Maybe it’s the fact that I do not know this man’s name and can’t fully see his face.
We are still masked, fucking like our lives depend on it on a bed in the sky.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he grits out, taking my breasts in his hands again, teasing my nipples again.
“Fuck,” I whisper, arching my back. “You’re going to make me come again.”
“You better fucking come again,” he says, torturing my nipples as his hips crash up against mine.
A moment later, he flips me over again, this time with him on top. He drives himself deep inside me and grinds hard, in and out, over and over, taking everything from me and making it his.
“Oh my God! Yes…fuck, yes!” I cry out, and he groans just as the orgasm consumes us both. I can literally feel him filling me up. Fast and hot, dripping from me and onto the bed.
Afterwards, he hovers over me. Both of us are panting, dripping with sweat and everything else. His eyes, dark and mysterious, are locked on mine. I run my fingertips up his sides, noticing a small constellation of freckles near his hip. Like Gemini, it’s almost ironic considering the half-faced mask he’s still wearing.
I’m curious.
As those eyes hold mine, I want to know who he is. What’s beneath it all.
I reach up slowly, but just before I can unmask him, he pushes up to his feet. Anger fills his eyes, and he grabs his shirt. I am still as he quickly dresses and disappears out the door.
Between his sudden reaction to my curiosity and the snuffing of the passion that just took hold of us both, I am frozen on the bed.
What…the fuck…was that?
The best sex of my life with the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.
I don’t even know who he was.
And now, I never will.
Chapter 4
Ellie
Five years later…
“This Riesling is a little dry,” Rachel makes a sour face into her glass, which is already half gone. It must not be too shabby because she’s still drinking it.
“That’s because it’s a chardonnay,” I tell her.
“Oh. Well, that explains why I hate it. Who ordered this?”
Rachel walks away from the table and approaches the mini-pop up bar, having words with the bartender who isn’t making enough to care how she feels about the wine selection. If I had to guess, she and Chance found him on social media. It’s where they got the caterers, the venue reservations, and DJ. Yes, my sister is having a random dinner party and spent the money on a DJ.
“Mommy, can I have a cookie?” Luca runs up to me; his face already covered in blue frosting.
“It looks to me like you already had a cookie,” I tell him as I try to run my fingers through his dark brown hair. It’s sticky, and I give up when he winces and pulls away.
“No, I didn’t,” he argues.
“Your face says differently,” I tell him, and a slow smile crawls across his little naturally tan face.
“Fine,” he admits. “But the other kids had two cookies. Their parents let them.”
“Well, their parents aren’t exhausted and don’t have to worry about their little boys staying up all night,” I argue. They also have two parents. Not a single mom who’s worked sixty hours this week collectively from three jobs that don’t have benefits.
Luca harrumphs and heads over to the charcuterie table. I know full well he’s just going to stuff his five-year-old little face with cheese, but it’s better than Play-Doh flavored sugar cookies. I take another sip of my chardonnay (no, it is not Riesling. Yes, they did order it. Because whether or not Rachel is a fan, Chance is a dry wine man, and despite her being a princess, he does find ways to get his way here and there). I like this man. Anyone who can put up with my sister’s high-maintenance tendencies while still making her feel like the Queen of the World gets an A plus in my book and all the chardonnay they want.
