Visions. Part 5

That kiss had been a far cry from lame. It had been perfectly hot and thoroughly stimulating. Almost comparable to New Orleans.

Kisses she'd been unable to find since. A kiss that had just walked out of her dressing room.

Stunned out of her heat-induced ignorance, Paige grabbed her s.h.i.+rt from the nearby chair and raced from the room. She barely had time to shove her arms inside before she barreled into the throng of the club.

Her gaze raked her surroundings. Who the h.e.l.l was that? What the h.e.l.l was that?

She scanned the faces in the crowd, then realized she had no idea who or what she was looking for.

What was the woman wearing? Had she even gotten a chance to notice her clothing with all those hot breaths against her flesh? What color was her hair? How tall was she?

"f.u.c.k!" Paige desperately searched the cl.u.s.ter of people. She now knew what it felt like to be mugged and be unable to give a decent description.

"Was the perpetrator male or female?" an officer would inquire.

"Female. Trust me, she was all woman."

"What color were her eyes?"

"Yes. She had eyes. They were on her lips. I mean, s.h.i.+t! Chocolate. Sinfully chocolate."

"How tall was she?"

"Oh, about yay high. Her mouth came to about here."

"Can you tell me what she was wearing?"

"Um. Not sure if she was wearing any clothes because her tongue was in my mouth."

How pathetic!

No one stood out. The bar was lined with women and men. Her bartender was handing out flyers for the community park cleanup for the following day.

Great. Just f.u.c.king great! What the h.e.l.l just happened? Why was she so d.a.m.n turned on? There was something seriously wrong with her that the only time her core awakened was when someone was hiding behind a mask, hypnotizing her with hot whispers and a velvety tongue.

She needed some serious help. Lord help her, every part of her body was alive. Paige hadn't felt that kind of heat since a masked stranger pulled endless cries of satisfaction from her.

And once again, she was gone.

Paige drove home without any clear idea how she got there. She couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. How perfect it'd been. Wanting another. Wondering who the h.e.l.l the mystery woman hidden behind the mask had been. Her lips promised much, if only she'd stayed around long enough to deliver.

Was the phantom the answer she'd been seeking all these years? That her emotions, her libido, only awoke behind a secret?

She didn't believe so, but at this minute in time, she wasn't so sure anymore.

With a grunt, she entered the house and locked the door behind her. She went directly to her bedroom and kicked off her shoes. She needed to be alone with her thoughts, with her fantasies, with the memories.

Was there a chance the woman would show up again? A possibility that Paige might get to experience New Orleans all over again?

She shouldn't hope, or wish, but she couldn't help herself. She longed for it. Craved it. Was desperate for it.

When she turned to the bed, she found Damien curled in the center watching her.

He knew good and d.a.m.n well her bed was off-limits. Someone was in a brave mood tonight.

She crossed her arms and the staredown began, Mr. Evil glaring with those hard green eyes, refusing to give up his territory. Her territory.

Paige glared back, refusing to lose the staredown battle, again. Seconds ticked by, his tail doing that determined slow wag against the comforter, the one that said, "Try me, b.i.t.c.h."

"I should have left your starving, fur-knotted a.s.s in the Dumpster where I found you."

His tail slapped again with a wicked thump.

"You could have been doggy treat for some ferocious Rottweiler if not for me."

Slap.

"Maybe I'll just get a pit bull. A big a.s.s pit bull."

Slap.

Paige's eyes burned.

"With a ginormous head and teeth like a werewolf." She demonstrated by loudly chomping her teeth together.

Evilness hissed at her. His tail slapped hard again.

Paige's eyes watered.

"I'll name him Rocky, or Monster, or even Killer. Yeah. Killer. Got a nice ring to it." She s.h.i.+fted to her other hip, water pooling in her eyes from her determination not to blink. "Killer's favorite meal will be evil orange cats. And he'll use your whiskers for dental floss. And hide your tiny little bones all around the house to chew on when he's bored."

His tail slapped again, and a low rumbling growl penetrated from somewhere deep inside him, yet he didn't turn away, nor did he blink.

d.a.m.n cats and their ability to win every staring contest.

Paige lost the battle and blinked. She stomped her foot and pointed toward the door. "Get the h.e.l.l off my bed!"

He slapped at her, hissed again, then he jumped down and fled from the room.

Paige undressed, crawled into bed, and pulled the computer onto her lap. She opened the link to her blog, then tapped her fingers.

Normally, she'd already have a blog written out in her head. She'd know exactly what she wanted to get off her chest or what s.e.x toy she wanted to brag about.

But not tonight. Right now, she couldn't think of anything to say other than posting a reward for the mystery woman. She'd pay handsomely for just one night with her. One f.u.c.king hour.

She read through some of the comments on her blog earlier in the night hoping the words would stir within her. The Goth. Pink hair. She'd turned her down, then slunk to her secluded little garden to blog.

The garden. That was it! She'd blogged on the bench. A person had been shuffling their feet and clearing their throat. Paige had heard them but was in a hurry to get her thoughts into cybers.p.a.ce before her routine.

The person wearing white sneakers and faded blue jeans had been her mystery woman. f.u.c.k! Why hadn't she looked up? Why hadn't she acknowledged that someone was trying to get her attention?

She could know what the woman behind the mask looked like.

