Page 49 of Liars and Liaisons

And right now, I’m at what feels like the end of my rope. Paranoid, uninspired, and completely alone.

It’s taken me far too long to realize that I don’t actually want to be.

Violet settles back into the water, watching me with a furrowed brow.

“Close your eyes,” I say again.

She does this time, though her shoulders are still tight, eyebrows still taut.

“What do you usually think about when you’re fucking yourself?”

“Do you have to be so crude?”

“I told you, whatever makes you blush.”

Sighing, she slides both hands between her legs, then slips them into the water. My heart pounds a million beats a minute.

“I don’t know. Whatever pops into my head, I guess. Stuff I’ve read in books, movies…”

“Our night together?” I tilt my head, noting the hitch in her breathing. “Do you ever try to remember on your own?”

She doesn’t say anything at first, and I fear I’ve lost it. Lost her.

Then, “Yes.”

It’s so quiet that I almost don’t hear it over the sound of the water rustling around her. She moves back, shifting her chin toward the ceiling. I open my mouth to tell her I want to see one of those hands, but she beats me to the punch, slapping her palm over one full tit.

Silently, she kneads, and I can’t help wondering if the hand I can’t see moves in tandem. My blood boils, and hot, delicious desire electrifies every nerve in my fucking body.

All those nights I spent taking drugs and fucking until I was sick, and I never knew this was what lust was supposed to feel like. I didn’t realize there was a difference between manufactured euphoria and being on the cusp of a violent religious revolution.

“What do you focus on?” I ask, trying to place myself there in her mind. Right now, I want to be wherever the hell she is. “Whatcanyou see?”

“The mask,” she answers instantly.

So instantly that my head jerks back. She almost sounds eager.

“Mine?”

“The goat one. Not the gold devil one you had on last night.”

Interesting. It was clear at the fundraiser that the mask didsomethingfor her, but I wasn’t sure exactly what. Not everyone equates fear and excitement with positivity or pleasure.

I’ve underestimated the vixen.

My fingertips buzz with the urge to smooth up her calves, but I resist. “What about the mask?”

She swallows audibly, and her eyes flicker behind closed lids. Back and forth, back and forth, like a swinging pendulum. Her fingers dig into her flesh, and every fiber of my being wishes it were my hand there instead, pawing at her, making her feel delight.

But for now, I’ll take what I can get.

“You kissed me with it on,” she breathes finally. “And I-I didn’t mind that I wasn’t a hundred percent sure who was underneath the mask. Actually, I liked that I didn’t know.”

“Because…”

Her mouth parts on a sound, half-gasp and half-cry, and she pushes her legs further apart. I can’t see, but I’m certain her fingers move against her clit with fervor, likely matching the tempo of each breath she heaves. “I don’t know why.”

“Because it’s easier when you can’t see, right?” My voice is low, harsh, and I lean in closer so she doesn’t miss a word. “Easier to be anyone or do anything. With a mask, you can enjoy things that don’t look as pretty without. You can pretend. It’s just like dancing in the dark; nothing ever feels the same in the light.”

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