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She would have left had she not felt the heartbeat of the building pulsing under her hand. Standing in an elaborate peacock costume in front of a dilapidated warehouse, she thought how ridiculous she must look. But, she reminded herself, inhibited women do not stand on public streets in feathers. Her ex obviously was wrong about her. She could and would change. Balling her fingers into a fist, she rapped at the door feeling ready to retreat if not quickly answered. Three feet from the wet asphalt, a white theater mask with an elongated nose revealed itself through a small window. Two brown eyes rolled over her as she held up the invitation.
She found the invitation wedged in the back of the drawer that had once contained her former boyfriend's clothes. It'd been a couple of months since she dumped those items into a garbage bag and thrown them at him as he walked into the apartment they had shared. Closing her eyes, she could still remember the image of a nude female smiling as she intertwined around her ex-lover's frame. The asshole had actually taken photographs of his affairs. Finding a whole scrapbook, she flipped through his indiscretions one page at a time. The sound of the door sliding open released her from the familiar path her mind was wandering.
She stared down at the figure in the doorway. The white mask fit oddly on the oversized head of a dwarf in a tuxedo with a top hat. Accustomed to people staring, the dwarf narrowed his hardened eyes. He reached out his tiny white-gloved hand in expectation.
"Excuse me?" She could not take her eyes off the hat that almost doubled his height.
"Card, Lady." His voice was deep with unusual pitch changes.
"I'm sorry. I ..."
"Nobody gets to keep 'em. Host decides who comes back or not," he responded, beckoning the invitation.
"Yes, of course, I was just going ask..."
"No answers here, Ma'am. Don't see nothing. Don't know nothing." The rude little man pulled the invitation free.
She opened her mouth to ask again about the place she had just entered, but he motioned her away. Soddering off to a small stool by the door, he faded into the shadows. Alone, she walked deeper into the lush hall. Stubbing her toe on a stone planter, Melody steadied herself against the plush purple wallpaper silently cursing. With the other hand, she reached down to rub her injury before moving away from the guilty Kentia palm tree. She looked about the foyer to consider the contrast between the neglected facade and the rich interior. Melody knew the anxiety little Alice in Wonderland must have felt falling down the rabbit hole. She was experiencing the same sensation being crowded by her costumed likeness trapped in various mirrors hanging at odd heights on the walls. Fleeing to the end of the hall, she pushed back the heavy parlor curtains to the main room. The massive ballroom projected a scene that could have been straight out of a medieval masquerade ball if not for Evanescene's song "Bring Me to Life" pouring through the modern sound system.
A fever enveloped the menagerie of costumed strangers dancing as the singer's lyrical plead echoed the beat of their steps. Like a diamond cut of rainbows, the disco ball rained down a thousand droplets of light. Silhouettes flickered against the walls as smoke curled about the floor. Swollen metallic balloons bounced over Fairytales figures brought to life by sequins, feathers and beads.
Many in attendance chose beautiful costumes of angels, princesses, and knights. Others were wanton and wild in animalistic attire. Few dressed in a more peculiar and strange styles. Even fewer were frightening and downright morbid as if finding delight in the freak-show attractions of old time carnivals. They turned, moved and danced like they were caught in a dream.
A nervous anticipation percolated in her stomach. Standing at the entrance, she recalled the words from the invitation: "Incognito: Mask & Costume Required. Invitation only". Not in her wildest dreams would she have imagined that her impromptu decision would lead to this. Knowing her ex, she would have guessed the invitation would have led to some private uptown spot. She figured she'd get a taste of the dark side with few witnesses. She would prove to herself that he had been wrong about her. She was no prude. She just needed to find something to set her free. Now here, she would have never thought a place like this existed. Strangely, it seemed like the key she was looking for to unlock herself.
People must have come from all over as hundreds packed the main room. Spiral staircases led up to metal grate balconies containing even more partygoers. It was like the whole city was packed inside of the club. The decadence mesmerized Melody freezing her at the door. She had definitely found her way into a Wonderland, though not Alice's. It was a playground for adults freeing the participants to be whatever their heart desired.
She had chosen to be a beautiful bird. A glorious peacock tail that spread out around her like starshine surrounded her shapely body. Each feather cast the sparkle of fireworks. Tied around her dark hair, a bird mask shielded half her face. The yellow beading of the small curved beak brought out her amber eyes making their cat shape look more exotic.
Suddenly, a hand reached out and pulled her into the crowd before she could react. The man who grabbed her hand was an incredible sight. A red feather plume shot from the side of his crimson hat as large as his shoulders were broad. Standing six feet five inches tall, he wore a renaissance-style jacket and fitted pants in the gaudiest of red velvet. A gold cloak rippled in the air over his left shoulder as they danced. She was taken back by the contrast of the mask, as he pulled her close. Instead of feathers or simple silk, he wore a grotesque partial skull that covered the top of his face. Fascinating and horrific, the mask begged her to reach out and touch the monstrosity.
