Page 27 of Memories of You

He drew a breath, surprised that her quick understandingdidn’t make him feel vulnerable. But it didn’t. It made him feel loved.

He met her eyes, then shrugged. “I guess that’s a goodthing. My dad would look terrible in that dress.”

Her smile lit her eyes. “Yeah. He really would.”

He cocked his head toward the door. “Are you sure? We don’thave to. There’s no reason on earth you need to feel like you have to one-upFrancesca.”

“It’s not about that,” she said.

His brows rose.

“No, really. It’s not.”

“Then what?”

She lifted a shoulder, looking embarrassed. “I want to knowwhat other women have had with you. Not Francesca particularly. But I want whatthey’ve had. You don’t want a relationship, well fine. But then I think it’sfair that I get to know what it’s like to be with the guy who fucks around.”

Her words weren’t said with a harsh tone, but he still heardit in his head. Because Abby wasn’t part of that group. She was different.Special.

He almost told her so. Almost said they’d blow Masque offaltogether.

Except he didn’t. Because he wanted her there.

Mostly, he realized, he just wanted her.

“All right,” he said, then led her to the door and showedhis key. The door opened, and they were admitted to the party within the party.

He watched her face, taking in the couples talking, kissing,fucking. The main room was active tonight, and he knew the dungeon rooms wouldbe even more so.

“What you expected?”

“I didn’t know what to expect. Are we staying in here? Isthere more?”

“We’re staying,” he said, noting how prominent her nippleswere and the flush on her lips and cheeks. She was turned on. Good.Because he wanted her—and soon—but he didn’t want to stay if she wasuncomfortable.

Abby, however, seemed fine. A little awed, but fine. So hetook her hand and led her to a nearby sofa, just as he had in his fantasy.

“Here,” he said.

“Here? Here, what, exactly?”

“I guess we’ll see,” he said, unfastening his slacks andfreeing his cock before he sat. “But why don’t we start with you riding me?”

Her eyes were wide but excited, and he felt himself goharder knowing that this was really happening.

“Has she done that?”

He tilted his head, wondering about the jealousy. Liking itmore than he should. “She has.”

Abby’s eyes narrowed. “Her skirt pulled up as she workedherself on you, everything nice and hidden by the flair of the material, butthe whole room knowing exactly what you were doing?”

“Exactly.”

“But they couldn’t know for sure. It could be a ploy. She couldhave just been rubbing herself on you.”

“True.” He had no idea where she was going with this.

“That’s not for me,” she said, and he felt the disappointmentcut through him like a knife. “If I’m claiming you—if I’m being claimed—I wanteveryone to know.”