Masquerade: A Standalone Romantic Suspense Read online

  M A S Q U E R A D E

  Hazel Kelly & Chloe Clark

  © 2017 Hazel Kelly

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, copied, or stored in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  All characters, events, brands, companies, and locations in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental.

  Edited by Aquila Editing.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  O N E

  T W O

  T H R E E

  F O U R

  F I V E

  S I X

  S E V E N

  E I G H T

  N I N E

  T E N

  E L E V E N

  T W E L V E

  T H I R T E E N

  F O U R T E E N

  F I F T E E N

  S I X T E E N

  E P I L O G U E

  N O T E F R O M T H E A U T H O R S

  O T H E R B O O K S B Y H A Z E L & C H L O E

  O T H E R S E R I E S B Y H A Z E L K E L L Y

  “Love is for fools wise enough to take a chance.”

  - Anonymous

  O N E

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask, flipping the passenger side mirror down so I can put on some lip gloss.

  “Of course,” Ruby says. “Going to a party like this has been on my bucket list for ages.”

  I close the mirror again and look at her. “You mean your fuck-it list.”

  She smiles as she comes to a stop at a red light. “That too.”

  “Aren’t you worried it will make things weird for you at work?” Lord knows I skimmed the employee handbook at my firm like it was a case that wasn’t my problem, but I’m pretty sure attending sex parties with your coworkers wasn’t recommended anywhere.

  “Not at all. Besides, Carol and Jaime have been asking me to come to one for ages. I couldn’t keep turning them down, especially when I’m kind of curious about the whole thing.”

  “I wish I’d had ages to come to terms with this idea,” I say, rolling my head towards the window. “If you didn’t have a spare key to my apartment, I would’ve hidden behind my couch until you drove away.”

  “Oh, please,” she says, gliding between lanes as the sun sinks below the horizon. “You’ll probably have more fun than I will.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, ’cause one-night stands are really my thing.”

  “Hey, don’t bash it until you’ve tried it.”

  I’m so anxious it feels like my chest is in a vise, but I wouldn’t even know where to start if I were going to explain my concerns to Ruby. I mean, I know she wouldn’t deliberately take me somewhere if she thought I’d be traumatized since she’s a psychologist, but I don’t think she knows how unprepared I feel for this event.

  Maybe it’s just because I don’t understand the appeal of a sex party when sex has never really impressed me all that much. I’ve had my share and everything—and there have even been a few times I think I actually enjoyed myself—but it always feels so predictable and samey. Two enthusiastic pumps between my legs and poof, the magic is over.

  Perhaps I repeatedly pick the wrong partners, but I never understand when people say it makes them feel like a “goddess,” for example. The word that comes to my mind is usually “receptacle.”

  I sigh and yank my short black dress down. “Remind me why this isn’t an orgy again?”

  Ruby removes one hand from the wheel and waves it in the air while she talks. “An orgy is a party full of swingers who are just there to have lots of no-strings-attached sex with each other.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Whereas this party, as far as my understanding goes, has a gentler, more polyamorous vibe.”

  I furrow my brow. “Meaning…?”

  “Meaning the hosts believe it’s healthy and normal to experience genuine affection for multiple people.”

  “Is that so?”

  “The sex is the vehicle,” she continues. “But it’s more about enjoying a genuine connection with people.”

  “A sexual connection.”

  “Right,” she says. “But it’s not supposed to make you feel dirty. It’s supposed to be more like a beautiful celebration of our ability to feel sexy and adventurous with strangers.”

  I desperately want to be cool enough for this—and cool enough for my fearless friend—but I’m totally freaking out.

  “It’s about feeling safe, too,” she says. “That’s why everyone wears masks.”

  My eyebrows jump up my face. “What?”

  “It’s a masquerade party.”

  “You didn’t tell me that.”

  “I think I just did,” she says, tilting her head in my direction.

  “What the fuck, Ruby? What’s safe about being surrounded by a bunch of people in masks?!”

  She shrugs. “Supposedly it creates an air of mystery and makes people feel more open.”

  “Sounds like the whole thing is plenty open enough.”

  “I think it’s a fun idea,” she says. “So much of regular dating is about first impressions. I like the idea of wearing something that forces you to be more open-minded.”

  “I’m not sleeping with any masked strangers tonight,” I say. “You know that, right?”

  “I know you’ve said it six hundred times.”

  “Seriously. I don’t want your feelings to be hurt if I keep my knees together and my hands to myself.”

  “That’s perfectly fine,” she says. “The sex at this party is no different from sex anywhere else in that you shouldn’t do it unless you want to and you feel comfortable.”

  “Good.” I nod once. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

  “Why did you say you’d come, though, if you’re so freaked out by the whole thing?”

  I crane my neck forward. “Because you said you were going either way, and I’d be a terrible friend if I let you go to a weird sex party by yourself.”