"Lovely tail." His rich baritone voice relaxed her as he spoke directly into her ear. He maneuvered his hand close to the small of her back, drawing near to the feathers blooming from the curve of her bottom.
"You like it?" She purred enjoying the warmth of his touch.
"What?" He shouted back with a smile.
"YOU LIKE IT?" she raised her voice over the noise.
"Oh, I do," he said. "Are you here with anyone?"
"No," she answered enjoying the flicker of light in his eyes.
"Who brought you here?" he asked his interest growing. "How do you know about my establishment?"
"Your establishment?" She asked surprised. "You own this place? What is it?"
"Heaven for sinners," he winked back.
"Seriously?" she spoke in the direction of his ear as he folded her back into his arms. Her hands sliding down his arms feeling the masculine ridges.
"What did you think it was?" His mouth pulled slightly to the right creating a dimple in his cheek.
Her mind failed her as to give her a clever response. The motion of their bodies took the words from her mouth. Pressed against the velvet expanse of his solid chest, she felt the heat of attraction making her glow.
"You know where you are, right? Why they come here?" the edges of his mouth fell as he straightened to his full height.
"No," she said dismissively back despite his changing demeanor.
"Where did you get an invitation?" he asked a little too seriously.
"My ex's drawer. I found it and thought..." her words pinched off by the grip of his hand pulling her from the dance floor.
"You shouldn't be here. Do you want to get into trouble?" his voice demanded a response.
"I'm not a child. Take your hands off on me," she snapped, pulling her arm free from his grasp. "So, I crashed your fancy dress up party. For fuck sake, I'll just leave. You don't have to be a condescending asshole. I've had all of that I can take lately."
He paused and a grin slowly crawled back across his lips.
"Ex, huh, you come here checking up? Wanting to see who he's bangin' now?" he laughed enjoying his little joke at her expense. "He liked getting a little bit of the strange on the side then?"
"Don't laugh at me," she glared back at his mocking. She fought the urge to smack the mask off his smug face. "What my ex did or didn't do is none of your damn business."
"Oh, so sorry," he seemed only half-sincere. "Maybe you didn't know?"
"I'm not an idiot," she spit out her contempt. The talk of her ex had made her temper a little quicker then normal.
"No, of course not." He lost his smile for a brief moment. "Let's start again. You have a lovely tail. I've always been a fan of peacocks."
She had forgotten about her attire. Her hand went unconsciously to the turquoise feathers closely intertwined over her bustier that matched her black thong.
"Really," she cooed, "Why don't I give you a better look?"
She spun slowly letting his eyes take in every sparkling detail. Feeling more like a lioness then a peacock, she strutted, enjoying his apparent admiration. She was attracted to the man even if his attitude could use some work. After all, she came here to exercise some carnal demons, not to find her Prince Charming. Tonight, she would drink deeply from the well of earthly pleasures and let reason shine its caustic light in the morning.
"Now, I stay," her words were more a statement then a question.
"Yes, but I don't believe you are fully aware of..."
"I am fully aware of you," she slid closer not wanting to leave.
"As I am you. However, I need to know was really brought you here, if not spying on the ex?" he eyed her curiously.
"Honestly, I don't know..to be someone else for a little while? Do something wild?"
"Ahhh, I see." He shook his head in agreement with her statement.
"Yes," she hesitated, "What exactly is this place?"
"Think of it as a house of fantasy."
"I see," she looked about the large room not really catching his full meaning. "Are there drinks in this house?"
He waved at a curvy cat woman with ebony skin holding a tray. The leather-clad feline blew off a muscular Egyptian jackal to whom she had been speaking. Stretching out her long legs, her stiletto heels carried her to his side. Standing a little too close, her long nails traced his shoulder as she brushed her large breast against him as he spoke. Melody could understand the woman's reaction. His fitted pants outlined his muscular thighs and buttocks in a way that would make a nun break her vows. Narrow at the waist, the lines of his body expanded outward to accommodate a well-developed chest and shoulders. Drawing her eyes upward, she judged his hair to be longer then average and unruly. His hat and ears seemed to be fighting to keep raven tangles in their place. Obtaining two glasses of red wine, he turned his back to a very displeased pussycat. Melody half expected the woman to hiss at her. Instead, the slighted kitty slinked back into the crowd stealing glances as she left.
"So, why costumes?" Melody queried watching the retreating cat tail.
"Who could resist being someone ...or something else?" he enjoyed the way her eyes roved over him. "It is what you want, isn't it?"
