Phantom Touch

Phantom Touch Cindy Jacks Erika leads a quiet life—at least in the real world. But her alter-ego, Little Lottie, is a singer at a local club and engages in a wild online romance. For months she‟s been communicating with a mysterious man, known only to her as the Phantom. Her lover contacts her via texts, emails and instant messages. When he offers to fulfill her desires in real life, she can‟t refuse. The only condition to meeting for their sizzling assignations—he wears a mask to hide his true identity. Despite his reluctance to reveal himself to Erika, he tears down her inhibitions and unleashes her suppressed passions, taking possession of her body and soul. Erika may have finally found the one man who can sate her every longing…if only he would show her the man behind the mask.

Ellora‟s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

Phantom Touch ISBN 9781419935862 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Phantom Touch Copyright © 2011 Cindy Jacks Edited by Jillian Bell Cover design by Syneca Photography: Ioannis Pantzi/Shutterstock.com Electronic book publication October 2011 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora‟s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora‟s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher‟s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author‟s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author‟s imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.

PHANTOM TOUCH

Cindy Jacks

Cindy Jacks

Chapter One As she repeated the proposition for her best friend, Erika couldn‟t believe she‟d agreed to it herself. “Tell me again why I shouldn‟t have you committed?” Meg wrinkled her nose and sipped at her daiquiri Erika rolled her eyes. “I know him. I trust him.” “Which is precisely why I think you‟ve lost it. You don‟t really know him. He could be here right now and you wouldn‟t even realize it.” Meg gestured at the club patrons milling about for happy hour. “Love isn‟t about looks. We talk every night. We write music together. I know his soul.” Meg choked on a piece of fruit. “His soul could belong to a sixty-year-old lech for all you know. And you don‟t really talk—you IM. There is a difference.” “It‟s a valid form of communication and we‟ve been chatting for what? Two, almost three months.” “Granted. But don‟t you think it‟s odd that he won‟t call you or agree to meet for a drink like a normal guy?” “What do I know about normal guys? I‟ve had what—three boyfriends ever? Normal guys don‟t even notice me. At least I know my phantom likes me for who I am.” “He likes Little Lottie.” “And Little Lottie is part of me. She‟s who I wish I was brave enough to be.” Meg pursed her lips the way she did when she‟d started to change her mind about something. After a heavy exhalation she said, “I just don‟t get it, but if he makes you

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happy and you‟re willing to take the role-play into your real life, by all means—find your bliss, girl.” With a wicked grin, Erika lifted her drink to her lips. “But seriously.” Meg wiped her mouth. “Are you really going out in public with a man wearing a mask?” “He‟s meeting me here after Lottie‟s set on Saturday.” Erika looked around at the variety of people in steampunk costumes or dressed as vampires or just plain pierced and tatted up. “I don‟t think we‟ll draw much attention here.” “True that.” Meg nodded, the chain connecting her nose piercing to her ear gauge bobbing too.

***** An instant message window popped up on Erika‟s computer monitor with a message from the Phantom.

Only two more days until we meet, Little Lottie.

She glanced around the row of cubicles to see if her coworkers were looking. Trying to suppress a grin, she replied.

I can hardly wait. Maybe I should cancel my gig so we can spend the whole night together. No way. I love watching you perform. OK. I won‟t cancel, but just for you. I‟m forever in your debt, love.

Excitement swirled in Erika‟s stomach. In two days she‟d finally meet her phantom. He‟d made excuses over the months they‟d spent chatting online. It would ruin the 6

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mystique. He didn‟t want her to be disappointed. But how could he think she‟d be disappointed? He was her phantom, her own angel of music.

I can‟t wait to meet you F2F. Well…face to mask, lol. I just hope you like what you see. You know I don‟t care what you look like. Easy to say.

She‟d pictured him in her mind so many times. Okay, so she pictured the traditional figure from Gaston Leroux‟s book, but even if he were disfigured or homely or chubby, she didn‟t care. She just wanted to meet him. An error message interrupted her daydream.

Problem at work. BRB.

Clicking the chat window closed, she printed a screenshot of the error and ran downstairs to visit Cristian Roderick in the IT dungeon. The whir of all kinds of machines and stale recycled air met her entrance to the bottom floor. All the esoteric gizmos needed to run the store‟s computer network filled the basement. The temperature was kept at a chilly sixty-eight for the sake of the electronics. Wearing a pullover with the hood up, Cristian sat at his desk, fingers flying over the keyboard. He turned his gaze to her, ceasing typing immediately. “Er-erika,” he stammered, pulling the hood farther down the left side of his face. “Hey, Cris. Um—I can‟t connect to the database, I think my ODBC settings have gone wacky again.” She handed him the printout. “I don‟t understand how this keeps happening. Do you think my machine has a Spartan or whatever?”

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A ghost of a smile tugged at what she could see if his lips. “You mean Trojan. Did you take a look at the open database connectivity settings?” “You know I don‟t know how to do that.” “Don‟t worry about it. I‟ll reset them and I‟ll scan your system for issues just in case.” Erika waited for him to get up but he remained rooted to his seat, clacking away at the keyboard again. “Do you need to use my workstation to scan it?” she asked. “No, I can access your system from here. Just dismiss the error message when you get back to your desk. Given me ten minutes to fiddle with your ODBC.” “Oh, thanks.” She tried to make eye contact but he stared straight ahead at his monitor. “Well, bye then.” “B-bye.” She trotted upstairs, shaking her head. So hard to get a read on Cristian. If he were angry or annoyed by her recurring IT problems, she‟d never know. In the three years she‟d worked for the home furnishings store, he‟d never once looked her in the eye or addressed her directly. Which was too bad, because she thought beneath ratty sweatshirts lurked a handsome man. At least Erika was pretty sure he was handsome. Now and then she‟d catch a glimpse of hazel eyes or a shock of dark hair, not to mention he filled out a pair of jeans better than most techies would. The trill of her smartphone interrupted this line of thought—her boss asking where she was. “I‟ll be right there, Mr. Raleigh.” She replaced the phone in its holster. When she reached her cubicle, Mr. Raleigh stood there. Tripping over her desk chair, she rushed to sit down. “Sneaking an extra coffee break?” he asked.

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“No.” Erika studied her sensible shoes, her face and ears on fire. “Actually I was just down at IT. My ODBC is messed up again, I was working on the price increases and—” “Erika, I‟m only joking.” He handed her a stack of purchase orders to enter. “One of these days I‟m going to get you to laugh.” Not likely. She tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear and settled in at her desk. Mr. Raleigh‟s presence made her feel as though she couldn‟t breathe. He wore designer suits she couldn‟t afford, spoke Spanish and French with ease and hung out with all the other department heads after work. That she called him Mr. Raleigh instead of Victor— even in her private thoughts—was confirmation enough that she‟d never loosen up around him. It was for this reason that she understood Cristian‟s awkward mannerisms. She and Cris were wallflowers-in-arms.

***** Typing and uploads, typing and uploads. The day dragged on—an endless loop of data entry and updates to the store‟s central database. When Erika had taken the job in the merchandising department, she‟d thought maybe she‟d work her way up to designing displays or ordering products, but three years later, she found herself stuck in the same dead-end position she‟d accepted straight out of college. The time read four forty-five. With only fifteen minutes left to her workday, she allowed herself to play online a bit. She checked her email and posted on her social network page.

The countdown to bliss has begun!

A chat window opened. It was her phantom.

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Meet you online tonight at seven? Wouldn‟t miss it.

***** Seven p.m. on the dot, Erika logged in as Little Lottie. Immediately a chat window opened. It was the Phantom.

Good evening, love, so glad to have you all to myself. *Folding my arms around you*. Hey you. *giving you a kiss*. I agree. It‟s the best time of the day. So what melody have you been batting around? Check it out.

He sent her a link to his online storage drive. The MP3 file took less than a minute to download. Queuing up the file, she chewed at her thumbnail.

Stop chewing your nails.

Erika grinned.

It‟s spooky when you do that. How‟d you know I‟m biting my nail? You always chew on yourself when you listen to music. Or when you‟re nervous. It‟s really not fair that you‟ve seen me, but I‟ve never seen you. That you know of ;) LOL, right. That I know of. Did you hear the track? Listening now.

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She queued up the sound file on her computer and pushed play. Strains of piano chords streamed from the speakers. Picking up her guitar, she worked out the chord progression.

