So. Long(113)

“Chill out there, Peaches. I wasn’t asking if you’re down for the count. I was calling to see if you want to go out with me on New Year’s Eve.”

I fan myself as heat washes over me. “Ah. Well—should we do that? I mean, we said after the bookstore thing that we should probably not be seen in public together.”

Jack laughs. “Maybe. But this is a masked ball. No one will even know it’s you.”

Masquerade? “Really? And you want to take me?”

“Love, I haven’t yet had my fill of you.”




I stand in front of the full-length mirror, pushing, tugging, and stuffing my boobs into the bodice of a dress any woman with tits this size should never consider wearing. However, on such short notice, this was the best I could do.

I’ve owned exactly two formal gowns in my life. Both prom dresses. Neither still fit, and, even if they did, they certainly wouldn’t be appropriate for a masquerade ball.

I fluff out my black brocade skirt. The fabric is luxurious and sewn through with silver threads. Hopefully it will match whatever mask Jackson brings for me. He wanted to buy me a dress, but, of course, I couldn’t let him do that. So we compromised on the mask.

I pull open the door. Jack stands at the edge of the porch with his back to me. Even from this viewpoint, the cut of his tux screams money. He turns, his half-smile enough to send even the most prudish of women into a fit of desire. A flutter in my chest is accompanied by a flood of saliva in my mouth and a similar flow of warm wetness to my pussy.

I swallow before I drool.

His gaze meets mine. And then it travels the length of my gown and back, stopping at my almost overflowing breasts. A flush of heat rushes up over my chest and onto my cheeks. This dress feels less and less appropriate every second.

I run my fingers over the pendant Gee-Gee gave me when I graduated high school. “Will I do?”

Jackson’s eyes grow serious as he steps to me. His hand snakes around my waist. “Will you do? Are you kidding? You’re absolutely stunning.”

He draws me near, his mouth crashing into mine. He nips my bottom lip and trails heated kisses down my neck to the cleavage so precariously contained in the corset I almost didn’t get hooked. His tongue slides between my tits, sending more dampness to my core. He moves back to my mouth.

He pulls me so close that my feet leave the ground, and I grasp at his broad shoulders. After walking us into the house, Jack slams the door. Immediately, he turns us so he can back me against it as he finds the wild pulse in my neck. He grunts as his tongue makes circles over the tops of my breasts.

A throb beats at my pussy as my fingers find his zipper.

He pulls back, his chest heaving, matching my own. He licks his lips, the spark in his eye now a roaring flame. “We stop now, or we don’t stop at all. If we don’t, then we skip this party. I’d be happy to ring in the New Year right here, driving my cock into your hot cunt. Your choice.”

“Hmm. Decisions, decisions.”

This dress cost me a mint, even if it does seem rather lacking in comparison to Jack’s designer tuxedo. “Ball, then back to your place for sex?”

He grabs me by the waist and yanks me into his arms, his mouth coming down on mine for a quick kiss. “You got it. That is, if I can wait long enough to get back to my place.”

His cock presses into my belly, even through all the layers of my gown. “You get your coat. I’ll be right back. I forgot something in the car.”

I grab my cloak from my bed and meet Jack in the entryway. “All right, I’m ready.”

He pulls his hands from behind his back.

Oh. Wow.

My fingers go to my lips as I take a step forward. “That’s not what I thought you had in mind.”

He holds out the incredible mask, made from black lace and encrusted with gemstones along the bottom edge, the lacy edges at the top tapering over the forehead. Along one side, black and white feathers fan from the corner, dipping so they will likely cover a portion of the wearer’s cheek.

He pushes it into my hands, but I pull them back.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”

“Oh, no. It’s beautiful. More than beautiful. But it looks super expensive. When I agreed you could buy the mask, I thought it would be a simple thing, cheap, not really a big deal. This is a big deal.”

He gives an exaggerated eye roll. “It didn’t cost much at all. Just take it. We don’t have time to go shopping for something else. You have to wear the mask, or your identity will be spread all over every gossip rag by the end of the next printing—thus ending the bet and your book sales.”

Book sales. He’s got me on that one.