"Yes, I guess a certain anonymity does bring out the devil in us all " she said directing his attention to the bar.
A group of partygoers gathered around a female harlequin whose cleavage cradled a shot for a man in donkey suit. A young blonde man slid off an exaggerated donkey head and set it on the bar before giving his friends a signal. Then, he directed his attention back to the jovial harlequin and leaned forward to lick the salt from her neck. With a certain expertise, he plucked the liquor free from her valley of her breast before the liquid disappeared down his throat. Flinging the empty glass to the counter, the man picked up his companion and spun her around sucking out the lemon wedge from her lips. A cheer roared up from the crowd as the harlequin snatched back the rind with her teeth. The young man responded by carrying her back to the bar and motion for another round.
Feeling him draw near, she turned closing the gap between them. She wanted to touch the curl peeking out from behind his ear.
"They do know how to have a good time," his voice dropped an octave.
"Who?" she responded without thinking.
"My guests," he smiled looking over her mask like it held the capacity for expressions.
"Oh...yes...looks like fun," she glanced toward the bar.
"We could have fun," he reached out to touch the tiny curved beak. "We could have a lot of fun."
"Yes, we could." Her stomach fluttered at the suggestion. "What's your name?"
"Bad girl...house rules. No names," he tapped her beak to punctuate the remark.
"House rules? Who made those up?"
"I did. My house, my rules."
"I guess I'll just have to call you Big Daddy?" she suggested half-joking.
He leaned into her in response to the remark. She waited for the words to come or something more as he lingered inches from her face. Through his cadaverous covering, his eyes were shades of green and blue twisting like a kaleidoscope. The color was hypnotizing. His chin was square and slightly dusted with fresh stubble. She could smell red wine on his breath. On his upper lip, a tiny vertical scar lined the right peak. The bottom lip was plump and perfect for kissing. Her own mouth began to tremble in anticipation.
"Are you feeling the devil tonight?" he spoke the words against her lips making her mouth slightly part.
Nervous excitement hung in the air as their eyes held each other. Every inch of her tingled, but the tension mounted as neither moved. She decided to play his game. Her hand slid across his shoulder, and found the fold of his collar. Slipping under his jacket, she traced his collarbone with her fingers. A thunder moved through her palm making her wonder if it was her heart or his pounding. Then, she moistened her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue and turned her half-closed eyes to him.
"Yes, and he feels divine," she whispered holding their proximity for a moment before slowly drawing back.
He wanted to reach out, to reciprocate. A heat bubbled from deep inside him to linger between them. Lust violently ripped through him. Seduction gleamed in her gaze. She was undeniably intriguing to him. It was a policy of his to never mix with the clientele. However, she wasn't really an invited guest, which left enough gray area to justify his actions. She wanted him now and that would suffice. How often did he really let himself enjoy his own house? He wanted to make her plump lips moan. She slid her wine glass back into his hand before slipping away from him.
"Not so fast," she taunted walking backwards. "You really think I'm going to make it that easy?"
"No ... I," he stammered, frustrated by the retreat.
Bounding into the crowd, she looked over her shoulder and blew him a kiss. As if by cue, a wall of falling confetti separated them. Instantly, the mob went mad reaching toward the heavens. Bouncing bodies pressed against and folded around her. She weaved her way like an electric eel through the mass as adrenaline pumped through her veins. From the rafters, men swung from ropes dumping buckets of silver paper. A large moon hung overhead drawing her attention. Losing herself in the madness of the moment, she decided to follow the smiling lunar face and hoped he was still in pursuit.
Waving like feathered fingers, her tail marked her winding progress through the sea of people. Once the confetti cleared to a trickle, he handed off the empty glasses to a confused man. Then, he plunged into the dance floor after her. He watched as the peacock eyes bobbed right and then left. Exiting into a hallway, she made her escape. It was all surreal to him. When he should be minding his business, he was chasing some little tart like a third grader. However, the pull he felt when she walked through that door was undeniable. A primitive instinct seized better judgment and exiled it for the evening.
Her shadow cast long down the hall. Realizing too late that she'd separated from the crowd, she thought about turning back. However, a motion deep in the corridor caught her attention. A faint light traced the outline of two figures huddled together. Curiosity getting the better of her, she pressed back into the wall trying to avoid drawing attention. Straining to hear, she barely made out the whispers of the couple.
"Please..." a young male voice pleaded. A mumble excitedly answered back as slender arms emphatically gestured. The girl was very small with unusually long hair. The shadows melted into one as more muffled words were exchanged. "Yes," a feminine voice rose from a hush. Her answer slipped by on the cool breeze suddenly blowing past Melody. They had opened a door at the end of the hallway. A hint of stairs showed through the doorframe as a puddle of light flooded the floor. A tall young man in a pirate costume led the way as a striking pastel fairy held on to his arm. Putting her index finger over her mouth, the fairy turned her glittering pale blue mask in Melody's direction. Then, the light was swallowed by blackness with the close of the door. In the new darkness, Melody heard her pursuer approach.
