Halloween Masquerade (2 page)

Elias had been wondering all evening where his event planner Sharice was. He had spotted Claire earlier wearing a cute fairy godmother costume. The outfit suited her short frame, and the spectacles on her nose complemented the attire, but every time he looked for Sharice, he would get distracted by a guest seeking his attention.

When he had finally spotted her, he was shocked and then furious at the hideous witch outfit she was wearing. She stood out like an eyesore in a sea of fairytale royalty and mystics. Elias was surprised he hadn’t seen her before now. She had hidden herself very well from his sight. The thought of the lengths she must have gone to not to be caught wearing that get-up tickled his humour a little.

His anger was not because the outfit was hideous, because it really was, but because her rebellious nature had chosen the wrong occasion to rear its head. He had a lot of important business contacts and magazine reporters here. He’d invited them for her, to help generate more trade for her event planning company. Sharice was very talented and had a limited clientele. He wanted to give her a needed boost. Also, she was about to lose her biggest client—him. He hated throwing these events and just used them as an excuse to be closer to her and give her event planning more business.

He had met her at a children’s charity fundraiser that was raising money for programs and opportunities that would provide activities, arts, music, travel, schooling, and scholarships for the underprivileged. Hope for Children liked to use local, small event businesses to organize and run their fundraisers. She had caught his eye and his respect because the charity fundraiser had been low key, keeping the focus on what the charity was all about rather than being a pompous affair.

The event was a success and had many of the clientele, including himself, opening their wallets to donate. When they had been introduced, her genuine enthusiasm and the sparkle in her eye had drawn him in. He’d found her perfume, a light floral scent, intoxicating. Her dark brown eyes held intelligence and humour, and the black sheath dress she wore complemented her feminine curves, from a generous bust, to a tiny waist, down to the flare of her hips. Her gold high heels set off the rest of the outfit. Her dark brown hair fell past her shoulders in tiny twists. The brief conversations they’d had throughout the night had him wanting more, and the next day he tracked her down to organize a small party he was having for his employees.

In the six months they’d been doing business together, he’d gotten to know her better and found her invigorating, witty, stubborn, and exasperating at times as they butted heads over his demands. He loved the fact she didn’t let him intimidate her. He had never felt this way before about anyone, nor had he let himself, keeping at a cool distance from whatever relationship he was in. On his way to the top, he couldn’t let emotion rule him and showed a cool façade, but with her he didn’t want it to be that way. He finally wanted to let his guard down and let Sharice in. He found he wanted to take care of her, to make her laugh, and to see her happy with him.

The hellion was throwing a wrench in his good intentions and plans. It was time for him to tame this firecracker of a woman. As he pushed his way toward her through the swarm of guests in the ballroom, he watched Sharice raise her chin in defiance at his approach. His cock hardened in response to her challenge.

He was almost upon her when he was distracted by one of the reporters wanting to talk to him. She grabbed his arm and began gushing in his ear about the party, wanting to know if she could do an exclusive article with him and his event planner for her next piece.

“Your event planner—she is sheer genius. Who doesn’t need an evil witch crashing a royal party? It was just like a scene in a fairy tale.” She went on and on until he interrupted and excused himself.

“Sorry, you must excuse me, there is a witch I need to tame—I mean catch.” With a quick glance at the reporter’s stunned face, Elias strode away and exited the ballroom.

He had just turned the corner past his staircase when he caught a glimpse of the door to his lounge area closing. With a predatory smile, he reached up to take off his mask and tossed it on a side table in the hallway. Not breaking his stride, he walked toward the door. Reaching it, he twisted the knob and entered the room. It was lit by a low light tonight, just in case guests wanted a place to sit and rest or get away from the festivities.

Glancing around the dimly lit room, he spotted her as her head popped up over one of the chairs in the lounge. He almost burst out laughing at the sight of her. Sharice looked like a green raccoon with the nest of hair on top of her head, her face all green except for her eyes and nose where the pieces of her costume had covered her skin. His humour took a back seat to the growing tightness in his pants at the sight of her.

Elias had on several occasions had to stop himself from grabbing and kissing the infuriating chit, but denied himself because he wasn’t sure how she felt about him and didn’t want to lose her, even if all he could have was just a business relationship. The other day in her office, when he’d caught her staring at him, had surprised him. Sharice couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him, especially his lips. He was happy he had finally caught a glimpse of desire in her eyes for him before she concealed it once again with cool, friendly aloofness.

Sharice stood to face him and then moved to stand close to the back of the chair she had just been sitting in. The upper, exposed part of her green breasts in the bustier drew his attention as he approached her. Glancing back up, she looked calm, giving nothing away as to her emotions. The only sign that she was not as calm as she seemed was her heaving bust.

“Elias, what are you doing away from the party?”

“I followed you from the ballroom; there is something we need to discuss.”

Waving her hand dismissively, she said, “I know, Elias, but can the discussion of my attire wait until after the Halloween party is over? I only need to take a short rest; my feet were killing me in those pointy heels. No wonder witches were miserable in the fairytales; their feet must have been killing them.”

“Your costume is not what I want to discuss with you right now, but we’ll talk about this hideous get-up later.”

Sharice gasped then gazed at him warily when he moved closer; taking a step back, she ended up hitting the back of the chair, trying to put more space between them. “What do you want to talk about, Elias?”

