She’d never told me what it was, but it was delicious.
She went over to the fridge and grabbed some of the cookies she’d frosted earlier and put in the freezer so the frosting would set faster. “I think the frosting is hard enough now that they won’t melt all over the place.”
“Thanks, Syd,” Cade said, holding the plate.
“Any time.”
“What are you doing this weekend?” Cade asked, turning to me.
“Going to a party.”
He nodded, and started to open his mouth to ask a question when a chorus of giggles and yells erupted from the table, frosting and sprinkles flying. A full on frosting fight was in effect, and I wondered how long the boys had been contemplating it. It seemed like a well-planned attack. Syd and I got between them before too much destruction took place, but I’d taken some collateral damage to my face and arm.
I walked back over to Cade, who looked enormously amused at my disheveled state. “Unfortunately, I have to go,” he said, then leaned down his mouth right next to my ear, breath hot on my neck, “But I’d really like to lick that off of you.”
Heat shot through me from my head to my feet. “I’ll ask Syd to make us some frosting.”
He grinned, and I watched him walk out the door.
After the cookie situation and subsequent frosting comment from Cade, I was ready to go home and relax. Syd was spending the night at Jax’s—no surprise there, so I planned to make dinner and binge watch something on Netflix.
I got home and mixed a salad with spinach, walnuts, chicken, and a little feta for dinner. I topped it with strawberry flavored vinaigrette and some olive oil. I was an olive oil snob and only got it from a special store at the mall that imported it directly from Greece and Italy at certain times of the year to ensure proper freshness. The health benefits of olive oil were hard to pass up. I used it as a butter substitute in everything I cooked or baked, including treats. After eating Syd’s sugar cookies, I had to be careful about my dinner.
I sat down at the table and started scrolling through my phone notifications dismissing the ones I didn’t need to deal with, and saving the ones I did. One of the notifications was an update to Master Z’s page. He had a new blog post. I clicked over to read it.
Alpha Answers
Valentine’s Day can be the worst day of the year for a man, or the best. Not every woman wants flowers, jewelry and chocolates, though I have to admit I’ve never met a woman who wasn’t a fan of roses. The next go-to on the gift list often includes something lacy, but buying lingerie is not for couple amateurs…women are picky about their panties. Or, as we’ve learned from some, don’t wear them at all. This is a holiday where if you do things even minimally right, like making a dinner reservation and doing something to show you were thinking of her—be it flowers or even a card, you’re almost guaranteed an orgasm. Really, the holiday should be named Orgasm Day. Don’t risk getting this holiday wrong. Make sure you know your partner well enough to know what she likes. If you don’t know the answer to a question, ask. It’s far better to have a discussion about her expectations than to make her mad on the holiday that’s supposed to be celebrating your love. Whatever you’re doing this holiday, I hope you all get a happy ending.
He’d messaged me earlier in the week to say he was going to write about Valentine’s Day from a guy’s perspective. So I didn’t mind it as much as the previous times he’d flat out copied my blog post ideas and re-written them like a dude. I wondered what he was doing for the holiday, and if he was going to a party, too. I pressed my lips together, rifling through my mental calendar. There were a lot of Valentine’s Day parties, private and public. But only a few public parties were well-known, and well-attended. I wondered if we’d end up at the same one. If so, there was a real possibility we’d bump into each other. And if we did, there was a real possibility we wouldn’t even know it.
My phone buzzed.
You’re going to a Valentine’s Day party.
My stomach tightened at the communication from Master Z and my heart sped up as I replied.
I am.
So am I.
I paused, staring at my phone. The biggest party happening in Winchester was Sin and Sass. Based on some of his posts, as well as the speculation from readers, I knew we were both in Colorado, and I’d guessed he was local as well. But even if we came face-to-face, there was no way we’d know each other. Neither of us had any idea of what the other one looked like. Before I could respond, he sent another message.
I think we should meet.
My heart started pounding and my mouth felt like I’d chewed on sand. Anxiety coursed through me. Meet? In person? No way. I was not ready for that, and it would put everything I’d built at risk.
My identity is a secret. Your identity is too. Meeting would void that.
He wrote back.
It’s a masquerade. You can easily hide who you are with a wig and a mask.
So he was going to Sin and Sass! That was the only masquerade I knew of that weekend. I couldn’t argue with his logic either. Even before his suggestion, I’d planned on wearing a wig, and a mask that covered my entire face except my lips.
In all honestly, I was intensely curious about Master Z. A part of me wanted to meet him in person to see if he was everything he seemed to be on his blog, and everything I’d imagined. But another part of me worried that he was a fake—some idiot either super old or super young, using the blog and his correspondence with me as entertainment. I’d watched way too many episodes of Catfish to not suspect every single person I met online. I shook my head and typed back.
Too risky.
He responded immediately.
The best rewards come with risk.
That line of thinking sounded familiar. It was a common phrase, but still… I filed it away in my mind for further examination later. As for the meet-and-greet, I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.
I already announced that I’m going to a public party. There’s been a lot of speculation about whether we’re both living in Winchester. People will be looking for me, and probably you, at the various parties, trying to figure out who Mistress A and Master Z are.