"Come out. Come out, wherever you are," his voice echoed strangely off the walls as a Smashing Pumpkins song played in the distance.
Turning in his direction, Melody felt her skin flush with excitement.
"Here," she spoke softly focusing her attention on him. The plume from his hat almost touched the ceiling as his presence filled the entire hall. She couldn't help but think he reminded her of a gothic hero. He was dark, dangerous and mysterious. All the things that aren't supposed to make a good girl hot.
"What did you see?" he replied positioning directly in front of her. Placing his hands on the wall, he boxed her in with his arms. Her scent was spicy and heavy with jasmine. Her doe-like stare made him want to plunge into her tight little body.
"Nothing...just... a distraction," she decided it was better to not try to explain about the couple she had been eavesdropping. Besides, he was looming so very close.
"Is that what you want...a distraction?" his words came out heavy.
"Yes" she replied as her fingers traced the bony contour of his mask.
With her other hand, she slid off his hat. His ebony locks hair fell in loose waves she caught between her fingers. Soft and silky, the strands slipped through her grasp springing free into lazy curls. He shook his head tossing the hair out of his eyes. Looking down at her, soft light fell across the right side of his face making the hollows of his eyes dark and leaving the left side in shadow.
"You look spooky in this light," her voice was barely audible.
"Do I frighten you?"
"No"
"Then why are you shaking?"
"I don't know."
"I do."
He did not let her speak, but captured her words in his kiss. Coaching her mouth open, he brushed the inside of her bottom lip with his own. She opened wider for him. The taste of wine had never been so sweet as it was on him. Like a strong hand on a tired back, the circular motions of his tongue relaxed her in places she hadn't know where tight. The goose-bumped flesh arms rose in rippled salute as her nipples contracted. He grasped the left cup of her bustier pulling it down to free her breast. He cupped it in his hand as he worked down her chest in a path of hungry kisses. She fought against her innate sense of propriety.
"I don't know him. We are in public. Someone will catch me," she thought.
Instead of controlling her desire, the thought made it flare. She'd come here looking for a night to remember. Now, given the opportunity, she needed to seize the moment. Pushing against his growing erection, she ground her hips ground against his pelvis. He wrapped his mouth around her hardened nipples and lightly scraped his teeth. The tender skin stung with pleasure. Feeling her release the zipper of her shorts in open invitation, he slid his fingers into her parting the folds of her inner flesh to find her clit. Pinching it between his first knuckles, he drew out and back. The air hissed as she sucked it in between her teeth.
Satisfied with her reaction, he stayed the path of concentration nerves between her swollen clit and soaking wet hole. Her hips thrust forward as she spread further for him. Dipping deeper into her dewy heat, he reveled in the feel of her slippery wet need. He applied more pressure with the increasing strength of her grasp. A thousand stars burst under her closed eyelids as her head grew dizzy. She couldn't believe how close she was to coming. He refused to let her finish. Over and over, he would take her to the edge then pull her back. A pulse beat between her legs. A voice inside her begged for release. Desperate, her normal self-restraint was crumbling under raw lust. She needed to make him weak. To make him as helpless and pliable as she was under his fingers. The fingers that tortured her flesh with ecstasy.
Fighting the fabric of his elaborate costume, she forced her hand into the front of his pants breaking his hand free from her. His oblique flex at her touch. His tight stomach muscles presented no hindrance in the path of her descending arm. His skin was hot and damp against her flesh. Hunger for control, she grasped his swollen rod in her hand. Twisting at the wrist, she slid up and down his length. She felt every vein and ripple move under her palm. Stroking his cock, she marveled, as he grew impossibly thicker. His skin moved in her hand like stretched latex over rock. It's incredible hardness shocked and called to her. She wanted him inside of her. Her fingers spread over his expanding mass pumping it in her soft grip until he growled, pushing her away. The smell of sex vibrated in the air.
"Let's go somewhere else," his voice was raw and husky.
"I don't know," she replied, struggling to breathe. Her body still ached for relief. "How do I know I'm safe?"
"Trust me," he replied his eyes searching for confirmation.
"How can I?" she replied. "I don't know you."
"Please," he whispered against her ear as if in pain.
He pulled back. For a minute, he posed in front of her with his arms curled left in the direction of the door. Then, turning slowly, he walked away to where the earlier couple had disappeared. She shifted against the wall readjusting her clothes. Losing her doubt with his distance, she followed him. The hair on her arm stood on end as the cool breeze from the open door. Looking into the light, she saw his shape ascend the stairs. His pace was such she thought he would leave her behind. But, he reached back and took her hand.
