“Same,” she said, hopping up and lowering her dress back down.
We both bowed to the standing ovation and made our leave toward the exit.
“That was quite the performance!” a unicorn-masked lady said as we rushed past her.
We didn’t stop to thank her.
The moment we hurled ourselves back into the limo, we both began clutching at our masks.
“Mine’s not budging! Shit! I think my head grew bigger, or my mask shrank! I’m stuck.” I pulled at my mask until it hurt. My breathing hadn’t slowed since I fucked Samantha back on the couch-bed thing.
“It’s because of the sweat. It’s harder to pull off now. Here, let me help. Don’t freak out! You’re going to make it worse!” She sat on my lap and tugged at my mask with no luck. “Well, you’re going to have to live in it, Juan Dicko!”
“Fuck that. You pull that side, and I’ll pull this side.”
I slipped both hands under my mask, and with Samantha’s help, we popped it off. I had never felt freer in my life. I gulped in the fresh air.
“Hey.” She cupped my sweaty face in her palms and smiled at me.
“Hey.” I smiled right back at her.
“You put on quite the act back there. I think that’s my favorite Victor performance yet. Now, I have a good memory for the memory bank. Cancels out the other ones. Thank you.”
I brushed her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear before kissing her forehead. “We’re just getting started.”
“Hey, Victor?” She bit her lip and pinched her necklace between her fingertips, tugging it back and forth across her collarbone.
“Hmm?” I searched her fluttering eyes.
“I wanted to tell you … just not back there in that place … or with those masks. I think you should know … that I love you too.”
If I sold ten million cases of rum, joined the circus, or lived the rest of my life without a mask, I still wouldn’t be as happy as I was at that very moment. Samantha Masson—the perfectionist from hell, my uptight and meticulous event planner, my sweet kitten, my masked fantasy, my dirty little secretary, my everything—had just told me that she loved me too.
“Ready to start on those ten kids then?” I ran my hands up her thighs and gave her ass a firm squeeze.
Nine
Samantha
Victor, Victor, Victor.
I fantasized about him damn near every hour. I couldn’t get him out of my head. We’d spent every day together since our wrestling night at the club. That evening had ended in a lovemaking session back at my place—sans wrestling masks. And, yes, it had been a lovemaking session because we both admitted that an asshole-in-chief got along quite well with a stuffy event planner. I had goo-goo eyes, and he had goo-goo eyes. We were screwed.
“What the hell?” he said mid-fuck.
The birds sang out, and that pervy parrot began to bark orders.
“I told you my neighbor liked to perform too—just in front of a flock.”
“I thought you were joking! I thought birds were some type of code word for some kinky shit! Not actual birds!”
He kept slowly moving inside of me, kissing my temples, forehead, lids, lips, and everywhere else that had been rubbed raw by the Mexican head condom.
“My brain is creative but not that creative! Or …creepy!”
“Squawk! Victor! Squawk!” the parrot called.
My neighbor screamed for his pet—and us—to shut up.
Victor stopped moving again and cocked his head to the side. “How does that bird know my name?” he asked.
“This isn’t the best time to tell you … but remember when I said Sara was dating my neighbor?”
He recoiled but remained inside me, still as hard as ever. “Gross. Don’t say her name while we’re doing this! Ugh!”
“You asked! The bird knows your name because she shouted it while she was screwing my neighbor.”
“Wait. Hold on. Are you serious? How do you know it was her?”
“Because I saw her in the hallway. She told me to fuck off. I also recorded it. Want to hear?” I reached over to my nightstand for my phone.
“No! No! No! Hell no. Ugh, I feel sick.”
“Want to stop then?” I ran my hand through his hair and pulled myself up to kiss him.
“Pfft. Yeah, right.” He shoved himself in deeper.
I stood in the middle of the venue and watched the workers hang silks from the ceiling, creating a big-top illusion. The event would be perfection. The tables had been set up and decorated, the lighting and sound installed, and the performers had been practicing here since yesterday. I had booked several clowns, mimes, two aerial performers to hang around on steel cubes, and the tigers. Fleur-De-Lis and Victor would be impressed.
“Hey you! This is freaking great!” Lisa elbowed me in the ribs.
“Oh, hey! Thanks! How’s your end coming along? Are you going to be able to handle all of this tomorrow? You know I’ll be here for you. I’ll help with anything!”
“It’s all been taken care of. I hired extra staff. Besides, I thought you might enjoy the party with your new man.” She leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest, smiling.
“What new man? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Bull honky! You do too! You have never smiled so much in your life.”
“All right, all right. I do have a new man. But … I can’t tell you who he is … yet.” I shrugged.
“Oh my gosh, I know him? Are you having an affair with Pete? Is it … no, you wouldn’t. You’re not back with …”
I threw my hands in the air. “How dumb do you think I am?”
“Sorry! You’re not dumb. I’m curious now though.” She looked up, tapping her chin.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow. Maybe even have him tell you … at the party.”
“I’m counting on it, lady. I want to know what kind of man makes you this happy!”
I smiled, feeling the weight of the phantom necklace on my chest, tucked securely under my shirt.
“Definitely not the type of man I thought, but he is amazing. A showstopper!”
“Is that so? Well, if you two want to start things off hot and heavy, I could let you in on a little secret. You can really make him a showstopper.”
“Go on.” I nodded.
“Well, since I’ve been divorced, I’ve been trying to broaden my horizons. I have been letting loose and living out my college years that I never got to live out because I was too damn busy with work and kids.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and back again.
“Uh-huh.” I grinned.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is … don’t judge me.”
“You know me better than that!”
“I know. But I just have to say it, so I don’t sound like such a slut. It’s for my benefit, not yours.”
“I don’t judge. Promise. But now, I’m curious.”
“There’s this place. A club. A swingers club. I’ve met both men and women there, and let me tell you, best sex of my life. No strings attached! I don’t have to wash a man’s dirty underwear or cook him a pot roast. I go in there, bang, and leave happy. No bullshit after! No pillow talk or any of that crap. I can sleep in peace in my bed without listening to an old man snoring. It’s great for couples or singles, but it’s kind of hard to get into. You have to be screened.”