chapter 21

" M y dear Erique." She speaks my name, and it is a peace I have never known.

A remembrance of my day of birth mattered to me not. My age was unknown, even to me. Though she estimated early forties by recollections of my stories. Sometimes this life seemed to span centuries when solitude was your only companion.

Flabbergasted, I stared at the bakery item. Never in my years have I been given a gift. At least not one without consequence. Then she appears and showers me with them.

"Ok, you're probably thinking ‘what is she talking about, right?'" she said.

Nervous or excited? This particular moment was hard to tell which her quick speech was incited by. Both perhaps. Stumbling over words and spouting nonsense, I adored her for it.

"Curiosity holds me," I said.

Divots in her cheeks appeared as she smiled. Enthusiasm sparkled in her eyes. "Well, I figured, since you didn't know your birthday, that I would give you one. And what better way to celebrate a birthday than with a triumph of Christine on opening night, in the opera house that you love so much..."

Her words circled my ears yet did not truly enter. For shame, I stare at her loveliness. So full of life. Mouth moving with sweet words for me. An apology so welcomed and accepted.

"…But I'm also a terrible friend. I don't think I ever asked your favorite cake, so I had them make my favorite, with a recipe I know vaguely, so that I can share with you something new. They don't have over here yet. It's chocolate cake, filled and topped with a coconut-pecan frosting."

Staggered in thought, I was at a loss for words. She desired to share something dear with me. Only because it comes from her, I would treat it as if given by Gods.

"But there is one stipulation," she added.

"What is that, dear?"

She closed her eyes, grazing her bottom lip with her teeth. Pulses beat rapidly through these veins at sight of it. I hated when she did that.

"In order for you to have this oh so devilishly divine German' Chocolate cake, you have to come share it with me," she finished.

Speaking with her on a daily basis was enough. For now. Even the ache of her words the other night had vanished. Here, with her was where I wanted to be on this triumphant evening. I could only ruin it.

On the other hand, what if time had come? Someday had been promised, fate would have it be now?

"And don't worry. I have a compromise." Her voice stopped my erratic mind and refocused my attention on her cherubic face.

She walked away from the mirror, pulling something from her pocket. A long strip of fabric dangled from her hand. "I'll stay blind folded and you can come in," she said, tying it around her head and over her eyes.

I deserved no care like this. To say the least, her gesture overwhelmed.

I had thought of nothing the past few days except Christine's debut.

That was a lie.

Even as I lay unconscious encircled by empty wine bottles, and an empty bottle of twenty-five-year-old brandy meant to be shared with an old friend, she haunted my every dream and lucid thought. Not even my opera would play from shaking fingers.

‘The woman you dote on so much breaks your heart, yet you entertain her. You gave up the one thing that could give us everything, for continued torture,' the Ghost said .

His words bit like a mouse. There, but only a nuisance.

More than anything I wanted this offer to be real. But in part, I am reserved. What if she ordered me away again? It was unbearable the first time.

"And if this is a trick to get me out of the shadows just for you to whip the blindfold off and see the monster?" I asked.

"I can see how you might think that Le Fantome," she said, waving a hand in the air then resting it on her lips. Always so playful, and I craved to play with her.

"I would never do anything to hurt you. Not like that. Guess you just have to trust me enough. And if I take this off, then you can kill me or whatever, I don't know. It's up to you."

‘She will hurt you like the others. She has hurt you worse. You would risk that again, boy?'

To risk sweetens the reward .

"Better hurry, birthday boy, I'm hungry and the only thing in here is this really delicious cake, which is now getting covered in melted wax..." she teased.

Every disgusting part of me ached for affection. But none screamed louder than the suppression in my trousers. Which I ignored, per usual.

This was about trust, something also never given to me. Such fascinating feelings with it. Very limiting yet refreshing.

I hung my cloak from a hook next to the mirror. Hands ran over my hair to ensure it was in place. Fingers wrapped underneath the hem of my jacket, and I tugged, straightening any dishevelment.

My hands found the mechanism that held the panel in place and I released it.

Her head turned slightly in the direction the door sounded as it slid open. "I knew that'd get you out here," she smirked.

"You had me at chocolate, madam. Though pecan was a close second."

Shadows attempted to keep hold as I stepped hesitantly out into the soft light of the forgotten room.

The flickering of the candle on the vanity held no interest for me. How could it when its flame paled in comparison to the beacon in red.

The highlights of her face as she watched from behind the darkness of the blindfold, the curve in her waist, and her fidgety hands screamed to be touched by my own equally unsteady fingers.

"Ok, so, now you make a wish and blow out the candle," she said.

"I thought you couldn't see me, my dear."

"You know how it is when one sense is shut off, the others explode in order to make up for the loss."

If I were a worse man, I would take her now just for her intellect.

"Must I?" I asked.

"I don't make the rules. I just follow them." She shrugged and leaned against the chaise casually.

"I thought you decided you were the director of this story?"