The stairs led to a hall that reminded her of an upscale hotel. The long corridors were lined with paisley carpeting and lit by golden leafed wall sconces. Each door had numbers etched on it, but she noticed they were not sequential. The place was unusually quiet. If it had not been for the sound of their steps, Melody would have believed she'd gone deaf. Trying to figure out the pattern of the room numbers, she hadn't realized they had reached the elevator at the opposite end until the bell sounded as the doors opened.
A couple stepped out holding hands. The woman was laughing as she straightened the simple red mask that matched the red cross on her nurse's uniform. Her date, looking like a masked Popeye the Sailor Man in his naval whites, tipped his hat at Melody and her companion as they walked past. Melody turned to the man holding her hand.
"Is this a hotel too?"
"No," he responded pressing the number four button in the elevator.
"Oh...then what were those rooms?" she asked slightly confused.
"Just part of the club," he murmured pulling her into his arms.
"Like VIP rooms?" She nuzzled her head into his chest.
"Yes, something like that," he answered as he brushed her hair back from her neck.
He tasted the sweet salt of her skin as he kissed her neck. Knowing it to be a short ride to the top, he withdrew his mouth to control his body's reaction. He looked at the beading of her mask to center his thoughts when he noticed her eyes had a far away look. He considered asking her again if she was sure about what they were about to do. But, he was afraid she would say no. No use in pushing his luck. Anyway, if she started talking too much, it may ruin the night for him. A woman knew how to kill a mood with words faster then any man knows how to repair it.
Besides, as long as she was holding on to him, he would assume that was a good sign. He'd make her forget all about her ex and her inhibitions. Part of him, despite his house rules, needed to the see the rest of her face, but he also knew that would complicate matters. His life was complicated enough. He would see every inch of what God gave her later. That would have to be enough.
When the elevator door slid back, Melody saw a woman with wild curly hair crouching in French maid outfits beside a curtained cart. Jumping up nervously, she looked up at them and smiled awkwardly. Then, she opened the door in front of her cart. A man's voice broke the silence of the hall.
"Venga, mamacita," a man pleaded from the room.
"Se pega la rueda," she responded with frustration.
"Lo fijaré," the man echoed back.
Melody tried to look in the room as they walked past, but could not see around the girl's mass of hair. Though people may have once or twice called her naïve, she was not stupid. Something was up with those VIP rooms. She assumed that was where he was leading her. So, she would know soon enough. If he hadn't known how to touch her just right, her curiosity would have almost won the struggle in the war between her body and mind. Later, after she wore herself out with the red velvet giant with magic fingers, she promised to go Nancy Drew on this place.
"What's their problem?" she asked not trying to sound too interested.
"The cart," he answered distracted.
He let go of her hand as he searched for something in his coat pockets. Hearing the jingle, she saw him pull out a mass of room keys and begin to flip through the ring. She looked up to see a gladiator standing at the end of the hall holding out his hand to impede their progress. The hulking figure fidgeted as they got closer to him. His reaction made him appear to shrink two inches in height as he lowered his arm. Stepping to the side to reveal a door, he stared uncomfortably at her companion who singled out a key and inserted it into the lock.
"Didn't know it was you, Boss," the gladiator replied avoiding eye contact.
"You're fine. Call George to fix the wheel on the cart for 4363."
"I thought guests weren't allowed on the roof," the gladiator looked from his employer to Melody.
Her companion motioned for Melody to enter in the passage. As she stepped past him to another set of stairs, she filled with awe from the view that filled her eyes. A black satin sky twinkled with the glow of the heavens. She looked back to see if he was behind her. He still stood at the base of the steps facing the gladiator who was hidden by the wall.
"She not 'a guest'. She's my guest. Now, watch this door and not a word to the others. I don't want any interruptions," he directed the man pulling the door shut.
Looking up at her shadow surrounded by the night, his mouth cracked into a devilish grin as her excited laughter hung in the air. The cool night wrapped around her making the air bite with chilly teeth. Unable to control her laughter, she saw him bounding up the dark passageway like an eager child. The mask split his face into two worlds. One part glowered with the impossible rage of death. While the other, exposed bare flesh, reflected the innocent joys savored in youth. For just a moment time, she saw something past the disguise that ran like a needle into her heart. It created an unfamiliar stitch. She turned away from the man bounding toward her. She felt silly from it all.
The blackened felt of the roof shone like a seal's skin reflecting the moonlight. A slight smell of tar warmed by the abandoned sun resonated in her nose. Laid out before her, the industrial line of rooftops broke the skyline with billowing smokestacks and warehouse antennas. Looking into the distance, she saw the brick city district reflecting like a string of lights in the river. A barge horn mourned its solitary existence in the black waters with a deep moan. Melody walked to the far edge of the roof. In the surrounding buildings, illuminated windows contained the shadows of workers laboring in the late night.
