Page 33 of The Masks We Wear

Once the show ended, I assumed Lucy and Mom would be going home but apparently Brody planned to have them here until we leave Nevada which is two days from now. She even went as far as to have Selene book them each a room on our floor of the hotel. They rode to the hotel with us in the limo and the whole time, Lucy was peppering Brody with questions. Lucy has a lot of energy in her and without the proper patience, people can withdraw from her rather quickly and leave her anxious and unconfident in herself. It’s why I worry so much about her. Mom gets irritated and impatient with Lucy often because the thirteen-year-old moves a mile a minute from one thing to the next. Part of me worried Brody wouldn’t understand Lucy and that she would get impatient with her quickly and annoyed, but Brody surprised me by doing the exact opposite.

Every time Lucy rambled from one topic to the next, Brody paid attention and answered Lucy with long answers rather than quick, one-worded answers that signify you aren’t interested in talking. Brody made Lucy feel comfortable, involved, and important and I know that means everything to Lucy and I can surely tell you it means something to me too. Mom, of course, was polite with Brody and engaged in small talk with her, but she was more interested in discussing the eligible bachelors of Hollywood with Aria and Ivory.

When we got to the hotel, Brody informed me she would hang out with Selene so I could have some time with Lucy alone. I played a few games with Lucy, and she ended up crashing and falling asleep in my hotel room in one of the two beds. Mom claimed she was going to bed in her room, but I know she was at the bar in the lobby. I don’t care what she does, I’vegrown to accept that my mother will forever depend on men for everything and that she fears being alone, so much so that she neglects her own children at times. I was happy to be rid of her for a while, thankful to have time with Lucy one on one. I love my sister as if she’s my own daughter. Her father isn’t very involved in her life and my mother is withdrawn. I’m the one that’s been ensuring she gets to school every day, making sure she has money to buy lunch at school, buying her clothes, phones, and anything that puts a smile on her face for years. Lucy needs a stable male figure in her life that she can count on and trust to protect her and that figure is me.

I hear Brody’s door close from across the hall and glance between a sleeping Lucy and my door. It’s past midnight which means Selene most likely deposited Brody in her drug and alcohol-free hotel room and went to bed. This time and experience with Lucy has meant so much to me and I want to thank Brody for it again but I know now isn’t a good time. It’s late.

I change into a pair of loose fitted sweatpants and a t-shirt and lay in my own bed, trying to sleep but it doesn’t come. I toss and turn, trying to stay quiet so as to not disturb Lucy, but no matter how much I move, I can’t sleep. One thing, onepersoncontinues to creep into my mind. Brody Drake. I keep thinking about what she did for me and Lucy today, how perfect she was on stage, and our night in the studio at her home. The thoughts replay in my head at full volume, and suddenly the near silent room seems almost like a house party is at play. I sit up and the noise stops for a split second, the only sound the small breaths Lucy takes in and out.

If I just thank her, I can move on. All I have to do is walk across the hall, say thank you, and turn around and walk away. Then, it’ll all be out of my system and I can move on and go to sleep. Deep down, I know it’s a lie, but I use it as an excuse tosee Brody because for some unknown reason, I have a burning desire to be near her right now.

I leave my room silently, careful not to wake Lucy, and walk across the hall. I knock on her door and when I hear no movement on the other side, regret washes over me and reason comes to play. This is a horrible idea. I turn my back on the door, ready to retreat to my room when her door opens, and I freeze. “Harvey?” Brody’s husky voice questions from behind me.

I slowly turn to face her and feel my cock hardening immediately when my eyes land on her. Her hair no longer has the chains and charms in it, pulled into a low messy bun at the nape of her neck and her face is free of all her makeup. She looks ethereally beautiful, and the sight of her beauty is almost painful. My eyes rove over her and I find her in a tiny pair of red silk sleep shorts and a matching tank top. My gaze homes in particularly on the thin strap of silk that falls off her shoulder and I find my mind working to create images of what her breasts look like beneath the thin fabric, what they feel like.

“Harvey,” she repeats my name though it no longer sounds like a question leaving her lips.

My focus goes to her eyes as I scold myself for falling weak at the sight of her. I force my wall back up as I say coldly, “I wanted to say thank you. For staying with Selene so I could spend time with her.”

Brody nods, a small curve forming on her full lips. “You’re welcome.”

We stare at each other and wait for the other to speak but Brody is of course, as stubborn as ever and leaves the talking to me. “It means a lot to her, so thanks. And also, for what you did in the limo, being patient and engaged with her.”

