Visions. Part 20

She wasn't ready to part with Paige. A monster was churning across the Caribbean Sea, and within days, she could command Mayson's presence. This game was going to come to a harsh close.

It drove her crazy to think about leaving this town, leaving Paige, especially when the game hadn't come to a conclusion. When Paige still hadn't unveiled her.

Or did she want to? Mayson had never considered that Paige might not have any inclination to discover the face behind the mask. The person behind the game.

What if Mayson's attempts were in vain? What if Paige couldn't care less about Vinden, or even the masked stranger from New Orleans?

What if she didn't want Mayson, or a possible life with her? What if she only wanted s.e.x?

The realization stabbed hard. She could tell her, right now. She could give Paige the option of running, before Mayson was ripped away.

Not yet. One more time.

Mayson pushed between her thighs and slowly ground against her. She couldn't believe how badly she wanted Paige, how desperate she was to hold on to her.

Paige stared up at her.

Was that desire staring back at her in the dimly lit room? l.u.s.t? Love?

Mayson kissed her until Paige reacted with a soft sigh. G.o.d, those sounds were going to haunt her. She kissed her harder, drove faster, until Paige locked her between those thighs and met her thrust for thrust.

Was this what true love felt like? This sick gathering in the pit of her stomach? She'd never felt it before. Didn't know its true meaning. Mayson only knew she couldn't let Paige go. Not yet.

She pushed her hand between their bodies, found Paige's slick opening, and slowly pushed inside her.

When Paige hissed and arched, Mayson screwed her eyes shut. Without Paige, she might never hear those genuine sounds of pleasure again. Rather, she'd never react to those sounds again. They were torturous. She craved them. Craved making them.

She drove faster, consumed in her want, devoured in those whimpers and moans.

Paige arched into her, dragging her nails along Mayson's back and shoulders. "Dear G.o.d. Mayson!"

The sound of her plea was like a dagger through her soul.

G.o.ddammit. She removed herself from the alcove and rolled Paige onto her stomach. She didn't want to see those eyes, that expression, for fear of reading all the wrong things in them.

Mayson lifted her hips slightly off the bed and reentered her.

Paige whipped her head back and clawed at the sheets.

Mayson f.u.c.ked her, driving easily into her slick walls, devouring the sounds of her cries. She reached between her legs and flicked and circled her c.l.i.t.

With her back arched, Paige drove herself backward, f.u.c.king herself over Mayson's fingers, desperate for the o.r.g.a.s.ms that shouldn't be so readily available. She was completely spent, completely drained, yet Mayson had a natural way of making her needs resurface.

How was she doing that? How did she possess that power?

A thumb probed at her a.s.s and Paige froze.

Mayson kissed spots along her back, then licked a wet trail down her spine. "I need to be inside you, Paige."

It wasn't a question. It was a f.u.c.king plea.

"Yes. Please, G.o.d, ye-"

Mayson pushed inside her. Paige screamed out and whipped her body backward into Mayson. She reached behind her until she found refuge around a tight thigh. Her nails dug and Mayson bit down on her shoulder.

Tingles electrified her legs and arms and whipped along her insides. Fire shot down every nerve and then Paige came in a blinding rage of spasms.

She clawed, screamed, bucked over those fingers, until she couldn't hold herself upright a second longer.

With a final cry, Paige fell forward. Mayson fell beside her and pulled Paige into those strong arms, spooning and clinging to her, until the blackness took her down again.

When she awoke, the first thing she felt was the weight of Mayson's legs over hers and her arm like dead weight around Paige's waist.

Panic bit hard this time. This wasn't normal. She didn't do sleepovers. Didn't fall asleep at all, ever. Now she'd done it twice. She needed to get out from beneath the binds. Needed to get her d.a.m.n clothes and get the f.u.c.k out of there.

She had no business being there, no business going in the first place. d.a.m.n her curiosity and s.e.xual needs.

Paige shimmied until she escaped the coc.o.o.n. She turned back to make sure Mayson hadn't awoken. No d.a.m.n way she could do that again. Her body couldn't take any more. Though her mind automatically went there and her insides clenched.

