Masked Read online

  “Take your pajamas off. And tell me about it.”

  His graveled tone thrilled me. His commanding words moistened every delicate tissue between my thighs. Nevertheless, I retaliated, “I’ll do no such thing.”

  Or…would I? There were a lot of things I’d never done before Killian came into my life.

  “Do it, sweet girl. For me. No one will know.”

  “More secrets? Isn’t that the last thing we need between us?” I said it as I began unbuttoning my top, though I wasn’t about to tell him that—yet.

  “Please, Claire. Are you sure you don’t want to?”

  “Are you sure your middle name isn’t Persistent?”

  He sent over a growling sigh. “Does it excite you to hear me beg?” I could picture his eyes, dark and determined and anything but begging, as he asked it.

  “You could stand on the corner selling hot dogs and I’d be turned on.”

  His rich, full laugh warmed my heart.

  Brakes. Brakes. Who said anything about bringing your heart into this, girlfriend?

  “So what are you doing now?” he inquired.

  “Just finished unbuttoning my top,” I said it with a little gasp as his lusty grunt filled the line. As usual, I couldn’t resist him for long. “Now I’ve let it drop open. Your turn, Stone. What’s your next move?”

  “Fuck.”

  “Not exactly possible.”

  “Oh no?” He chuckled again, but the sound was guttural with lust. “Mentally, I’m preparing to fuck you right now, fairy. I’m remembering how it felt to prepare you. How your tight, erect nipples felt in my fingers and in my mouth.” His heavy breaths vibrated across the miles. “Do you remember how responsive your tits were for me, Claire? How your nipples turned hard as stones as I licked and sucked them?”

  “Mmmm.” The sound careened up my throat, high with desperation. “Yes, Killian. I remember.”

  “Touch yourself now and pretend it’s my hands on you.”

  “Ohhhh…”

  “Are you doing it?”

  “Yes,” I rasped. “Oh yes, Killian.” I closed my eyes and slid a hand across my chest, seeking out the nipples that ached for attention. The nubs greeted my touch with rock-hard arousal, poking between my fingers. I tightened my grip, rolling the peaks brutally, reliving the pleasure I felt when Killian pulled at them, stunning me to deeper arousal with the tiny jabs of pain. I sucked in my next breath and forced myself to squeeze harder.

  “You’re pinching your nipples, aren’t you?” he charged.

  “M-Maybe. A little.”

  “Or a lot?” He sounded amused, in all the sexiest ways. “It’s all right, fairy. I remember that sound well. It’s stamped in my memory. When I close my eyes, I can see the look on your face too. Do it again, baby.”

  I obeyed at once. Arousal sparked through me, brighter than all the neon in the city beyond the windows. “Killian…yessss…”

  “I know, baby. I know.” He groaned low once more, capping it off with a sharp hiss of his own.

  “What about you?” Though my room was dark and no one could hear me, I whispered the words. The moment felt exquisitely intimate. “Are you touching yourself too?”

  “The whole fucking army of this country couldn’t stop me,” he returned. “Claire…you have no idea…every morning I wake up with a hard-on so painful even the shower doesn’t settle me. It’s because I wake up thinking of you.”

  My hand stilled. I dipped my head, rubbing it against my phone like a damn star-struck teenager. “Killian…”

  You have to stop saying things like that.

  Don’t ever stop saying things like that.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing to me. I don’t even know if I want to know. It’s some crazy Claire spell…”

  I punched out a little laugh. “Some crazy what?”

  “I just know I never want to wake up from it,” he went on. “I think about you constantly. I hardly think of anything else. I’m stroking myself now, insane from this shit. I’m rock hard…insane to be inside you again. When I finally get there, I’m going to spend hours on you, baby. I’m going to pleasure you in so many ways—”

  “And you too,” I interjected. “You get fulfillment too?”

  “Hell yes. I want to take you hard, from behind. I picture your pussy riding my shaft while I explore your beautiful asshole with my finger. After I’ve come inside you like that, I can’t wait to watch you wrap your pouty mouth around my cock before taking me deep in your throat.”

