Mask - A Stepbrother Romance Page 2

  “I wanted to see that body of yours properly,” he said by way of explanation, his gaze roaming over my curves.

  I looked around. We were in a large bedroom, which was just as ornately-decorated as the rest of the house that I’d seen so far. It even had a four-poster bed, like I always saw in movies about old-fashioned English places, and I sucked in a discreet gasp as I took it all in, amazed by everything that the owner of this house had. Mom and I had moved around a lot when I was younger as work in her field was hard to come by, which meant I’d never been able to have lots of stuff, and it had never bothered me before. But now that I’d seen Gerald’s manor along with the house I was currently in, it made me wonder for the first time about all the things I’d missed out on by growing up in a lower middle class environment.

  Before I could think anything else, I was sucked into my ‘stranger’ fantasy once more. The guy I’d secretly nicknamed Mr. Mask was directly in front of me again, looking down at me as if he could see right into my soul now that the darkness in the room had dissipated, and he traced his hand around the back of my neck, the touch of his fingertips making me shiver with bliss as his lips moved slowly to meet mine. He kissed me gently at first, but it wasn’t long before our embrace turned wilder and frenzied. An involuntary moan escaped my lips as our tongues clashed and warred in a bid for domination, and he grabbed me even tighter.

  I felt him hitch my dress up, and a fire ignited in my stomach, completely taking over me. This wasn’t like me at all. I’d never gone so far as to have sex with someone I’d literally only just met moments ago, but I was more turned on than ever before, and I needed to get it out of my system...and soon.

  I grabbed hold of his shirt and dragged him backwards until I felt my back hit a cold wall, and I reached my hand down a second later. I was thrilled to find that he was already hard for me; his cock throbbing against his black pants, and his fingers traced the edge of my panties, sending me crazy with desire. I tossed my head back as he peppered kisses along my neck, earlobes and collarbone, and he let out a low groan as he moved his fingers under the lacy material, feeling the wet warmth that lay below. It was almost as if he hadn’t expected me to be that turned on by him so quickly, which made me feel strangely powerful.

  He clearly wanted to explore further, and my panties were in the way, so he tugged them off.

  I let him.

  As I stepped out of them, I yanked at his belt, needing it gone as well. I was no longer thinking about what I was doing or pre-emptively regretting my wanton actions like I usually did every time I went further than chaste kissing with a guy. I was just allowing my body to do what it wanted—probably for the first time in my life.

  And damn, it felt good.

  I’d never been this turned on in my entire life; intense pleasure bubbling just under the surface as he kissed my throat and my collarbone, slowly descending to my cleavage. As I fumbled with his zipper, he stepped back to take a look at me. I was being scrutinized under his intense gaze….and suddenly it didn’t feel so great anymore.

  My body might’ve been begging for me to have this guy, and my mind might not have cared about how I might feel about my actions in the morning, but my heart did. My heart always cared, and it wouldn’t let me do this with a guy whose face I’d never even seen, no matter how hot the fantasy.

  I dropped my hand from his zipper and looked up at him. “Let me see you,” I whispered.

  “You can see me already,” he said, and then his mouth was on mine again.

  He wasn’t patient, sliding his tongue inside my mouth and pulling on my bottom lip gently with his teeth. I could feel the heat building up between my thighs, but I pushed aside the sensation and broke away from his embrace.

  “Please,” I said. “Take off the mask. I want to see all of you.”

  He stared at me for a few seconds, seemingly considering my statement, and I held my breath, feeling a stark tension suddenly flowing between us; something other than the sexual tension of a few moments ago. Then he finally lifted his hand and tugged away the dark mask, revealing his face.

  His perfect face.

  His familiar face.

  And that was when every fantasy I’d had about this guy went straight out the window.

  “Oh, shit!” I said with a gasp, throwing my hands over my mouth.

  He wrinkled his nose. “What’s wrong?”

  “I….uh….”

