Page 7 of Heart's Masquerade

“Not for a second. Like I told you, I’m back with my family who I love so much. I’m still doing what I believe in even if I’m getting paid less for it. I’m happy. That’s all that matters to me.”

His voice dropped low, rumbling along her nerve endings with him standing so close. “What about love?”

“I’m still looking.”

He raised his mask until half his face was revealed. She held her breath, and then he took it off completely. She was sure she’d creamed her panties. The man was sexy as hell, and the green eyes only complemented the strong jaw, the straight nose, and the all around good looks. He seemed to know it without coming off as arrogant.

Tor let the mask fall to his feet, and his arms encircled her once again. She melted into his embrace, drinking him in. In her dating career, there had been various men, and good and bad experiences. She had never limited herself to just black men or any one or two races for that matter. Yummy men were yummy men, and Tor took the prize one hundred percent.

His breath warmed her lips. When did he lean down so much that their mouths were less than an inch apart? She started to lick her lips but realized she might lick his instead. The thought froze her and gave her delicious ideas she had no business thinking about this early in the game.

Oh the hell with it.

She leaned in closer and touched her mouth to his. Tor took full advantage and dragged her tighter to his chest, closed his lips over hers, and kissed her until her toes curled. She drew back to catch a breath of air. Tor allowed her that much and then swooped in again. He tore a moan from her when he captured her bottom lip between his. When his hand slid down her back to her ass, she didn’t protest. The costume panties were no barrier to his hand, and she felt his heat through the material. If she didn’t put a stop to things right now, she’d be in trouble. Her rational mind argued she needed to cool her jets. A desperate need to be satisfied sexually spurred her on. She pushed into Tor and wrapped her arms around his torso. Her breasts flattened to his chest, and his growing erection pressed into her belly.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he murmured, and traced kisses along her neck. He stopped at the pulse at the base and stuck the tip of his tongue out.

She almost howled in pleasure but controlled the impulse. “Why not?”

“Because I just met you today.

“You’re probably right.” She panted but didn’t pull out of his arms. Neither did Tor let go.

“I would enjoy making love to you.”

“I bet you would,” she teased. Her body cried out for her to let him put his hand between her legs, but even with her liberal attitude regarding people doing whatever they wanted to do, she couldn’t let it go that far. Somehow, Jaz managed to pull herself from his hold, and Tor let her go. “Let’s get out of here before we do something we’ll both regret.”

Tor bent down to retrieve his mask and slid it over his head. She wondered that he didn’t just leave it off. He followed her out of the room. “I’m pretty sure I won’t regret it.”

Jaz bit her lip and hurried to lock the room, then returned to judge the contest.

Chapter Three

Tor found himself dragged into being a judge for the dance and costume contest. Not that he minded with Jaz keeping him close to her side. He did, however, keep his gaze on her more than on the contestants.

“Okay, let’s go dance over there with them,” she said, pointing out a couple, one an angel, the other a demon. Both costumes were common but so imaginative and obviously homemade. The angel’s wings seemed to sprout straight from her back as did the horns seem to grow from the man’s skull. As Tor moved closer, he couldn’t see a band anywhere that would mean the horns were connected to a headpiece. The guy’s irises were like molten lava when he turned their way, and Jaz squealed in delight.

Jaz tapped the couple on the shoulder and shimmied her hips with them. Tor danced up behind her and rested hands on her hips. He glanced over the top of her head and met Rhashon’s gaze on him, arms folded over his chest. Next to him was a woman with similar appearance to Jaz, the same one who had stood at the door with her. He knew immediately this was Jaz’s sister. The woman looked on with excitement in her g

aze.

Tor swirled Jaz and drew her close. Then he allowed the other demon to dance with her while he danced with the angel. Annoyance at losing her came over him, but he hid it. She had her duties, and he needn’t be rude to the angel. When he was about to take her back, he met the gaze of still another man. This one, an African American in an ill-fitting suit—maybe he was going for the mobster look?—glared at Tor and at the other demon. Another protective family member, he guessed. A tinge of jealousy hit him. While he didn’t need anyone to protect him, he thought it might be nice to have so many that cared around him. Instead, he had an absentee godfather and Kenny, who hated his guts.

Okay, enough with the self-pity, Torrian.

“What do you think?” Jaz asked when she danced him away from the couple.

“About?”

She rolled her eyes and leaned in close to him. He breathed her scent in deep. She smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. After kissing her, he wanted to eat her up. While he had planned not to come back for a year, no way would he leave without getting more of her.

“Focus, Tor,” she demanded.

He liked the way she said his name and wondered what it would sound like if she said it fully. “Okay, I’m focused.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. “So do we move them on to the next level?”

“Yes, for the costume. No, for the dancing.”

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