  My lungs gave me air in ragged spurts. Dear God, the havoc this man wreaked on my body with a few growled words. “You’ve— You’ve been putting a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?”

  “Mild understatement.” As he paused, I heard the sound of flesh sliding on flesh. The strokes corresponded to his heavy huffs on the line. “What are you doing now?”

  “Kicking off my pants.”

  “And those sexy tube socks?”

  “Those too.”

  “Goddamn.”

  “I’m naked now, Killian. I’m lying on my bed, hot and achy. My pussy is bare and open and waiting for you.”

  “Taunting temptress.”

  “I’m sorry…”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “You’re right.” I sighed into the line. “I’m not sorry. Just warm and wet, with a quivering, needy clit. Tell me what to do, Mr. Stone.”

  “Don’t be coy, Miss Montgomery. You know exactly what to do. Rub that gorgeous pussy of yours. Pretend your finger is my tongue, sucking at every bit of you there. Do you remember how it felt when I tasted your flesh for the first time?”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” My voice was breathy and shameless as I slipped my hand between my thighs. The moist folds of my sex waited, pulsing in readiness when my fingers made contact. I keened softly, answered by the increased tempo of Killian’s breathing. I could tell he was pumping his cock ruthlessly now. With increasing speed, I circled my swollen bud before pressing in, spiking the thrill at my core.

  “Killian…”

  “Yeah?”

  “It feels so good. Touch me some more.” I released my imagination to our fantasy. In my mind, his hands were all over my skin, his mouth covering mine, pulling the air from my lungs and the thoughts from my head.

  How the hell had this happened? For ten days, I’d been so careful to keep these memories locked away, but in less than fifteen minutes, he’d hauled all of them out of my mind, beyond my control.

  “Talk to me,” he ordered. “Tell me everything, Claire. Tell me exactly how you want me.” He panted like he’d just sprinted through the Beijing pollution.

  “Inside me.” Stressing about the dream wasn’t going to erase it now. I bucked my hips, surrendering to the power our words created. “Please, Killian. I’m spreading my legs farther for you. Fill me with your cock.” I slipped my middle finger into my channel, thick cream coating me right away. “Ohhhh, God.”

  His answer gave life to the panther I always likened him to. “Slide a finger into your cunt, sweet girl.”

  My breath clutched. I tried to laugh. His nasty words turned my senses upside down and my sex to pure butter. “One step ahead of you,” I replied.

  “Then add another.”

  As I followed his dictate, my breathing sped up to match his. I slowly worked both digits in, gasping as pressure and lust pulsed through me. This had to be one of the dirtiest things I’d ever done—and because of the strength in Killian’s presence, even from the other side of the world, I reveled in every illicit moment of it.

  “I’m so wet for you,” I whispered to him. “My pussy walls are so tight. They’re clamping down on me, just like they’d squeeze your cock while you fuck me…”

  “Damn. Damn, girl, I love your naughty mouth. Keep talking. I’m so close, Claire.”

  “Me too. Don’t leave me like this, so hot and needy. I need more of you, Killian. More of your body filling mine, more of your cock fuck
ing me hard.” As the words left my lips, my mind lived out the fantasy. I imagined his thighs encased by mine, his shoulders straining with each fierce thrust, the rugged plateaus of his face etched with passion. “Take me with you,” I begged between heavy gasps. “Let’s come together.”

  “Oh baby, it’s good. So…fucking…good.”

  “Mmmm…hmmm.”

  We groaned, moaned, gasped, and grunted together. Miles apart…breaths apart.

  “Come for me, Claire.”

  “Yes…”

  “Say my name again. Scream it as you explode for me.”

  “Oh yes, Killian. Yessss…” My lungs held the rest of it, too selfish to free my breath, afraid to acknowledge the cataclysm about to strike my body and carry me away.

  “Now, Claire!” It was a grinding growl.

  “Oh…Killian…”

  Then I was mute. Lost to the pleasure traveling through my torso and out of my limbs. The orgasm rocked me for what felt like forever yet ended all too soon. I floated back to my bed in the dark, sucking air through my nose, trying to settle my breathing—when I remembered the phone in my hand.