  “Yes you would.”

  “And that was before I knew about the masks.”

  “God, they’re just the small ones that cover the top half of your face. It’s not that big a deal.”

  “For the record, I will be cashing in on this sometime when I need a favor.”

  “It’s going to be very civilized. You’ll see. The hosts are academics. The only thing people are going to be high on is amorous feelings.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You can hang out by the snack table.”

  I laugh. “At any other kind of party, I would totally love that plan, but if there were ever a time when I won’t be hanging out by the finger food, it’s tonight.” I shake my head. “Like I’m going to dip my hand in the mixed nuts when I don’t know where everyone else’s have been.”

  Ruby laughs and pushes a few chunky curls over her shoulder. “Suit yourself.”

  I cross my arms and shudder as I recall the phrase “mixed nuts.”

  “Your mask is in the backseat, by the way.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “I thought you’d like a new, hygienic one,” she says.

  “I don’t appreciate your tone,” I say. “Don’t mock me like this is a normal thing to do.”

  “I’m not mocking you.”

  I bend around my seat and stretch my fingers towards the plastic bag that’s just within reach before pulling it into my lap.

  “You can pick whichever one you like.”

  I put one mask on each l
eg and let my eyes bounce between them. Sure enough, they are far prettier than what I’d imagined, and the brow of each is covered in full feathers and sequins. One is red and black with deep red sequins, and the other is pink and black with lace trim.

  “What do you think?” Ruby asks.

  “They’re pretty.”

  “I thought the red one might go with my hair, but if you like that one better…”

  “No,” I say, dragging a thumb across the black lace bordering the other. “I like the pink and black.”

  “Matches your nails.”

  “Hmm. I suppose it does. Not that anyone will notice when I’m hiding in the shadows.”

  “That might be a dangerous plan at a party like this.”

  “Oh yeah. Good point.” I crumple the plastic bag and shove it in the pocket behind Ruby’s seat, leaving the masks in my lap.

  “You’ll be pleased to know that, from my understanding, this place is worth a visit—sex or no sex.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nods. “I’m told it’s a proper mansion, full of gilded frames and Corinthian columns and—”

  “Beds?”

  “Most likely.”

  “And what exactly are you hoping to get out of tonight?” I ask. “Since you’re so keen to attend.”

  “I have a list.”

  “Of course you do.” Was there anything she didn’t have a list for? She claimed it was because she liked to free her mind of anything that could be written down, but it was a bit excessive. Sure, lots of people had a bucket list and a fuck-it list and a to-do list, but Ruby also had a list of qualities she wanted in the perfect man, a list of achievements she wanted to accomplish by certain dates, a list of skills she wanted to learn before she died. To be frank, the list of her lists went on and on.

  “I have my hopes set on multiple orgasms.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “I’d like to experiment with some bondage, too.”

  It’s an out-of-body experience listening to her talk about sexual acts like a list of chores that need to be done.

  “And if you must know, I’ve been psyching myself up for a threesome,” she says as matter-of-factly as a normal person mentions that their dry-cleaning needs picked up.

  I raise my brows. “A threesome?”

  “I’m not going to force it or anything, but if the opportunity presents itself…”

  “Wow, okay.”

  “I’ve been getting the feeling that Jaime and Carol are up for it anyway, and—”

  I furrow my brow. “I thought Jaime was a woman?”

  “She is.”

  “So lesbian action is on the list, too?”

  “I put it on just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” I ask.

  “Just in case it happens so I’ll get to cross it off.”

  “Fuck me.”

  “No offense,” she says. “But I wasn’t going to.”

  I groan. “I didn’t mean it like that, Ruby. I just meant I didn’t realize exactly how open to this thing you were.”

  “Reluctance has no place in my life.”

  “Obviously not,” I say. “But I thought you made out with your fair share of women in college?”

  “I did, but that’s all so harmless these days, isn’t it? It feels like everyone and their grandma has kissed a girl and liked it.”

  “I had no idea you felt this way.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’d prefer two strapping young gentleman run a train on me—”

  My mouth falls open.

  “But the experience could be beautiful either way.”

  I am in shock as I stare at her from the passenger seat, wondering how someone as straight edge and vanilla as me could have such an audacious friend.

  “And worst-case scenario,” she says, turning the wheel. “Let’s at least get a tour of the house.”

  I watch her eyes go big and follow them out the windshield to the brick mansion at the end of the driveway before my heart starts to race like a fox being chased by hounds. “Holy shit.”

  Ruby reduces her speed like even she’s a bit overwhelmed.

  When we reach the top of the driveway, we follow the loop around a large fountain to a small area that’s been sectioned off to the left where two dozen fancy cars are parked in the grass.

  I shake my head as she pulls in beside a Merc and puts the car in park. “I don’t know what to say.”