Love the D minor sprinkled in. A touch of Phantom, just for you.

Butterflies flitted around her stomach.

Can‟t wait to touch my phantom. *Caressing your face* We can take it slow on Saturday. I don‟t think I can. I‟ve waited long enough. Getting physical could be complicated. Sorry. I don‟t mean to press, but…what‟s the big deal about getting physical?

After a few seconds, the Phantom answered.

Because it takes our relationship to another level. I‟m ready. I‟m not sure I am.

Erika gritted her teeth. She wanted to type WHY!!!!!!!! over and over and over again. But she didn‟t. Instead, she replied,

Think about it. Please. I want to make love with you. I‟m sure. When you put it that way, it‟s hard not to think about it. Pun intended? ;)

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Yep. I‟m really hard. Mmm, I‟m sure that‟s a condition I can help you with. I‟m sure. Tell me more.

Tucking a lock of hair behind one ear, she glanced around her living room as if to be sure no one was watching her. She chuckled at her own idiocy. She was alone as usual—she lived alone, for crissakes.

I want you to kiss me passionately, pin me to the wall with your body. Oh yeah? And then let my hand slide up your thigh. I part my legs for you and you push a finger inside me. Are you touching yourself now? Yes.

She slid her hand into her panties, stroking her clit.

Turn on your webcam.

She sighed.

Nope. Only if there‟s quid pro quo. Fine. Keep going.

She extracted the hand from between her thighs to write.

When I‟m good and wet I want you to push your cock inside me. Yeah.

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And fuck me. Yeah. And come inside me as I come. I want to feel your juices dripping out of me. OH YEAH. God, you are so hot.

She chewed at her thumbnail and cast a guilty look around her apartment. The curtains and shades were all drawn.

I‟m not, but thank you. Whatever. If you talk like that on Saturday, I won‟t be able to control myself.

Her point exactly. If he could talk dirty like that here, what was his hang-up about Saturday night? Lacking the energy to beat a dead horse, she picked up her guitar. They spent the rest of the evening working on the music and lyrics to the new song the Phantom had begun composing. He understood music in a way she never had before. He spoke it like a language, composed full dialogues, telling her just how he felt in each chord progression. His talent awed her. By midnight, Erika yawned and stretched.

I‟m beat. Get some rest then, my Little Lottie. You too. Good night, Phantom. See you tonight in your dreams.

Maybe Saturday I’ll fall asleep in your arms, she thought but didn‟t tell him. She‟d pushed him enough tonight.

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Closing the chat window, she rose from her desk chair and shuffled off to bed. Gaston Leroux‟s Phantom of the Opera was already queued up on her e-reader. She read the scene where the phantom keeps Christine captive, training her voice—the implication that he was also training her body. Erika‟s thoughts turned to her phantom. The idea of being bound and fucked by a mysterious stranger appealed to her more than she dared admit to herself. She didn‟t know what to expect Saturday night but she still had her fantasies. Would he be gentle or would he take her by the hair, pinning her to the wall as he shoved inside her? Her heartbeat sped up just thinking about it, a familiar ache manifesting between her legs. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked at herself in the dresser mirror. One at a time, she undid the buttons of her pajama top. Teardrop-shaped breasts led to her soft abdomen and rounded hips. She wiggled out of her pants and knelt on the mattress, inspecting her naked form. As images of a dark figure stalking her spurred on her arousal, she stroked her skin and the mound between her legs. Hot and already wet, her labia swelled the more she imagined his hands on her body, his cock inside her. She licked a finger then slipped it into her pussy. Opening herself with careful strokes, she reached for her vibrator in the nightstand drawer. Her heart pounded harder with anticipation. She watched its rhythm pulse at the base of her throat as she withdrew her finger and wiped it across the tip of the dildo. With a moan, she pushed the smooth shaft inside herself. Her buttocks slipped off her heels and she sank lower, engulfing the entire dildo except the stimulator wand, which pressed to her clit. She flipped the switch and the vibrator sprang to life. Ripples of excitement surged through her, the space between each breath shortening until she was panting. Closing her eyes, she pictured her phantom, the hungry sounds he‟d make just before he took her. He‟d fuck her hard, so hard that at times she would hardly be able to stand it.

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She rode her dildo like that, as if she were helpless to control the Phantom and his animal need. With a moistened fingertip, she caressed one hard nipple then pinched it. Ecstasy rippled from her breast to her pussy. Muscles deep within her clamped around the vibrating shaft. She held it steady and continued to force herself down to the base and back up to the tip, then back down again. Searing heat built between her legs and radiated out, claiming her entire body. She held tight to the sweet tension and savored the few moments before it broke loose. Meeting her own gaze, she willed herself to come. Come for your phantom, she told herself, driving the vibrator into her slit. A wave of pleasure washed over her as she crested the peak of a powerful orgasm, struggling to keep her eyes open. She loved to watch herself climax. She drank in the sight of her body racked with ecstasy before a massive spasm forced her to slump forward. Muscles shaking, contractions sent rapture coursing through her. A choked cry clawed its way from her throat and she threw her head back, lost to the tide of sensation. All too soon, the powerful waves faded to mere ripples, then to a soft crackle of electricity between her legs. With a satisfied exhalation, she drooped backward onto the bed. One more shiver ripped through her as she withdrew the vibrator then dropped it onto the floor. Bathed in the afterglow, she turned to look at the Phantom of the Opera print on the wall. “Saturday,” she murmured, letting her eyes droop closed.

***** See you tonight in your dreams, he‟d written. But he didn‟t have to wait until bedtime to see Erika. He saw her dressed up as Little Lottie every time he closed his eyes. He could smell the white-chocolate undertones of the perfume she wore at work. Day after day he saw her, bored out of her mind in her cubicle or making a break for the door at

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exactly five o‟clock. She didn‟t even know he worked with her, that every day he longed to talk with her about more than just business, but she never seemed open to it. As if he‟d have the courage if she were. It‟d been an accident when he‟d first come across her performing at Masquerade, and even then he‟d hardly recognized her. He‟d heard about the club online—a place where everyone was accepted—and decided to stop by one Saturday night. A beautiful woman sang onstage. Melancholy acoustic guitar and her pure, clear soprano voice bewitched him. She‟d sung a haunting song she‟d written herself—though simplistic, it suited her. At the end of her set, he‟d noticed the Phantom of the Opera sticker on her guitar case. It was then the idea was born. That night, he‟d created the Phantom‟s profile on the social network where she advertised her gigs and sent her a friend request. Erika immediately accepted… Well, Little Lottie had accepted, because the two personalities seemed as though they belonged to totally different women. Where Erika was shy, quiet, desperate to avoid calling attention to herself, Lottie was vibrant and bold, with so much stage presence. Erika usually did her hair in a sloppy ponytail, wore slacks and oversized sweaters paired with flats or loafers. But as Lottie…oh, as Lottie—red hair spilling in loose curls over her delicately freckled shoulders, a pink minidress cut up to there, pouty red lips and five-inch stiletto heels. His cock sprang to life at the thought of running a hand up her long, shapely legs. Would her pussy get wet with just his touch or would she take some time to coax open like a ripe peach? What would she taste like? Would she be wild and daring or sweet and submissive? An endless stream of questions tortured him, his erection growing harder. Heaven knew he wanted to sink himself inside her. And she wanted him too. But when it came down to it—if she saw who he really was—would she still want him? He stripped off his shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. Regular workouts at home and good eating habits kept him lean and muscular, but it was kind of like putting lipstick on a pig. His fingers strayed to his face. He hadn‟t been truly handsome

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since he was nineteen years old—ten years ago. Ten years of one-night stands, fumbling around in the dark to sate his needs with women who wanted nothing more from him than he wanted from them. And inevitably, once they‟d gotten a quick fuck or two, the questions would come. That was his cue to leave. He never bothered to take their numbers, if they bothered to offer…which wasn‟t often. But it was all good. At least he‟d thought so until he‟d gotten to know Erika, until he‟d seen her as Little Lottie. She belonged with him. They were kindred spirits, hiding their true selves from the world. Falling in love with her was as easy and natural as breathing. Pulling on a black turtleneck, he narrowed his eyes at his reflection. With the mask over his face so only his lips and chin were exposed, he felt powerful, like the young man he used to be. He needed her to love him, it was worth the risk. If she wanted him to be her fantasy lover then that was what he‟d be.