  Shit.

  Embarrassment flattened my pleasure. I slammed a hand to my forehead. What the hell had I just done? My thrumming body and vibrating pussy provided the glaring answer to that. Once again, that man had smashed past my barriers and made me fly in skies I’d never imagined in my life.

  Phone sex. With my boss.

  It had been fucking fantastic.

  And completely inappropriate.

  It’s a little late to be concerned about appropriate behavior here, Claire.

  There was telling silence from Killian’s end of the call. Seven thousand miles stretched farther with every second that passed…and every minute of wordless silence that we allowed. God. I could practically see his uncomfortable scowl, even in the gloom of my room. I could sure as hell feel his uneasiness—as well as my own mortification and self-doubt.

  One of us had to say something. “Well, ahhh…I need to be up in four hours, so…I hope the rest of your day goes well, and…umm…” I picked at the sheets, stumbling for something droll but instead blurting, “Thanks?”

  He grunted hard. “Thanks?”

  I prayed for a freak interruption in our connection. No such luck. “Sorry. I forgot to read Miss Manners the day she addressed correct follow-up for phone fornication.”

  “Why are you being so odd?”

  “What’s your point? This whole thing is odd, Killian.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.” His voice was quiet.

  “Of course it does.” The words and tone were pure bitch, but the man had me tied up in enough knots to justify it. “Everything with you just…is.”

  “That’s not fair.” Now he sounded wounded, and I wished I could take my words back. The “odd” in this equation wasn’t solely his fault. That meant the knots weren’t, either.

  “You’re right,” I mumbled. “I apologize. I’m just really tired.”

  “Are you sure that’s it?”

  Great. He had to pick now to convert his take-no-prisoners Attila into a cable-sweatered sweetheart.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I’m going to hang up. I’ll—I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Have sweet dreams, baby.”

  “Have a good day, Mr. Stone.”

  I pressed the End button before an electron of his hurt could invade the line—or an ounce more of my remorse could crush my chest. Could I have concluded our conversation with more callousness? But what alternatives did I have, aside from spilling the tears that slid down my cheeks now, spurred by the confusion that crushed me all over again?

  I’d violated my own mandate. Let myself give in to the man again. The tryst on his plane was supposed to be the dessert I sampled just once, a sin never to be repeated, a secret never to be discovered. Staying out of jail was damn good motivation for the resolve. Keeping my heart intact was a better reason. Maintaining my sanity was the best of all.

  Because this person I became around Killian…she was not logical. Or sensible. Or safe. She wasn’t the Claire I knew, who damn well knew the difference between sex and attachment, who kept her heart and soul away from a man’s pretty words and whispered seductions. A Claire who was missing so blatantly now I contemplated slapping her face on a milk carton.

  Trouble was…I liked the new Claire.

  The bigger trouble? She wasn’t new at all. I’d seen her before. She’d trusted a man named Nick McCoy and had ended up with a torched heart and a blackmail threat because of it.

  This was a mess.

  But moping in bed wasn’t going to make it any better, despite the temptation to order everything from the room-service menu with chocolate on it, along with a box of tissues and the newest Nicholas Sparks release on my e-reader. I forced myself out of bed and slunk down the hall for some ice to jam over my puffy eyes, not even looking forward to my normal work-until-I-dropped therapy. Every minute of every task would only remind me of Killian.

  The sun wasn’t up yet, and my day was already screwed.

  * * *

  It was almost time to let out a breath of relief.

  The gala was in full swing, and Trey was the epitome of a reformed rake, thank God. We’d spent the last three days coaching him on behavior, attitude, and etiquette, especially with the media. Now, the press all but swarmed him, eating from the palm of his manicured hand.

  I looked on with pride, a tiny part of me even wishing Killian were here to see his brother’s transformation. Since I’d severed every communication with the man except the bare minimum required to give him project updates, I didn’t know the details behind his delay returning from Beijing, only that he’d told Andrea some suppliers needed extra attention and he didn’t feel optimistic about making it to the gala in time.

  I snorted softly to myself. “Suppliers.” My ass.