Dammit!

Paige went back to strumming her fingers on the edge of the laptop, searching for the words that seemed to always come naturally. They weren't there. They were trapped behind the memories of New Orleans, of the woman who had opened a portal in Paige. To the new mystery woman from the club tonight. Until now, she a.s.sumed her search for that elusive s.e.x was an impossible mission. Would this new stranger fill the void left in the wake of the Big Easy?

She could only pray. She'd longed for just one more night of s.e.x that made every muscle in her body clench and contract the way her masked stranger had accomplished.

The monitor stared back at her in complete mockery. Where were the words? Where were the comical sentences she normally had for her followers? Right now, she had nothing. Felt nothing.

Or did she? A little sentimental? A little emotional?

Both, actually. That mystery kiss tonight had stirred those sleeping emotions. She wanted to share those feelings with her followers. She wanted them to know exactly how she felt right now. Excited. Elated. What would her bloggers think if she posted some sniffle-worthy s.h.i.+t? They would surely think her a flake.

She'd never shared her secrets about New Orleans. Never wanted to. Like the old saying, what happens in Vegas, or in her case, New Orleans, stays there. She had left them there for six plus years. She'd sheltered and coveted every minute of her time inside that hotel room.

She wasn't ready to part with them. Not just yet.

But maybe it was time to share a little of Paige, a little of how X was created, with her bloggettes? Just a tiny sample?

h.e.l.l, she had to tell someone or she was going to combust. She was ready to burst from the electrifying heat. Samantha could be a good ear, but she had too many motherly instincts to give a true opinion. Paige didn't need a mother. She'd needed one once. But not now. She didn't need compa.s.sion either. She just needed an ear. Needed someone to hear the words.

She'd kept those secrets from everyone for a good reason. As long as Paige held those exotic moments within herself, she could protect them. Inside her own consciousness, that night remained alive. Outside it, it was unprotected and available for anyone to poke, to destroy, until Paige would question if that night had ever truly existed.

Besides, no one would ever believe that Paige, the hard-a.s.s businesswoman, hard-core exotic dancer, had been shaken to the core by a night of s.e.xual bliss with a complete f.u.c.king stranger.

With her fingers hovering over the keys, she gathered her words and her emotions.

What could she say without telling her followers everything? What could she share without sharing everything?

Damien prowled into her doorway. His ears flattened and his beady eyes narrowed.

"You don't scare me." But he did. Paige didn't like that she would soon be asleep and he would be awake, prowling.

He hissed, then continued his slow pace out of view.

"Weirdo!" Paige yelled.

She suddenly knew what she wanted to say.

She started typing.

Evil orange cat seeks pit bull playmate. Must have six-pack jawbone structure with a wicked appet.i.te for orange p.u.s.s.y. No preference to hair or eye color. Contact X, my adorable, loving, incredibly s.e.xy, and understanding owner for more information.

Yours truly, Damien.

Paige clicked the send b.u.t.ton, then watched the ROFLMAOs, LOLs, Send him to mes roll up the screen.

Was her mystery woman reading? Was she on the other end of cybers.p.a.ce eagerly waiting for Paige's words?

Paige could only guess she was. She would only guess she was. She wanted her to be there. Wanted her to wait. Wanted her to want.

What could Paige say to her? Come back and scald me with those lips again? Please, I'm begging you, come f.u.c.k me?

She wasn't beneath begging. Not if there was a slim chance she could experience New Orleans all over again with yet another stranger.

Her insides clamped as the feel of the mystery woman's hands groped at her, filled her.

With a huff, Paige shoved the laptop away. She wasn't going to find a single word in this brain with so much slick heat between her thighs.

She needed relief.

After choosing a blue vibrator from her nightstand, Paige turned it on, lay back, and closed her eyes.

As always, a suave woman behind a mask, cruising the hotel lobby, sprang to mind. Short hair, trim build, black satin mask s.h.i.+elding all features of her face.

Paige slid the vibrator inside and arched.

Her virtual stranger extended her hand, and Paige's insides clamped around the device.

The woman had been so bold, so in control. Paige had needed someone to be bold. To be brave. She sure as h.e.l.l hadn't been.

As her o.r.g.a.s.m climbed, the images jumped to the feel of the woman's hands against her skin, touching her, filling her.

Paige parted her lips as the woman in her mind snaked her tongue inside her mouth. She'd never been kissed like that before. She'd never been kissed like that since.

Until tonight.

Her o.r.g.a.s.m scrambled to the edge. Her insides squeezed the vibrator.

The mystery woman forced Paige's hands around the bed frame, her whisper hot against Paige's ear, and then pushed inside her.

Paige's o.r.g.a.s.m ripped through her. She arched and pumped and flicked her c.l.i.t until she finally sagged against the bed.

She lay there for several minutes, thinking about New Orleans, about the woman behind the mask at the club.

Could this new stranger bring her to the same peak the other had taken her? Could she open the same portal? Could she take her to the same dimensions?

Paige carried the vibrator to the bathroom sink, then went back to the laptop.

She knew what she wanted to say.

I recommend silicone vibrators over hard plastic. The hard plastic is cold and uncaring. The silicone has a smooth entry...all the way to climax.

I was kissed by a masked stranger tonight. More details tomorrow.

Night all.