Page 47 of Pretend
Maybe they’re the people involved with human trafficking.
But then, a tall, familiar masked man got out with an umbrella, and I saw those vibrant ice-grey eyes.
Daegan is wearing his full mask again. It looks like he changed outfits from El Devine to now. He’s wearing dark grey sweatpants, a black sweater, and black and white Converse.
I squinted through the rain, seeing those eyes I’ve come to know so well, and a wave of relaxation hit me, washing up the apprehension and hesitation.
He’s massive, tall, and mysterious. I asked how tall Danny was one day, and he told me he was 6’6. So when they both stood up at El Devine, I realized they were the same height.
Daegan waved me over, ordering me to get in his car. I complied immediately, and I had to do whatever I could to stop my eyes from bulging when I saw the outline of his cock through his sweatpants.
If my eyes didn’t deceive me, he’s huge.
When he brushed his finger over my bottom lip, I couldn’t help but enjoy it too much. I wish he had pushed it into my mouth, and for a moment there, I thought he was going to. When his finger was on my mouth, it sent a pulsating strike straight in between my thighs, and my dirty thoughts went rampant. I wonder what his lips would feel like on mine. I wonder what his entire face looks like.
The energy in his car shifted into something hot and forbidden.
God, what is wrong with me?
I know I just broke up with Jack a few hours ago. Maybe I’m sad, maybe I’m depressed, and maybe I’m angry, but why does a night with him intrigue me so much?
It’s been so long since I’ve felt this heated attraction with someone. Even though I’ve been with Jack since college, I feel so inexperienced when it comes to pleasure and different kinks that I’m curious to explore.
The break-up with Jack was long overdue. I lost feelings for him a long time ago. Our relationship turned into contentment. But then he started to become aggressive and distant, and our connection dwindled.
And now, the betrayal I didn’t want or see coming came true.
Bailey’s friendship is gone with it.
Our proximity in the car sends my thighs clenching tight together. His cologne hit me hard, mixed with smoke and his leather seats. Those smells combined created an aroma I could get lost in forever.
Call me crazy, but I fucking love it.
I want to know more about Daegan. I want him to let me in. I can only imagine he wears the mask because he doesn’t want people to ask questions about how he got his scars or tell the tale of what it was like being a prisoner of war. Maybe he doesn’t want to open up about what he went through, but if he ever did, I’d be all ears.
I hate myself for asking him why he wears his mask. Maybe I overstepped, but his response tells me he didn’t mind it.
As we sit in silence listening to Metallica, we turn into a neighborhood.
His house is one story but very spacious. It’s in a neighborhood on the outskirts of Bloomings where everyone has one—to two-acre lots. All the houses look like newly built ones.
He really does live around ten minutes away from where he found me.
The storm gets dangerously louder with thunder, and the rain doesn’t let up.
He shields me from the rain with his umbrella as we make our rapid walk to the front of his house. He opens the black-painted door fast, motioning for me to get in, and I practically jump inside.
As soon as he shuts and locks the door behind me, we’re met with darkness and a smell that’s familiar. His home smells like Daegan in all the right ways. I’m still shivering from the cold and wet. He flicks on a switch, illuminating an entryway.
“There is a shower in the hallway, but you can use the shower in my bathroom. There’s shampoo in there since I live alone, and I’ll let you borrow someof my clothes, so you have something dry to sleep in.” He walks in front of me, guiding me inside a hallway. His Converse makes low thuds as he walks. Before I make a turn, I see an all-black couch that wraps around the entire living room and a TV mounted to his light grey colored wall. An all-black colored kitchen with minimal to no decorations but whiskey bottles and sprinkles of military awards on scattered modern pieces of furniture.
A decorated hero.
We turn into the hallway, where there are photos framed alongside it.
There’s a photo of two other men, and it looks like they’re at a bar that’s not El Devine. They’re holding up pizza and beer and look happy, like they’re cheering for a celebration. Another one follows, and it looks like a deployment photo somewhere overseas. They’re in their uniforms, holding rifles, alongside a SEAL team. I see Mr. Rider and Enzo Rooker, which means it has to be SEAL Team executioners.
The last photo I see before entering his bedroom is of a beautiful woman with long black hair holding a baby boy wrapped in a blanket. She’s in a long white dress with sleeves and blue eyeshadow painted beautifully across her eyelids. She has the same ice eyes as Daegan. There’s such a peaceful essence in the way she’s holding him while sitting on a couch.
