by Fiona Archer
My libido, extremely interested in the mesmerizing creature before me, flips my brain off for that little reminder. Now isn’t the time to focus on how often I failed to banish less than innocent thoughts of my best friend’s little sister. Including every year she accompanied me and Callum to the Emergency Ball before she moved halfway across the world. It didn’t matter how much my tux suffocated me or how much I wished they were serving pizza and wings—watching Maggie’s eyes light up beneath extravagant masks as she celebrated her favorite holiday always took my breath away.
Now she’s moving home in a week, and I’ll have to find the strength to stay away from her. To not haul her into my arms, shove my hands in her thick red hair, and kiss the life out of her like I did when she was eighteen. In a moment of weakness, I’d claimed her mouth. I remember how petal-soft her lips were, and the lingering hint of artificial strawberry from her favorite gloss that she constantly chewed off. The world had melted away, and I couldn’t remember why kissing her was such a bad idea. Until I swept my tongue inside for my first real taste of Maggie Clark and she made this contented purr in the back of her throat. I’ll never forget that sound as long as I live.
Thankfully, it yanked me back to reality before I could do any real damage. Callum had always been like a brother to me; then we became partners on the police force. Doing anything with his sister would be more than breaking the Bro Code; it’d be the ultimate betrayal.
Since Cal told me Maggie would be walking back into my life, I’ve struggled to think of anything else. Until now.
“You forget your name, darlin’?”
She blinks like she’s coming out of a trance, then gives me a brilliant smile. “Isn’t anonymity the whole point of wearing masks?”
Fuck, she’s stunning. I have no idea what she looks like without the purple contacts, half her face painted—I couldn’t tell it wasn’t real until I got close—and whether the pale blue hair is real or fake, but this look is really doing it for me.
I rub a hand over my scruffy jaw, pretending to think. “You’ve got a point. But now that you know my name, it’s only fair I know yours.”
She sips her champagne, then cants her head. “Maybe. Then again, all is fair in love and war, and it’s always best to utilize every advantage one has. Besides…” Taking a step in, she lifts her chin to maintain eye contact. She’s so close I can feel her breath fan over my neck, stirring my dick in the confines of my pants. “A girl should always have a man’s name. You never know when she might need to call it out.”
“That an invitation or a challenge?”
“It’s both,” she says a little breathlessly. “Definitely both.”
“I accept.” I pass our drinks to a nearby waiter. “We can make it to my room upstairs in five minutes. You’ll be calling out my name another five after that.”
I take her hand, but she pulls me up short. “Not upstairs. Somewhere down here.” When I arch a brow, she returns one of her own. “If we slip away somewhere private, you’ll have plenty of time to rise to the challenge and still have me back to ring in the New Year.”
“And after?”
Rising onto her toes, she whispers in my ear, “That all depends on your performance before.”
“Deal.”
Since we book the same hotel every year, I know my way around. I lead her out of the ballroom and down a hall where a second ballroom is under construction and, therefore, empty. The doors are locked. The accompanying bathrooms, however, are not. I used them a little while ago when—for the first time in history—there was a line at the other men’s room.
Inside, I flip the lock on the door and crowd her against it. I want to pounce, but I hold myself back, giving her time to change her mind.
“What you did with your mask, it’s incredible. You an artist or something?”
Her lips twitch at the corners. “You could say that.”
I drag my thumb across her bottom lip. “I think you might be the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”
“You don’t have to flatter me, Jonah. I’m already a sure thing.”
Something about the way she says my name conjures the image of an innocent ginger beauty with peach-colored freckles and big brown eyes. No, damn it. Don’t think of her. You don’t have the right, and it’s not fair to the woman you’re with.
“It’s not flattery if it’s the truth.”
Her cheeks pinken beneath the painted mask. Again I’m reminded of Maggie, the way she blushed every time I caught her staring at me. Fuck, if I don’t get her out of my head soon, I’ll go insane. Good thing I have an excellent plan to do just that.