***** August 14, 2001 Noon

Desiree pirouetted, the sun flashing off her flaxen hair. She was laughing, reaching for him. “Come here,” she said. He scrambled to stand. Catching her around the waist, he pulled her lithe body against his. Not as graceful as she, he tripped over his own feet and tumbled into the lake with her. She squealed, giggling, and then she kissed him. Her mouth on his, her soft skin slid against his. Despite the cool water, his cock stiffened. “I love you,” he murmured. “I love you too.” Sliding his hand under her bikini top, he freed her pert breasts. She melted against him, her mouth straying from his lips to his throat and collarbone. He groaned.

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The knot on his board shorts fought him but he managed to untie it without breaking free of her embrace. She hastened to remove her swimsuit bottoms. They‟d made love once already that afternoon, but that was the beauty of being nineteen. His body knew no limitations—he was powerful, strong… And dying to sink into her wet pussy. As he pushed his cock inside her, she tilted her head back, a moan on her lips. “God, you feel good,” she said. “So do you.” He captured a nipple between his teeth, rolling it against his tongue. Goose bumps rose on her skin and he smiled, her breast still in his mouth.

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Chapter Two Erika—no, not Erika—Little Lottie began her set with the new song she and the Phantom had collaborated on. Moody and dark, it was the perfect melody for the crowd. People swayed together beneath the red and purple lights of the club, all eyes fixed on her. Tonight she wore a violet corset-style minidress with black velvet piping, fishnet stockings attached to lacy garters and she finished the ensemble with a pair of purple stiletto demi boots. Her makeup was equally dramatic—smoky eyes and wine-colored lips set off her porcelain skin. Her hair cascaded in ringlets down her back. The packaging might‟ve been the first thing to catch the audience‟s attention, but she knew how to hold it, showcasing her voice with the melancholy notes of the guitar. Despite the fact that it was one of her best sets—the songs, the chemistry with the audience, her voice in peak form—it dragged by. She scanned the clubgoers for a masked man. There were guys with tattooed faces, a couple of wolfmen and countless vampires, but no phantom. Perhaps he was lurking in the shadows. Once she struck the final chord, she had to force herself to take a couple of curtsies, thanking the crowd for their adulation. The emcee came on stage to introduce the next act and Lottie scurried to exit. Stowing her guitar backstage, she ran to the restroom to freshen her makeup. Excitement churning in her stomach, she headed out front to the bar. The bartender passed her the usual—a vodka tonic with a lime. In their last online chat, the Phantom had told her to relax after her set and he‟d find her. Drink in hand, Lottie parked herself at a table, listening to the band play. An hour and a half later, yet another act took the stage and Lottie‟s hopes had slowly sunk to her feet. With a sigh, she trudged to the back of the club and collected

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her guitar case. A shadowy figure materialized down the hallway. She watched him, thumbnail straying to her mouth. He was dressed in black pants and turtleneck and there was something odd about his features. He was wearing a white mask. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. “Phantom?” she asked. The figure walked toward her and in the dim light she could see he was indeed wearing a mask. “You‟re late,” she said. “I‟m on my way out.” Without a word, he took the guitar case from her, pulling her to him with his other hand. He crushed his lips against hers, the musky scent of his cologne flooding her nostrils. Sliding his tongue over hers, he deepened the kiss. Adrenaline coursed through her, her skin electric, every nerve ending alive. She relaxed against him, grasping his broad shoulders. As he released her, her head swam with disjointed thoughts. She‟d been annoyed about something, but damned if she could remember what. Her rapid pulse echoed between her legs. She wanted more of him. Now. She moved to kiss him again but he put a finger to her lips. “If at any point you want me to stop,” he whispered in a raspy voice, “say chandelier.” “Chandelier? But what are you going to do that requires a safe word?” She chuckled, shaking her head. “What you asked me to do. But you have to follow the rules. I touch you. I undress you. You don‟t do anything to me unless I give you permission. And you never touch the mask. Understood?” Rules? She looked up at him. The mask hid his expression, but his tone was serious. His large frame overshadowed her. He was a big man, strong, she could feel the musculature through his shirt. With the mask, dark clothing and icy stare, he looked mysterious—menacing even—but she wasn‟t afraid. She longed for him to take her, the 20

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unknown adding to the excitement. Could she do this? Her pussy got wet just at the thought of moving forward. Yeah, she could do this. And she would. “I‟ll do whatever you tell me to do.” The words excited her as they formed on her lips. “Come on.” He took her hand, leading her into a darkened storage room. Surely he didn‟t intend to have sex with her here? She didn‟t have a chance to ask. He slid his mouth against hers, teasing her tongue. Eyes closed, she inhaled his scent— it was hard to tell where his cologne stopped and his natural scent began because they complemented each other perfectly. Not that it mattered; she couldn‟t get enough of either. He wrapped one of her legs around his waist, his hard cock pressing against her thigh. Breathless, she broke away from the kiss. “We can‟t do this here.” “Why not?” “We‟ll get caught.” “We won‟t.” Won’t we? She wanted to question him but sensed that she shouldn‟t. She‟d never done anything like this—nothing even close—and it was all moving so fast. True, she‟d asked him to make love to her, but… She bit her lip, contemplating the safe word. His hand in her panties kept her objections at bay. He stroked her clit, caressing her wet folds. Fuck it, she decided, adrenaline and arousal fueling her bravado. She captured his lips, throwing her arms around his neck. Clearly picking up on her shift in attitude, he ripped the string holding her flimsy panties together and let them fall to the floor. She gasped and giggled, feeling a smile tug at his lips too. Letting her fingers meander down his hard body, she lifted his shirt but he caught her wrists.

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“Breaking the rules already?” He released her and then turned her around, pinning her hands against the wall. “Stay like that.” His mouth brushed past her ear. The sound of his zipper filled her with anticipation. He lifted her dress, baring her ass and rubbing his cock along the cleft. Shivers darted through her. She wanted him to shove himself inside her. To fuck her hard and fast until her cum leaked down her legs. She wanted him to own her body, to do with her as he pleased. But he continued to tease her. He licked at her ear as he toyed with her nipples, pinching and brushing them through her clothing. Air moved over her backside as he shifted position. He licked between her ass cheeks, letting his saliva drip between her legs. Her pussy twitched, burning for him. “Please,” she whimpered. He stood up, his mouth against her ear again, his cock at her opening. “I like that you‟re begging me. Please what?” “Please. I want you inside me.” She heard the tear of a wrapper and the crinkle of a condom. Hands gripping her shoulders, he pushed his full length into her. He filled her, stretching her a little. Legs shaking, she bit her lips to contain a moan. Pulling down the straps of her dress, he freed her breasts. As he drove into her over and over again, he rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Pleasure raced through her and she choked back a cry. His other hand settled between her thighs, massaging her clit in time with his thrusting. As she grew wetter, he fucked her harder, bending her at the waist so he could plunge deeper. The head of his cock found a spot that set off sensations she‟d never experienced. Muscles inside her contracted of their own accord and the tension gripping her body grew unbearable. “Oh god,” she whispered. “Just like that.”

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He pulled her ass flush with his pelvis, rocking against that spot. Her pussy dripped juices down her legs, her body quaking uncontrollably. She came hard, panting to keep from crying out. But even as her climax receded, he wasn‟t finished with her. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulled her to a more upright position keeping himself buried inside her. He massaged her clit though her chest heaved and she begged him to stop—the sensation too much so soon after orgasm. But he didn‟t stop. She crested the wave of another climax, gasping for air as tears leaked down her cheeks. Burying himself inside her, he jerked and twitched, groaning as he too came. He rested his head against her shoulder, his breath rushing over her skin. Exhausted, she pressed her breasts against the cool wall. Once he withdrew, she turned to face him, a laugh bubbling up in her throat. “I can‟t believe we just…” she murmured, her hands roaming over her bared breasts. He disposed of the condom and zipped his trousers. Suddenly he moved forward and kissed her, his tongue filling her mouth. The mask felt oddly cool against her cheek. Savoring his taste and scent, she wrapped her arms around him and ran her hands over the bulges of muscle just beneath his clothes. Her head spun. Was this really happening or was she sound asleep, her subconscious weaving an elaborate fantasy? If this was a dream, she prayed she‟d never wake. As the kiss ended, she struggled to catch her breath. “You‟re everything I hoped you would be.” “You too, love.” He traced her chin with his fingertips. “And more.” A rustle outside the door snapped her back to reality. She whispered, “We shouldn‟t push our luck.” Righting her dress, she hurried to make herself presentable. He insisted on leaving the closet first to be sure the coast was clear. A few seconds later, he opened the storage room door, signaling for her to slip out. Grabbing her

