The Book of Masks (Vol. 4)

Clothes Off, Insecurities Out

Previously: "Betting on the Beta" 

You take the proffered robe and retreat into Kelsey's private bath—a spacious, oyster-hued thing, bigger than your own bedroom, with separate tub and shower, and a spacious sink and counter space—to peel Deanna's clothes off again. You're trembling as you emerge, and are awkward on your feet as you pad after Kelsey. She leads you downstairs and through winding passageways to a solarium on the lowest floor. French doors open onto a patio, and she leads you across it and down a brick path closed in by flowerbeds and shrubbery to a rusticated, standalone apartment of pink and gray stone. Inside is a cozy sitting room decorated in knotty pine, like the cabin of an old sailing ship, with two small sofas facing each other in front of a gas fireplace.

"Kitchenette's over there," Kelsey says, pointing. "And down the hallway are the spa rooms. I've never had you out here before, have I, Deanna?" she says as she grasps and kneads your shoulders.

"Huh? Oh. No."

"Relax." Kelsey embraces you from behind and buries her nose in your ear. "Be careful what you say out loud," she murmurs into the collar of your robe. "There's intercoms all over the place, and sometimes they get stuck on." She squeezes you more tightly in her embrace. "But, you know, as long as we keep it to 'girl talk' we'll be okay. Right?"

"Uh. Right."

Kelsey gives you one more very tight squeeze, then releases you. "You're shivering, Deanna. Come on, let's get you into a nice, warm steam room." She lightly tugs at your sleeve, and with a crooked smile gestures you to follow.

"Massage room. Chromotherapy room," she says, pointing to the doors she passes. "You ever had a chromotherapy treatment? Oh my God!" she gasps when you shake your head. "Girl, it will make you a new person." She titters. "But we already did that, so we'll go straight to the steam room."

She pulls you to end of the hall, where two large doors flank the dead end. A robe already hangs on some hooks embedded in the wall in front of you; Kelsey slips hers off and hangs it up too, then turns to you with an expectant smile. With a gulp you drop your own robe and hang it up. Kelsey pulls open a door and gestures you in.

The air inside trembles with haze and heat, and you instantly break out into a prickling sweat. Amanda—as white and naked as polished bone—sprawls on one of the three wooden benches that line the wall. Her legs are spread wide, and she has covered her bush with one hand. She lifts one eyelid. "Hey," she croaks at you. "'Bout time you got down here."

"She was getting dressed," Kelsey tells her. "Trying to run out on us, I think." She sinks onto the bench by Amanda; you take one of the free benches. "It's like she thought she had somewhere to be," Kelsey adds with a cat-like smile.

"Huh. Are your mom and dad gone yet?" Amanda asks.

"They're not even back yet. I sent them a text, told them where we'd be. They won't bust in on us."

Then, to your shock, Kelsey lifts Amanda hand—the one she had covering her bush—to her face, sniffs it, then sucks the fingertips. Amanda grunts softly.

Then Kelsey puts her own hand onto Amanda's bush and starts rubbing and stroking it. Amanda slips lower onto the bench.

You feel your eyes bulging, and your mouth hangs open. Kelsey kisses and nuzzles Amanda's hand while cupping and stroking Amanda's breast. And when Amanda squeaks and arches her back, your eye falls to her pussy just in time to see Kelsey withdraw two fingers.

"Oh my God!" You are on your feet before you even realize you're in motion. The door handle is slick with humidity, and you slip when the door falls open. Someone calls your name, but you throw the door shut, grab your robe, and run out into the sitting room.

That's where you fetch up. You can't go back into the house—what if you run into someone?—so you curl up in a little ball on one of the sofas.

That's where Kelsey—also back in a robe—finds you. She gives you a look of open astonishment. "What the hell?" she says.

You can only cringe under her stare.

"Oh, Jesus." She strides over to the kitchenette; a moment later she is back at your side, handing you a bottle of mineral water. You choke on it, and gasp out a quick thanks. "Are you going to be okay?" she asks.

You look around with a wince. Kelsey follows your gaze, then strides over to fiddle with some buttons mounted under a grill. "Okay, you don't have to worry about eavesdroppers," she says. "Now, what the fuck?"

But you're too embarrassed, even humiliated, to answer. How can you admit to Carlos that you were freaked out by the sight of two girls making out? "You kind of surprised me back there is all," you stammer. "What you were doing." You peep up at her from under your brows.

