Page 44 of Twilight Mask

He looks at me, head tilted to the side, studying me. I feel so insanely seen, and this time, I don’t like it. When we’re playing, I crave a sense of vulnerability. It heightens the experience and intensifies the fear.

This is different. It’s like he’s standing inside of my head and rooting around my memories, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it. When I was teasing him earlier, I really did like the idea of him showing up. But now that he’s here?

“You’re uncomfortable.” He steps toward me, expressionless mask staring. “You thought it was an empty offer.”

“I thought it was a safe offer. I never imagined you could pull it off.”

“It turns out I’m willing to take considerable risks if it means being close to you.”

I let that sink in. And it honestly scares me, how much I like it.

He comes closer. I stare at his body, at the lean lines of his muscular frame, and I feel that shiver rush through me again. Lust, desire, need, it bubbles into my core, and I’m fidgeting with expectation and nerves. The shock of him showing up in my house slowly begins to fade, replaced by the raw animal want that’s always floating in my veins whenever he’s around.

But there’s something else in my head. “You know what I was thinking about?” I brush past him before he can get too close. I move over to the stairs and start climbing them. The basement is my haven, but I can handle him up in the kitchen.

He follows without a word. Maybe he understands, maybe he doesn’t. I go to the refrigerator and pour two glasses of white wine. He watches me, saying nothing. I wash the dust off my hands and arm and gulp my glass down as I dry myself with a dish rag. He leaves his glass untouched.

“What were you thinking about, little demon?” he asks.

I meet his eyes. “When you kissed me.”

“Do you think about it often?”

“I don’t know.” I touch my lips with two fingers. “But you’ve only done it once. Is that part of the game?”

“I’m not sure,” he admits and it sounds like he’s genuinely puzzled.

“Maybe kissing is too intimate?”

“That can’t be it. I dream about claiming your mouth every day.”

I refuse to whimper right now, even though the idea of him dominating my lips is more than a little appealing.

“Then what?”

“The mask.” He tilts his head. “It’s in the way.”

“Then take it off,” I whisper, heart skipping beats. The kitchen’s dim lighting makes him seem ten feet taller than he is as he comes near me.

“You know I can’t,” he says, speaking quietly, making me strain to listen.

“But what if you did?” I ask, and even though I know it risks ruining everything, I let the words rush out. “We could put the mask back on. We could still play. You know who I am. Maybe it’s time I find out who you are.”

He stops inches away from me. I reach up and touch the edge of my mask, and he doesn’t move to stop it. I could yank it off and see who he is, but I don’t move. The lacquered jackal face is cold under my fingertips, and I can feel his warm breath on my wrists.

“If you do this, it’ll be the end,” he whispers. “I know you don’t believe me, but trust is a part of what we do. You have to trust me, Laura. If you take off my mask, you won’t want to put it back on, and nothing will be the same.”

I’m so tempted. He’s in my house, in my space, and I want to know who he is with a sudden reckless ferocity. This man broke into my life, came into my basement, into my heart and my haven, and all I want in return is to see his face. That’s not asking a lot.

Except I can’t bring myself to take the mask off, because I know he’s right.

“How are you going to kiss me then?” I whisper back, goosebumps running down my skin.

He reaches up and brushes a hand across my cheek. The other wraps around my side and presses a palm into my lower back. I take a sharp breath as he draws me closer, and the mask nudges back slightly, revealing a tan jawline. Square, just like I knew it was, with light brown stubble.

“Close your eyes and don’t peek.”

“Jackal—”

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