Mayson was sound asleep, her lips slightly parted. She was so s.e.xy. Almost perfect. Paige could honestly say she'd reached the ultimate in s.e.xual partners. Sucked that Mayson was a billionaire. Sucked that she could buy anything, or anyone, she wanted. Sucked that their lives could never intertwine.

Sucked even more that Paige wasn't looking for the same as Mayson. Mayson wanted a forever. Paige only wanted this, the ultimate rush of s.e.x.

A happy-ever-after could never exist for them.

The stripper and the billionaire. It was a t.i.tle for Harlequin. Not the ending to Paige's life story.

Paige stood beside the bed and stared down over her. She took it back. Mayson was perfect. She had everything a girl could ever want.

But she wasn't perfect for Paige.

Paige tracked through the bedroom and adjacent living room until she'd gathered all her clothing. She slowly donned each piece, a part of her wanting Mayson to wake up and stop her, to pull her back into that bed and into her mouth. The other part screamed that she'd already stayed several hours too long, that she was a moron for letting her s.e.xual needs predict her actions.

Paige picked up her sandals and took one last glance at Mayson deep in slumber, her breathing steady. Their evening had been incredible. The s.e.x had been all she'd ever wanted. So why was she dressing? Why was she on the verge of panic? And why was she still standing there?

With one final glance and a hint of indecision, Paige bit her bottom lip and left.

Mayson was jolted awake by the sound of loud banging on the front door. She scanned the bed for Paige, but the spot where she'd been lying was cold.

She grabbed her shorts from the side of the bed and finally found her shirt on the opposite side of the room. The bathroom light was out, and the rest of the house seemed to be bathed in darkness as well.

Where the h.e.l.l was Paige? Had she left? Without as much as a good-bye?

Heavy banging on the door drove her into action once again. She pulled her shirt into place and darted for the front door.

Eric burst inside as soon as Mayson turned the k.n.o.b. "Where the h.e.l.l have you been? I've been calling you for hours."

Mayson scanned the room for her phone, long lost in the throes of pa.s.sion. Memories stabbed with a fierce blow, and she had to look away from Eric to keep him from seeing the pain of need in her eyes.

"Get your a.s.s dressed! Elena was upgraded to a Four earlier than predicted. She's headed straight for Kingston. Due to make landfall in less than twenty-four hours."

No. No. No! Not now.

Mayson shook her head. All she'd needed was one more day. A few more riddles, and Paige could have figured it out. Figured out the woman she'd f.u.c.ked over and over last night was her living, breathing fantasy.

Her heart squeezed as she stared at Eric in disbelief.

That was it. That ache. It was love. She was in love with Paige.

Now it was over.

"Chop chop!" Eric commanded. "The cargo ship has been loaded with supplies already. It left port in the Dominican Republic an hour ago. The pilot is already with the plane in Houston. We have to get our a.s.s in gear!"

His words galvanized Mayson into motion. This was who she was. Someone's savior. Someone's hero.

Eric followed as she dragged duffel bags and suitcases from the closet and tossed everything on the floor. "We'll await word of clearance in Miami there, then fly to Santo Domingo. A helicopter will take us out to the barge."

Mayson slung clothes over her shoulder from drawers and cabinets while Eric stuffed everything into her luggage as she raced from one side of the room to the other, driven by impulse alone.

"As long as we're in the sky within the hour, we should be on target."

Mayson barely heard him, only the important factors, that she was going to be whisked away to another country, and only G.o.d knew when she'd be able to contact Paige again.

Then again, Mayson didn't know if she even wanted to be contacted again. Maybe tonight was all she wanted. Maybe s.e.x, all hours of it, was all she was after. Mayson had seduced her, after all. Paige hadn't chased her. If anything, she'd run in the opposite direction. Mayson had used every angle to lure her in. Used her quest for s.e.x to lure her in.

Eric lugged her suitcases toward the front door while Mayson's heart ached. She missed Paige already. Missed the game. Missed the feel and smell and sound of her.

Did Paige? Would she?

She spotted the phone designated for Paige and grabbed it up. There were no messages. No texts. Nothing.

She had one last riddle. One last plea for Paige to unveil her.

