Page 87 of Masked in Deception
I’ve barely been paying attention to the itinerary, my mind fixed on how Margot’s ruffled powder-blue blouse brings out the light in her eyes, until the mention of ceramic magical dwarvesbrings me out of my trance. “Um, why are we making the baby gnomes?”
“For his garden of course,” Sloane replies matter-of-factly.
“Right…right…makes sense.” My initial reaction is to make fun of this preposterous idea, but from the corner of my eye, Ledger is sizing me up like prey, and I know that any jokes will be dealt with in blood.
Sloane laughs, thankfully, not oblivious to the ridiculousness of the idea. “Look, I just wanted to eat popcorn and play Monopoly.”
“No!” I yell, along with the other four Sinclairs.
“We aren’t allowed to play Monopoly,” Margot admits. “Mom banned that after Ledger and Jack got into a knock-down, drag-out fight because Ledger wouldn’t trade Boardwalk for all three of the red properties.”
“If I remember correctly, I put ole Jackie here in the hospital for a night.” The man himself grabs me in a chokehold and ruffles my hair like it was an adorable bonding moment between us as adolescents and not like he broke my nose, fractured my ribs, and caused enough bruising to have the doctors concerned with the risk of internal bleeding.
“I absolutely remember,” Margot responds, giving her brother one of her famous stare downs. For once, I’m not jealous not to be the object of her attention. “Because I was only seven at the time and thought he was going there todie,soIstayed the night with him and had to sleep in that horrible hospital chair.”
“No, Princess, your mom was the one in the chair.Youwere starfished belly down, on top of me in the little bed and kept messing up my IVs all night.”
Sloane’s contagious laughter has us all coming undone at the memory. “Ohmygod stopit, you guys. I pee when I laugh now.”
Blanche is the first one to pull herself together enough to rein us all in. “Alright, alright, let’s get this show on the road. Ledgerand Henry will be on a team, and then Margot with Jack. Sloane and I will judge.”
After a full day of activities, including Margot and I almost starting a fire in the kitchen trying to make pierogi from scratch, Ledger almost leaving our baby gnomes in the kiln long enough to burn them to a crisp, and Henry getting so exhausted from planning the Disney trip he offered to rent the whole park out for the day, we’re all exhausted.
“With the renovations going on, I’m afraid I only have three guest rooms ready, so you’ll have to draw straws,” Blanche says, after we all decide it’s time to call it quits for the night.
“I’ll take the couch,” I concede immediately, knowing there’s no way either of my brothers are giving up a bed, and there’s no way inhellI would take one from Margot.
“No way, Ledger and I will just go home,” Sloane slurs, finally coming to after passing out on her husband at the beginning of this last movie.
I wouldn’t have accepted her offer, with or without Ledger’s current death stare. “No, I’ll be fine. This is probably more comfy than any of those beds anyway,” I say, bouncing up and down on one of the plush cushions for emphasis. I’m not wrong either, I’ve taken plenty of naps on this couch, and it really is comfortable.
I’ve barely had time to get the blankets in place after saying good night to everyone, when I hear an all-too-familiar pitter-patter coming my way. The outside lights flickering from behind the curtains are more than enough to see my girl looking as gorgeous as ever in a pale pink nightgown. I’ve only seen her in black lingerie or completely nude recently, but something about the innocence of the soft hue is enthralling, so I’m not sure which I prefer more.Especially knowing exactly how much she’s been corrupted.Her hair is down now, framing hermakeup-free face, which is somehow even more beautiful than when it’s artfully contoured.
“Jackie, why don’t you come get in bed with me? We used to sleep together all the time.” she says, sitting at my side on the edge of the couch. Her hand effortlessly finds my thigh, and fantasies of a domestic life with her threaten to pull me away from the moment.
I push myself up, my blankets falling to my waist, exposing my bare chest before tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Princess, if I got in bed with you right now, there wouldn’t be any sleeping.”
Letting my hand fall to caress her neck, I revel in the feeling of her pulse quickening beneath it, until her hand finds mine and guides it down to her chest. When she reaches her desired destination, she tightens her grip on me, a silent request for me to do the same to the luscious breast I’m embracing, while her other hand trails up my thigh toward my hardening cock. “And would that be such a bad thing?”
This time, I’m the one who can’t control their racing heart. In a blink, I’ve rolled her over onto her back with her face caged between my hands and my chest grazing hers with every rise and fall of my breath. “No, it wouldn’t be a bad thing at all, baby girl. It would be a very. Very. Good. Thing,” I say, emphasizing each word with a thrust of my hips, letting her know just how much I would, indeed, love to take her to bed. “But your brothers would kill me for the screams I would pull from that pretty little mouth of yours. So maybe we don’t do the shared bed thing here tonight.”
“Oh,” she breathes.
I slowly pull myself off her after kissing the top of her head, then pull her to sit up as well. “Yeah,oh. Go to bed, Princess—” I’m interrupted by the ruffling commotion of her making a pallet beside me. “Jesus, Margot, no! You aren’t sleeping on the floor.”
“Well, I’m not leaving you alone!” my stubborn girl says, crossing her arms in an act of defiance I know all too well.
“Get on the damn couch, Margot!” I sigh, giving up my comfortable makeshift bed and getting onto the pile of blankets she’s laid out on the floor.
“Jackie?” she asks as we both settle into our new “beds.”
Rolling over on my side, I’m greeted by my own goddess, glowing in the moonlight, and looking down on me with just as much reverence as I feel for her. “Yes, Princess?”
“When we get back to New York, can we maybe find a bed to share where my brothers won't be an issue?” she asks, reaching a hand down toward my own for me to hold.
I happily accept her offering and kiss the top of her delicate knuckles before threading my fingers through hers and holding on for dear life. “Whatever you want, Princess.”
Her response is a simple smile, but it’s more than enough for me. She’s out like a light almost instantly, but I want to savor every minute of her touch. Like I’ve said before, any scrap I can get. The thing is, as I lie here holding her hand in mine, I realize this is way more than just a scrap. I’d rather only ever be able to hold her hand as Jack Carter than be able to fuck her senseless whenever I want as her masked man. And I think,I hope, she’s starting to feel the same.
