Wicked Masquerade

by Diana Rose Wilson

  Should she have stayed? Could she have remained? She curled into the side of the door, drinking some juice in hopes that hydration might ease her back to reality. It wasn’t as though Cupid would give his true name. They’d had the weekend, and that had to be enough for her. Tomorrow she would return to work, and the day after that. Step by step, she would forget the fantasy of the past days. In the real world, she was not a jockey of a fine prized pony-boy whom so many powerful Mistresses craved. She was a bookstore clerk.

  She pulled the hood over her head and affixed the mask to her face before allowing the aide to help her out of the limo. She mumbled her thanks and dashed up the steps to her apartment. Once in the door, she leaned against it, looking around the tiny studio. When had it become so small and cramped and ugly? She pulled off her mask and laid it on the desk that also served as a dining room table and pulled the cloak off her shoulders. By now, the others would be meeting for breakfast and would be having their games in the garden.

  It was better that she’d left early. She’d said her goodbyes last night as best she could.

  She tossed the cloak onto the table, using it to cover the lovely mask. She didn’t want to see the reminder of Cupid anywhere. How long would it be before she forgot him? Would she be able to turn off that part of her and move on? That’s what people did. Right? Her muscles felt sore from her adventures, thrumming with the memory of sex. Really good sex. Lots of it. More in one weekend than she’d enjoyed in her whole life.

  Her phone lay on her bed where she’d left it Friday night. It chirped at her and she frowned, twisting around, enjoying the sweet ache in her limbs as she strode across the tiny space to grab it. Marcie’s name and number lit up the screen and she felt a dark tickling in the pit of her stomach. Surely Marcie wouldn’t be upset with her for leaving. She hesitated and then answered the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Ursa, dear. How are you?” She sounded so concerned, as though she expected something to be wrong.

  “Doing just fine, thanks. How are you?”

  “You sure you’re all right? Nothing happened, did it? I mean, you didn’t depart under duress?”

  “No. Of course not. I had a great time. Everything was great.” She winced at the double use of the word great and heard Marcie sigh quietly.

  “So great that you left at daybreak?” A pause and then an additional quiet sigh. “I’m not going to press, of course, but a little birdie told me they were disappointed you left so suddenly. I couldn’t exactly give out details about you of course, so…I didn’t.”

  “Marcie…” She didn’t know what to say. Her heart squeezed inside her ribs and her eyes stung with a wave of resulting emotion. “It was just a weekend.” Wasn’t it?

  Marcie was quiet a long while. Ursa could hear her fingernails tapping along the side of the phone, or maybe the desk. “Ursa…sometimes it’s more than just a weekend.”

  “How can it be? I’m a faceless woman…just a body in a mask.”

  “Well, let me just say that it started out for me like that once. Look what it has become.”

  “I don’t want a relationship where I only see someone once a month on a single weekend to pretend I’m—” She sighed quietly. “I don’t even know what I am, to be honest.”

  “From what I saw and heard, you’re a diva with the crop.”

  “Marcie!” She felt her cheeks warm but couldn’t help but smile with pride and pleasure at the memory.

  “I’m not pressing, darling. I respect that this lifestyle isn’t for everyone. Remember when we first met at the bookstore? You were very helpful providing the books for me during a rough time. I learned how to ask for what I needed and reject what I didn’t. I have seen you grow into your confidence, too. I think you are interested in this. That it’s more than purely theoretical. Some people don’t do this only at the House. Yes, our monthly events can be an outlet for play, but deeper relationships form.”

  “How?” she asked, feeling her breath catch. “I mean…how does one go from being a masked stranger in a kinky sex game to someone who is real? I don’t know how to make that leap. I don’t know if I should. I’m a bookstore clerk. I don’t have fancy clothes or a house or…anything.”

  “You have a heart and a sharp mind, Ursa. And a sexy little body. Some things are more important than wealth.”

  “I don’t know,” she murmured, feeling the ache of pain in her chest.

  “Well, will you accept the November invitation? It will be in the Tahoe House and hopefully snow by then.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s not a no. I’ll take it. And you’re all right? Is it fair that I tell a particular pony that you made it home safe?”

  “Are you going to tell me who he is?”

  “I can’t provide that information right now. He hasn’t given me the okay to share that. I won’t tell him who you are either, unless you tell me I can.”

  Ursa bit into her lower lip and couldn’t speak for a moment, her chest too tight, her heart too heavy.

  “I get it,” she murmured, feeling shattered but also knowing that was how it needed to be. She couldn’t be so lucky. “Sure. Tell him I’m fine. If he cares. I’m… I’m going to go shower and sleep, Marcie. Thank you for checking up on me.”

  Marcie let out a breath. “All right, Ursa. I’ll talk with you tomorrow, then. Have a good day, my friend.”