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guitar case, he led her to the club‟s side exit. She trotted along as quickly as she could in stilettos. Hand over her mouth, she laughed with relief once they reached the back parking lot. He set down her guitar and took her in his arms. Caressing her face, he brushed his lips over hers and traced them with his tongue. Heat surged between her legs, she couldn‟t get enough of him—his taste, his scent, the warmth of his touch. “Will you stay with me tonight?” she asked. “We can go back to my place.” He kissed her gently before replying, “Not tonight. But soon.” “I don‟t want you to go.” She tightened her grip on his shoulders. “Tonight just started.” “I promise, next time we see each other, I‟ll stay the night.” He brushed his thumb over her lips. She nodded, casting her gaze to the ground. “Don‟t be sad.” He pressed his mouth to her cheek. He helped her into her car, giving her one last kiss as they parted. Lottie—no, not Lottie—Erika watched her phantom walk away, disappearing into the night just like the character from the book would‟ve. Her mind raced and her groin ached. Had all this really happened? Shaking her head, she struggled to make sense of his whirlwind departure.

***** Rushing down the street, he held the mask in place until he turned the corner. Then he stripped it off. He hadn‟t intended to leave her so soon, but the cheap spirit gum he‟d purchased at the costume shop wasn‟t strong enough. It was meant for a Halloween party, not anything that might work up a sweat. He‟d have to find some professional-grade adhesive before their next meeting. He wished he had on a jacket with a hood in case she drove by.

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A glance over his shoulder allayed his fears. She wasn‟t following him. Drawing in a deep breath, he tried to calm himself. Nerves had plagued him all night. He‟d almost wussed out, pacing around his living room, questioning his sanity. But as the time for their meeting slipped by, he couldn‟t bear the thought of standing her up. He‟d summoned all his courage and shown up, albeit late. Thankfully she hadn‟t sent him away. Despite his bravado with her, he‟d been terrified. And now the issue with the mask. He‟d narrowly avoided disaster. The stare from two drunken women confirmed his reticence to reveal himself to Erika. One of the women twittered and giggled. The other joined in. His face grew hot, setting his ears on fire. He wanted to turn around and growl at them, even roar like the monster he was sure they thought him to be. But he didn‟t. Instead, he hurried to the parking garage to collect his car. On the drive home, memories of being inside Erika flashed through his mind. So warm and wet. The fragrance of her skin. The way she moaned and trembled as she came. He rubbed his hard cock, adjusting it so that it didn‟t crush against his zipper. Yes, he‟d have to fix this mask issue, because he couldn‟t live without being inside her again.

***** Her watch beeped the hour at her. It was ten in the morning and Erika realized she‟d been staring at her computer screen for a good twenty minutes. Mondays at the evil day job never flew by but this one was dragging at an excruciatingly slow pace. She checked her watch again—10:01. Abandoning all pretense of work, she opened an IM screen and selected the Phantom from her contact list.

You there? Always for you.

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The reply came almost instantly. Excitement roiled in her belly, heat moving down her torso culminating between her legs.

I can‟t stop thinking about you. Me neither. And the things we did the other night. This all feels like a dream. *Pinch* did you feel that? LOL. Yeah. Guess I‟m not dreaming. You are amazing. I can still feel my hands on your body. Me too. And the scent of your pussy. The way you whimper when you come. OMG! I‟m at work. So am I. What‟s that matter?

She chuckled, glancing up to verify that her boss was ensconced in his office. Was it her imagination or was he looking right at her? She waved at him and he returned the salutation.

My boss is watching me. Tell him to screw off, you‟re taken. Can‟t blame him though. If my office were facing your desk, I‟d stare at you all day too. You‟re so bad. :) But in a good way. Yeah. In a good way. Talk to you tonight, Little Lottie. Tonight, Phantom.

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Erika logged out and locked her computer before she left her cubicle. In the office kitchen, a group of workers had gathered for the usual coffee break, clucking away like caged hens. “How was your weekend, Erika?” one woman asked. “Oh just the same old, same old,” Erika replied, suppressing a smirk. As her coworker resumed her conversation with the lady from accounting, Erika hummed to herself, pouring a cup of dubious-looking java. Yep, just the same old, same old. Got all tarted up, played a gig at the role-players‟ club and then had wild animal sex with a masked man. God, if the chicken coop only knew. A smile on her lips, Erika returned to her desk. Only seven more hours and she could go home.

***** “What do you mean the chord progression is stilted? It‟s perfect,” the Phantom

wrote.

No way. I think it sounds better like this.

Erika sent him the file she‟d recorded earlier in the evening. The new piece they were working on wasn‟t flowing like it usually did. After he‟d listened he replied.

I suppose it‟s not horrible the way you‟ve reworked it. Gee, thanks, lol…so maybe this Saturday we can compose something in the same room for once. Maybe. If you want, but I have other plans for Saturday. Oh yeah? Like what?

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Maybe something along the lines of last Saturday, only this time I get to pleasure you all night. Yes, no hit and run this time, please…THAT I could get with. :) Why don‟t you come to my place. Maybe. Or I could come to yours unless you really live in the sewers of Paris, then I‟m thinking not. LOL. I don‟t live in a sewer, but your place is good.

Erika had butterflies in her stomach when she responded.

Cool. 8pm. Don‟t be late. If I‟m late, will you spank me? WEG. Keep giving me a „wicked evil grin‟ and I‟ll let you spank me.

As soon as she‟d sent the reply, she regretted it. What was she thinking? But that was the effect he had on her. For some reason all her secret desires bubbled to the surface with him.

O.O Do you really want me to spank you? Don‟t get all excited. I was just kidding. I don‟t think you were.

She chewed at her bottom lip as she typed.

Let‟s just get back to the song. You don‟t have to be embarrassed. I‟ll do whatever you want me to do. I‟m open to it.

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Her cheeks burned and her chest felt tight but despite the mortification, a familiar tingle had begun between her legs.

We‟ll talk about it Saturday. As you wish… So let‟s fix what you did to my song.

Erika let out a relieved giggle.

Whatever :P.

***** August 14, 2001 3:00 p.m.

Desiree was so pretty when she smiled. Hell, she was beautiful 24/7, but especially when she smiled. Her eyes sparkled as she laughed and passed him the joint. He took a hit and gave it back to her. Cracking open another beer, he took a swig. “You want one?” he asked. “No.” She snickered. She always got the giggles when she was stoned. Flopping backward, she stretched out her long legs in the grass. He lay down next to her. Fat, fluffy white clouds inched across the blue sky. The sun crept lower. She threaded her fingers in his hair and rolled onto her side. Her lips met his. Though he‟d closed his eyes, he could still see the clouds and the sky. As she slipped her tongue into his mouth, he saw her skipping through a field of flowers. He chuckled. God, he was high. When she reached inside his swim trunks and circled her hand around his stiff cock, the laughter died in his chest, replaced by heat and hunger. He pulled her on top

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of him. Her hair spilled around his face, her scent enveloped him. His pulse pounded between his legs and he couldn‟t free himself from his trunks fast enough.

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Chapter Three Though she‟d been expecting it, the knock startled Erika. She smoothed the bodice of her strapless dress and, with a deep breath, pulled open the front door. The Phantom‟s large frame filled the doorway, the same mask hiding his features. “Hey.” She grinned. “Come in.” In one fluid motion, he entered her condo and wrapped his arms around her. Crushing his mouth to hers, he coaxed her lips open and slid his tongue over hers. Breathless, she pushed him away gently, stammering, “I-I thought we‟d talk, have some wine…” She took a moment to drink in his appearance—a black dress shirt and black pants with a white silk scarf hanging loosely around his neck. And of course a white mask covered most of his face except his chin and mouth. Despite the dark clothing, his muscular build was apparent beneath it. As always, he portrayed a beautifully wrapped contradiction. Black and white. Strong but timid. Mysterious but completely open. Well…not completely. His raspy voice intruded on her musings. “Haven‟t we chatted enough online this week?” He ran his hand up her thigh, hooking a thumb in the waistband of her panties. “But if you want…” “No.” She wrapped a leg around him, pressing against his hard abdomen. “Silly me, what was I thinking?” Without warning, he scooped her up. “Which way to your bedroom?” She pointed to the right. Carrying her down the hall seemed to take little effort. In her room he laid her out on the bed, sitting next to her. From his pocket, he pulled several strips of satiny fabric.

