Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 79061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
The crowd cheered, and as the DJ pumped up the volume and spun a faster, harder beat, almost everyone in the crowd started...kissing.
Lane’s jaw dropped.
Bodies were grinding against each other, and it wasn’t just couples doing them. There were threesomes, too, and all the couches, chaises, and love seats were occupied in the blink of an eye.
If the first phase was like a party thrown by the President of the United States of the America, this one was definitely organized by the president of a frat.
“The first time I found out what was happening, I thought they were trying to break the Guinness record for most number of couples having public intercourse.” Julieta grimaced. “Took me a month’s worth of exposure to understand that this is just their way of having fun.”
Fun?
This was fun?
“The masks are symbolic,” Julieta continued. “It means speak no evil, and whatever happens in this phase can’t be discussed with anyone anywhere outside this house.”
“D-Does Angelo participate in the...second phase?”
Julieta didn’t answer.
Lane wanted to throw up.
She turned to where Angelo was, and a monitor showed him shaking hands with Dylan and the rest of the band.
The thought that Angelo would return to the scene of the party made her clutch the armrests of her chair.
The band’s equipment van drove off, and a limousine came to pick up Minuit Rouge. Soon, this was gone as well.
Nausea struck, and Lane’s grip tightened on the armrests as she fought to keep her gaze glued on the screen.
Angelo turned towards the mansion.
Please, Angelo—-
He looked up, straight where the security camera was.
Her breath caught.
It was like he was looking directly at Lane.
His lips curved in a challenging smirk. Ready, my Lane, that look on his handsome face said.
Ready for what, she wanted to cry out.
Most of the monitors showed couples still making out and making love, and the sight appalled and fascinated her.
In one screen, she saw Angelo pulling his phone out of his pocket.
Lane automatically reached for her phone, which she had laid next to the control panel.
But it was Julieta’s phone that rang, and the other girl jumped in her seat in shock. “Madre di Dio!” She glared at the monitor, muttering, “Damn you, Angelo Valencia!”
Lane swallowed back a nervous laugh.
Answering the phone, Julieta snapped, “Yes, Signor V?”
Lane’s head turned left and right between the two. Angelo was the only one speaking, but the security camera in his area didn’t have any audio and Julieta listened to him in silence, her face giving nothing away.
When the call ended, Julieta said reluctantly, “I’m afraid you’re on your own from here.”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “Why do you have to leave?”
But Julieta had already gone.
The door clicked automatically shut behind her, leaving Lane blinking in stunned silence.
Her phone suddenly buzzed in her hand, shocking Lane back to the present. “H-hello?”
“How are you feeling, tesoro?” His voice was a seductive purr, traveling down the line to caress her body with its sound.
She swallowed hard and managed to say, “O...kay, I guess?”
“Even after what you’ve seen?”
“Y-yes.”
“What did you think about the first phase?”
She couldn’t answer, didn’t even know what to say.
His voice turned low and husky as he asked, “Do you think you’d be able to host it with me next time?”
She gaped. Host? He didn’t just want her to join him? He also wanted her to host it?
Oh. My. Gosh.
“As hosts, the guests will expect us to dictate the tone of the party.” He paused. “You know what that means, don’t you, my Lane?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late.
Her mind had already conjured the most explicit images.
Angelo seated beside her at the table, countless guests surrounding them—-
Angelo touching her, with her face visible to everyone—-
His hands moving under the table—-
Oh, but what if he himself was under the table so he could do wicked things—-
She whimpered.
Oh. My. Gosh.
Through the phone, she heard Angelo suck his breath hard. “You’re wet now, aren’t you, my Lane?” His voice was harsh with desire, and she whimpered again, realizing that he was right.
She was...wet.
So, so wet.
She had never been this wet, never even thought it was possible to have so much moisture flooding the core heat of her body.
And he hadn’t even touched her!
The realization made her dizzy.
“Tell me how wet you are,” he commanded.
She choked out, “So much.” Lane watched him breathe hard on the screen at her reply, his powerful chest rising under his suit, and unable to help it, she zoomed in on Angelo so she could see—-
Her fingers stilled as his face filled the entire screen – beautiful, hard, the embodiment of a fallen angel.
The fallen angel who was making her oh so wet—-
A moan escaped her as she felt wetness gush out of her, soaking her panties completely.
Angelo’s head jerked up in the screen, and his gaze seemed to capture her through the monitor.