I wanted you where hopes go up and pennies come down. Unveil me...I beg you.

Eric yelled from the living room and Mayson shoved the phone in her pocket.

An hour later in her private jet, she was staring down over the Gulf Coast headed for Miami, missing Paige so badly it hurt, wishing she'd found the b.a.l.l.s to tell Paige that the answers she was seeking had been there all along.

Chapter Fifteen.

Paige gripped the pole while the music screamed around her. She circled the cold metal and whipped her head around, dropped to the floor, and then arched with her a.s.s against the satin smooth steel while she rose.

She'd never been so edgy in her life. Not even the familiar routines of performance, dance rehearsal, or the music could drag her out of her funk.

Mayson hadn't tried to contact her. Silence reigned everywhere. Other than another weird riddle from Vinden the morning after she left Mayson's-I wanted you where hopes go up and pennies come down. Unveil me...I beg you-she hadn't heard a word from her either.

Paige was frustrated with these rhymes and riddles. Frustrated with herself.

Her thoughts were consumed with Vinden. The feel of her at the theater. Again at the lingerie shop, with Vinden on her knees between her thighs.

Yet no matter how much she let those thoughts consume her, recalling the perfection, all the things that Paige craved, it was Mayson who wedged herself in Paige's mind, the memories of their incredible s.e.x squeezing Vinden to the edge.

Paige huffed and pushed off the pole. She stomped across the stage and yanked up a towel to wipe the sweat from her face.

She didn't want to dance today. Tonight. Or even tomorrow.

What she really wanted to do was walk barefoot on the sand. Wanted to go to the park to play Frisbee with the kids. And ever since that riddle she had no desire to solve, she had an uncontrollable urge to throw a d.a.m.n penny in that stupid fountain.

She wanted to be anywhere but here.

Instead, she was here, rehearsing all alone, while she imaged Mayson watching her from the audience, eating her alive in that calm, carnal stare.

Why had she run from Mayson? It was a question she'd been unable to answer from the minute she pulled away from her house, only stalling long enough for the gate to open before she floored it. Mayson hadn't done anything wrong. In fact, she'd done everything perfectly right. So perfect that Paige felt ashamed for having treated her so poorly, for lashing out over a grudge. For allowing a grade school act to keep her locked inside hatred.

Had she sheltered her rage out of jealousy? Because she always longed for what Mayson had? What she'd never had? Had she been that shallow her entire life?

f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k! Why couldn't she get that woman out of her head? Out of her mind? Out of her jumbled thoughts?

Heat fluttered between her thighs as a memory stabbed. Of Mayson pushing inside her, everywhere, deep, over and over. Why did a woman she'd hated for so long have to be the one to meet all of her s.e.xual needs and fantasies?

Why her? Why now?

Dammit. Why did it have to be Mayson Montgomery?

Worse, Mayson hadn't tried to contact her. That infuriated Paige even more. Had she taken Paige's departure as a f.u.c.k-off? Had her NASCAR getaway said all there was to say? Had Mayson formed her own conclusion that Paige wanted nothing to do with her? Did Paige want something more to do with her? Did she?

f.u.c.k. Maybe she should have taken a more mature approach, like leaving a note? Or waking her up and saying good-bye? No, she couldn't have. Hadn't she tried that only to find herself pinned down beneath Mayson again?

Or had Mayson gotten what she wanted and moved on to her next s.e.xual quest? Had her silence been Paige's f.u.c.k-off?

Paige growled and slung the towel back on the floor. She stalked toward the pole, grabbed it with both hands, then twirled and bowed and arched until she reached the point of breathless exhaustion. She slumped to the floor, sweat rolling along her neck and trickling down her body.

Still, Mayson's image was there. Her virtual reality like a torture chamber in Paige's mind.

That's it! Paige hit the remote to silence the music, rose, and grabbed the towel, then stormed toward her office. She fell into the chair in front of the computer with a huff only to stare blankly at her desktop.

Maybe she should call Mayson to give her an explanation. But what explanation would that be? That she didn't want an ever after? That she was more than content to have a happily ever f.u.c.k? That if she did reconsider, it wouldn't be with a billionaire. Wouldn't be with Mayson.