“Second thoughts?”
She shakes her head. “You?”
“Hell no.”
“Then kiss me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I devour her, instantly losing myself in the intoxicating feeling of taking a woman in an abandoned restroom with hundreds of people down the hall. She runs her hands up my chest and grips my lapels like I’m the answer to her prayers, and for the moment, maybe I am. She certainly is for me. I needed this—the escape, the mental and physical release—and at the rate my cock is growing thick and long against her belly, my body couldn’t agree more.
She opens for me. I lick into her mouth and groan. She tastes like champagne with a hint of chocolate and…strawberries.
Don’t go there, Warner.
I kick that thought away and switch things up, trailing kisses down her neck and letting my hands roam. Just when I think getting under all that netting is going to be impossible, she lifts her leg. Her bare leg. Silently thanking the designer, I hitch her thigh higher and roll my hips. My mystery woman gasps, sending a shot of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
“Jonah?”
I grunt in acknowledgment, not wanting to remove my lips from her vanilla-scented skin.
“There’s— Uhn...” I chuckle and soothe the faint bite mark on her shoulder with a kiss. “There’s something you should know.”
And just that fast, adrenaline is replaced with ice water.
Chapter Three
Maggie
“Are you married?”
I’m so focused on my own moral dilemma—realizing I need to tell Jonah who I am before we go any further, even though it’ll likely cause history to repeat itself—that it takes a second for the one he’s concerned about to sink in. “No, nothing like that.”
“Is it anything I need to be worried about?”
Worried? That we’re finally going to explore our undeniable chemistry without the burden of brotherly guilt hanging over us?
I meet his eyes and shake my head. “Definitely not.”
“Perfect.”
With that, Jonah takes my mouth fiercely, as though it’s his by right—and it is. Since that first stolen kiss, every part of me has belonged to him. He just refused to claim me.
Until now. He’s claiming me now. A purr of arousal rumbles in my chest.
Jonah’s head snaps back, and he stares like he’s been ripped out of a dream and dumped into a nightmare. Yanking his mask off, he whispers a single word. “Mags.”
My eyes widen, but I recover quickly. Eighteen-year-old me froze like a deer in headlights when our moment was shattered. I’d been too shocked to do anything, and I let him slip through my fingers. But I’m not that young girl anymore. I’m a woman who knows what she wants. And I’ll be damned if I let Jonah Warner get away a second time.
Allowing my lips to curve up slightly, I peer up innocently from beneath dramatic lashes. “Hi, Jo-Jo.”
“Holy shit. Holy shit.”
He steps back, but I fist my hands in his thick hair and hold firm. “No, Jonah, don’t. Don’t turn your back on me again. Stop denying that this thing between us exists!”
“Denying?” he scoffs. “Mags, I stopped denying I wanted you back when you were fifteen. I just never allowed myself to admit it out loud or act on it. Not for three years, anyway. I fucked up big that night
.”
“Why, because you kissed me? Who cares?”
“Your brother would. Besides, you were too young.”
“I was eighteen.”
“And I was almost twenty-one, Maggie. That’s a big difference at that age.”
I give up on justifying our past and switch to defending our present. “Well, it’s not anymore.”
“Your brother—”
“Is not my keeper,” I say with conviction. “Answer me one thing and be honest. If I wasn’t Callum’s sister, would you take a chance on us?”
Blue eyes pierce me as his large hands tighten on my waist. “You’d already be mine. Nothing would’ve stopped me from claiming you.”
“Then don’t let this stop you now.” I slip my hands under his lapels, then up to his shoulders to push his jacket off. Holding my gaze, he releases me to let it drop from his arms. His breaths grow shallow as I score my nails lightly down the stiff fabric covering his chest, down the hills and valleys of his taut abs that I’d give anything to be skin to skin with right now. “Give in, Jonah. Give in to me. Give in to us,” I whisper as I squeeze his hard length over his pants.