  She pulls the key out, takes a deep breath, and grabs the red and black mask from my lap. “How about here goes nothing?”

  T W O

  As soon as we arrive, Ruby goes to look for the hosts, presumably to thank them for the invitation, but something about her bold resolve tells me it isn’t going to be a hand-shaking type of thank you. So I wish her luck and say I’ll have a look around… and that she should call me the second she wants to leave.

  Without her to fixate on, I carry on like I’m looking for someone in particular, too, to avoid being approached by any of the masked couples and small groups that are huddled in corners and whispering to each other on the large wraparound couches.

  I can’t help but notice that most of the people are immaculately dressed, and I have to admit, there is something sexy about the flirtatious and mysterious masks everyone is wearing. It makes the whole setting seem even more surreal, and I find comfort in the fact that I can pretend to be anyone I want with this mask on.

  And what I want is to be less blown away by the mansion, but it’s difficult not to be considering it’s even more impressive on the inside. Every high-ceilinged room has luxurious-looking drapes and art on the walls that looks old enough to be museum-worthy. Or at least, I can confirm that all the rooms downstairs look that way after my self-guided tour.

  Soft music follows me from room to room through the built-in speakers, and I finally start to relax right before I enter the dining room and catch a couple pressed up against the table’s edge. I back out before I can see exactly what’s going on, but the hair on my neck springs up when the woman makes eye contact with me, her head dropping back like she’s inviting me to watch.

  I swallow and back around the corner, strangely aroused by having walked in on such a thing. The sensation forces me to wonder if I’m more of a deviant than I realized. I wonder what it would be like to go back in, pull up a chair, and drape my fingers between my legs while they continue the show.

  Then again, I don’t really know what is and isn’t okay in this setting. Surely there are unwritten rules that must be followed. Besides, I don’t have the guts to be that bold.

  The truth is I’m mortified to have seen the pleasure in her dark eyes, so I decide now would be a good time to distance myself by heading upstairs.

  I take my time on the wide staircase, though time feels strangely elastic in this place. When I round the corner to the final stretch, I see a broad-shouldered man in a dark suit standing at the top of the stairs with his hands clasped in front of him.

  There’s something ominous about him, and part of me feels the urge to turn right back around, but I’m determined not to appear as freaked out as I feel.

  “Good evening,” he says when I plant a heel on the landing.

  I nod in his direction, startled by how deep his voice is.

  “I suppose congratulations are in order.”

  I tighten my grip on the railing and look at him, keeping my distance. “Pardon me?”

  “I said congratulations.” He steps towards me until I’m dwarfed by his shoulders.

  “For what?”

  “For finding what you’re looking for.”

  He’s so close now I’d have to walk around him to explore the upstairs. “And what makes you think you’re what I’m looking for?”

  The corner of his mouth twitches. “Aren’t I?”

  I don’t know if it’s the way he smells or his deep voice, but I can’t seem to find the words I’m looking for, can’t seem to remember where I was going.

  He holds
out an upturned hand.

  I look from his hand to his eyes, which are so dark I can see my feathery mask reflected in them. I ask myself, ‘What would Ruby do?’ Then I lay my fingers tentatively across his wide palm.

  He leads me towards a closed door to the left of a grandfather clock. Then he turns the knob, pushes it open, and releases my hand so he can gesture for me to enter.

  The bedroom is perfectly made-up, like a Victorian boutique hotel, and dimly lit lamps frame the head of the bed on the other side of the room.

  “Have you been searched?” he asks, locking the door and stepping up to me again where I’ve frozen near the wall, as if the perimeter of the room is somehow the safest place to be.

  “Searched?” I ask.

  He nods.

  I shake my head.

  “Do you mind?” he asks, squaring up to me with his feet shoulder width apart.

  I raise my arms into a T shape.

  He lifts his hands and drags them under my arms slowly.

  “What exactly are you searching me for?” I ask as his hands reach my ribcage.

  He leans forward and whispers in my ear as his hands cup my breasts. “For fun,” he says, his thumbs passing over my nipples.

  My breath hitches in my throat as I realize I’ve allowed this stranger to violate me, and as horrified as I am, I’m curious about how far he’ll go, about how far I’ll go.

  His breath is warm on my ear as he drags his hands down my sides, like he’s sculpting my waist and hips. “I’ve never seen you at one of these before.”

  I lower my arms as he cups my ass gently, grazing but not squeezing. “It’s my first time,” I whisper.

  His fingertips curl around the edge of my dress, and he freezes like he’s fighting within himself.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” I ask, wetting my panties over how close his hands are to the warmth between my legs.

  “I did,” he says, grabbing my pussy and letting one finger press my underwear straight up against my wet slit. “It’s between your legs.”

  I think about pushing him away, but his touch makes a seductive coil of warmth curl in my guts. “My turn,” I say, pushing his hand away so I can breathe again.