  Even after the shower and a nap, Ursa didn’t feel back to her normal self. She felt both deflated and energized. She dressed and went for a walk, hoping she could shake the sensation. She tried keeping her mind off Cupid and what she’d done and what she wanted but couldn’t have. Could she actually attend another event and pick another lover and do the same thing and not think about Cupid? She didn’t even know his name and had never seen his face, and yet she knew exactly how he looked in pleasure and in pain. She knew him better in the short time she’d been with him than she knew anyone.

  And if they were at another party and he wore another woman’s token? Would she be as mad as Stag and want to really hurt him rather than just enough for the pleasure it would bring them both? No answers came, regardless of how fast or far she walked. At last she returned to her meager apartment. Maybe the lifestyle was too complicated for her.

  No, normal life was not complicated enough. Her old world felt too small around her.

  Chapter 6

  Monday, Nov 2, 2015

  Monday came too soon. A blur of daily routine found her at the stacks, organizing pet books, lost in the equestrian books. It seemed like cruel and unusual punishment to have the constant reminder. Each book tucked into its spot made her think of the pretty harnesses she’d get for her pony-boy. If such a creature was hers for the keeping.

  “Did you see him come in?” Vans, her oldest friend in the shop, asked in a hiss, slipping in close to grab her arm, pulling her down the aisle. “You have got to see this.”

  Ursa sighed quietly, not up for a game right then, but her coworker had been trying for the past year to get her hooked up with someone. It wasn’t as though she could admit what happened over the weekend except for saying, “Too much rum at a costume party” to explain why she had acted so blue.

  “You don’t often see a man like this out in nature. At least not here. You have to see.” They came around the corner of the self-help books and spotted the huge man in a suit, arms crossed over his broad chest as he glared at the books as though they had just insulted his mother.

  From the designer shoes polished to a shine to the sleek black curls, the man was a vision of elegance and wealth. She couldn’t even fathom the expense of the tailored gray fabric hugging his vast shoulders. Her stomach lurched at the familiar set of his posture, the stillness of his body. His profile was just the same—proud and strong, square jaw thrust forward and skin a dark contrast to the color of his pale suit. The dark eyes seemed oddly haunted as he scanned the titles.

  She’d recognize him if she were blin
d. She felt her mouth go dry and knew she was staring, felt her eyes sting with the threat of tears. Cupid. Her Cupid in civilian clothes, even hotter than his whole body bared to her. Even lacking his wings, whatever he’d done to conceal them, she knew him in her bones! She could feel his skin on her lips, silken smooth and hot.

  “You should help him. He looks like he’s not finding what he needs.” Vans snickered and her honey-brown eyes gleamed in delight as she gave Ursa a push. Vans loved seeing her fumble and titter in front of a good-looking man, and this intimidating man, looking at books about human sexuality, was the sort of thing to send Ursa into a tailspin.

  Before the past weekend at any rate.

  The push sent Ursa sprawling into view at the end of the row, her feet clattering loudly and Vans’s snicker flickering up behind her. The man turned haughtily at the disturbance, black eyes looking down his broad nose before he focused down at her and blinked hard.

  She straightened and moved a hand to her neck as though she were adjusting a lapel that wasn’t there. “May I help you find something, sir?” she asked without her Ursa-stammer and that shut Vans up.

  He stared at her, shock and puzzlement warring over his handsome features. His curls were neatly styled rather than the sweaty mess she remembered seeing last, when they were fanned over her bare breast. Schooling his expression, he appeared wary as the shock dissipated and his posture coiled like a spring. The expensive suit, tie and polished shoes didn’t offer as much protection as the simple mask had, though he’d been nearly naked all weekend. Now he seemed even more exposed and vulnerable. She felt a pang in her chest as her desire to protect him bubbled up.

  “I’m just browsing,” he said at last, when she’d cleared her throat to remind him that he was staring at her.

  The rumble of his voice made her belly tighten all the way down to her sex. She struggled not to allow it onto her features. She wasn’t sure if he recognized her. The long-sleeved shirt and baggy jeans wouldn’t hint at who she was. It could be a coincidence that he was there. In fact, he might not want to admit that he knew her. That thought made her stomach sink, and her hands trembled with the familiar jitters of timorousness that swirled around in her middle.

  The old Ursa had returned. She dropped her gaze, crestfallen. “Certainly, sir. Enjoy your day.” She tacked on a smile and slipped by him, ignoring how his body tensed with a slow inhale of breath as she moved past him and away, leaving him to his shopping.

  Vans was waiting there for her as she rounded the corner, grinning like a fool. “Wow! He looked at you like he wanted to eat you up.”

  “I think he just wants to enjoy his lunchtime browsing without anyone bugging him,” she said, and knew by the sharp look Vans gave her that she was being dramatic. “Just…let the man shop.” She tightened her lips into a smile and headed for the pet section and the books waiting to be organized.

  It felt good to take her frustration out on the books she was shelving. She was lost in her thoughts, steeling herself.

  “Ma’am.” The deep voice rumbled nearby, his steps light for a man of his size. She didn’t look over at him, gritting her teeth. “Please tell me you recognize me.” He stopped just outside her personal space, holding a pair of books. Even with the distance, his warmth felt sweet and decadent. Or was she remembering the time they’d spent together? “Say the word and I’ll leave and never bother you again.”