"There are people up there," she commented pointing up at the building.
"Yes, it is a shipping company."
"Must be dedicated...working on the weekend," she turned back while speaking.
"Dedication is easy when you love what you do," he responded closing the gap between them.
The gust whipped her chestnut brown hair around her face stretching it out long. Glimpses of her delicate jaw line peeked out from the dark locks that reached toward him. The spread of her feathered tail, the wind blown hair and the irresistible draw he felt made him understand the mythological power of the Greek Sirens. He could understand how a man would risk certain death succumbing to a temptress. As she smiled from under the crescent beak of her half-mask, she unfastened her tail letting it fall to ground. She stepped away from the feathers like an angel shedding her wings. Jumping over the rail of his usual self-restraint, the waves of desire lapped over his head drowning him in her presence.
"Do you?" her eyes caught the stars and threw back the light.
"Yes... I do," he whispered pushing back her hair.
"What do you love about it?"
"Everything," his voice was thick. "We aren't here to discuss me, though."
"Then, why are..." her words fell into the void her mind created from his touch.
"To finish what we started."
"Here?"
"Yes."
No big fluffy bed waited for them. Not even a couch or a wall to press against. She surveyed the expanse of the rooftop. Standing over at least a hundred or more suitable rooms, he brought her here. Maybe she had misread what he had meant when he asked her to go someplace else. She looked to him for understanding. His onyx curls flurried about the sinister mask that hung over his mouth. Begging to be kissed, the center of his bottom lip swelled like a luscious cherry making her salivate.
"Why here?" the edge on her question quivered from being repeated.
In the back of his mind, a wolfish voice replied, "The better to see you with my dear."
Flashing like an inserted frame on a movie reel in his mind, her nude figure stretched out calling to him. The fantasy resurrected the erection he had spent great energy to kill over the past half an hour. Spreading like her thighs in his thoughts, his cheek muscles ached to release the criminal grin. Pretending to search the sky, he wrestled with the urge of seizing her like a feral beast.
"Are you laughing at me again?" she grabbed his chin hard turning his face to meet her eyes.
"No," he quickly hid any hint of expression she could see around the mask.
"Then answer me," she demanded.
Grasping her upper arms, he slowly turned her around to face the night. The concrete ledge ran even with her hips. Controlling the urge to crawl back into the safety of his arms, she, instead, leaned over the edge to look down the side of building. Adrenaline rushed into her bloodstream making her eyes refocus. Below, the alley was lined with vacant cars waiting patiently for their owners' return. The wet asphalt sparkled with the light of the single street light whose pole was hidden by the neighboring building.
"I brought you here for them."
"I don't see anyone."
"Shhhh," he whispered snaking his fingers through hers. "Look up."
Raising her eyes to the buildings, she saw the figures moving in the windows.
"I brought you here for them," his breath was hot against her ear.
"I don't understand."
"You want to be someone else?" his voice went high in an imitation of hers. "Do something wild?"
"Oh!" the reality of what he was saying hit her. The eyes on the building could see her and anything she did with him.
"Or was it just talk?" he called her bluff waiting for her to fold.
Instead of the normal horror the idea should have provoked, her body begged for the release. She craved the absolute freedom to indulge her most basic desire without shame in the eyes of God and who ever else dare to look. Without fear of judgment or condemnation, her fingers shook loose of his grasp to crawl their way across the soft feathers of her bustier to her back. Freeing one hook after another from the curved metal eyes, the fabric dropped to the ground as her breasts broke from their confinement. Her nipples contracted hard in the cool open air. Enjoying the sensation, she turned to him with a wicked smile. Her arms spread out flaunting her nakedness challenging him to deny her. His kiss had been a thief who danced across her tongue and stole her shame. Now, she would reward him for his crime.
Stretched out before him, her bare breasts glistened like translucent honey in the moonlight. Electricity shot through his fingertips as he touched the delicate curve of her stomach. Feeling the shock of contact, she let out a slight groan. He traced each rib in circular motions climbing up her body an inch at a time. He enjoyed watching her struggle under his fingers. Silently, she encouraged his roaming hands by exaggerating her response to the smallest motion. As he reached the cleft of her jutting breasts, he gently cupped her tits in each of his hands and leaned over her starring into her eyes.
"You are an exquisite creature," the rich voice caressed her thoughts.
"Yes, tell me how beautiful I am..." she moaned.
"The heavens pale in the beauty of your light," he spoke even as he kissed the hollow of her neck.
"Yes..." she turned her head to grant him greater access. "Tell me you want me."
