Читать книгу Masked Innocence - Alessandra Torre, Alessandra Torre - Страница 13

Eight

The limo came to a stop at a large metal gate, monitored by a valet with a clipboard. After he’d conferred with our driver, the gates opened and we moved forward. Brad pulled on his hood, and I shivered at the transformation the simple black fabric created. All I could see was his eyes, and I hated not seeing his mouth. He expressed so much with it, from the tightening of his jaw to the curve of his grin, and I felt lost without that road map. I reached up the neck of the hood and felt his lips, curved, and I smiled back at him. He pushed my hand down and I looked out the window, fascinated by the upcoming events.

The driveway was curved cobblestone and lined with lit palm trees. Pieces of the house were visible, but it wasn’t until the limo came to a stop that we saw the full home. It was a huge, sprawling, Mediterranean-style estate, with an ivy-walled courtyard and a modern fountain in front. Two more men with clipboards straddled the entrance to the courtyard, though I think they were there more for effect than purpose. Brad gave them a name, “Ano,” and we were waved through.

“Ano?” I whispered, gripping his huge biceps tightly and trying not to trip on my heels.

“It’s an alias. One I use for swinging. You should think of a name to use tonight.”

I wrinkled my forehead, trying to think of a name that sounded sexy, but still realistic. There are so many pronounced differences between men and women. If I had attended this party with a woman, she would have given me ample time to prepare for something as important as my false identity. I should have asked more questions. A dozen names flitted through my mind, but they all sounded wrong. I finally discarded the task, figuring I’d have time to pick an alias later.

The courtyard was gently lit by the flames of two white stone fireplaces, one on either side. We walked through the dramatic area, going up a few steps and entering the home through two large ornate doors. The party was apparent as soon as we stepped inside.

Brad had mentioned fifteen or twenty couples, but there had to be at least fifty people in this room alone. It was a wide room, with huge columns and towering ceilings, colorful silks and lace tented above us, creating a ceiling of passion. The room had two dark leather sectionals, facing each other, with big gold and cream pillows scattered on them. A food bar was on the left side of the room, a wet bar on the right. Beautiful people were everywhere, wearing everything. Masks ranged from small black cat eyes to huge feathered ensembles. Women wore everything from sheer dresses and lingerie to Oscar-worthy evening gowns. The common denominators seemed to be rich and beautiful. Huge diamonds glittered from ears and fingers, and the normal factors of life—wrinkles, cellulite, imperfect features—seemed to have left these women alone. I wasn’t sure if it was the low lights or the masks, but everyone looked beautiful here. At close examination, there were wide hips, small breasts, and big noses, but those imperfections turned to perfect individuality beneath the overriding wave of sexuality and confidence displayed.

We seemed to have arrived at the precipice between friendly mingling and hot sex. As I watched, a woman pulled two men to a sectional and knelt between them. I quickly adverted my eyes and heard Brad chuckle next to me. “You don’t have to look away. They want to be watched. Otherwise they wouldn’t be here.” He grabbed my ass, sliding his hand up my dress and squeezing my bare skin. “You look stunning.”

I smiled at him, glad for the reassurance. He reached for my hand, and we entered the crowd. Brushing through the crush of bodies, we approached the bar, manned by a shirtless Adonis wearing only a bow tie and dress pants. He smiled appreciatively at me and nodded to Brad.

Brad asked for two glasses of champagne and we walked out the French doors to the pool, a massive blue-lit expanse of carnal opportunities. There was a couple already inside, naked bodies latched together in the lit water. I blushed and we walked to a lounge set and sat, looking back at the house and the crowd inside. More people were starting to spill outside, and soon we would have company. But for now it was quiet, except for the moans of the couple in the pool.

Brad pulled off his cloth hood, his hair mussed and sticking up, looking adorably hot. He took a swig of champagne and ran his hand down my bare back.

“You okay with this?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah.” I flashed him a smile. The party felt refined, classy with a strong undercurrent of sex. “What’s the deal with the party, the hosts?”

“The hosts.” He smiled. “Dan and Beverly. I represented Beverly a few years ago in a divorce. We fucked a few times during the process. When she married Dan she reached back out to me. Figured this would be up my alley. They host a few parties a year and are very selective about their invitation list. That’s what I like.”

“Do they personally know all of the guests?”

“I’m not sure. They probably met most of them through AFF.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a social networking site. Think Facebook for Swingers.”

“Are you on it?”

“Not right now. I go through phases, depending on what’s going on in my life, who I’m dating.”

“Everyone here is so attractive. I kind of expected...”

He laughed at the uncomfortable expression on my face. “There is an application process involved to be invited to events such as this. Photos are one requirement.”

I tilted my head, raising my eyebrows questioningly.

He smiled, running his hand through his mussed hair. “I didn’t send any photos of you, not that I have any. They know my taste, and trust that I wouldn’t bring an unacceptable guest.”

Unacceptable? I shifted uncomfortably, playing with the hem of my dress. “It seems like a lot of money in there.”

“Dan and Beverly are kind of snobs in that respect. Money also weeds out a lot of the crazies.”

“Good. I don’t let crazies fuck me.”

He laughed and pulled me to him, kissing me deeply. “Let’s go back in. If you see something you want to do, just let me know. This will be a good test for us.”

“In what way?”

He stood, towering over me, and flashed a grin, pulling his hood back on. “Because I plan on enjoying the party also.”