Page 12 of Underneath the Mask

Amanda

Erica twists my arm, convincing me to ride over to the store with her so she can show off some of the new inventory. It’s not like I have any big plans today besides my nap. It doesn’t take much coercing on her part. Soon we are in the back room laughing and giggling as I continue to add odds and ends to my pile of clothes to try on.

“You know, I really could use the help with curating different lines. It wouldn’t be much, but it would give you something to work with and the more you put into it, the more you’ll get out of it.” Erica casually suggests, as I hold up a black satin shirt.

“I’ll think about it. Like actually though, I’ve been thinking a lot about quitting my job.” I confess.

She gives me a questioning look. “Is this because he made partner?”

I nod. “He’s like a really big boss now. It’s been kind of nice having a little extra time to spend together since we usually have none. It’s not much, but I’ll take it.”

Erica smiles. “Well, you seem really happy. I say do it. You only live once.”

My face lights up with happiness. I can’t believe I’m actually considering quitting, or at the very least dropping to part time. “Thanks, I need the encouragement. It feels uncomfortable to just rely on a man to take care of me. I’ve never had that before, and part of me would feel guilty.”

“Don’t feel guilty, Amanda. You got yourself a good one, even if he works a lot. He cares about you. You know I believe in you and I’ll support any decision you make. I’m not just saying that because I want you to be my partner in crime.”

“I know. That’s why you are such a good friend.” I give Erica a big hug.

She’s given me a lot to think about. I have options, I’m loved, and all these doubts about my man are probably just nerves. Women everywhere would kill for a man who wants to take care of them and provide everything they need. I have to stop convincing myself he doesn’t want me, or that something is wrong. I should appreciate that our relationship is built on so much more than intimacy.

I help Erica with her inventory and have a blast dressing up the mannequin. We spend some much needed time catching up. It’s late afternoon by the time we finish. Erica has a meeting with the city council in an hour since she sits on the shopping center chamber of commerce. She offered to take me home, but I opted to walk. The last thing I want to do is inconvenience her by sending Erica the opposite direction and making her backtrack to the meeting. Besides, there’s plenty of daylight and it won’t be dark for a few hours.

She hesitates at first. “Are you sure? I can drive you.”

“It’s only a few blocks home,” I quickly reassure her, gathering the clothes I picked out, pay her for them at an insanely steep discount because she insists, then wave goodbye.

“I promise I’ll text you when I get home so you aren’t worrying about me.” I say, before turning to walk away.

I begin my trek home. It’s two blocks back to the house and late afternoon. There’s plenty of traffic around and plenty of sunlight. I convince myself I’m not worried, but deep down inside, I am riddled with anxiety.Honestly, Amanda, you should have just asked Erica for a ride back home. She wouldn’t have thought it was an inconvenience,I scold myself as I cross the street.

I notice a man sitting alone outside the smoothie shop. His back is to me, so I can’t see his face. He’s wearing a black hoodie and sweatpants. I’m not sure why, but he makes me feel uncomfortable. I walk a little faster and soon I’m rounding the corner of the first block.

When I turn, my eye catches movement out of the corner and I spin around to nothing. There’s no one there, but it feels like someone is following me. I have a nagging feeling in my gut, telling me I’m not alone. I cast a glance over my shoulder and immediately do a double take. For a minute I freeze, staring down the street. I’m certain a man in a black hoodie just dove down an alley and out of sight. It’s not cold, but I shiver anyway.

Deep in my chest, my heart is pounding. I’m walking as fast as I can but still a half a block from the corner that will lead me home. My blood is pumping so hard it whooshes in my ears. I chance another look back over my shoulder. I don’t see anything, but when I turn back around, I run right into a large, firm, muscular body. Big strong hands envelope my waist, drawing me in close against his body so he can rasp into my ear.

“Hello, Masterpiece.”

Fuck! My pussy shouldn’t ignite at the sound of his voice, but it betrays me, erupting with burning, fervent desire. I knew I didn’t imagine this. It was all far too real to have been a dream or figment of my imagination.

“I knew you were real,” I whisper foolishly, not intending to say it out loud.

“Of course I’m real. If I wasn’t real, would I be able to do this?” He asks, placing his hand between my thighs and forcing his fingers against me to rub over my pussy. It’s wet and waiting for him.

Even it remembers how good he felt and the piercing. Thinking about the way it felt to slide across it has me quickly turning into a puddly mess. He grinds his hand against me, more firmly this time, and a soft moan escapes my parted lips. My head falls back and the sunlight glistens in my eyes, blinding me long enough to snap me back to reality. Still hazy with desire, I try to push away from him, but he stops me.

“Oh, tsk, tsk tsk, Amanda. What’s the hurry? Be a good host and entertain me.” His words drip with a lust filled danger coated venom as he grabs my hand and rubs it up and down his hard length.

When I don’t willfully stroke him, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the knife from the other night. “I said, be a good little whore, and greet me properly, Masterpiece.”

My nipples harden from the silky, alluring way his words set off alarms in my body.You’re sick, Amanda. You shouldn’t be enjoying this.But I am. In fact, I’m enjoying every bit of it. Even though I know I should run, I want to fuck him again. It’s not fair, my life is perfect. Why does this masked man have to make everything so confusing?Knee him right in the cock and run, Amanda.My brain screams at me, but my feet remain firmly planted on the sidewalk.

Somewhere nearby a trash can crashes to the ground with a thud. He releases me, instantly caught off guard. There are no second thoughts. This time my brain powers on my feet and I bolt, running as fast as I can back to the house.

”Run, run, run, little masterpiece. You can’t hide from me. I know exactly where to find you,” he bellows in his deep, raspy voice.

I look back over my shoulder, but he’s gone, and I can’t hear any shoes slapping against the concrete but my own. By the time I turn the corner, I’m panting hard, gasping for breath. I might be on the verge of an asthma attack, but I’m not stopping until I make it inside safely. My feet carry me racing up the front steps swiftly, where I stop to fumble with the door.

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