"And hell has no torture as cruel as the denial of your kiss," he turned her face back to him.
"I would not deny you," she whispered.
"Then, open your world to me."
"You are my world...tonight," she responded pulling him into a kiss.
Dissolving into her, he massaged her firm breasts feeling the tight nipples bury into his palms. When he could take no more, he broke their kiss dragging his mouth to his hand catching her swollen flesh in his lips. He sucked in her breast. She was warm and sweet like vanilla. Again and again, he licked and twisted his tongue over her nipples needing to hear her ask him. Needing to hear she wanted him as much as he did her. A deep pain curled in the pit of his stomach as he fought his reaction. Always in control, he refused to let his body betray him.
"Please...I need..." her raspy voice cracked as though she would cry. "Oh, fuck me."
Her whole being screamed with rapture. The sensation of crushed velvet tickled her bare skin. His hard cock pressed into her lower stomach. Surely, she would explode into pure energy shooting into the sky. Inhaling deeply, she filled her lungs with the smoky, dark scent of his masculinity. She started to call out again for him when she felt him slip down leaving her exposed to the cold empty air.
Straighten up to protest, the sight of the powerful man on his knees silenced her. His hands had slipped to her waist as he held on to her. Knowing what he wanted, she unfastened the button of her hipsters and tugged down the zipper. He brought down her shorts and panties in one swift motion. One foot at a time, she stepped out of her final pieces of clothes. Being nude, here with him, was the most natural thing she'd ever felt in her life.
Pulling one of her thighs over his shoulder, he slipped his hands around her buttocks drawing her into his hungry mouth. Wet heat sliced into her most private flesh. The tip of his tongue slipped across the edge of her lips. Then, first up the right, then down the left, his tongue slowly danced and twirled masterfully. She shivered before relaxing into the warmth. Feeling her tension fade, he gently spread her seeking deeper into her secret treasure.
"God have mercy," she whispered leaning back to grab the ledge.
Sucking in her clitoris, he began to hum an old Sinatra song. "The Way You Look Tonight" purred into her. Her hips rewarded the greater pressure pushing against his open mouth. Moving up and down, his vibrating lips enveloped the bundle of nerves. First, he slipped in his index finger, and then another. He moved slow and deep within her. Grabbing on tight to his shoulder, she rocked against his open mouth lost in the experience. As if caught in a storm, she watched as the buildings spun around her. The lights and the people in the distanced receded into the background of her mind. A raging thunder rolled over her as the energy crackled around her. She became her desire.
Yet, even when it happened, the release blindsided her with intensity. Oblivious to everything but pleasure, she folded under the moment slipping to the ground. She leaned against the brick of the inner ledge wall in a breathless daze. The sweat collected under mask and stuck to her skin. Without a thought to it, she pushed back the jeweled beak and tossed her mask to the side. Her hands rubbed away the perspiration and fuzziness. When she looked up at him bare faced, she realized what she had done. He starred at her with his mouth agape.
"I'm sorry," she stuttered confused by his reaction. "It was hot."
"It's...," he clamped down on the words.
He finally looked turned away to stare at a large fan fastened to the top of the roof. The sound of the motor hummed loudly as it kicked into motion. Melody reached out to touch his mask when he grabbed her hand. Sucking in her breath with surprise, she started to pull back from him when she saw his expression.
"Just because you break the rules, naughty girl," he laughed. "Does not mean I will."
"It's your fault.," she flirted relieved. "You got me all hot and sweaty."
"Well," he replied pulling her into his lap. "Maybe you can return the favor and see what I am willing to take off."
"But not the mask?" she replied, nuzzling the bony contour of it.
"No, not the mask."
"I see," she murmured. "Are you horribly ugly?"
"Truly horrid," he spoke between kisses.
"With mangled scars," she giggled.
"A monster," he growled rolling flat onto the blackened felt of the rooftop.
"Seriously?" she laughed
"A nasty beast," he winked.
She reached up and unfastened the ornamental clasp on his cloak. Slipping off his shoulders, it fell into a velvet puddle beside them. Her fingers dance down his chest popping each button of his shirt exposing the lines of muscle. Moving slowly and deliberately, her hands explored the warm, taunt flesh. Pulling up to kiss his collarbone, she could feel his gaze.
"Why are you staring?" she asked.
"The moonlight..."
"What about it?" she breathed against his chest.
Instead of replying, he pulled her to him and kissed her. She closed her eyes and filled her senses with the gentle pressure of his lips, the warm caress of his tongue, the texture of his hair in her hand. She leaned into him deepening the kiss, memorized by the sweet salty taste on his lips and the masculine hardness of his body. His hand moved up her back and around her side with teasing slowness making her ache. She tried to move closer, straining to melt into him. His chest, his shoulders and his arms were carved as a Greek statue. Flawless was every curve until she felt his back. She moved her fingers down the length of his spine to discover deep scarring. As if burned by the flaw, she quickly retreated past to slip down to tug at his pants.