Taking another step toward her, he crowded her, his chest touching hers. He raised his arms to place them around her, bracing his hands on the back of the chair. Her eyes widened in shock at what he was doing and before she could say a word, he said huskily, “I want you.” Leaning close so their lips almost touched, he added, “I have wanted you since the first time I saw you. Everything about you excites my senses. I can’t wait any longer; I need to have a taste of you.”

Her eyes had widened in surprise, and then a flash of desire showed before she hid it from him by lowering them. “Elias, we—”

Not wanting to listen to her excuses, Elias lowered his lips to hers. He groaned at the soft feel of them and needed more—he needed to taste the essence of her and began to nip, nibble, and suck on her lower lip to get her to open up to him.

Sharice’s body trembled in his arms at the onslaught. She closed her eyes and, with a deep sigh, opened the gates of paradise to him. His tongue plunged in—she tasted sweet. His body stiffened when she tentatively reached out and caressed his tongue with hers. The gentle caress set off a maelstrom inside him, and he angled his head to deepen the kiss, their lips and tongues now tangling in a sexual duel.

Needing more, he raised his hand off the couch and began to stroke the skin on her shoulder, loving the silky smoothness beneath his fingers. He moved down to softly stroke the skin on her chest, lightly running his fingers back and forth over the crest of her exposed breast in the bustier.

Sharice pushed her chest up, seeking more of his touch. He obliged by slipping a finger inside the bustier to rub against a hardened nipple. He tore his mouth away from the addictive taste of her mouth and ran it alongside her neck, licking and nipping the succulent flesh as he moved downward to her shoulder. His cock hardened further and jumped in his pants, the sounds of her moans setting him on fire. Raising his head from her shoulder, he faced her once again, watching her reactions as he toyed with her nipple.

His other hand moved to caress her face. Sharice opened her eyes at the touch, lust misting them over. The desire he saw reflected there suddenly began to change. Her eyes widened and then filled with mirth. She pinched her lips together, but it seemed she couldn’t contain herself any longer and burst into laughter.

He pulled his finger out of her bustier, confused as to what had happened and why the mood had suddenly shifted. He was so hard right now, he could barely control himself.

Sharice raised a hand and laid it on his chest. “Sorry,” she stuttered and then broke into laughter again.

“What is so funny, Sharice?” He scowled.

“You should see your faaaaccee.” She twittered at his confused look. Sharice raised her hand and ran a finger down his nose, lifting it away to show him it was covered in her green makeup.

He scowled down at her. “Mock me, will you? Let’s see what I can do to change that.”

Before Sharice’s laughter could escape again, Elias grabbed her arms, spinning her around away from him. Sharice gasped in shock and peered over her shoulder as he began to unhook her bustier.

“Wait, Elias. What do you think you’re doing?” she stuttered and then had to grab the bustier as it dropped open at the back and began to fall off her breasts.

Spinning her back around, his answer to her was to clamp his mouth back down on hers, silencing her and pulling her back into the sensual need her laughter had temporarily interrupted.

Elias cupped her head, and his other hand pulled her waist in closer to him. His knee nudged her legs apart and he moved in, his hand travelling down to cup her left butt cheek, pulling her even tighter into him and rocking his hard cock against the heat emanating from her pussy. Wanting to feel the texture of her hair in his hand, he gently pulled the scratchy witch’s wig from her head and then ran his fingers over her twists until he felt the pins and elastic holding her hair in place. He tenderly pulled the pins loose and then pulled the rubber band from around her hair. Her long twists fell down past her shoulders. He caressed some of the coarse strands before burying his fingers in her hair, cupping her scalp and then lightly massaging it. She began to purr at the feel of his fingers. Hearing her, Elias deepened the kiss, his tongue running along hers, and then he sucked her tongue into his mouth. He ground his pelvis into her, showing her how hard he was for her and his urgency to be inside her.

Parting his lips from hers, he gazed at Sharice until she opened her eyes and stared back at him with a bemused expression on her face.

“I want to see you.” His voice was husky with need. Elias pulled his fingers from her hair and reached down to tug the bustier from her hold on it. Sharice let the bustier slip through her fingers and fall to the floor.

Elias lost his breath at the perfection in front of him. Even though she was tall, he likened her to Venus. Her breasts were full and high, her nipples a dark chocolate against her cinnamon skin, her waist tapered and tiny. The green paint on her didn’t distract him from her beauty. He probably would have found this comical if he wasn’t so enraptured with her.

Sharice’s nipples were rock hard. She began to raise her arms to cover herself from his avid gaze.

“No, don’t,” he said huskily. “Keep your arms where they are.” Reaching out, he flicked and caressed one of the hardened tips. Sharice shivered at his touch.

“You are so beautiful, Sharice. Don’t hide them from me—they show me you want me just as much as I want you.” He glanced up and saw the truth in her eyes.

“Where is the zipper to your skirt? I want to see all of you; I want to see and touch and taste all your desire for me. Then I’m going to fuck you so you feel every inch of my desire for you,” he said gutturally.

“Where is the zipper?” he demanded again. He was about to tear the skirt off her, when she reached to the side and flipped aside a piece of thin black cloth. Pulling down the zipper, she shimmied out of the skirt and let it pool at her feet.