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As soon as she realized what they were for, she bolted upright. Fantasizing about bondage and allowing him to tie her up were two very different things. “What do you think you‟re going to do with those?” “Relax, love.” He caressed her face. “We won‟t do anything you don‟t want to do. I thought this was what you wanted.” A flush spread through her chest and raced between her thighs. “I do. But…” His hand meandered down her torso, grazing over her erect nipple. “But…?” Her heart nearly clattered out of her chest. Easing herself backward to lie on the bed, she wondered what spell he held over her. The boundaries he helped her cross— they intoxicated her, but she‟d never trust anyone else like this. “Do you remember the safe word?” he asked. “Chandelier.” He nodded, his fingers hitching up the skirt of her dress. “So…?” She swallowed hard. “Okay. But if it turns out to be too much—” “I‟ll stop.” He stood, pulling one of the ties through his hand. “I just want to please you, Erika.” His words held her fear at bay, the heat building between her legs winning out over the nervous churning of her stomach. Her hand trembling, she reached out to touch his mask but he shied away. A surge of empathy coursed through her. Just what fueled his fear, she couldn‟t say, but she knew one thing for sure—they were the same. Two people afraid of the real world and somehow they‟d wound up here together, playing this game. But it was their game. Their rules. She pulled him to her, kissing him gently at first, then more urgently as she breathed in his scent. Her lips still to his she murmured, “Let‟s do this.” Without words, he spread out her limbs, carefully binding her arms to the posts of her headboard. Her cheeks flamed, the warmth spreading down her body reaching a

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pinnacle between her thighs. Her pussy throbbed, aching for him, and he‟d only just begun. Unzipping the side closure of her dress, he pulled it down her body and discarded it on the floor. Cool air rushed over her bare torso and she shivered. He took off her panties, inhaling their scent before dropping them to the floor. “Smells so good.” He crawled onto the bed, parting her legs. She twittered, goose bumps rising on her skin. As he kissed a trail from her knee to her groin he whispered to her, but she couldn‟t hear his words over the blood roaring in her ears. He swiped her labia with his tongue and a jolt of pleasure shot through her. “Tastes good too,” he said. She groaned, clenching her fists. She longed to run her hands over his skin, the expanse of this back. “Take off your shirt,” she said. “At least let me look at you if I can‟t touch you.” “Not yet.” He shook his head, the mask grazing the insides of her thighs. She shivered. His tongue plunged inside her, hot and wet. With a moan, she pulled at the restraints again. He ran the tip of his tongue up to her clit, massaging the tight bud. More pleasure rippled through her body, her mouth falling open as her breath quickened. She wrapped her legs around his shoulders but he slipped out of their grasp. “So impatient,” he scolded. Writhing against the bed, she replied, “Well, this is all new for me.” A mischievous smile twisted his lips. “Me too.” “You don‟t do this with all the girls?” she teased. He chuffed a humorless laugh. “No.” Running a hand over her torso, he settled between her thighs, his lips on hers. He slid his tongue into her mouth, softly playing with hers. She breathed in his scent,

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nuzzling her nose against his cheek as if she could inhale all of him. His hard cock pressed against her hipbone. She was wet and ready for him but she knew he had no intention of making love to her yet. All too soon their mouths parted and he moved off her, curling up next to her. Plucking her e-reader from the nightstand, he turned on the bedside lamp. “What are you doing?” she asked but he didn‟t answer. He scrolled through the long list of titles, clearly searching for something specific. “What are you doing?” she repeated. He held up a finger, a smile parting his lips. “Close your eyes.” Though she didn‟t understand why, she did as she was told. She felt him move closer, his breath tickling her ear. A shiver passed through her. “„The challenge is there between us now. I can feel the soft cashmere against my heavy breasts, the turgid tips painfully sensitive‟,” he read from one of her favorite books, Hide and Secret by Denysé Bridger. If she‟d read it once, she‟d read it a hundred times. He went on, “„You know too—I can see it in your eyes. Before I can catch it, you slide one of your hands under my skirt and penetrate me with your fingers. A spasm of shocked pleasure rockets through me and the sound of your fingers moving inside me is a moist whisper in the silent tension of the room‟.” As he read, he slid his hands between her legs, pushing two fingers inside her. Erika gasped, her body aching for more of him, but she was powerless to act on the desire. He read more, his fingers moving inside her, “„Carefully I ease forward to the edge of the sofa and your fingers delve deeper. I pull the sweater over my head and toss it aside, then I stroke my breasts, cupping and offering them to you. Grinning, you bend and you lick, circling a rigid tip over and over before you take it into your mouth and suckle, first one nipple then lavishing the same attention on the other. Between my legs, your fingers are exploring, slick and sticky as you stroke and glide in and out of me‟.”

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Leaning forward, he traced a tight nipple with his tongue and raked his teeth across it. Her body tingling from head to toe, she moaned, arching her back. He worked his fingers and pulses of pleasure overtook her. His voice soft and low, he continued to read the sexiest passages she‟d marked in the story. Using a slow rhythm, he moved his fingers in and out of her, each flex of his forefinger taking her closer to climaxing. “Faster,” she begged, but he kept a steady pace. Her body was trembling, so near release, but it remained just out of reach. “Play with my clit. Please, I need to come,” she said, praying this time he would acquiesce. He set the e-reader aside and withdrew his fingers. Groaning in protest, she writhed and stamped a foot against the mattress. Another tie in hand, he ran it down her thigh and grasped her ankle. Once he‟d lashed it to the footboard, her knee bent, he did the same with her other leg. She lay completely helpless, splayed out for him, her pussy throbbing. “Is this your plan? To tease me all night?” she asked, pulling against the restraints. Passing a hand over her mound, one finger caressing her clitoris, he grinned. “I don‟t have a plan but don‟t worry. I promise I‟ll make you come several times tonight.” With that declaration he climbed onto the bed, settling between her legs. He spread her labia, exposing the sensitive bud of nerve endings. The heat of his tongue on her pussy intensified the already unbearable ache. Using just the tip, he flicked at her clit. Overwhelmed by the sensation, she panted and moaned, her legs shaking. She sighed. “I‟m going to come.” He pulled away again. “No.” She jerked at the ties that bound her hands, clenching her eyes shut. Teardrops leaked down the sides of her face. “Please make me come. Please.” “You know I love when you beg me.” His breath grazed her swollen pussy.

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“Is that what I have to do? Beg you?” “Couldn‟t hurt. Tell me what you want.” “I want to come.” “More than that.” With the lightest of touches, he strummed her clitoris. “Do you want me to make love to you?” “Yes.” “How? Slowly and sensually or hard and fast like the other night?” She wasn‟t sure which answer would get her what she wanted, but ever since he‟d fucked her so exquisitely last Saturday, she‟d longed for him to take her like that again. Even now, her body burned at the thought of him getting a little rough with her. “Hard and fast,” she murmured. “I liked that you were…forceful with me. It turns me on.” Though she heard herself speaking the words, she could hardly believe she‟d uttered them. Her own boldness spurred on her arousal, the tension between her legs unbearable now. “Really?” The lilt in his tone indicated how pleased he was by her choice. He moved around the bed, untying her legs completely, but her arms he released only from the headboard. He left the ties around her wrists and wound the other ends around his hand. Pulling her to a seated position at the edge of the bed, he stood before her. “Take my scarf. Tie it over your eyes,” he told her. Hands trembling, she did as instructed. She was unable to see, her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Once he let go of the restraints, she heard him undo his zipper. His hand cupped her face and guided her mouth to his erect cock. Running her tongue over the soft head, she let a little saliva run down the shaft. After a couple of playful passes, she took him into her mouth. A groan escaped him. “Take all of it.” He thrust forward.