"Just make the wish already!" she urged.

"What if this is my wish?"

Her false brown curls coiled over her shoulders as she rolled her head back. "Your wish is to ruin the best cake in existence with wax because of your innate need to torture me?"

"Yes."

"That is a sad wish, Erique, even for you. You could do that any day. Wish for something else."

"Wishes are for people without hope. Do you think the wealthy, the fortunate, make wishes?"

Her lips rolled inward as she stood up straight, hands fidgeting in front of her. "Well…"

"I wish…"

Her hands lurched forward suddenly. "You're not supposed to say it out loud! Or it won't come true!"

"What sense is that?"

"Yeah, I know. I mean, yeah... To be honest, I don't think any wish I've ever made came true or at least the ones I kept to myself anyway... ok do what you want, just blow out the candle before it ruins the cake."

And in a quick moment, the flickering glow from the small candle went out and a poof of smoke took its place.

"Is this too much?" I asked.

The prolonged silence was killing me. Being blindfolded was just as bad.

The air shifted yet again. I was certain if I reached out, I'd find him right there. Within arm's reach.

My heart quickened and my breath grew heavy. I tried to calm it, but it wasn't working. He was too close.

What have I done?

"Never has a moment been more perfect. You are exquisite. Never doubt that," he said. His voice, though soft and low, was certain and clear.

An ironic and apprehensive soft laugh bounced around my chest as I tried to hide the bashful smile.

"Are you ready to share this with me," he asked. There was an underlying sensuality in his tone that captured me.

I nodded absentmindedly. "Mmhhmm." Was all I could do.

"Don't do that." The rich timbre of his voice shook slightly with warning. A familiar shiver of awareness coursed through me, pooling lower and lower with each passing second.

"Do what?" I said with breathy voice.

"If you bite your lip again, Melody. Mmm. We may regret it."

My cheeks weren't the only thing heating up. The aching and pulsing between my legs was suddenly very awake and set to Mount Saint Helen mode.

It wasn't right. I didn't want to feel this. We were friends. Among other complications. Sure, the idea of the Phantom was hot, at least before. But it was different now. I knew him.

Don't laugh uncontrollably. We want closeness. Please, don't say something stupid.

It was my trademark to fuck this kind of stuff up, because intimacy made me uncomfortable. Terrified me. Even when I yearned for it the most.

I truly hadn't thought this far. Honestly, I thought I'd be leaving a cake on a table for him to come get after I was gone.

"Open your mouth," he commanded softly.

Without thought, my lips parted, eagerly awaiting whatever he was planning.

The sweet smell of coconut-pecan filled my senses just before a small bit of fluffy, chocolate hit my tongue.

The flavors danced in my mouth. It was better than I remembered.

The faintest touch of a finger ran over my bottom lip. "How is it?" he asked. A hint of desperation in his voice deepened the thirst building inside me.

"Perfect," I said almost inaudibly.

"Good."

"You're supposed to try it first. I forgot to tell you that," I said, managing a full sentence to my shock.

"I will try it."

"That's not fair. It's your birthday."

"And it is the best birthday I've ever had."

I raised my hands in search of the cake. Knowing, I looked silly fumbling around.

"Oops..." I said, finding the cake with my thumb. "Sorry."

"It will not go wasted."

Cool, bare fingers wrapped around my hand. Tender, warm lips rested on the side of my thumb, forcing the smallest of gasps from me. He took me further into his mouth and sucked gently, running his tongue over it. Lightly grazing with his teeth as he pulled me out.

Suddenly, I was thankful for the blindfold. My eyes would have given me away as they rolled back. So away.

To continue standing was a feat in itself. My mind swirled with crazy, delicious thoughts. All of them ending with this man bottoming out inside of me on this chaise lounge. Maybe over the back of it. The vanity. Everywhere.

The desire for him was disgustingly strong. It screamed—SCREAMED—to be given attention by the masked man that spends his time teasing me. I'd even stay blindfolded if that was what he wanted.

An image began to form as he hummed into the palm of my hand which now rested against a partially exposed cheek and smooth mask.

He shifted slightly, careful not to lose contact with his skin, and stepped forward. With his free hand, he tilted my head up. "That is the best German Chocolate Cake I have had. Thank you." His hot, sweet breath hit my mouth.

Was I giving into my need for physical touch over getting home?

No, I'd still try to get home. That was the most important thing. Right? Right.

It didn't mean I couldn't indulge a little before then. And I care about him. More than I think I want to.

At least now I could leave with a clear conscience, right?

Could a kiss heal a fractured soul? This was my childish wish.

Time seized as pink glistening lips begged for tender attention.

My trembling hand hovered her unblemished, perfect face, attempting courage to cradle her as she did me.

Terror held back this act in fearfulness that it may go through her. Everything about her was pure. How could anyone like this exist?

All we have done until now, fantasy. Friends who stole moments in the night and shared secrets. Who fell asleep together after a night's reading. Played games that could be the end of us.

