter.

  She should ask him to stop. But apparently the sensible part of her had been tapped out resisting her inclination to walk across the room to him when he’d smiled at her. All that was left was the other part of her, the one that wanted him to keep going. The smell of his aftershave, his soap, something, along with the soft whisper of his voice and the feel of his arms around her, filled her senses, made her forget where she was, who she was.

  She had to take control of this. Somehow. Maybe if she knew who he was under that mask. She asked, “How do you know who I am when I don’t know who you are?”

  “I know you’re Juliet and I’m Romeo. What else matters tonight?”

  Could he really not know her? Did he really think she was the Juliet of her costume, as he was the Romeo of his? He didn’t look or sound familiar, although she couldn’t really see much because of his mask. And he hadn’t done more than whisper. Should she really believe he was a stranger in town who had been as attracted to her as she was to him from only a look across her living room?

  Quietly, for her ears only, he began to recite, “But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.”

  She whispered back without thinking, “O, Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo?”

  “I’m right here, beautiful.” After one final kiss on her neck, he slid his hand down her arm, laced his fingers through hers, and motioned her to follow him.

  Giving up any chance of finding out more, and without any thought of refusing, she did.

  It wasn’t until they were running across the street through the thick of the parade now in full swing that her doubts surfaced again. What the hell was she doing following an unknown man away from her house in the direction of either
the Safeway or the Stratford Inn. She almost snorted at the idea he was taking her to the Safeway. Right. A man who’d pick up a masked stranger on the street was the kind of guy who’d want to get a few things to take back to the party for after the parade.

  He said nothing more as they zigzagged their way through the crowd on the other side of the street and approached the motel. She should let go of his hand and return home. She didn’t do things like this. Hell, even Greer had never done anything this outrageous. But the night—this man—had exerted some sort of magnetic pull on her. It had been a long time since she’d felt so mesmerized by a man. She tried to blame it on her year of enforced celibacy, but couldn’t. This attraction was stronger than anything she could ever remember feeling.

  No, “attraction” wasn’t the right word. Need. Desire. Hunger. Thirst. Longing. She needed a thesaurus, because even those words were inadequate. It was such a powerful pull she couldn’t—didn’t want to—resist.

  All she could do was follow him. All she wanted to do was follow him. She could tell herself it was because he didn’t seem like someone who took no for an answer. But she knew the reason had nothing to do with him. It was all on her. She didn’t want to say no. All she wanted was to get rid of the ache in her body she’d felt ever since they’d locked eyes across her living room.

  Even though both she and the stranger were masked, Julie was grateful the man who was usually at the registration desk—a man she probably saw around town—was at the window looking out at what was going on in the street. He paid no attention to the two of them sweeping in and almost running down the hall. Romeo’s room wasn’t far away, thank God. One swipe of the key card, and they were in.

  When he didn’t reach for the light switch, she said, “Aren’t you going to turn on the lights?”

  “No,” he replied, running the back of his hand over her cheek.

  “How do you expect us to see in the dark?”

  “There’s enough light from the window, and I have great night vision. Don’t you?”

  “Not really.” She started to remove her mask and he stopped her again.

  “Keep the mask on.” He threw the velvet cap onto the nearest bed. “We’re going to do this my way—no lights, masks on.” He reached for her. “And costume off. Now.” He began to bunch up her nightgown, his hands caressing her hips as he did.

  Julie had always been in charge of her own sexual satisfaction. She asked for what she wanted, made sure she got it, and, if she didn’t, took care of things herself. Following orders was not how she operated. Then again, what about this night was how she operated?

  If only she could see his face, read his expression. But when she reached for his mask, he grabbed her by the wrists. “Maybe I should remove temptation for a bit.” He spun her around, so her back was to his front. “That should do it. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, the nightgown.”

  This time he didn’t linger. He simply pulled her costume up and over her head and dropped it on the floor. Naked now except for a white silky thong and white ballet slippers, she resisted the impulse to cover her breasts with her hands. Somehow she knew he would tell her not to do that either. Holding her tight against him with one arm, his other hand wandered at will over her body. As his hand massaged her taut, pebbly nipples, surges of desire washed over her. He pulled at her nipples, now hard as stone yet sensitive to his touch, aching to be stroked.

  “Jesus, Juliet, I don’t need light to feel how soft your skin is, how beautiful your breasts are.” His hand continued down her body, trailing heat over her belly, stopping at the line of her pubic hair. She moaned and tilted her hips up, urging him to continue, to end the torment and help her find release.

  Instead he turned his attention to her neck, sucking, licking behind her ear in a place she didn’t know could be so responsive.

  “Please,” she whispered, knowing how desperate she must sound, her voice raspy with want. “Please.”

  He ignored her and continued kissing down her neck to her spine, holding her by the hips as he progressed to her bottom, nipping at the flesh, then to her thighs. When he reached the back of her knees he lingered for a few kisses then retraced his path back to her neck. “You taste good every place.” His voice was as harsh and full of desire as hers.