He buries his face in my neck and groans. “Fuck me,” he curses under his breath.
“I have every intention of it.” I start to undo his belt, but his hands quickly envelop mine and hold them prisoner. Frustration tears through me, and anger won’t be far behind. I’m fairly easygoing for a redhead…until I’m not. But before I can lay into him, Jonah pins my wrists above my head and steals my words with a hard kiss.
“Take it easy, Mags. I’m not saying no. There’s literally nothing I want more in this world than to be deep inside you. I’m done fighting it.”
I’ve dreamed of hearing those words from him a thousand times, and now that I have, I’m afraid of what comes next. Swallowing my fear, I state the obvious. “But…”
“But,” he repeats, stroking my cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting our first time together be a quickie in a public bathroom. I want you laid out beneath me in a soft bed with nothing but time to explore every delicious inch.”
I know pouting is childish, but I do it anyway. “You’re going to torture us both by making us go back to the party all worked up like this? I didn’t know you were such a sadist.”
His gaze follows the path of his knuckles as they trail down my neck, over the exposed inner swell of my breast, across to where my nipple is straining against the thin fabric of my dress. When I shudder, he gives me that cocky grin of his.
“Sweetheart, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, but you will. And no, I don’t intend on us both going back all worked up. Just me.” Before I can ask what he means, his free hand slips into the opening in my skirt. My breath catches when his fingers graze over the soaked silk covering my pussy as my hips buck forward, silently begging for more. “Fuck, baby, you’re dripping wet for me.”
“Jonah, please,” I whimper. “I want you so badly.”
“Shhhh, I’m gonna take real good care of you. Just hold still.”
I’m shaking with need. It’s taking all my energy to remain standing, so I’m not sure how well I’ll hold still.
Then Jonah Warner stares into my eyes…and drops to his knees.
Chapter Four
Jonah
How many times have I fantasized about getting on my knees for Maggie Clark? More times than I can fucking count, that’s for damn sure. I half expect this to turn out to be a dream. That I’ll wake up covered in sweat, my hands full of my steel-hard cock and aching balls instead of her sweet body. That’s happened plenty of times, too. Either way—cruel dream or miraculous reality—I’m going to give her an orgasm for the ages.
Parting the high slit in her dress, I gather the netting and instruct her to hold it back. I curl my fingers into the waistband of her panties and drag them down and off, then stare at my prize.
“Christ, Mags,” I rasp, petting her damp flesh. “I always knew your pussy would be just as pretty as the rest of you.”
“Jonah, please,” she says, her voice wavering with need. I can’t hold back any longer.
Hooking one of her legs onto my shoulder, I dive in like a man starved. She cries out with my first deep lick, and I go back for more. My tongue parts her folds, rims and dips into her clenching entrance to lap at her sweet juices, then up to flick her sensitive clit before sucking on it.
“Fuck, you taste like expensive whiskey, baby,” I grate out between licks. “I could eat you all night.”
She whimpers as I taste and tease her, again and again. Her moans and gasps bounce off the walls, spurring me to race her faster toward that final edge.
“Oh God, I’m close, but I...I can’t hold myself up any—”
I wedge my other shoulder under her, grip her ass in both hands, and slide her up the polished wood of the door as I stand to my full height. Maggie makes a squeak of surprise that turns into a mewl of pleasure when I continue to feast on her. In seconds she’s writhing on my shoulders, fingers fisted in my hair, and grinding her hot cunt on my mouth as she chases her climax. Her thighs begin to shake, and finally, the dam breaks.
“Jonahhhhhhh!”
My name echoes around us as she takes her time riding out the aftershocks until all that’s left is the blissful high. Carefully, I lower her to the ground and hold her against me until she’s steady on her feet.
“What time is it?” she questions softly.
