Page 46 of The Masks We Wear

“Always so observational. I’m impressed,” I compliment him.

He reaches back into the bag, “There’s more,” he says as he removes a scratchy looking gray cardigan, a pair of skinny jeans with not one rip in them, black framed glasses, and a brown wig.

He holds the items out to me and I frown as I look at them. “What the fuck is that?” I point at the clothes like they’re toxic.

He snorts a laugh, “Clothes.”

I cross my arms over my chest, “Yeah maybe for someone’s grandma but not me.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s the point. It’s a disguise.”

“A disguise?” I ask, doubtfully. “What is this, a fucking Fast and Furious movie?”

He gives me an impatient look, “No this is me wanting to take you out without cameras and paps following us around.”

My lips part. That’s actually pretty sweet. “When?”

He checks his watch and then smirks, “Half past right after I fuck that attitude out of you,” he jokes but before I can react, he grabs me by my hips and tosses me onto the bed. I giggle as I land on a pile of pillows and he crawls into the bed to hover over me.

He kisses me hard and I kiss him back with just as much need. No amount of time with him will ever feel like enough and every time he touches me, it still feels just as good as it did the first time. In a matter of seconds, he’s torn my clothes off my body and exposed me to him. He rolls a condom onto his impressive length and slides his tip through my already soaked folds. He lubricates himself with my arousal and presses the tip against my entrance to tease me. “Sometimes I think you give me attitude on purpose just so you can get fucked.”

I smirk, “You wouldn’t be wrong.”

He tisks, “Such a bad girl.”

He leaps off me, removing the rest of his clothes, and standing at the side of the bed. Once he’s fully naked, I grip his length in my fist and start working him. He groans as my hand moves up and down his shaft, “Fuck.”

“Take the condom off and let me taste you,” I demand. He’s licked and sucked me so many times and I’ve never returned the favor. He’s never asked or expressed interest in me using my mouth.

He removes my hand from his shaft and strokes himself, “Not now. I’m too impatient. I need to fuck you before I explode inside this condom,” he practically growls and I’m about to push him, ready to argue that he’s made me come countless times with his mouth but never let me give him the same pleasure, but he silences me by catching me completely off guard. He grips my hips and drags me to the edge of the bed, pushing my thighs apart. With one beautiful, heady thrust, he pushes all the way inside me and I cry out at the feeling of being full of him.

He reaches between us and grips my wrists tightly in his palms while he develops a rhythm, pushing in and out of me. He holds my wrists in place as he pounds into me and the feeling of giving up all control to him ignites a fire within me. I’m so used to vanilla, boring sex that sex with Harvey has changed and ruined me entirely. I’ll never be the same or want the same from anyone else. It willalwaysbe him I think of.

His skin slaps against mine and the sound is so beautiful to me. “You still feel like being a brat?”

I moan, “No.”

“Good girl,” he growls as he pushes deeper and deeper. I feel an orgasm building inside of me within minutes and he releases my wrists in favor of stroking my clit instead. He sends me over the edge and I tighten around him as my orgasm rushes through me.

He moans and pulls out of me, repositioning us so that I’m on my belly. He climbs on the bed and uses his knee to part my thighs. He lifts my hips slightly and places a pillow beneath them before sliding back inside me in one delicious thrust. I moan at the feel of him. He resumes his previous pace, driving into me like a madman and already I feel another orgasm building. He grabs the back of my neck in a claiming grip, “You feel so fucking good squeezing my cock when you come on it, Baby.”

His filthy words throw me over the edge and I come around him again, my moans muffled by the pillows. He growls and stops moving, his orgasm finding him at the same time. He spills into the condom, still inside me and pulls out only a second later, his body falling on top of mine. He wraps his arms around me and strokes my hair as he rolls onto his side. I place my head on his chest and we both sit in silence, panting and trying to catch our breath.

When we’ve both regulated our breathing, he kisses myforehead and whispers against my skin, “Get dressed, we’re going out and you aren’t Brody Drake, rockstar and public enemy number one tonight.”

Harvey

“I CAN NOT GOout like this,” she complains from inside the bathroom. I’m still not entirely sure why she felt the need to get dressed in a separate room considering I’ve been inside her and seen her naked countless times, but I have a suspicion it’s because the clothes and the wig are making her self-conscious.

I roll my eyes as I button up the last button of my white dress shirt. My routine has been thrown completely off kilter this week because of her. I used to have a strict regimen that I followed but then enter Brody Drake and I’m finding myself voluntarily choosing not to follow my routine in favor of spending time with her, whether it be in the form of morning sex or just cuddling.Cuddling. Can you believe it? I’ve never cuddled or had a desire to cuddle with anyone. Sex to me has always been a transaction of sorts. Both parties enter willingly, both parties exit after feeling fulfilled, and both parties never speak again in fear of growing attached. It seems I’ve said “to hell” with all of my rules and values because of her and I can’t say I’m mad at it. Besides, our time together is limited and in just a few more weeks, I won’t have her at all. I’d rather not regret not spending enough time with her and focusing too much on my routine because soon enough, we’ll both go back to our separate worlds and we’ll never see each other again.

The thought sends a burn to my chest that I rub with hard fingers and try my best to ignore. It can never be anything serious between us. We live separate lives, come from different worlds, and aside from the fact that we’re opposites in every way, I couldneverlive in the spotlight. I’ll take advantage of the time we have left and then after that I can go back to my strictroutine and values. For now though, I really need her to hurry up and get out of the bathroom. “Stop being ridiculous, Brody. Get out here,” I command her, raising my voice.

I hear a loud grown and a mutter of “fucking guy” before the bathroom door slides open and she steps out. My jaw drops when my eyes land on her. I can’t help but burst into laughter. She doesn’t seem to like my reaction much because she reaches for a discarded shoe on the floor and tosses it at me. It bounces right off my chest and doesn’t phase me. I only continue laughing. “Fuck you!”

“You’ve already done that,” I tease. My eyes rove over her and I slide my phone out to snap a picture before it’s too late. She gasps when she catches me and demands I delete it but I put it back in my pocket, determined to make that my lock screen. The sight is just too good. She looks absolutely nothing like herself. Brody never wears clothes that don’t reveal even a sliver of skin so seeing her in a cardigan and non-ripped jeans is a sight for sore eyes. Paired with the large framed glasses on her face and the straightened head of dark hair that isn’t hers, she looks like a stranger. I guess the disguise idea may work after all. I had my doubts about it but I was willing to take whatever risks necessary to give her just one night away from the press, and free of the paps that harass her. She deserves it after everything she’s been through.

She crosses her arms over her chest and pouts, looking very much like an angry child. “I can not leave like this.”

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