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Eager to please him, she moved her lips to the base, doing her best to suppress her gag reflex. “Yeah, that‟s good.” Encouraged by his praise, she applied pressure with her tongue and lips as she worked up to the tip then down the shaft again. Erika did this over and over until he gasped and pulled away. Without warning he bowled her over, his mouth on hers as he pushed her knees up to her chest. She heard the tear of the condom wrapper and a few second later he was inside her. Crying out a little, she grasped at his shirt. “Did I hurt you?” he murmured, his mouth still against hers. “Not in a bad way.” She hooked a leg around him. A mischievous growl rumbled in his chest. His tongue licking at hers, he thrust into her over and over. His pelvis slapped at her ass, stinging a little then a lot the harder he fucked her, but the pain only added to the gorgeous heat and tension building inside her. The wetter her pussy grew, the more powerful his thrusts became. “Yes,” she cried, threading her fingers in his hair. In this moment, her body belonged to him. Ecstasy feeding on just the right amount of agony took her higher. She‟d never let anyone have her like this, but then this was no ordinary man. This was her phantom. Her dream come to life. She ached to come for him, to feel him release inside her, their bodies and souls one, if only for tonight. Breaking free of her mouth, he pulled her closer to the edge of the mattress and freed the leg she held tight around him. He pinned her thighs apart, one thumb working her clit, and drove himself into her. Her body spasmed, her pussy tightening around his cock. She forced a few jerky breaths into her lungs, clutching at the hands holding her open.

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Please don’t stop, she said a silent prayer. And he didn‟t. A massive orgasm washed over her, her body quaking, her cries uncontrollable. Powerful muscle contractions sent wave after wave of pleasure through her. She gave herself over to the ecstasy enveloping her. She moaned and writhed against the bed, able to do little else. Slowly, the intensity of the sensations faded and she descended from the peak, but he wasn‟t through with her yet. Changing his rhythm to shorter, faster strokes, he continued to toy with her clit. She sucked in a breath through her teeth. He‟d done this to her last time, made her come again before she was ready. “Too soon,” she said. Her objections fell on deaf ears—he continued to massage her clitoris. Her eyes watered and she set her jaw, fresh spasms rocking her body. Another climax took her and she arched her back—frozen by the shock and intensity of it—hoarse cries dying in her throat. Arching his back too, he buried himself inside her, holding her flush against his pelvis. He jerked and twitched, sighing as he came. Slumped together, a heap of exhausted flesh, she nestled her head in the crook of his neck. The musk of his skin somehow comforted her, the raw heat of arousal replaced by warmth—the feeling that she was home at last. Giving her cheek a gentle kiss he withdrew from her. She pushed the blindfold from her eyes and glimpsed a little of his torso. A few buttons had popped on his shirt and he was fastening them and the closure on his pants. Something caught her eye, something out of place, unusual. A flash of darkness on his otherwise fair skin. Perhaps a pebbled, uneven texture along the left side of his abdomen. “Is that a scar?” She reached out to reveal the skin again. He turned away. “I didn‟t say you could take off the blindfold.” Once he‟d tucked in his shirttails and disposed of the condom, he sat down on the edge of the bed, his back still to her. 38

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“I didn‟t mean to upset you.” She moved to sit beside him. “You didn‟t.” But his tone contradicted his words. Unsure what else to do, she untied her wrists and cast the restraints to the floor. Lowering herself onto her side, she snuggled against him. “Read to me some more. Please.” At first he didn‟t respond. He rubbed his palms against his trousers and let out a heavy sigh. “Please,” she repeated. He picked up the e-reader and clicked through the selections. Easing himself back, he lay beside her. One arm around her, he positioned her head on his shoulder. His deep voice, both amplified and muffled by the proximity of her ear to his chest, formed a comforting drone. She smiled at the book he‟d selected. Phantom of the Opera. And to her surprise, he read scenes with Christine and Raoul. “That‟s funny,” she murmured. “What?” “I thought you‟d rather read about Christine and the Phantom.” She felt him shake his head. “No.” “Why not?” He chuffed a halfhearted sigh. “I‟d much rather be Raoul than the Phantom.” “Why? The Phantom‟s the more romantic figure.” “Maybe. But Raoul gets the girl.” His admission tugged at her heart and she found herself at a loss for words. Clearly someone had been very unkind to him. But how and why? He was the most exciting man she‟d ever met…well, sort of met. He could be funny, he could be gentle. He knew how to take control and when to relinquish it. He was everything she wanted in a lover. 39

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“I‟d pick you over Raoul any day,” she said softly. He kissed the top of her head and continued reading until she drifted off to sleep.

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Chapter Four Waking with a start, Erika reached for the body next to her. The Phantom stroked her hand. “Shh, love. I‟m here.” Covering his hand with hers, she replied, “I thought I might‟ve missed you leaving.” He sat up and kissed her gently, the mask cool against her cheek. “How long was I asleep?” she asked. “A couple hours.” “Felt like longer.” She yawned. “I like having you here. I feel safe.” Cupping her face in his hands, he leaned in again, running his mouth over hers, sliding his tongue between her lips. The neighborhood had grown quiet and she felt as though they were the only two people in the world. How she wished that were true, that the real world would never intrude on them. As their lips parted, she let out a long, slow breath. Suddenly aware of her naked body, she pointed to his clothed form. “You‟re still dressed.” He nodded. “Why?” she asked. The word hung heavily between them but he offered no explanation.

Erika‟s gaze bored into him. Patient yet pleading, her expression couldn‟t have cut him deeper. Why? she‟d asked. He‟d asked this question of himself hundreds of times. Just go up to her, talk to her. What’s the worst that happens? She’s not interested. He‟d survived heartbreak in the past…hadn‟t he?

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No, not survived. Not as a whole person. And what piece of himself would he lose if Erika turned him away? Or if she laughed at him? Or worse—if she gave him that piteous look, the one he‟d learned to live with, but not from her. He couldn‟t stand it from her. Desperate to please her, he racked his brain for a solution. “Just a second,” he whispered. Scrambling to his feet, he looked for the scarf he‟d discarded earlier. Once he found it, he held out his hand. “Come here.” As the sheet fell away from her, he was taken by the beauty of her body and the grace of her movement. She stood before him, unabashed, her round breasts inviting him to take them in his mouth and suckle at each nipple. Ignoring the swell of his cock, he secured the blindfold over her eyes. He‟d take his time. Let her explore…as much as he could. “More games?” she asked, but not as impatiently as her words sounded at first. A smile played on her lips. Touching her fingertips to the silk scarf over her eyes, she laughed again. Clearly she liked his games, hopefully she‟d continue to indulge him. With a deep breath to steady himself, he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor. A shiver passed through him though the room was perfectly warm. Taking her hand in his, he pressed her palm to his chest. Her fingertips fluttered and she licked her lips. He guided her hand over her his torso, down to his pants. Allowing her to unbutton his trousers, he pushed his underwear down with them. As if by instinct, she gripped his cock then pushed her hand down it to caress his sac. Heat and desire surged through him. He needed to sink himself into her. Through clenched teeth, he sucked in a breath. Take your time, he reminded himself. Easier thought than done. He threaded his fingers in her hair and pulled her into another kiss. The feel of her bare skin against his set him on fire. It‟d been too long. Too long without really being touched. So many years without her kind of tenderness. He trembled, fighting with the

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emotions stirring inside him. Willing himself to stay in the moment, he let the kiss end, resting his forehead against hers. She slid her hands up his abdomen and he took hold of them again, placing them on his ass. With a squeeze, she whispered, “Nice.” “Thanks.” He chuckled. “Your body feels gorgeous. Let me see you.” One hand moved to her blindfold. “No.” He moved her hand away. “Will I ever get to look at you—all of you?” Would she? He hadn‟t decided that himself. “One day,” he said. She ran her palm over the head of his cock. His breath caught in his throat. “But you like when I touch you there.” “Of course I do. What‟s not to like?” A smile on her lips, she caressed the shaft, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through him. He‟d been as patient as he could be. His hands beneath her buttocks, he picked her up and deposited her on the bed. “Roll over.” She turned on to her stomach and he eased on top of her. Pinning her legs apart, he reached for one of the fresh condoms he‟d left on her nightstand. Once properly sheathed, he pushed himself inside her. She whimpered, spreading wider for him, and he loved that she did this. Excitement washed over him and, as deep as he pushed into her, he couldn‟t get enough. The slick heat of her pussy radiated through the condom. He shuddered. Think about baseball. He closed his eyes, biting his bottom lip. Controlling his movements, he kept a slow and steady pace despite the way she was grinding her ass against his pelvis. Bare skin to bare skin, the sensation drove him wild, her back a sea of porcelain, a smattering of freckles peppering her skin, her hips

