Page 22 of Blissful Masquerade


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She realizes I’m watching her and drops her arms with a blush.

“C’mere.” I uncross my legs and pat on my lap. When she straddles me, planting a happy kiss on my lips, I have to stifle a groan.

“Thank you for comforting me last night,” she whispers, rewarding me with another kiss. Then her head drops. “I’m kinda embarrassed now. But the dark—I swear, the older I get, the more I’m scared of it.”

“We all have our worst fears, Wren.” I run a hand down her back.

“What’s yours?” She tilts her head just like she did last night when I had her in my arms on the piano bench.

I pause. Sure, there’s the usual shit—spiders, bugs, heights, etc. But nothing—and I mean nothing—compares to the physical pain in my chest whenever I realize I could lose one of the people I care about the most.

It feels strangely intimate to tell that to Wren, but I do anyway. I did have my dick buried in her last night, after all.

She listens to me, nodding, and we fall into silence while we watch each other. She missed some of her hair when she put it up, and the strands fall to the sides of her head, framing her face. It makes her look like an angel in the morning sunlight.

After a moment, she swallows. Then she blurts, “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you—do you do this often?”

I grin. “Spend my mornings with beautiful women on my lap? Unfortunately, no.”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I mean. Do you guys...take women home often?”

Ah.

“We’ve all brought our fair share of people home separately.”

She bites her lip, and I wait for her to ask what she really wants to know. “But never...together?”

I chuckle. “No. You’re the first. And from the looks of things, the last.” I watch her closely as her eyes fill with relief and then unease.

Fuck. That probably didn’t come out right.

“Not like that, princess.” I palm her back in long up-and-down strokes. “I don’t think we’ll ever be able to top last night with someone else. And I think the guys agree.”

I mean it. I really, truly do. The three of us have been together in one way or another since high school. And we’ve never shared a woman together. Never wanted to—until Wren.

Her eyes go wide as she blushes again. I kiss the embarrassment right out of her until she’s panting when I pull away. Knowing I put that light in her eyes makes my heart swell with pride. But there’s a hint of nervousness as well.

Which, if I’m being reasonable, is understandable. I basically told her that she’s so fucking special to us that no woman could ever have the same kind of chokehold that she has on us.

Well, that’s sort of what I said.

Regardless, it’s a lot for the poor woman to take in.

My stomach growls, and she giggles. “You haven’t eaten breakfast yet?”

I give her a devious smile. “Oh, I’m about to.”

She perks up. “What are you gonna have?”

“Something I’ve been wanting to taste for a long time but haven’t been able to.”

Her eyebrows knit together as she gives me an odd look. “Uh, okay? What’s that?”

Goddamn. She really is as oblivious as Elliot. “You, princess.”

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