To lose such heaven because I scared her would be my undoing.

Demon's lips waited in ache to press to her. My cock raged to be set free. To bury myself within this woman who stands so freely with thee, and never leave. To make her mine and take her with me into the night.

My trembling hand froze above her shoulder as she made contact with my ribcage. Nimble fingers that could easily dance across a keyboard if taught, crept upwards to my chest.

Dearest God. You stop me with a word, and you kill me with your touch. Do not bite your lip... oh god, please don't look at me that way.

Allegro was my heart beneath her hand, could she feel such a tempo?

I weighed with nothing but want and leaned into her.

‘Take her now!'

She needs to want me. That would be the only way. I said, shutting up the Ghost .

Thawed fingertips pressed against the roundness of her soft cheek. A moan and lean of her head have me weak. I traveled down to the crook of her bare neck. The pulse beneath her flesh mirrored the beat in mine.

Courage closed my eyes as I reluctantly took my hand from hers and slid both of them around to the back of her head. Desperate lips hovered hers as I contemplated stealing the kiss she begged for, before this would end as it was meant to.

I had thought letting Christine go was the most terrifying choice I had made. This thing had never been more wrong.

The fabric that was once a barrier to keep me from sight fell as startled brown eyes dropped to the floor. Slowly, they moved upward. Closely, I watched for the moment angelic eyes would land on mine. Search for a wince or hint of lie to hide her own fear. Confirm everything I have ever known to be true.

Cautious brown eyes caught and held mine. I was stone as she searched the falsity I wore upon my face. Curiosity turned soft quickly, and a charming little smile crossed her face.

"Hi," she said, in the sweetest tone. Her eyes told me everything.

The world ceased to exist, and we were lost in the void. My hand found the nape of her neck as I stepped forward, closing any space left between us.

Lightning surged through this living dead man as my inexperienced lips collided with hers. I was Frankenstein's monster brought to life. This time by the kindest hand creation ever made.

Decades of desolation were incinerated within the explosions of my mind. Hope rose and wove around strands of unaltered, pure bliss.

The warmth of her hand on my face both calmed and excited. Lips were made of heaven, far more than any fantasy. And she was warm. So warm.

Emotions I had never known mixed within the euphoric chaos. My cock both pleased and disgruntled with the friction as we pressed together.

Hesitantly, we pulled apart only to take breath.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," I said, against the softness of her mouth.

Eyes that saw me stared back with a foreign hunger. I fell into her offering hand, clenching joyous weeps back. This woman, this kindness was too precious. Too much.

Her stare implored me, and the hot ache in my throat grew. My heart would never have a chance to run.

Fearing this experience would be a long gone memory, I crushed her into me, and reclaimed her lips for another soul mending kiss.

This man's kiss tasted of sugared pecans and coconut, baked in desire.

His cool touch was like ice on my heated skin. The perfect mix of sensations had me wishing the barriers of society were gone.

On the verge of orgasm and/or fainting I wasn't sure which, I forced myself to stay in this beautiful moment.

Fantasy had nothing on this. We were here. And we were real.

Every part of me yearned for this man. I ran my fingers through his dark hair, entwining them within the soft keratin strands. I gripped tighter, forcing a moan from the ghost that rumbled into my mouth.

The already firm hold he had on me tightened, forcing my head to loll back. Eager lips moved along my jaw and left a blazing trail of desire along the skin of my neck.

How did it get to this point? It was just talking...

Oh, I needed this masked man's cock inside me so badly. Craved for him to crush me with his body. Above me. Behind me. Beside me. Any which way we pleased, until dawn's early light, and then some.

He planted a heavy kiss in the crook of my neck. "Melody. My Melody. My Angel. Mon c?ur ..." he whimpered.

Moan inducing tingles spread from the vibration of his voice and hot breath on my already sensitive flesh.

I laid my head upon his as I stroked through his hair. He hummed a familiar tune in which I joined and we swayed.

The bare skin of his cheek ran up my neck and to my jaw. The innate need for him grew with every inch he moved. Skin on skin was intense and all consuming, furthering my indecent desires.

I'd hoped that he was going in for another kiss. Or I was going to be the attacker this time. Yes. I would take his tongue and allow my hands to wander. Maybe a bit south.

Thud.

My head snapped down to where the sound had come from.

On the floor at our feet, laid a white mask.

"No!" Erique screamed. His arms swung up quickly.

Startled at his quick movement, I stepped back, catching myself on the hem of my dress and fell to the floor.

I found horrified, tear filled eyes staring through stretched fingers trying cover a face. Hope seeping over his pale skin.

Then he was gone. And the secret door closed.

A wail made of sheer pain and heartbreak, bled through the vents in the walls a moment later, as I tried to gather myself.

Anyone within earshot of a vent would have just heard the Ghost's shattered dreams.

Tears leaked from my own eyes, and I dropped my head. "Oh, Erique."