Knowing her intentions, he helped her work down the velvet coverings. She grasped his erection, no longer afraid of what she wanted. Leaning back onto the ground and spreading her legs, she guided him as he entered her. He moved slowly, savoring her at first. He filled her completely. Her wet heat closed around him hungrily. The pleasure grew with each stroke. The tension between them building, muscles tightening, hearts pounding and breath coming in gasps. Every sensation was greater then the last. He cradled her head against his shoulder shaking with the force of his own desire. His restraint frayed with her every moan. Her moans grew strength with every tremble. Then, she convulsed around him, the tremor of her climax driving him over the edge. With a groan, he plunged into her with fevered madness, abandoning himself to his senses, his climax closer with each thrust. She arched against him, matching his rhythm. Her voice whispered into his ear. The slick warmth of her tightening grasping him until he finally exploded clinging to her sweat covered body.
Lying across the bed, soft cotton sheets snuggled against her body as she slowly came to consciousness. A cold nose burrowed into her cheek attempting to wake her. She pulled her arm over her face to block the furry advances of a cat nudging her for food. Rolling over, she dismissed the animal until she heard the cat's throaty meow. Drowsily, she played with the idea the cat sounded just like her little fuzzball, Cotton. With her face still buried in the pillow, she lazily drew up her hand to pet the animal's head. Feeling the jagged edge of his left ear, she recognized the missing tip as Cotton's old alley cat battle wound.
Immediately, her eyes flew open to see dirty clothes piled on top of her oak dresser. Her body sprung straight up in the bed. Searching her memory, she was confused by the sight of her own room. She had gone to a club. She had been with a masked man. They had had sex on the roof. Then, she woke up here? She didn't remember driving home, but her keys sat on her nightstand beside a pile of books. Rising, she looked about the room for her peacock costume. She kicked around piles of laundry desperately trying to find the evidence the night really happened. Flipping up the stripped Laura Ashley bed skirt, she scanned under her bed finding only cat toys, a plastic storage container of old clothes, and more books scattered across the hardwood. In an attempt to control her growing disillusionment, she repeated aloud, "It was not a dream. It was not a dream."
Finally, she looked in the least likely place, her closet. While she loved clothes, organizing and hanging them had never been her strong suit. She pushed back the folding wooden door to see her peacock attire hanging undisturbed. She leaped back like she expected the costume to bite her. It was impossible that it was hanging up still covered in plastic. She rubbed the aching muscles of her arms as she collapsed back on the bed feeling a burn in her thighs. Why was she so sore?
She attempted to recall when she had fallen asleep. Like most Saturday nights since Allen moved out, she had been sitting on the couch flipping channels. Concentrating, she remembered Cotton had started squalling back in her room at some cat down in the alley. She had walked back to her room to open the window to free the small apartment of his annoying cry. Cotton had slipped out the window quickly. Then, she decided her room was a disaster and decided to try to clean a little. Sniffing for freshness and then folding clothes deemed clean, she tucked them into empty drawers. Running out of space, she decided to break the seal on a drawer deserted by her former boyfriend. It was a milestone night finally taking back the use of that area in her room. When it had refused to give with a gentle pull, she jerked the drawer open. Inside, she noticed a card at been jarred loose and floated to the center.
It had been a card for a place called, Incognitos. Allen had an active nightlife and had known all the private clubs. She stretched to the side feeling the tension releasing with the pull. His accusations of her being boring had haunted her for months. She had not been enough for him. The impulse to prove him wrong had sent her on an adventure, hadn't it? No dream could have made her that sore. Was it possible for someone to bring her home, redress her and leave without waking her? How did he know where she lived? The image of a dwarf in a top hat brought doubt. She glanced up to notice the window. Cotton had gotten back in, but the window was closed. Pulling herself from the rumpled sheets, she hobbled to the bathroom to relieve her most pressing need. Walking in the room, she stared at her collection of fashion magazines on the white tile floor. They were pushed up against the wall. Usually, she left them halfway between the toilet and the bathtub making it easier to reach regardless of what she was doing. Someone had moved them. Craning her head the right, she caught the first splash of color on the mirror. She stumbled back tripping over herself. There, written across the mirror in large Almay mauve letters: You were beautiful in the moonlight, Melody.
Beginning with her toes and ending with her grin, Melody felt a smile spread throughout her. In the mirror, the image of her faded away as her mind focused on the words. Only the letters streaked across the glass, sparking her sinful delight and curiosity. The night had not been a dream. It had been real. He was been real, but how did he know her name?