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perfect and smooth. And with every stroke, she moaned, her voice faltering with apparent ecstasy. Think about baseball…yeah, right. Somehow he fought off the urge to fuck her hard, to make her scream out for more. This time, a rare moment of intimacy, he wanted to make it last as long as he could. His lips to her neck, he slipped a hand beneath her. Her clit was swollen so he used gentle pressure to massage it. Her moans turned into panting, her pussy tightened and he knew she was close. “You‟re so beautiful,” he whispered. A groan was her only response. Pressing her buttocks against his hips, she reached behind her and hooked her arm around his neck. Her body trembled beneath him. Shortening his thrusts, he worked to bring her to orgasm. Finally she cried out, a rush of liquid warmth enveloping his shaft. Her head tilted back, she sought out his lips. He kissed her hard, laving at her tongue as he delved deeper inside her. Though he‟d intended to make love to her longer, make her come at least once more, the contractions around his shaft pushed him over the edge. Pleasure gripped him, building to a powerful ejaculation. He broke free of her lips and sucked in a sharp breath. Shaking, he buried himself in her until the climax began to ebb. “God…” he murmured, resting his head against her shoulder. “Mm hm,” she replied, relaxing beneath him. Sweaty and spent, he eased out of her, disposing of the condom. She wriggled onto her side, still wearing the blindfold. “Just give me a second to dress and you can take that off.” He moved to the edge of the bed but she caught his hand. “If I keep it on, will you hold me, just like you are?”

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The request pierced his heart. He hadn‟t lain in bed, lazy and naked after sex with anyone in…in years. He felt as though he couldn‟t swallow, tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. She couldn‟t have asked for anything more perfect. Draping one of his arms over her, he spooned her. Again, the sensation of her skin on his sated a need he‟d neglected for too long. Except he‟d never realized how much he‟d missed this. And he‟d once been sure he didn‟t deserve to be this happy. “You‟re amazing.” He kissed the soft spot beneath her ear. “Same could be said for you.” With that, she fell asleep in his arms for the second time that evening.

***** August 14, 2001 3:30 p.m.

When Desiree came, she always squeezed her eyes shut. At least, she usually did. But this time she kept her eyes wide open, giving him all of her as she quaked beneath him. “You‟re beautiful,” he managed to say as he too came. Arching his back, he held himself inside her. After his body quieted, he settled on top of her but didn‟t withdraw, enjoying the sticky heat around his cock. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you too.” She brushed her lips over his, a languid kiss that seemed to go on for days. God, he wished they could stay at the lake for days, but school started on Monday. Finally his erection softened, forcing him to slip out of her. He rolled onto the blanket, pulling her to him. Her head on his chest, she stroked his sparse chest hair. “I can‟t believe how lucky I am,” he said before he could stop himself.

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“How so?” He swallowed. Could he confess this? Should he? Of course he had to. The feelings were too big to keep to himself. They pressed at this chest, threatening to choke him. “I used to th-think,” he stammered. Stupid stutter. It‟d made his childhood hell, but he‟d learned to control it. It only reared its ugly head when he was nervous or angry. He took a deep breath and started again. “I used to think all I ever wanted was to write music. When I got into the conservatory, I thought, at last I can focus on my compositions.” She nodded. “You write it and I‟ll dance to it.” “But now the music isn‟t enough.” Propping herself up on one elbow, she met his gaze. “It isn‟t?” “No. Since we met—Desiree, you’re my future.” She was smiling, he could feel it against his skin. “Am I crazy, getting this deep? I mean the summer‟s been amazing.” “You‟re not crazy.” Her blonde locks jostled as she shook her head. “I‟ve been thinking about it too. Dreaming—marriage after we graduate, the big house in Connecticut, the whole nine yards.” “Connecticut?” He balked. “I thought we‟d live in the city.” “Well, at first, of course—while we‟re working on our big breaks, but I‟m not raising kids in New York.” “Oh. I forgot about the kids,” he teased. “What were their names again?” “Aubrey, Jason and Thelonius.” “Thelonius? I don‟t think so.” “But he‟s one of your favorite musicians.” “As is Beethoven, but I don‟t plan on naming one of our children Ludwig.” “How about we name him after you?”

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“And what if they‟re all girls?” “Well, your name would work for a boy or girl.” He nodded. So much smarter than he, she had it all worked out. Best to go along with her plan for their life. Everything made more sense through her eyes. Settling her against his chest, he closed his eyes. He‟d need a nap and a couple of hours to sober up before the drive home.

***** At first Erika mistook the warmth of the sun on her naked body for her lover‟s caress but it lacked his tenderness and skill. She opened her eyes to find the world a soft fuzzy white. The scarf. She pushed it from her eyes and blinked, trying to focus. Turning on her side, she found a pink calla lily on the pillow next to her. Her phantom was gone. But really, she hadn‟t expected to find him here. As she stirred awake, her mind registered the strangeness of the gift. How had he known her favorite flower? Sitting up, she picked up the lily and touched it to her cheek. She pulled herself from the bed and trudged into the bathroom to relieve herself, then to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. A bottle of wine sat on the counter with a note.

Meant to give you this earlier, but we got…distracted. Hope you like it—P.

In her mind, she heard the timbre of his voice, the way he‟d pause just before he‟d murmur the word “distracted” and the sly smile that would accompany the word. Something about the way he spoke seemed at once familiar and odd, but she couldn‟t place it. Picking up the bottle, she studied it. Again, he‟d come up with something she loved. It was the latest release from a winery in southwest Virginia she frequently ordered from. Come to think of it, how had he known any of it? The flower, Hide and Secret, and now the wine?

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He was either the world‟s most attentive man or a crazy stalker—only a fine line separated the two. But something nagged at her. There was a reason he knew all these things about her. Could the Phantom be someone she knew in real life? And if so, why all the secrecy? The beauty of his touch last night and scenes of the mind-blowing sex played in her head. He knew her body as well as he knew her taste in books and wine. Desire for him flared between her thighs and she heard her own voice in her mind, crying for him. To hell with all her questions. No need to rock the boat. At least not now. She‟d been lonely for too damn long and she‟d take love however it came to her. Even if it wore a mask for reasons she didn‟t understand.

***** Hey, beautiful.

An instant message window popped open on Erika‟s laptop. The Phantom. Seven p.m. on the dot. Her heartbeat sped up.

Hey you :). Thanks for the wine. You‟re welcome. Do you like it? I love it, but I suspect you already knew that. Moi? WEG How did you know? A magician never reveals his tricks.

Memories of the night before set off butterflies in her stomach. Her pussy ached for him.

Last night was…let‟s put it this way, no one has ever touched me the way you do.

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As beautiful and brilliant as you are? That can‟t be true.

Her cheeks grew hot. Every time he called her beautiful, a voice inside her contradicted him. Her sister the beauty pageant queen was beautiful. Gorgeous. And her brother, doctor of chemistry at Bucknell, he was the brilliant one. Erika was, what were the words her mother used? Reliable. Punctual. Stable. How could Erika argue? She lived within her means, paid her bills on time, saved twenty percent of her income. While she didn‟t love her job, she did it to the best of her ability. She rarely called in sick and when she did, she really was sick. She balanced her checkbook every month, worked out three or four times a week—she flossed religiously. Most nights she spent with a good book. God, no wonder most men never noticed her. Just thinking about her life bored her to tears. That was until recently. If only her family knew about Erika‟s double life. If they knew about Little Lottie and her freaky affair with a masked man, what adjectives would her mother use then? She took a sip of wine and pulled her guitar out of its case.

I‟ve been working on the new song. Let‟s hear it :)

Recording the revamped melody, she let her insecurities slip away. Maybe she had moments of beauty and brilliance. If anyone could bring out these qualities in her, it was her phantom. Of that much, Erika was sure.

