Master of the Opera, Act 3: Phantom Serenade by Jeffe Kennedy Read Free Book Online Page B

stunning sensuality. For the first time in her life, she felt like a woman, not a girl.
    For the first time in her life, she understood what that meant.

6
    S he drove home feeling like her little car had become an airplane. Though the night was cool, she put the top down and let the wind chill her ears and toss her short hair around her eyes with stinging bites. They reminded her of the way the whip had fallen on her vulnerable, upturned bottom, and how she’d been restrained, unable to defend herself. Totally at the Master’s mercy and every desire.
    The one orgasm hadn’t been nearly enough. She wanted more. Much more. In this erotic haze, even the seam of her jeans pressing on her clit could be nearly enough to make her come again. She wriggled, pushing herself closer.
    Her cell rang—a jangling new ringtone that nearly sent her swerving off the road.
    She grabbed the phone, if only to make it stop, and saw Roman’s name on the screen. He must have programmed the ring himself when he had her phone at his house. One of those techno beats that all sounded the same.
    She didn’t want to answer, but she did.
    “Hey there, sweet girl. Are you back yet?”
    What had she said she was doing? That was the problem with lies—it took work to remember and consolidate your stories. Oh yes, Albuquerque and new jeans. The glass-and-polished-tile mall with its bright lights and stores full of merchandise seemed so far from where she’d truly been that it made her giggle.
    “What’s funny?”
    “Oh, nothing—the DJ on the radio. And yep, I’m pulling into my hotel now.”
    “I thought you must be driving back and that’s why you didn’t answer my texts. Why don’t you come over? Model your new jeans for me?”
    “Oh, Roman.” She faked a yawn. “I’m so tired. I didn’t find any jeans I liked, either. I think I’ll crash.” That was a laugh. She wouldn’t sleep for hours, she was so wired.
    “I get it.” He sounded disappointed. “Tomorrow night, though, I’ll have your undivided attention. I thought we’d eat in the bar at Rio Chama—hang out and see who comes by. I’d like you to meet some of my friends, so look your best.”
    Shit . She sat in the dark car in front of her casita and thumped the heel of her hand against the steering wheel. Time for honesty. Past time. Only immature girls played games.
    “Look, Roman, I think we need to talk.”
    Strained silence.
    “I mean, you are such a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you interested in her, and we’ve been friends forever, but I’m just not sure—”
    “Say no more, sweet girl. I absolutely understand.”
    “You do?”
    “Of course.” His warm voice held a teasing smile. “We’ve been moving fast and you’re nervous about seeing my family as my girlfriend. But you don’t have to worry—they won’t mind that you’re not Hispanic or Catholic. You’re like a second daughter to them. Don’t give it another thought. We’ll talk about it over dinner tomorrow.”
    “The thing is, I don’t think I can make it tomorrow night.”
    “But you promised.”
    “I know, but—”
    “What—did you get a better offer?”
    Yes, actually. Which made her worse than dishonest.
    “Are you seeing someone else?” he continued, voice thick with suppressed anger. “Is that what tonight was about? After all I’ve done for you, you run off to dally with some other guy?”
    “No! I mean . . .” Yes . She was a terrible person. She blinked back tears. “I’m handling this badly.”
    “Yes, you are. I expected better of you, Christy. I expect better of you in the future, too. Now, I think you at least owe me the courtesy of meeting me in person, on the day and time we agreed upon, and we’ll discuss our differences.”
    She rubbed the back of her hand against her eyes. He was right. She owed it to him to break up in person. As for the Master, she’d have to slip him a note. Maybe he would understand and not punish her. Once she had things