True Colors
Authors: Melissa Pearl
TRUE COLORS
The Mask Series
Book 1
Melissa Pearl
True Colors copyright © 2014 by Melissa Pearl
Cover design copyright © 2014 by Kate Strawbridge
Formatting by
Bob Houston eBook Formatting
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
*****
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
*****
True Colors, Book I, The Mask Series by Melissa Pearl
Published by Evatopia Press
8447 Wilshire Blvd., Ste. 401, Beverly Hills, CA 90211
a division of Evatopia, Inc.
See other titles by Melissa Pearl at
http://www.melissapearlauthor.com
For Sharyn
The lady who's always looking out for everyone else.
You are a good soul, my friend.
xxx
A single moment in time can change everything. The night a stranger's hand touched mine, I was thrown into a new reality I never could have imagined.
And to think that only a few hours earlier, I had no idea it was coming...
Chapter 1
Okay, Chase just took my shirt off. Whipped it over my head and I let him. Did I want to let him?
Yes, yes, I definitely did. His naked chest pressing against my stomach felt divine. I ran my hand over his sinewy shoulders as his lips skimmed my collarbone, his tongue trailing a path down to the edge of my bra.
Was he going to take it off?
My insides clenched at the idea. No guy had ever touched me that way before. And I did want Chase to, at least I think I did.
I wondered how long it would take him to figure out how non-existent my breasts were. My brother, Toby, always teased me, saying if you took me into the ocean, you could surf me to shore because I was so flat and skinny.
What if Chase thought the same thing? Would he still want me?
I ran my fingers through Chase’s fine brown hair as his mouth worked back up my neck and his arm slid beneath my back.
Surely he’d worked it out by now. If he didn’t like skinny girls, he wouldn’t have even gone for me, right? And with his body melded to mine, I could definitely tell he was into me...if you know what I mean.
When I’d invited Chase into my empty house and closed my bedroom door with a definitive click, I’d made my intentions very clear. A playful smile had danced across his lips as he’d pulled me against him and firmly kissed me. Next thing I knew we were on my bed and his shirt was on the floor.
Chase’s fingers fidgeted with the clasp of my bra. I leaned into him, eager for his touch, but also wrestling with the small part of me that wanted to squish my back onto the bed so he couldn’t. I don’t know why I suddenly felt so vulnerable. We’d been dating for a couple of months. Chase was more than ready. He’d been hinting at doing this for weeks. I should go for it. I should let him.
I was an eighteen-year-old virgin. It was about time I experienced this. I was ready. Wasn’t I?
“Caitlyn, are you home?” My insides went ice cold as I heard my mom’s voice. And then to make matters worse, she only knocked once before pushing the door open. “Oh!”
Chase leapt off me, adjusting his pants and trying to swivel away so she couldn’t see just how excited he was. He ran a hand through his mussed up locks and sort of grinned. “Hey, Mrs. Davis.”
She didn’t say a word, just folded her arms across her pristine white blouse and glared at him.
I scrambled for my shirt, crumpled on the floor beside Chase’s. I flung his cotton T-shirt at him. He caught it with a mumbled thank you and pulled it on.
My face was on fire. My heart was thrumming erratically as I slid my shirt on and tugged it over my exposed naval. Mom was eyeballing me big time, but I couldn’t look at her.
Chase snatched up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “Well, I should go, because...um, well I...I have um...homework.”
Yeah, right! Chase never had homework. Or if he did, I never saw him doing it, like ever.
Mom must have known this too, because her doubtful glare was almost comical. Almost.
“Of course you do.” Cynicism dripped off every syllable as she kept eyeing my boyfriend up with those hard, brown eyes. They were usually soft and warm like chocolate, but not today. Today they looked like burnt umber - irate and seething. She never really liked Chase and this was so not helping.
Chase’s confident facade buckled beneath her gaze. Slightly flustered, he turned to me, his eyes rounding with a
what the hell is her problem
kind of look.
I shrugged and forced a smile, trying not to let the full humiliation of this moment sink in.
“I’ll see ya, Caitlyn.” Chase gave me a short wave before awkwardly squeezing past my mother. Her glare followed him out the door before slowly tracing back to me.
My cheeks were raging with a hot blush as my gaze hit the floor. I never knew the carpet could be quite so interesting. After what felt like a century of stony silence, I finally gave in and glanced up. Mom’s dark eyes chastised me. I wasn’t quite sure how to react. I’d never been caught doing anything too naughty before. The odd misdemeanour, but nothing to get in a flap about. This however...well, in Mom’s book, I was pretty sure this would be classed as unacceptable. I folded my arms to mirror her and went for a nonchalant shrug, my usual defence to any form of conflict.