But they’ll never know.
They might. We can’t.
I disagree.
That’s fine. But it still doesn’t mean I’m going to meet up with you.
I waited a full ten minutes. He didn’t respond. The silence was ominous. What if Master Z did find me? What then? Would I recognize him? Would he recognize me? And if so, would I want to explore something with him? I hadn’t had a male-assisted orgasm in a long time, and Master Z clearly knew his way around a clitoris. Cade’s promise to lick frosting off me flashed through my head and the guilt washed over me again. That bothered me. Guilt generally wasn’t involved with lust, so the fact that I was feeling it in regard to both guys made me worried I was already in over my head. Meeting Master Z would definitely be a bad idea.
I chewed on my lip, thinking through all of my options and finally coming to the conclusion that I had no control over the situation. The only thing I could control was myself, and I wasn’t going to miss out on the party because of guilt, or fear about possibly meeting Master Z. I already had my costume, and I was ready for a night of dancing, drinking and a little debauchery.
Tips and Tits: The Word from Mistress A
Smears and Tears
We’ve all been there. Lipstick and sexy times. It can get everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE. Especially, if you’re one of the people who enjoys giving or receiving a good blow job. If you’re a girl wearing any bright, vibrant color—say a festive shade of pink or red for Valentine’s Day—by the end of sexy times, you usually look like a sad little clown. Smears and tears. That’s what you’ll have. Lipstick is a messy business, but I’m here to make it slightly easier for you. I’ve discovered several brands of lipstick that I’m giving the Mistress A sex-proof guarantee. There are a few brands that work, none of which you can get at y
our local makeup store—they all require special ordering. Check my product page to see them. This stuff does not come off. You can do pretty much anything, and as long as you’re not rolling around in heavy duty makeup remover and then vigorously rubbing your face on a towel during your sex-sesh, the lipstick will stay on. Trust me when I say it’s been thoroughly tested. So before you go out to celebrate your night of romance, grab some lipstick that won’t smear. Your face, and your partner’s naughty bits, will thank you.
“You know everyone is talking about Mistress A and Master Z possibly being at the same party, right?”
Syd and I were both home, getting ready for our big Valentine’s Day dates. Her evening plans were with Jax; mine were with whoever I ran into at the Sin and Sass party and decided was hot. I’d locked my guilt away, and was totally fine with that—and a little curious about whether Master Z would show up. I wondered if I’d be able to figure out who he was.
I lifted a shoulder on a sigh. I did know people were talking, and there was nothing I could do about the speculation. “I’ve heard.”
“Sooooo…” Syd said, dragging out the word, “do you think they’re going to meet?”
I pursed my lips. “An offer was made.”
I helped her apply the lipstick. It was tricky and had to be put on a certain way to guarantee it would stay properly. I’d been using it for years so it wasn’t a problem for me, but it could be an issue for a novice, especially if they didn’t get it in the proper lip line. Getting it off once it was on was a bitch.
“So…” she prompted again. “What’s the story?”
I’d been sending Syd screen shots of some of my messages with Master Z, but hadn’t mentioned the most recent one about him wanting to get together. Thank Thor she knew about my secret now. I didn’t know how I’d functioned without having her as a sounding board. “He messaged me saying he thought we should meet at one of the parties in town tonight.”
Her brow winged up. “What did you say?”
“Hold still,” I said, trying to get the third coat on her lips. I finished applying it and stepped back, examining her from a few feet away. The color looked fantastic on her, like I knew it would. “I told him it was too risky and refused.”
“What did he say?” Her mouth was parted and she looked like a ventriloquist as she tried to speak with as little lip movement as possible while the lipstick dried.
“Nothing.” I put the cap back on the lipstick and stacked it next to the other makeup on the counter.
“Nothing?” she asked, her eyes getting bigger.
“Nope.”
“That’s ominous.”
I scrunched up my nose, unhappy about his lack of reaction, and slightly worried as well. “That’s what I thought.”
“What will you do if you run into him?”
I lifted a shoulder, completely at a loss. “There’s no way I can know if I do. There’s no way he can know if he runs into me either.”
Syd shook her head as I applied the sparkly gloss over the top of the bright red. “What if he’s somehow figured out who you are?”
It was unlikely, but anything was possible. “My only option to ensure we don’t accidentally meet is to not go. I’m not willing to live in fear like that. I still would have gone to the party if I hadn’t started the blog. I’m not going to alter my decisions just because I have an alter-ego. I’ve been careful. I didn’t tell readers what party I’d be at, and there are plenty around Winchester. I’m not worried.” My answer reminded me of Cade’s opinion on fear, and I realized we were similar that way. Yet another thing we had in common.
I put the finishing touches on Syd’s lips and handed her the mirror. I hadn’t let her see herself until now. Her blonde curls were tousled and sexy, perfect Hustler hair. Her eye makeup was light, but still highlighted her pretty lashes and big eyes. The contouring on her cheeks was perfect, and her lips looked glorious. If the lawyer thing didn’t work out for her, she could definitely be a lip model. I couldn’t believe she’d shied away from wearing bright colors before. She was more confident than that, and needed to take risks.