She raises a confused brow, “Are people often impatient with her?”

My nostrils flare at the memories of teachers, principals, and our mother being impatient with her. “Sometimes. They just don’t understand her. Her mind moves from one thing to the next at the speed of light and it overwhelms a lot of people. They get overwhelmed and then withdraw from her and get irritated with her and she’s old enough to know it.”

Brody frowns, “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, “It’s fine,” I lie, we both know it’s not fine. I just want to be short with her before I do something I’ll regret later like kissing her. I take a step back, ready to walk back to my room but it feels like I have a cinderblock tied to each leg.

“It’s not fine,” Brody sighs, looking at her bare feet. “I know how it feels to not be understood.” A flicker of what looks like sorrow crosses her face before she forces it away and looks back up at me with big blue eyes full of years and years of being misunderstood.

The crease between my eyebrows forms and I take a step closer to her, “I understand you,” is all I say, even though I know at the best of times, I don’t understand why Brody does half the things she does. No, I don’t understand her actions, but I understand the reasoning behind them. She’s been pretending to be someone she isn’t for years and there’s nothing lonelier than that. The problem is that she’s been doing it for so long, she doesn’t know how to stop and she’s scared of what will happen if she does. But I know that if Brody stopped pretending even for five minutes, a weight would be removed from her and she’d feel free. She just doesn’twantto be free yet.

Her lips part and desperation crossed her face before she catches me off guard by fisting my t-shirt and pulling me down so that my lips crash onto hers. The familiarity of her lips and the scent of her flooding my nostrils consumes me and before the voice of reason within me can tell me this is a horrible idea, I push her into her room and close the door behind us. I fisther hair in one hand and pull her head back, angling her face towards mine. The small breath that escapes her lips as our eyes meet and we get lost in each other is soon stolen by my lips reclaiming hers. Our tongues connect and my other hand roams down the side of her body until I cup her ass in one hand. The small moan that escapes her is enough to have me hardening beneath my sweatpants.

I lose control with her, ignoring all logic and promises to stay away from her. I’m too overwhelmed with appreciation for what she’s done for my sister and just all thingsherthat I don’t care about any consequences at this moment. Both my hands grab both sides of her thighs and lift her so that she wraps her legs around my waist and we’re brought to eye level. I walk us to her bed, never breaking our kiss.

She pulls away to catch her breath and smirks, “What happened to last time being a mistake that we never repeat?”

“You happened.” I growl as I toss her onto the bed and lean down over her, propping my elbows up on both sides of her head.

She wraps her arms around my neck and I bring a hand down to feel her breasts through the silky smooth material. Her nipples are pebbled under the fabric and I pinch one to tease her. The noise she makes in response only encourages me further as I slide a hand completely under her shirt, the calloused skin of my palm feeling the bare skin of her breast. I palm her until I get impatient and entirely desperate for more of her and I lift the hem of her top above her head, only breaking the kiss for a split second. She moans as I remove my mouth from hers and trail kisses down her neck until I stop at her bare breasts.

Her nipples are a light brown color, a few shades darker than her sun kissed skin and when my mouth closes over a peak, she cries out. I lick, suck, and palm her breasts, savoring the soundsshe makes in response to me and the way her body reacts to my touch. My hunger for her grows and I become desperate for more of her. I remove my mouth and hover above her lips whispering, “What is it about you that makes it so incredibly hard to stay away?” A hint of irritation laces my tone but not at her, with myself.

She grins, “Probably the same thing that makes it impossible to stay away from you.”

Her response does something to me and I dip a hand into her shorts, beneath her panties until I find the slickness between her thighs. She exhales audibly and arches her back, her brows furrowing with arousal. I know right away that what we’re about to do is a mistake but at this moment, I can’t bring myself to care. I once looked down on Brody for being addicted to substances, but I can no longer look down on her since I’ve become addicted to a substance myself. The substance in question isher.

Brody

HIS FINGERS REENACT WHATthey did to me in my home studio. He finger fucks me into oblivion, all while whispering provocative seditions in my ears that only push me over the edge further. Just when my orgasm is about to find me, he withdraws his fingers and grins into my mouth, “You thought you were gonna come on my fingers again without asking?”

My nostrils flare with my irritation at the ruined orgasm. “Enough of your fucking games. I can make myself come if you won’t.”

The image my threat sends him must arouse him as his hard length presses into my center. He grabs my jaw with a firm grip, “If you want to come, Little Rockstar, you’ll have to ask nicely because the only way you’re coming tonight is if I’m responsible.”

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