  By this time he didn’t have to hold her against him. She needed to lean on his chest to stay upright. He was now free to use both hands, and he did, turning her around, crushing her against him in a kiss that was just this side of rough. His stubble scratched against her face, a feeling she wanted in other places on her body. In every place on her body.

  He dropped to his knees before her, his hands cupping her breasts. Then his mouth found one nipple, and he licked, suckled, nipped, and scraped his teeth over the now hypersensitive skin. All of her senses were focused on one connection between them. Nothing else existed except his mouth on her. She held his head close to her body as he went from one breast to another, fueling the desire he’d aroused with his words on the street and his smile in her house.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t bear any further arousal, he made it even more intense by slowly, very slowly making his way down her body with hot, wet, needy kisses.

  And then he was there, where the ache had been since he’d smiled at her in her living room. The ache she needed relieved soon. His tongue slicked over her sex, as his fingers parted the lips and found the nub of her clitoris. He circled it with increasing speed, and she splintered into shards of light.

  She didn’t know how or when it had happened, but he was standing, holding her, pressing his erection against her, kissing her hair. “I don’t think I can stand up anymore,” she said.

  “I know how to fix that,” he replied, and with one quick motion, pulled down the bed linens and lowered her onto the bed. When he’d removed her ballet flats and slipped the thong down over her legs, he began to undress himself. Without taking his eyes off her, he shed the doublet, toed off his shoes, and removed the tights. She gasped when she saw his erection. “Thought you couldn’t see in the dark,” he said.

  “That’s hard to miss.” She sat up on the edge of the bed facing him and tried again for his mask. “Finish undressing. Let me see your face.”

  His response was the same—he gripped her wrists, tighter this time. “No, tonight is for Romeo and Juliet. Only for them.” He stood, getting his face out of range of her hands. “If you want something to do with your hands, here.” He wrapped one of her hands with his, guided their joined hands to his erection, and began to rub.

  She looked up at him, her breathing now ratcheting up again. Saying, “I have a better idea,” she shook off his hand and, continuing to massage him, began to slowly lick and suck him. First the velvety tip, then the steely shaft, then the tip again.

  He groaned. “Oh, Jesus, Juliet. What are you …?” He didn’t finish the sentence. His hands held her head and his hips began to move in rhythm with her mouth and hands.

  She stopped when she began to sense he was on the edge of exploding and asked, “Do you have protection?”

  For some reason he responded with a harsh laugh. “Yeah, a friend … never mind. On the bedside table. Over there.”

  • • •

  While she looked for the condom, he slid into bed with her. Somehow, she’d turned his seduction of her into something he could barely control. He wasn’t sure if he loved it or hated it. He was sure she was amazing. That he loved.

  She turned back to him, and he took the condom from her, tucking it under the sheets. When he pulled her close, he could feel her heartbeat pounding under his hand, feel his own heart doing the same. She moaned and clutched at his head as he went back to kissing her breasts, using his mouth and teeth to take his pleasure, to give her pleasure, his hands molding and massaging her. He tugged at the end of her braid to bring her head back, so he could kiss her neck, her mouth, her ears. She shook her head and made a sound as if it hurt, so he let it go.

  Angling her head with h
is hand so he had the access he needed without the masks interfering, he made the connection he wanted. Again he explored every bit of her mouth, from the graceful bow of her top lip to the lush pad of her lower one and into the corners where they met. What he had intended as a slow slide over the velvet of her tongue became a deep, hot kiss that spiraled out of his control, threatening to consume him, consume them both, from the heat of their joined mouths. As he was stealing the breath from her lungs, she was stealing the judgment from his mind until there was not enough of it or of anything else in the universe to keep him from pushing them to the next level.

  Her legs parted, and he knelt between them, over her, supporting himself on his hands.

  “Please,” she pleaded. “Please.” As if she feared he might misunderstand, she tilted her hips back to show him what she meant.

  He didn’t need directions.

  • • •

  This was not real; this was a fantasy with a mysterious lover in someplace imaginary. Passionate sex with a man who seemed to know her body as well as she did, who took what he wanted from her at the same time he made her come harder and faster than she ever had before. And he wasn’t finished. At least she hoped he wasn’t. She needed more. Wanted him inside her so she could have another earth-shattering release.

  When he kissed her again, his mouth was hot and hard as he pressed it to her, their tongues slipping and sliding in a frantic rhythm, a rhythm she wanted repeated someplace else. Tilting her hips, she tried to move so the tip of his penis was at her sex.

  “You want me, don’t you?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer but only wriggled her hips again.

  “Tell me you want me inside you.”

  This wasn’t a game she wanted to lose so she said, “You know I do.”

  “I want to be there. But first, I want you to come again, while I’m watching.” He began to kiss her mouth. “Can you come from this?” Then, sliding his mouth down her face, he kissed her jaw, licked the outer edge of her ear and then blew softly on it.