  Suddenly I was back to my earlier stage of not being able to form a coherent sentence. I recognized the guy before me from the photograph I’d seen of him all those weeks ago, and now that I was seeing his whole face, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realized before now. Those grey-blue eyes, the chiseled jaw, the perfect ski-jump shaped nose—I knew who he was, and I could scarcely believe it. Surely it couldn’t actually be true…

  And yet it was true. He was Jace Wilde, my soon-to-be stepbrother…and I’d almost slept with him.

  Oh, crap.

  “I…I’m sorry. I have to go,” I mumbled, thanking the lord that I hadn’t taken my mask off at any point in this brief encounter. My mask barely covered anything with its flimsy lace, but hopefully it was enough that Jace wouldn’t recognize me in future when we were properly introduced to each other as brand new family members.

  “What? Don’t go,” he said, reaching out and wrapping his arms around my waist.

  I pushed him away, the raw need to have him inside me still pulsing between my legs. He reached out for me again, probably thinking I was playing some coy little game, but even though my body was on fire from his touch, I knew I couldn’t do it.

  “Sorry,” I said, not meeting his eyes. “I really need to go.”

  “Are you serious?” His voice was incredulous, almost offended, and his British accent somehow made him sound even more annoyed than if he were an American like me. “You’re leaving?”

  I nodded and headed for the door without another word and without another glance in his direction. Then I did the only thing I could at a time like this.

  I stepped out into the long hallway and ran as fast as I could.

  Chapter 2

  Jace

  Shit.

  It was daytime already?

  I woke up as the warm morning light streamed through the curtains, causing my hungover head to throb like hell, and I sat up in the ridiculously oversized four-poster bed, wondering what the fuck I was doing there by myself. I was far more accustomed to waking up after a party with some random chick beside me, so waking up alone was just weird.

  Had I finally lost my touch with the ladies? I fucking well hoped not.

  I’d returned to London from Scotland a week ago, and I’d been staying here at my buddy Tom Ballanger’s place for two reasons. Firstly, Tom always threw kickass parties when his parents were away on business trips, and they were away quite frequently. Secondly, I couldn’t face going home to meet my father’s new fiancée just yet—the fourth damn fiancée in nine years—so it had been a good excuse to avoid it for just a little bit longer. With Dad, there was always some woman, always some crazy bullshit situation that ended it, and then it was onto the next. I hated it. It was a terrible vicious cycle that drove me insane, and I was fucking sick of being a part of any of it. In fact, if I hadn’t been forced to leave Edinburgh, I would’ve never come back, and I would’ve avoided this new fiancée forever.

  And probably the next one too.

  The face of the girl who’d run away from me the night before suddenly flashed in my mind, and I groaned as I realized I had no way of finding her. In my aroused state, it hadn’t occurred for me to ask her name….I’d just wanted to have her then and there. Names could come later.

  Of course, that wasn’t the way it had all worked out.

  Goddamn, she’d been beautiful. Even thought she’d been wearing a flimsy little mask, I could still see her sparkling hazel eyes and perfect button nose, and her plump lips drove me insane. The very first second I’d seen her, all I could imagine was t
hose lips wrapped around my cock. On top of that, there was that shimmery dress, those sexy curves, and that amazing hair that I wanted to thread my fingers through. But it hadn’t just been her appearance that I’d been attracted to. There were good-looking girls everywhere, but this girl—there was just something special about her. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on; something that I’d never experienced before…and I wanted more of it.

  Despite the mask, her eyes had given her away. She’d wanted it as much as I did, and I’d known that by the end of the night, I’d have her on her knees. I was Jace Wilde, and I could have any woman I wanted.

  Until I couldn’t.

