I folded my legs and allowed my head to droop.
“Hey, come on.” She draped her arms over my shoulders pulling me closer. “I’m sorry.” She lifted my chin and moved pieces of my hair away from my face. “Saturday also means something else. It’s the no-talking-about-Michael day. Deal?” She held up her pinky.
I linked my pinky in hers and frowned. Fear was the biggest detractor. Michael wasn’t happy about me getting to know Deana. She had told me what he was capable of when I thought the worst he could do to me had already been done. I didn’t want to test the limit and see if he would treat me as badly as he did her at times, and his treatment of me wouldn’t have been considered as anything remotely good. Between shaving my head when I was eighteen, hurting the people I cared about, being an all-around dictator who kept me locked away, and all the unknown things he did with what he called his “garbage business,” he was far from a good man.
“I’m not in the mood for a party,” I told her.
“Is this about what those fuckheads said to you last time I took you out?”
I remembered the derogatory terms I wouldn’t dare repeat. “It’s about Michael.”
“Don’t worry about Michael. According to my mother, he’s out of town. I have your back, and you have a mean right hook. If anyone says anything, we’ll kick their dicks in. Deal?”
I sighed, shutting my eyes and massaging the twinge of pain forming behind my eyes. “I have a feeling if I go, you’ll get me into trouble.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
* * * * * *
During the drive to the party, Deana goaded me into drinking a concoction she made up in an iced tea bottle with the label intact. She told me to drink to calm my nerves. Having never touched any alcohol before, it affected me quickly.
“All the important women in the three families will be there,” she said. “You’re one of us and you should be there, too. Fuck what my father or those old assholes say. You’re family.”
I was two sheets to the wind by the time we made it to the party at a mansion.
We danced and I held Deana back from engaging in a fight with a woman who said she should watch her back. In the between time, I was introduced to many women from the family. Too numerous to remember their names, I called them by the name of their costumes in my head to keep track of it all.
While we ate food in the kitchen, a woman in clown makeup approached Deana. “I need to talk to you.”
“I’m busy, crazy. Scat.” Deana pointed to the nearest entrance and shot a pointed look at the clown.
“It’s about our deal. We have to talk about it…now.”
Rolling her eyes, Deana turned to me.
“Who is she?” I asked, keeping my voice low and waiting for an introduction.
“No one important.” Deana shot a look at the woman who seemed hurt by Deana’s delegation of her lack of importance. “I have to set this girl straight in private. Go mingle, okay? If anyone messes with you…come find me.”
* * * * * *
An hour became more, and the alcohol swirled in my stomach. I wandered around, finding myself on the second floor of the house in a very dark hall. I passed an open room with a man in a Zorro mask. Only his profile was seen. His cell phone was in his hands and his fingers moved a mile a minute as he typed a message. He paused, standing motionless. Leveling his gaze at me, he cast a sexy smile my way.
I gave him a subtle wave, mouthed an apology for impeding on his private time, and moved down the hall.
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Kyle said from behind me. As I turned to him, he tipped his fedora toward me and leered at my breasts. If I had to guess, his costume was meant to emulate the gangsters in the ‘20s. Kyle was Deana’s boyfriend. Deana told me it took a long time for Michael to come around to the idea. It wasn’t until Kyle became a made man that he allowed them to see one another.
I didn’t care for him. The few times I met him he caused me discomfort. Since he had been made, his sexual overtures toward me became more blatant.
“Are you going to tell?” I slurred.
He checked up and down the hall. “One of the rooms might be empty.” He tried to touch me but all his hand met was the air.
The swift movement sent the world spinning a little faster.
“Don’t be that way. If you come with me, I might get a little amnesia.”
“You’re a dick.” I held my hands out to the wall to guide myself back downstairs.
“Where are you going, sweetness?” He imprisoned me against the wall, halting my escape.
My movement slowed. When I tried to punch him in the throat, he caught my hand and shoved me back. I lost my balance, hit the back of my head against the wall, and fell to the floor.
“You’re about to pass out.” He roughly handled my body, compelling me to stand faster than my brain could catch up with the motion.
The fluid burning and churning in my stomach threatened to escape.
Kyle looked down the corridor again. “There’s a room open. Why don’t we go in there and see how soon you’ll pass out?”
“The lady is indisposed,” came from a hoarse, low, and soft voice behind Kyle. “Take my very strong advice and stick your dick in a more willing woman. But, granted, you probably have issues finding one willing, and that’s why you need to resort to using someone whose judgment is skewed.” It was the man in the Zorro mask. His body was made for the black suit he wore, sans tie.
“Fuck you, punk.” Kyle waved at the man and turned back to me.
I blamed it on either my drunkenness or my modern Zorro’s speed for the reason I wasn’t able to see what happened. In the aftermath, Kyle was on his knees, gasping for air, and holding his throat.
“Don’t you know who the fuck I am?” Kyle coughed and choked, struggling to expel his threat.
“I do, and you know what? I don’t care.” Drawing back his fist, Black Mask hit Kyle with a punch to the side of his jaw. A hollow echo resounded, and I almost felt it as brutally as it was heard. Kyle’s eyes rolled back, and he slumped to the floor.