  As soon as I indulged in the doubt, I mentally kicked myself. You walked off that plane swearing you’d both gotten what you wanted and were done. But then you got naked for him again, those seven thousand miles be damned, before flipping the tables on him again and damn near hanging up in his ear.

  So who’s the rightful winner of the mixed-signals trophy, Claire?

  Michael couldn’t have picked a better moment to appear, ready for me to hand off the “Trey Watch” duties. After giving a glowing report, I excused myself to get another drink from the bar, admiring how the gala committee had transformed the Peninsula Hotel’s ground floor in keeping with their theme, A Wild Night at the Ball. In a nutshell, it was Cinderella goes to the jungle, complete with palace walls draped in tropical vines and a midnight-countdown clock fashioned out of stacked tribal drums and palm fronds.

  Despite the opulence of the surroundings, I was relieved the night would be over soon, allowing me to cab-it back to our hotel—and my private misery. The last few days had been hell. The press had glommed on to Killian’s trip to China like moss, meaning I’d seen more pictures of the Stone brothers in the past two weeks than I had in my entire life. The realization made me shoot a morose grin at the floor. Hell. If I could move better in the bodice of this gown, a clingy one-shouldered Grecian in light blue, I’d give myself a pat on the back. We’d come to do a job, and everything couldn’t be going better. Killian was a media darling, with his brother as the next obvious contender for the position. Almost. Wooten still hadn’t made a move with legal proceedings, so we all continued to hold our breath. Tonight’s success would help our efforts along for days.

  I leaned against the bar to accept a fresh glass of chardonnay, attempting to relax a little while watching an older couple glide by on the dance floor, lost in each other’s eyes. Now all I had to do was ignore the pang in my heart that followed.

  “You’re getting ridiculous.” I fired the reprimand at myself from locked teeth. What was next? Bursting into tears if the band started a sappy tune? Returning to my room and crying over the life-insurance commercials? />
  More couples danced by. I focused on the women’s beautiful gowns—and the gorgeous shoes beneath—as the minutes seemed to drag by. When the band brought the song to a melodic ending, the crowd submitted a round of well-deserved applause.

  Only then did I notice a strange stillness in the room. While the band prepared for their next song, nobody left the dance floor. Couples at the tables leaned and whispered to each other.

  Panic fluttered in my stomach. The night had been going so well. If Trey blew things now, I envisioned Andrea ordering an emergency castration for the guy. Surreptitiously, I peered around. The cognizance wasn’t just mine. More members of the crowd, mostly the women, traded eager murmurs as their stares turned the same direction. I pushed from the bar and turned to follow suit.

  And instantly gave up the air in my lungs.

  The ballroom’s grandly decorated entrance framed a late arrival to the party, straightening the cuffs on his tailored tuxedo without surrendering an inch of his towering, proud stance. Without a doubt, he was the most perfect man I’d ever laid eyes on.

  Killian.

  He didn’t linger in the doorway very long—especially after he spotted me. Those endless legs burst into powerful motion, carrying him closer by the second.

  I tried to swallow but couldn’t. He consumed every second of my attention. I yearned to—needed to—run, but my feet suddenly felt formed of lead.

  I can’t do this. Not in public. Not with you here, Killian—please.

  Though I tried to plead to him with my eyes, he didn’t falter in his approach. His steps were broad and determined, his smile a grim curve, his gaze zeroed right in on me. It felt like the entire room was gawping at us now. With every step he closed in, heat crept deeper into my chest and cheeks. My heartbeat cranked to Mach ten.

  How did he do this to me? After all the events of the last two weeks, how could he do this to me? It wasn’t fair. He was magnificent and flawless. I was speechless and dizzy. The condition worsened as he stopped, mere feet away.

  Had an angel manifested in the middle of the room and flown to me, I would’ve been less dazzled. Every detail about him seared my senses. The shine of his hair, slicked back from his face in formal fashion. The scent of his cologne, Mediterranean and musky. The way every thread of his tux seemed fashioned just for him. Even the buttons on his crisp white shirt had black onyx covers, perfectly matching his eyes.