I’m not even offended those are her first words, because I know this girl better than I know myself. I check my watch. “Seventeen minutes till the New Year. We should go.”
She looks up at me. Even with the wig, makeup, and contacts, it’s so obviously Maggie I don’t know how I didn’t recognize her before. Or maybe you did. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Deep down I knew it was her. I just needed the excuse not to care.
“And after?”
I pick up her panties and my jacket. Giving her a crooked grin, I slip the silk thong into my pants pocket and pull the tux back on. “That depended on my performance before, remember? You tell me.”
Lavender eyes narrow; her head tilts. “It was acceptable.”
I almost choke on a laugh. “Acceptable?”
A resolute nod. “Adequate, at the very least.”
Gently gripping her chin, I place a lingering kiss on her lips. She makes that hot-as-fuck purring sound and leans into me. It takes all my control not to throw her over my shoulder and haul her ass upstairs. “I suppose I’ll just have to try harder when we get up to my room later.”
She smiles coyly. “I suppose you will.”
We take a minute to ensure we’re both presentable. I’m flying higher than ever as I exit the bathroom, hand in hand with my dream girl...until a vicious growl hits us.
“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”
And I find myself staring into the angry brown eyes of my best friend.
“Cal.”
Chapter Five
Maggie
My brother doesn’t even wait for an explanation—not that we have one that would make this better in his eyes. He just storms off and disappears around the corner.
“I’ll go talk to him.”
“No.” Jonah stops me with a hand on my arm. “I’m the one who fucked up.”
Right. Because being with me is him fucking up.
My heart sinks. I should’ve known nothing would change, but I let myself hope anyway. Pulling my shoulders back, I lift my chin and concede. “What are you going to say?”
“I’ll think of something. Hurry back so you don’t miss the big moment.”
He gives me a peck on the cheek—the platonic kind he’s given me hundreds of times—then runs after Callum. Away from me. If that isn’t a metaphor for our relationship, I don’t know what is. But whatever, I’m fine. I didn’t move home for Jonah; I did it to start a new chapter in my life. Granted, I’d hoped for a kiss at midnight
, but I ended up with the most intense orgasm of my life, so I came out on top.
Literally. I came while on top of his shoulders. Hottest. Thing. Ever.
I fan myself with a hand as I reenter the ballroom. No more thinking about Jonah’s incredible body or god-like strength or the suffocating sadness creeping in when I think of what we almost had. I need to turn my thoughts to ringing in a new chapter. One that requires a glass of champagne for the countdown that’s happening in—I glance over at the digital clock ticking off the seconds until midnight—three minutes? Crap.
It takes me at least two to find a waiter who isn’t carrying an empty tray, but with a minute to spare I stand firm, glass at the ready, shoulders back and tears rolling down my face. Wait, what? I carefully touch my cheek and come away with damp fingers. Damn it, I will not let this ruin my night or my mask.
I blink my tears away as the crowd gets louder, everyone excited and highly inebriated. Something I wish I was right about now. Then maybe I wouldn’t be imagining Jonah calling my name because I’d be too drunk to care that he chose my brother over me. Again.
“Maggie!” A strong hand encircles my upper arm and turns me around. Something like relief fills Jonah’s eyes. “There you are. I was afraid I wasn’t gonna make it.”
I frown. “Make what?”
“Make it in time to kiss my girl at midnight.” I’m stunned silent, and before I can ask him what he means, his smile falls away. “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”
I don’t know whether to laugh or scream. “Are you serious right now? As soon as Callum pitched a fit about us being together, you took off, just like you did six years ago. Don’t worry, though, I was fine without you before, and I’ll be fine without you now.”
“Baby, I didn’t run after Cal to tell him I’d stay away from you.” Jonah wraps one arm around my waist and rests a possessive hand on the side of my neck. “I said I was sorry he had to catch us like he did, but I don’t care if he doesn’t approve anymore because it’s none of his damned business.”