She looked in the mirror and her mouth formed a surprised ‘O’. She moved her head from side-to-side, testing the different angles. She glanced up at me. “I really didn’t think I could pull it off.”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t just pull it off. You own it. And Jax is gonna freak!”
She grinned. “I hope so.”
“He will.”
She ran her hands through her hair, shaking out the curls to give them more volume as she said, “Cade texted me earlier with a case question. It was just an excuse for him to ask what you were doing tonight.”
My mouth fell open. “He gets information about me from you a lot.”
“Because he sees me more, and he knows I want you two to get together, so I’m inclined to try and facilitate that.”
I narrowed my eyes, annoyed. “There’s no facilitating necessary. I also want us to hook up. He’s the one cock-blocking himself.”
“I want you to have more than just a hook up with him, and you know it. So does he.”
“And you’re well aware of my position on that.”
She gave a long-suffering sigh. “Remember that verbal smack down you gave me about needing to stop worrying so much about school and that I’d regret not having meaningful romantic relationships at this age?”
I nodded, knowing where she was going with this.
She pointed at me. “You need to take your own advice.”
“That advice was specific to you, because I know you. Personally, I feel like I’d only have regrets if I did have a relationship. “
Her expression was knowing as she said, “Someday you’ll change your mind. And in case you were wondering, Cade is staying home tonight.”
“Good to know.” A feeling of relief flooding over me that he wasn’t going to be out on a date screwing some girl who wasn’t me. I immediately checked myself. We weren’t in a relationship, and I was going out tonight with the express purpose of hanging out with hot guys and possibly hooking up. I had no right to feel relief over Cade’s lack of romantic partner tonight. The fact I had felt it made me concerned all over again.
She closed her eyes and spritzed some rosewater over her face to set her foundation and give her a pretty glow. When she opened them, she met my reflection in the mirror. “So when you get bored of the asshat boys at the party who are drinking too much and looking for an excuse to get laid, you’ll know where Cade is.”
“Thanks for your concern.”
She gave a wide smile as she stood. “You’re welcome. I’m going to go change, but thanks for the lipstick.”
“Jax is going to love it.”
She grinned. “I know. Have fun tonight, and be careful.”
“I will.”
I put my dress on the bed, and got ready to be sinful and sassy.
The bass was pounding when I arrived, just like I liked it. I was wearing a two-piece scarlet dress that shimmered in the strobing pink, red, and white lights of the room. The top was a shirt made of almost sheer organza. It ended right about my belly button, showing about three inches of my stomach. The bottom skirt was crimson satin and flared out, stopping high on my thigh. I’d worn a lacy thong just in case, but I’d still have to be careful bending over or I’d flash everyone.
I’d put on a long, platinum blond, stick-straight wig to cover my own dark brown hair, and I was wearing a black mask covered in red and silver sequins and pearls. The mask covered my entire face except for my lips, lower cheeks, and chin.
The bar reeked of alcohol, drug store perfume, and sweat. The room was packed full of people who had used the event as an excuse to get dressed up in various costumes. Some were in sexy dresses. Some were in straight lingerie. I did lingerie a lot, and felt like I needed to be a little less noticeable tonight. Master Z’s suggestion that we meet had me on edge. Every guy on the dance floor could potentially be him.
> I scanned the floor and saw a plethora of couples gyrating…whether they’d come here as a couple, or had partnered up once they got here, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t think Sin and Sass was a place I’d choose to spend a romantic holiday with my partner, though. I’d probably opt for a candlelight dinner followed by hours of sex. I narrowed my eyes thinking that scenario wasn’t much different from the one I hoped for tonight, only without the dinner and romance, and just the sex…provided I could put both Cade and Master Z out of my mind and simply enjoy myself. That was the challenge.
I walked onto the dance floor, and lost myself in the music, all other thoughts out of my head. Before long, a body was pressed against mine. I moved with him for a minute before I turned around. He was wearing black linen pants and a black dress shirt with the top four buttons open, probably to cool him off—and he definitely needed cooling. Good hell, he was probably Zeus’s bad-boy prototype. He was tall, his shoulders broad, chest wide and all of that tapered down to a narrow waist. His hair was dark, almost black, and a flat black mask covered his entire face, except for his lips…which were full, and extraordinarily kissable.
We moved together to the beat, his hands going over my waist, and down my hips. There was an undeniable connection there and I wasn’t opposed to seeing where it went—if he was interested as well. The song ended and I moved off the dance floor, deliberately not checking behind me to see if he’d followed.
I made my way to a couch near the bar and ordered my favorite sweet drink, liquid marijuana, and a glass of water.
The guy who’d been dancing with me sat beside me. “That sounds like a dangerous drink,” he said. His voice was difficult to hear over the sound of the music, but I could tell it was deep, and I felt it straight in my core.
I crossed my legs and pressed them together before answering, “The sweet ones usually are.”
His full lips curved roguishly. “So you like things sweet?”
I eyed him. “Depends on the situation.”
Chasing Brynn (A Tempting Novel Book 2) Page 15