She purses her lips. "Really? Mm. Well, that's too bad."

"How come?"

She gives you a look, then sighs through her nose. "Well, if that kind of thing shocks you, Will—"

"It doesn't shock me," you exclaim. The last thing you want is Carlos and his friends thinking you're some kind of raw and inexperienced prude. "It's only, like, I wasn't expecting it!"

"Well, what were you expecting, Will? I mean, Jesus, if we've got these things, you don't expect us not to—"

She breaks off, sits back, sighs, and closes her eyes. You fight down a wave of nausea. The only thing worse that Kelsey's contempt is Carlos's contempt piled on top of Kelsey's.

She shakes her head. "Christ, Will. You know, an hour ago you, back when you were in Jenny's mask, I'da bet anything Kelsey owns that you'd'a been in there on top of me and Amanda both. Lappin' at us like—"

"What makes you say that?"

She gives you a knowing look. "Please. Jenny? You were totally being her back there in the bedroom. And if you got back in her mask, I'm pretty sure—"

"Jenny's not gay!"

She smirks. "Sure she isn't." Then she frowns. "Really? Are you sure she isn't?"

"Pretty sure."

"Hmph. Well, all I can say," she declares now with a familiar hauteur, "is that it's a damn shame. After we got off wrong up in the bedroom, we were hoping, me and Mike, that—"

"Look, just shut up a minute." You grab her by the wrist. "Don't— Don't judge me by— I don't think this is me!" You feel yourself panting hard as Kelsey cocks an eyebrow. "It's Deanna! I think it is. I think she's the one who's all freaked out. I mean, I've got her in my head and everything, and—"

You hesitate, not wanting to admit that Kelsey and Amanda scare the fuck out of Deanna.

"Bullshit, Will," Kelsey says. "You haven't had time to get the memories or anything. It takes all night to tap into a—"

"Ask me! Go on, ask me anything! Ask me anything about Deanna!"

Kelsey snorts, and she lifts her nose. "When's the last time I let her into my house?"

"Three weeks ago. Or was it four? Middle of September, anyway." Kelsey's eyes narrow. "Deanna hasn't been back since 'cos Kelsey made a big stinking production about banishing her because she posted some cell phone pics of Anthony and Brooke making out. Said she'd never let Deanna into her house again, said she 'violated a confidence' or some shit like that."

Kelsey's eyes widen, but she still looks skeptical. "The tattoo on Anthony's left butt cheek," she says after a moment's thought. "What's it a tattoo of?"

"Oh, Jesus! First of all, he hasn't got a tattoo, at least not a permanent one. Second of all," you continue as Kelsey's lips whiten, "if you're talking about the Winnie the Pooh he showed Kelsey and Deanna and Martin back in the tenth grade, well, it was Winnie the Pooh. And are you sure it was his left butt cheek? I could'a swore it was his right."

The muscles in Kelsey's face tighten, and her voice is pinched and shrewish when she speaks again. "What were Deanna's plans tonight?"

Your own lips twist into a smile. "A date with Steve Patterson."

Her jaw drops. "Oh my God."

"Didn't you know?"

"Of course I knew! But I didn't think—! And you're just going to break it? Her date?"

"I was going to text him," you lie, for you'd not thought any further ahead than Date with Patterson? Yyyuuchhhhh! "I was going to tell him I had a family crisis."

"You are not going to get another shot at him, Dea— Uh, Will." She folds her arms. "You get one shot with Steve, and after that he's—"

"Do you want me to keep that date?"

She frowns and rises from the sofa and paces before giving you a sidelong look.

"So it really does sound like you have her memories and stuff." she says. You nod. "And her personality?"

"Pretty sure I got it. Pretty sure that's how come— I mean, what you and ... and Mike were doing in there, with these bodies you're wearing." Your heart flips and flops in your chest. "Were you doing that when you were Eva and Jessica?"

"We didn't really get a chance to. Now, though—" She smirks.

And that's all she says. But still she stands there, head cocked, giving you a narrow and appraising look.

Oh, God. She's waiting to see if you'll volunteer to go back with her into the sauna, to join in when she and Amanda resume, or whether you're going to back out and leave.

Next: "Steam-Powered Action" 

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"Table of Contents (Vol. 4)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 4)"