  Just as I’d gotten her knickers off, she’d done a runner, and I’d been left high and dry, wondering where the hell it all went so wrong. Was I that fucking unappealing to her once the mask had come off? Surely not. It had to be something else. Either way, she’d immediately gone from hot to cold and left me here in this very room with a boner the size of Wales and the most severe case of blue balls ever known to man. All I’d been able to do was return to the party and smash back another few drinks until I finally stumbled upstairs in an exhausted, drunken haze, but even the resulting case of whiskey dick wasn’t enough to stop me from wondering why my mystery girl had left.

  What the hell was it about me that caused such an extreme reaction in her? She was American and she’d apparently only just arrived in London, so it wasn’t as if she could know anything about my reputation here. I hadn’t even told her my name, for fuck’s sake, so even if she’d heard things about me from the person who’d invited her to Tom’s party, she wouldn’t have realized that I was the Jace she’d heard about. It just wasn’t possible that she knew a single damn thing about me.

  So where the hell could she have seen my face before, and what about it put her off so much? I’d certainly never had any complaints from anyone else before. In fact, girls always went crazy for my face and body. Wild for Wilde. I wasn’t trying to sound arrogant in thinking this way about myself; I worked hard to make myself look good by eating well and rarely skipping the gym, and people told me that all the time. So all in all, I didn’t want to accept that the attraction hadn’t been mutual between me and mystery girl. It just didn’t seem right.

  Okay, yeah, maybe I was being a little arrogant…but I had the goods to back it up.

  The unexpected rejection was, of course, the main thing that’d caused me to go so silly with the booze after she left, even though I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t. I didn’t normally drink until I passed out anymore, but that blatant rejection when I was so damn raring to go just threw me for a loop. I had no idea what the hell was wrong with me—I should’ve just moved onto the next chick. There wasn’t exactly a shortage of hot, willing chicks at the party, but I didn’t have it in me to even pretend to care about approaching one of them.

  Apparently, mystery girl had taken all my mojo with her when she left.

  As I glanced around the room, working up the energy to move, a pink lacy garment sitting in the corner of the room caught my eye. Her panties. I remembered tugging them from her rocking body, grazing her silky soft skin as I went, and I almost got a hard-on all over again. Goddammit, why the fuck had she run away? It was driving me bat-shit insane. She’d honestly been acting like she wanted it as much as I did, and then something—fuck knows what—had made her leave. I’d probably never find out what it was.

  Or maybe I would….

  An idea suddenly struck me. I could track her down! Surely someone else at the party would remember her if I described her, and they’d be able to tell me who she came with, where she was staying, and various other details that might aid in my search.

  I jumped up and snatched the panties from the ground before stuffing them into my pocket. I felt like a bit of a creep doing so, but I figured it would surely be worse to leave them behind in one of Tom’s spare rooms for someone else to stumble across. I would hand them back to her when I found her anyway, and I would find her. I was absolutely determined to do so, and when I set my mind to something, I always got it.

  When I found her, I wouldn’t let her go until I’d finally fucked her brains out.

  I wasn’t some sort of soppy, sentimental guy, but there’d been something there between us. She wouldn’t be able to deny that, so I’d find out her reasoning for leaving me high and dry, and then I’d find a way to put her mind at ease…and then I’d finally get to taste that sweet body of hers.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t set about my plan just yet. Right now, it was time to face the music, because I couldn’t avoid going home forever. Dad didn’t know exactly when I was heading back to the manor, but he knew I was coming to stay with him for a while, and I was expected to show up at some point today to meet his millionth fiancée. Apparently she had a kid, but I couldn’t remember how old she was. I was pretty sure Dad had said nine, though.

  I grunted from the headache as I went into the bathroom and splashed my face, but the freezing cold water did nothing to wake me up any further. Perhaps my body was trying to tell me to sleep through the meeting with Dad and his new fiancée, because it might go better that way. Ha. I wish. Let’s just say that Dad and I hadn’t spent my life being on the best of terms.

  Tom was still passed out when I left, but that was cool—I’d see him again soon. We’d gone to school together, and he was one of the only real friends I had these days. Somehow, despite all the partying and girl craziness, he’d managed to stay stable and avoid developing any sort of problems or addictions.