“Whoa,” my modern Zorro grabbed me on the brink of me falling to the ground.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I mumbled.
He immediately shuffled me down the hall and carted me into a room with an en suite. He set me down on the cold tile floor. I crawled to the porcelain bowl with haste. The masked man held my hair up and away from my face as the alcohol got the best of me.
“Better?” he asked, after I had expelled my entire stomach.
I shook my head, rubbing the rawness out of my torso. “Who are you supposed to be?” I kept one hand steady on the bowl and pointed an unsteady finger at him. “Zorro?”
“And who are you?”
“Lolita Pulido,” I said with a grin I’m sure looked ridiculous.
His smile broadened. “The assumption makes sense.” He leaned down next to me and I couldn’t help what I thought. Even with the eye mask, the man was gorgeous beyond words. “I’m not sure your costume fits.”
I grumbled as I felt it come up again, this time I missed the toilet.
* * * * * *
The light in the bathroom had begun to change, darkening with the passing hours. The vibrations I once felt through the floor, along with the noise from the boisterous party in session downstairs, had begun to change as well. Finally feeling well enough to lift my head, I discovered I was alone in the room. I peeled myself off the bathroom floor and ran the shower. I wiggled out of my soiled costume, leaving it on the floor, and locked the bathroom door.
I assumed Black Mask was gone by the time I washed the scent of vomit off my skin. I wrapped myself in a towel and peeled back the shower curtain. Scanning the floor, I noticed something missing: my costume.
Holding the towel tightly around me, I plodded into a large den that might’ve once been a bedroom at some point—the en suite was a blaring indicator.
Sitting on the edge of the desk, waiti
ng for me was the man in the black mask. “Feel better?”
“The room sort of stopped spinning,” I told him, tightening the towel around me. “I think I have my senses again.”
“I picked this up for you from downstairs.” He plucked up a bottle of water and something wrapped in a napkin from the desk.
“I can’t eat.” I paused in front of him and couldn’t help ogling his body. Even incognito, he was in general, a very hot place to lay my eyes.
“You need something to soak up the alcohol in your stomach. It’s bread, it shouldn’t agitate your stomach any further.”
I checked my towel to make sure it was secure and took the items from his hands. Taking the smallest bite of the bread, I chewed it slowly, worried I’d get sick when I didn’t think my stomach could handle much more.
Black Mask moved his arms out of his jacket and placed it over me. I stared at his hands as they rested on my shoulders, and pulled the lapel of the jacket over my breasts to give me modesty.
“You didn’t have to stay with me, but…thank you.”
He stepped apart from me, leaning his lower half on the desk. “I wanted to make sure the asshole didn’t get any ideas about you when he woke up. He was promptly escorted out of my home when he gained consciousness.”
“Your home?” I angled a brow at him in disbelief.
“A rental. I never stay in one place for long.”
“Then…this was your party?” I looked around the room with a grin. “You’re one of the good guys, huh? What are you doing associating with some of the people downstairs?”
“This is the nicest I’ve ever been to anyone.” He touched my chin and gave me a wink.
Every word he said and every gesture made me feel more at ease. I was drawn to him physically and mentally, and it showed. I stepped forward until my breasts mashed against his chest and left him cornered against the desk. It could’ve been the lingering effects of the alcohol, or it could’ve been the constant feeling that wouldn’t leave me, telling me this might’ve been my last night of freedom.
Kyle would be vengeful, and if he told Michael where I had been, all my fears would’ve come to fruition.
“Why am I a special snowflake?” I leaned forward, tipping up on my toes to give him a kiss.
He balked at my attempt and moved away to sit on the couch situated on the far side of the room.
“I rinsed my mouth out and gargled, five times.” I held up five fingers for emphasis. “I’m completely of my own sound mind and body.”
“It’s only been a few hours. I doubt that.”
“You waited for me, for three hours?” I glanced around the room for the time. It was almost one o’clock in the morning.
My heart began to race, knowing that Michael would have a fit. He called into the guards at 1 a.m. to make sure I was there. The bodyguard ran a check of the house to find me. This time, he wouldn’t find me.
Inhaling, I released a steady breath to calm myself down.
Black Mask took notice and leaned forward with a smirk, clasping his hands across his gaped open long legs. “Don’t do something outside of who you are, Lolita.”
Our eye contact was unshakeable and focused. We communicated in the silence, negotiating and debating what we both wanted. I was already found out, and I was going to make the night count.
I glanced at the door; the lock was engaged. I played his game and with an unsure hand, I dropped the towel from underneath the jacket, letting it fall to the ground. I put my hands on my hips opening the jacket.
I didn’t need to say anything. He turned off the only light illuminating the space and stood in front of me, taking me into his arms and pinning me against the couch with his body before I felt the need. His kisses were incredible, and his hands found all the right places to set me on fire. I reached down to unzip his pants, and he held my hands up, putting them above my head and tried to enter me.