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Chapter Five The week had been a busy one. Mr. Raleigh would be traveling in and out of town for several days meeting with vendors in different locations. He‟d assigned Erika the task of preparing all the reports he‟d need. By Thursday she‟d crunched enough numbers to hold her a lifetime. “Isn‟t this what an assistant‟s for?” she muttered, collating the last of the documents. “What?” Mr. Raleigh asked. “Nothing.” She snapped the papers into a binder. “Here you go.” “Thanks so much for all your help.” He held her gaze. “Couldn‟t have done it without you.” “Right.” Skimming her hand as he picked up the reports, he said, “I‟m serious. Why don‟t you take Monday off? I won‟t be here to bother you.” His grin lit up his face in a way that melted her heart and set her naughty bits to tingling. “You don‟t bother me,” she said. “Liar.” He grinned again and his aim was true, piercing her heart as if it were Cupid‟s arrow. “How long will you be gone?” “A week and a half.” “Then can I take the whole week off?” she joked. “Ha ha. But seriously, take Monday for yourself—with pay.”

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Studying his deep brown eyes, she nodded. He stood close enough that she could smell his cologne and feel body heat coming off him in waves. With a hitch in her voice, she replied, “Thanks. I‟ll do that.” “See you next Monday. Don‟t miss me too much.” He exited the conference room. Though Erika wouldn‟t miss the mounds of mind-numbing work he deposited on her desk each day, she would miss watching him swagger through the office. With a sigh, she cleared the table of the leftover office supplies.

***** Guess what!

Erika took a sip of herbal tea.

It turns out you‟re a long, lost princess of a small Eastern Bloc country? LOL. No. But almost as good—I have a long weekend, if you could play hooky from work on Mon we‟d have three days together. How ever shall we entertain each other? :) Oh. Sorry, love. I wish I could spend the time with you, but I can‟t. I‟ve been meaning to tell you, I won‟t be able to see you this Saturday.

A lead weight tugged at her heart and she slouched in her chair. “What?” she said to herself. They‟d spent every Saturday together online, chatting or discussing her performance, even before they met in real life. Was it silly of her to assume they‟d spend every weekend together now?

Why not? Something I have to take care of, but I‟ll be back by next weekend. Sorry. Don‟t be. Not your fault. I was just really excited.

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I know. And I promise, I‟ll make it up to you OK… What am I going to do with myself all weekend? Well, you have your gig at Masquerade, right? Yeah. I have an idea, I‟ll bring my laptop and webcam, we can meet online. Sunday night, though. Can‟t do it Saturday.

While a video chat was far from ideal, it was better than nothing, better than the loneliness that plagued her in his absence.

OK. Sunday night it is.

Her excitement thoroughly deflated, she stared at the keyboard, at a loss for words.

I‟ve disappointed you. No. It‟s not your fault. It is what it is. I‟ll plan something really special for Sunday, I swear. It‟ll be just as good as if I was there.

She doubted the veracity of his statement, if not the intent.

I‟m sure it will be :)

***** Looking down at the outfit she had planned for tonight, Erika felt no rush of excitement—not like she usually would. The stockings, the corset, the organza skirt— none of it seemed any more special than the khaki slacks she often wore to the evil day job, but she dressed herself anyway. Then she attended to her makeup, but for the first 52

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time since she‟d created her stage persona, the kohl eyeliner, the wine-colored lipstick, the false eyelashes—they felt like a mask instead of an expression of the person buried deep inside her, bound by the need to do the “right” thing. She wasn‟t even sure what the “right” thing was anymore. Was it right to share the truest parts of herself with strangers and play a part with her family? Was it right that she‟d learned to live with being perceived as unexceptional? Was it okay for the people who loved her make her feel this way? No— that isn’t fair of me. She blotted her lipstick. No one could make her feel anything, but they could ignore, overlook, withhold praise. They could look right through her as if she didn‟t exist. How she processed their behavior, well, that was up to her, wasn‟t it? Clipping pink extensions at various intervals throughout her hair, she reminded herself that she‟d found someone who treated her as if she were an extraordinary woman. It was this knowledge that propelled her forward—out the door, guitar case in hand. By nine, her mood had deflated again. Even before they‟d met in real life, singing at Masquerade had become a private performance, something she did just for the Phantom. For his admiration. Without him there, what was the point of going on? But her singing hadn‟t started that way. It‟d been something she‟d done for herself, her guilty pleasure, something she did alone in her bedroom, a hairbrush as her microphone. Then one ordinary Sunday, she‟d found a hot-pink flyer stuffed under her windshield wiper. She‟d been at the mall running errands, lost in a sea of anonymous shoppers. Erika saw many of the other women as better dressed than she, confidence oozing from every pore. Beautiful hair, beautiful makeup, as if they‟d come from a meeting of a secret society to which Erika would never belong. They seemed to know something she did not. It was this perception combined with the advertisement for open auditions at a new club called Masquerade that had given birth to Lottie, though the process hadn‟t been

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easy. Meg had helped her with her makeup for the audition, but Erika had vomited and bolted for the parking lot twice before her turn to play. Luckily Meg had been an immovable obstacle to Erika chickening out. When she finally sang for the club owner, the man had risen out of his seat, nodding and clapping. As Lottie, Erika was no longer the lump of coal amidst glittering jewels. She owned the spotlight for once in her life and it felt spectacular. Ever since then, Masquerade had been her place to shine, simply because she now knew she could. “You started this for you,” she reminded herself under her breath. She took the stage and tried not to hurry through the songs. No matter how many times she told herself to slow down and enjoy herself, she couldn‟t muster the same flair, the same rush of adrenaline she usually felt. Not her best set, but she‟d gotten through it. Even once she‟d struck her final chord, she continued to hope the Phantom would appear, that his professed absence was just another of his games—something to keep her guessing—but by eleven thirty, she‟d abandoned all hope. She occupied a booth with Meg, trying to drown her sorrows in one vodka tonic after another. “Look at you,” said Meg, “you‟re fiending for the man.” Erika‟s first impulse was to contradict her friend, but who was she kidding? Resting her cheek on her hand, she nodded. “I am. I totally am. Go ahead and say it—I‟m pathetic.” “You‟re not pathetic, but you are sprung like a schoolgirl. I‟ve never seen you like this.” “He‟s perfect, Meg. So freaking perfect—except for the fact that, you know, at this rate we‟ll never get to go out to dinner and a movie like a normal couple.” “I thought normal was boring.”

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Erika huffed. “It is. But the mystery is killing me. I‟m dying to know who he is— then I don‟t want to know. I‟m all screwed up.” “You really have no idea?” “Not no idea. I think he‟s someone I know.” “Do tell.” Meg leaned in. “I mean think about it—he knows too much about me, but not in that superficial way, like he did research or something. I can‟t explain it. And there are lots of little things—like he started using my real name though I don‟t ever remember telling him what it is. Oh, and he knows my boss‟s office faces my desk.” “Maybe it‟s someone you work with. But then wouldn‟t you recognize his voice?” Meg knocked back a shot of tequila. “He always talks in this raspy, low tone. His pattern of speech sounds familiar but I can‟t place it. And if it‟s someone at work, then why all the role-playing? Why not just talk to me? Do you think he‟s just trying to be romantic?” “That—or he‟s married and can‟t be seen with you.” Erika groaned. “Why would you say that?” “He could be a wanted felon too.” “Meg!” “All valid possibilities.” Meg held up a finger at the waiter to order another round of drinks. “Why don‟t you just ask him?” “Just like that? „Hey, Phantom, do we work together?‟” “Well, yeah.” Meg grabbed Erika‟s cell phone. “What are you doing?” Erika tried to grab it but she was too slow. “I‟m going to ask him—on your behalf, of course.” “No. Give me my phone.” Erika made another unsuccessful attempt to snatch it out of her friend‟s hand. “Give me my phone.” “Too late.” Meg pressed send then handed over the device. 55

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“You‟re a bitch, you know that?” Erika stared at the phone as though she could will the message to arrest, mid-transmission. “What did you write?” “I asked him if he‟s someone you work with.” “I hate you. Really, I don‟t want to know who he is. It‟s just the booze talking.” “Oh hush. You‟ll thank me when you‟re out to dinner with your mystery man— sans mask.” Anxiety gripped Erika. What if the text pissed him off? Or worse—what if he revealed his true identity? Granted, the mystery was driving her nuts, but she didn‟t really want to know…did she? In all honesty, she had no desire to trade the fantasy for a reality that might pale in comparison. One drunken slip of the tongue and Meg was meddling in her business. Her phone screen flashed with new text message, interrupting her panic attack.

I was wondering when you would figure that out :) How was your set, love?

Relief washed over her. He wasn‟t upset nor had he confessed his true identity. Erika tapped out a quick reply.

No fun without you. I‟ll be back soon. See you online tomorrow.