She opened her mouth to respond, her hot words ready to scald me, but she thought better of it. Pressing her lips together, she narrowed her eyes. She was obviously too pissed to talk it out. I knew it would come later - so not cool - but I had no problem with her procrastination. Mom was the silent type. She liked to let things simmer until she could articulate her irritation without hurting anyone’s feelings. In spite of being busted, I felt lucky on that count.
She grabbed the doorknob, her terse words only just audible, “I’m guessing you have homework too. You might want to get that done before dinner.”
Again with the raised eyebrows.
I stifled a groan and rose from my bed. I was tempted to turn and straighten the covers, but decided against it. I knew it would make my mother happy, but it would also make me look guilty and I wasn’t sure I wanted to feel that way. I was 18! I could have sex with my boyfriend if I wanted to.
Crossing to my desk, I avoided eye contact and took a seat, not looking at my door until I heard it click shut. With a little huff, I dropped my head into my hands and begged the bedroom floor to open up and swallow me whole.
*****
The thing about my parents is, they’re kind of old. I mean they’re not ancient, but compared to the rest of my friends’ parents, they may as well be dusted off and displayed in a museum. I mean they’ve got five grandchildren already.
You see they were done with their family. Two boys. Two girls. The perfect set. And then my unplanned-self came along. To say I was an unexpected surprise is a major understatement. Mom was like 44 when she found out she was pregnant with me and I think it took her and Dad a long time to deal with it. Toby, the ‘baby’ of the family was nearly fourteen when I came along. So I’ve kind of been raised as an only child. It doesn’t bother me too much, until afternoons like this when all the heat is on me. There are no siblings to throw the attention to, because I’m the only one still at home.
I slumped down the stairs after Mom’s dinner call.
We’d lived in this house since Toby was one. That’s like 30 years. I wasn’t complaining or anything. The Pacific Palisades is the nicest part of L.A., in my opinion. The beach is ten minutes away. That was something vitally important to my whole family. We’ve all grown up in and around the water.
I ran my hand along the hallway wall, the way I always did when I headed to the dining room. It’s like this little tunnel before popping out into an expansive open planned area. It didn’t used to be like that. When Toby moved to San Diego ten years ago, my parents decided to go ahead with the big renovations they’d been saving for. The front half of the house was gutted to make room for shiny new wooden floors, a sparkling state of the art kitchen and a plush sunken-in living area. A little 1970s if you ask me, but Mom had always wanted one and for this particular project she got everything she desired, including my parents “suite.” After years of having kids in their faces all day, my parents finally earned themselves a private wing that we were basically banned from entering.
I do love the alterations. I love the open expanse, the way it leads to a huge sunny deck area. They did good and out of all the siblings, I’ve reaped the majority of the benefits. At least there was one cool thing about being the youngest by miles.
I pulled out my regular chair and took a seat, still not wanting to look my mother in the eye. Her super quiet mode was slightly unnerving. It didn’t help that Dad was away on some golfing weekend. I mean I liked that he was, because I so didn’t want to face a disapproving frown from him too. I’m his “little peanut.” Seth and I look just like him with our dark blonde hair and blue eyes; the other three all took after Mom. In spite of Dad's effort, he couldn't help a touch of favoritism when it came to his eldest and youngest children.
Much to my siblings' angst, my dad has laxed out big time on discipline. I think Toby used up all his will power and now I basically get away with everything. Luckily for him, I’m a good kid. I think he’d be gutted about my behavior with Chase though, even if I knew a smile or two would win him over, earning me some back up.
“She’s eighteen, Suzy,” he’d say to my mom. “Let her be.”
In saying all that, the idea of his peanut getting it on with her boyfriend...may not fly so well. No, it was definitely better that he was not here!
A fresh chicken salad with a side of homemade bread was plopped in front of me. I eyed the brown bread, stuffed full of seeds and various nuts...I had no idea what they were. I know Mom’s heard of plain white bread before, because I’ve mentioned it several times, but she just gives me that look and asks me why I’d want to put pillow stuffing into my system. The curse of being a nutritionist’s daughter, I guess.
I picked at my salad as Mom sat across from me with her freshly squeezed guava juice. The awkwardness was somewhat painful, but I decided not to let it bother me. At least I decided that until I’d stuffed over half my meal into my mouth and couldn’t handle one second more of her dark glare and repeated tutting.
"What?" My fork clattered to the table.
"I didn't say anything." She shrugged.
"You didn’t have to. It's written all over your face.” I threw my arms in the air. “Would you just spit it out, please!"
"Alright fine.” She gently placed her empty glass on the table and crossed her arms. “I don't think teenagers understand what an emotional responsibility sex is."
"Mom, it's just—"
"Don't say it's just sex.” Her eyes were on fire.
I swallowed back my words and slumped into my chair, knowing I’d have to hear this one out.
“There's no such thing as
just
sex. I hate the way people cheapen it like that. When you're with someone in that way it should be amazing and magical and mind-blowing."