I couldn’t help the squeal of pain that escaped unexpectedly and pressured him to stop. “No. No, please don’t stop. Keep going.” I clasped his head looking up into a glimmer of blue eyes, one of the few things I could see in the darkened room.
“You should’ve told me.”
“I didn’t want it to stop you.”
He brushed his lips against mine, teasing me by holding back from giving me a full kiss. “Why now, and why with me?”
“Because this might be my last night on Earth and you’re the first nice guy I’ve met.”
“Is that all it takes?”
“When you’re in the middle of a land without the sun, and you finally get a taste of what the light feels like on your face, it’s enough.”
“Keep speaking that way and I’m going to think you’re still a little drunk.”
“Are you going to continue?” I asked with a laugh.
A finger brushed against my lips, making them part. “Is this really how you want to remember you first time?”
I slowly smiled. “Make it something I won’t ever want to forget.”
* * * * * *
Panting and winded, my chest heaved against Black Mask’s almost fully dressed body. I’d done things I had no name for and was taught things I couldn't describe. I asked him to make it memorable, and he definitely delivered.
I hoped when the alcohol left my system I’d remember every minor detail; I didn’t want to forget.
“What was that?” Although I could barely see his face, I knew he was smiling. “What I really mean to say is, I thought men didn’t last that long. Three times? In…”
“It’s almost five in the morning,” he said, sounding as smug as I was sure he looked at the moment. “I set the bar for all other men.”
“I think you did.”
Holding me, he flipped me over to rest my back on the couch. His tongue blazed a trail from my Cupid’s bow to the tip of my nose, eliciting a soft laugh from me. Parting with a gentle kiss, he rose.
A glimpse of a larger than life raven on the side of his shoulder blade was all I was permitted to see when a brush of wind moved the blackout curtains. The moon shone on his tan back, revealing only a piece of what might’ve been a larger tattoo; the dark prevented me from finding out.
The second he flipped on a light, I slid off the couch and fit myself into his jacket. Grabbing a few tissues from the brass box on the desk, I cleaned myself off. I was left sore, but it was worth it. I had spent three more sessions with my masked man in making my first, second, and third time memories I wanted to keep.
He kept his back to me as his arms moved about to button up his shirt. After flipping on the light switch, he turned to me and began to remove his mask.
“Don’t.” I shook my head, holding my hand out to stop him. “Can we keep it this way?”
“I take it you don’t have plans to see me again?”
“It’s not because I don’t want to,” I explained, the disappointment weighted my words. “It’s because I can’t. I want you to keep all your appendages and live to see another day. I hope you can understand. Believe me, it’s not because I don’t want to see you again. I’m pretty…pissed about it. Trust me.”
“We’ll see what I can do about that.”
“I—”
“I’ll take you home,” he cut me off from warning him about Michael. At the time, I hoped he’d take my advice to heart, because it would’ve been the final straw to break me if Michael did something to him.
Black Mask rummaged around the desk in search of an item. Returning to me, he held up a few paperclips. He manipulated the jacket, keeping the clips unseen and fixed the jacket to give me enough coverage to leave.
A gentle kiss on my forehead made me smile. “You’re the first woman to make me lose control, and I can’t formulate the reason.”
I moved my hands down a wrinkle in his shirt. “You said you’re not usually a nice guy. Maybe that’s why?”
“Maybe.” He sighed as he fingered my chin. “I wasn’t only referring to it happening, but what
happened.”
“Oh!” I slapped my hand on my forehead, panicking. The creasing of his forehead threw me into lying to him; my irresponsible slip up made in the heat of the moment would be taken care of later. “I’m on the pill.”
“You’re a virgin—were a virgin.”
“I get really bad periods.” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Shit. You probably didn’t want to know all of that.”
He laughed and kissed my lips. He glanced out the window for a minute. A stark coldness took residence on his face, an expression he had never used toward me. “I have something I need to do.” Suddenly detached, he remained with his back facing me. “Meet me out front. I won’t take long, and then I’ll take you home.”
“Please, don’t take too long,” I pleaded.
He glanced at me from over his shoulder, the mask breaking a little for me. “I won’t.”
I sashayed downstairs, smiling and ignoring the soreness between my legs that demanded I grimace at every turn. The party had wound down and only a few uniformed maids in T-shirts and slacks were around to clean up the mess the celebration had left behind.
I opened the front door to the home, and I was met with an argument between Michael and Deana in the middle of the circular drive. The anger fueled behind Michael’s slap to Deana’s face sent a bolt of hatred straight to my heart.
She spun toward the car, catching a glimpse of me. Her eyes watered, apologizing to me for the unknown. Michael followed where her gaze landed, and gestured to Tyler who stood beside him.
“Take her home. I’ll deal with her when I get there.” Michael marched toward me and roughly grasped my arm. “Say goodbye to Deana because it’s the last time you’ll ever lay eyes on her.” I was shoved into the back of a car. He quickly followed me and slammed the door behind our entry. As he settled into the seat next to me, he tugged at the lapel of my jacket. “You fuckin’ somebody in there?”
Lies & Lullabies Page 19