  Too bad I couldn’t say the same for myself, but I was getting better. This year was gonna be different for me.

  As I drove, I thought about what my father’s fiancée might be like. All I’d heard about her was that she’d moved into the manor already, and that she’d been living somewhere in the U.S. with her daughter before she met my father. I hoped that I didn’t like either her or her daughter—that would make it that much easier when the relationship inevitably went tits up.

  I’d actually liked one of Dad’s partners before. She was wife number two, and we’d gotten along very well, but Dad had treated her like shit until she’d stormed out one day. I was only eleven years old at the time, and it had crushed me. I’d even tried to keep in touch with her, but she said that she couldn’t face seeing me because I reminded her too much of him and how much she’d loved him. So at the tender age of eleven I’d decided I wouldn’t ever let myself get hurt like that. Love was bullshit, anyway—it was all a sham, for pussies and pathetic daydreamers.

  As I reached the sprawling estate that I’d once called home, I took in a few deep breaths, trying to prepare myself for the inevitable barrage of questions, none of which I wanted to answer.

  ‘Why are you back?’

  ‘Why are you such a fucking failure?’

  ‘What the hell are you doing with your life?’

  I was just going to have to go inside and get this over with; like ripping off a Band-Aid. As soon as the initial meeting with my Dad was done, I was certain we could return to the ‘barely communicating’ relationship that I was used to, and in this moment, I was actually looking forward to it being like that.

  I pushed the front door open and stepped inside.

  “Oh…hello,” a feminine voice said from somewhere to my left.

  A nervous-looking woman stepped out of the main dining room and moved towards me with her hand outstretched. She was older than Dad’s usual type, but beautiful all the same with her lovely caramel-colored skin, dark eyes and wavy black hair. I couldn’t focus on any of that, though. All I could see was the hope in her eyes that I knew was going to be crushed sooner or later. It wouldn’t be long before tears filled those eyes instead, and we’d be seeing the last of her.

  “Jace, right?” she said.

  I nodded curtly.

  “I’m—”

  “Dad’s next victim, I know.” I knew I was being rude, but I wanted to make my position clear. I w
ouldn’t get close to this one. I was absolutely determined to keep my distance, and the sooner she could see that, the better.

  “Elena Silva.” She gave me a strained smile as her hand limply dropped down by her side. “I was just making some lunch, if you’d like some.”

  Just as I was about to refuse, Dad burst out into the main foyer. “Jace! It’s great to see you, son,” he said.

  He pulled me in for a big bear hug, which was fucking weird as hell for a man who’d never once showed even a hint of affection towards me. Was he putting on an act, or had he actually somehow changed in the several months since I’d seen him last? A flicker of hope burst into my chest, and I wondered if maybe, just maybe, Elena might be the woman who would change him; the one who could make him the man he was capable of being deep down.

  “Now,” he stepped backwards, getting a better look at me. “Am I to assume this is a fleeting visit, or are you back home for good?”

  “I’m here to stay. The rest of my stuff from Mom’s is being shipped…”

  “Great!” He cut me off, as if he didn’t want me to say any more in case I made Elena feel awkward. He must’ve spoken to my mother, and he knew exactly why I was really here. “You must join us for lunch. Elena has been whipping up something wonderful. She’s quite the whiz in the kitchen, you know.”

  He grinned at Elena, and for once, he actually looked like a man in love. I’d never seen this side of him before, and it was rather unnerving.

  “I wanted to sleep for a few hours, actually. Rough night last night.”

  “Nonsense. You need to meet your new family. Elena’s daughter is about your age, so you two should get along well. She’ll be here any minute.”

  “I thought you said she was nine?”

  “No. Nineteen.”

  This statement stunned me a little. Elena may have been older than Dad’s usual conquests, but she didn’t look old enough to have a daughter who was almost the same age as me.