Chapter 5
Alana
My campus walk-through with Mair ends near her husband's office.
"Okay. Let's put a pin in the literature wing subject," she says, turning to me.
"What now?" I ask, knowing perfectly well she's about to bring up Lorne Morrison again. She's been pushing me to give him another chance ever since that disastrous blind date.
"Look, I know I keep bringing this up, but please consider giving Lorne another shot. He's definitely the gruff mountain man type, but I promise there's a softer side underneath all that."
"No," I say, unable to swallow my laugh. "I'm sorry, but it's not a good match, Mair. He thinks I'm the scum of the Earth."
"He doesn't think you're the scum of the Earth!"
"Well, maybe not me particularly, but he thinks all billionaires are, and he paints me with the same broad brush. So there you go."
Right then, Murphy walks out of the office and slides an arm around his wife's waist.
"You're not still harassing her about Lorne, are you?" He playfully scolds, and she scrunches her nose at him.
The three of us start walking out of the building.
"Hey, babe. Hold on. The tickets arrived," Murphy says, stopping at his secretary's desk.
Sitting down on a chair outside his office, I check my social media while they handle the tickets.
I hear Murphy mentioning their annual masquerade ball, which I've never been able to attend but have always donated to. Mair glances at me over her shoulder and says something to her husband that I can't quite make out.
Walking over to me, she says, "I have an extra ticket for you for the masquerade ball. I want you to go this year."
Standing in my room at the lodge, I look myself over in the full-length mirror. My dark green tricorn hat with its black feather sits perfectly atop my head, and my forest green crushed velvet mermaid gown hugs every curve. The sweetheart neckline is flattering as I spin in front of the mirror.
I attach my gold chandelier earrings and slide on black opera gloves, then pick up my half-faced Venetian mask in dark emerald with gold filigree from the table.
I'm glad Mair insisted that I finally attend the ball. I feel like a princess in this gorgeous getup.
The ballroom takes my breath away when I step inside. People in gorgeous costumes, all wearing masks, fill it. The atmosphere is magical and mysterious. Mair and Murphy, of course, are seated with people they need to schmooze with at the main table.
Several times during the dinner service, I can't help but look over at the table next to me.
At a nearby table, a man with a short silver beard in a black and gold half-faced Venetian mask talks quietly with his seatmate over dinner.
His costume is simple yet elegant, primarily black with gold accents and a dark green feather sticking out of his black tricorn hat.
Something about him draws my attention his way.
Near the end of the meal, the man catches me staring at him, and I look away, feeling my cheeks burn under the mask. When I peek at him in the corner of my eye, I find that he continues to look at me, and my entire body heats from the attention.
When couples have taken to the dance floor, I quietly sit watching them as I sip my Shiraz. Suddenly, the man who has grabbed my attention all evening is by my side. He bows and asks me for a dance.
"I would love to," I say, offering him my gloved hand.
When he takes it, fiery electric desire seizes my entire body, and I swallow a gasp as I stand. We dance through three songs, my body buzzing with excitement the entire time.
When he asks if I would like to take a walk, I can barely push out the word "yes."
Hand-in-hand, we leave the ballroom and walk down the hallway toward the back patio. I know from previous visits that they keep several fire pits lit on cold evenings. One couple sits in the far corner, but otherwise the patio is empty.
We warm ourselves by a fire pit, and I turn to him, wondering if he'll kiss me. I reach out to softly touch the small area of his face visible beneath the mask, my fingers brushing his groomed silver beard. His lips curve into a smile.
"May I kiss you?" the mysterious man asks.
I nod, unable to speak, and soon his lips are pressed against mine. An electric heat zaps through every nerve ending in my entire body. I pull myself up on my tiptoes, and my arms wrap around his broad shoulders as he presses me against him.
We both breathe out the word "Wow."
Giggling, I say, "Maybe we should take these masks off and actually introduce ourselves properly."
He grins and says, "Yes. That's probably a good idea."
The two of us remove our masks carefully, but I almost drop mine when I gasp.
"Lorne?" I spit out.
"Holy shit," he says, his pale cheeks turning red in the firelight.
"What the hell did you do to your beard?" I say, my mind buzzing with confusion.
"Oh, I had to trim it so that the mask would fit better," he says, absentmindedly rubbing his stupidly handsome face.
"Fuck this. You showed me zero respect at Mare Pacificum."
Without giving Lorne a chance to speak, I jump to my feet and storm off the patio, aware of the couple in the corner watching me leave.
Inside, I speed past the ball, heading to my room.
Once inside, I peel off my clothes and toss them haphazardly on a chair by the fireplace.
After flicking on the gas flames, I grab the complimentary wine bottle from the coffee table and flop down on the couch in my slip, opening it and drinking straight from the bottle.
The firelight flickers as I stare out the window at the light snow falling. I continue drinking the wine as I watch the snowflakes dance in the air, my mind settling into a meditative quiet.
When I'm halfway through the bottle, I still feel buzzed from the evening. It's annoying that my dance partner turned out to be Lorne, but I can't deny the effect he had on me. That my body is still on fire from his touch is something I'm unable to ignore.
As the snow continues to fall outside, I slide my hand down my panties and begin to rub my clit, picturing what it would feel like to have that grumpy mountain man's electric hands on my bare skin, cupping my breasts as he flicks his tongue between each nipple.
He would drop his pants and then unbutton his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs and firm, hairy chest. I'd open my legs for him, ready to take his thick length.
And as he penetrates me, I'd help him enter deeper by wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him close to me.
Lorne's thrusts would make me cry out his name, and imagining him locking eyes with me as he presses his scratchy mouth against mine, I shatter into the fantasy.
My body shudders against the couch as my breaths come out ragged.
Lying there, I slide my hand out of my panties and throw my arm across my face.
What the hell was that?