  “Do you remember me?” she asked, eyes fixed on the spines of books.

  He actually chuckled. “How could I forget you?”

  Her stomach spun around as she struggled not to look at him. She feared she would dissolve if she looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “A friend of mine suggested that I come here on my lunch. She said it’s one of her favorite places to find books about the lifestyle. She said the staff was quite helpful to her over the years.”

  Marcie? That made her turn to him and she saw the doubt melt away as his smile crept onto his full lips. “I had no idea who she was talking about, but I don’t think it’s the skinny clerk at the counter.” He took a step closer. “I’m Leo.” He offered out his hand to her.

  “Leo Wolfe?” She blinked, and then blushed when he looked baffled and nodded his head. “My friend has been going on and on about you. I thought you two were—”

  “Were. A long while back.” The smile warmed as he seemed to take note of her blush. “You are fucking sexy. Yes, Leo Wolfe.”

  She looked at his open palm and then the books he held in his other hand. At Her Feet was on top. He continued watching her, waiting for her to make her choice as he had when they’d been masked and she’d feared giving him the token. A few moments longer and she covered his hand with hers. “I’m Ursa. Ursa Myller. It’s really nice to meet you.”

  His thick fingers curled around hers and his eyes closed with an expression of pleasure and relief. When he opened his eyes, they shone brighter. “I wonder if you’d like to have dinner with me. I know we just met but anyone who could help my friend find the right books has my full attention.”

  As he gave a small pull on her hand, she found herself drawn in closer to him and the circle of his arms that curled around her.

  “Yes,” she whispered and laid her head on his chest, nuzzling into the soft fabric and breathing in the very Cupid scent of him. “I would love to have dinner with you.” She heard the steady heartbeat in her ear and the low rumble of satisfaction.

  The books fell from his hand with a clatter. “Oh, princess, you’ve just made my day.” His finger touched her chin and he coaxed her head up. His black eyes were more vivid without his mask. She could see the thick lashes that made his eyes look as if they were outlined in sooty black. For a moment, he searched her eyes and then leaned in and brushed a kiss to her lips as his knuckle kept her chin poised up.

  It started so softly, the shy contact of lips. Her breath caught and he echoed her while they stood there frozen. He parted his lips, as though to pose a question and in that moment of hesitation, she arched her tongue forward and caressed his lower lip and then darted between his lips to tangle with his tongue. He tasted like mint, chocolate and sunshine. When she deepened the kiss, he plunged his tongue forward to claim her mouth so hungrily that he bruised her lips. The arm around her tightened, pulling her off her feet.

  For a moment, she had a wild desire to throw him into the bookcase and tear off his suit, but the clatter of the books he’d dropped already had Vans hustling around the corner to see what the problem might be. The startled squeak of her friend broke the kiss prematurely.

  “Ursa!” Vans’s eyes were ready to pop out of her skull as they flicked between them. At last they settled on Leo accusingly, as though the man had accosted her friend.

  He carefully settled Ursa back to her feet and, with a cocky little smile, used his thumb to brush her lips, likely where her lipstick had smeared.

  “Think that’s a good start?” he asked seriously, easing back out of her personal space.

  It was an effort to let him slip from her arms, but she willed herself to let go. “Yes.” When she smiled, she felt the ache from the bruised lip. It must look swollen after his fierce kiss. “A beginning.” She pointed to the dropped books that had alerted Vans.

  As the other clerk stared, the big man knelt to gather up his mess, looking up through those thick lashes before standing up.

  “Ma’am. I’ll be taking these. If you can be so kind to help me?” His dark eyes pinned Ursa. “I’ll pick you up here after work?”

  Vans’s mouth fell open and she didn’t bother closing it, letting Leo stroll past her as she stared down Ursa.

  “That sounds fine.” Ursa made her voice as casual as she possibly could, refusing to meet her friend’s wild eyes. “Let me ring him up, Vans.” Together they walked to the counter, leaving poor Vans to gape and gawk after them.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Diana Rose Wilson

  Diana Rose Wilson grew up under the sha
dow of the Mayacamas Mountains, raised by outlaws and bikers. She has been involved in the lifestyle since 1989, including working at a high end adult boutique specializing in fetish, BDSM and LGBT merchandise.

  Her debut book is Wicked Masquerade, first in the Forbidden Secrets series. She has also been published in Finesse, a publication for the Thomas Keller Restaurant group.

  Her mundane work experience spans the computer gaming industry, technology dot coms, hazardous waste disposal including the Gulf Oil spill cleanup, County Administration, and the culinary industry.

  Currently, Diana lives in wine country with her husband, where she enjoys good wine, better food, loud Harleys, 3-day eventing, and the delights of deviant erotica.

  She is a member of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association, Snoopy Writers, and CFTW Writer’s Block.

  For your reading pleasure, we invite you to visit our web bookstore

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