Page 3 of Masked
But that isn’t Margaret.
She has the same facial structure, soft, dainty and elegant, but no wrinkles and lines from a hard life lived. Even through the black paint covering half her face, no doubt the foundation of her Halloween outfit, I can see how pretty she is.
Her dazzling blue eyes sparkle in the ambient yellow restaurant light. Tears welling in the lids amplify their sparkle. Make them shine like precious diamonds coated in muddy, black dirt.
Young, fit, and beautiful enough to floor me where I stand.
“Dad? Are you okay?” Her lower jaw chatters in a mix of fear and anger.
“Dad?” I echo.
You’re telling me this sack of shit produced something precious? Man, if he’s up there, God has a funny sense of humor.
And I kinda like it.
“It’s okay, Baby. I’m fine,” Father of the year right here, putting on a brave face and lying to his girl.
“I don’t think she’s gonna buy that one,” I say. With his hands tied and his off-white shirt splattered with red, she’d have to be blind to miss it.
Realizing I’m not about to make another life-ending threat, the firecracker sprints toward us. She stops in front of me, slamming both tiny fists into my chest, using all her might to force me away from him. I give her credit for trying and take a sympathy step back.
She flops down beside her father and cups his bloody face in her hands, looking for any lasting damage. There won’t be any, once his broken nose and black eye heal.
I watch in silence as she inspects his wounds. More accurately, I watchher.
This close, I have a great view of her petite, athletic frame in the black leotard hugging every curve. Massive tits squeezed together and peeking out the top of it. Tight ass that has a perfect peach shape, begging for a spanking.
God damn, I love Halloween.
“What did you do to him?” Her ire is directed at me. She flicks her long hair out of her face, until it runs down her back in a river of blazing red curls.
“Hit him.” No use denying it.
Tears flood eyes, but they’re not of sadness. She’s pissed. Absolutely furious. My kind of woman.
“You’re a monster,” she yells while freeing her father’s hands. No caution or care for what I might do next.
A warrior’s spirit.
“It is the spooky season, Sugar. Time for my kind to crawl out of the woodwork and cause a little chaos.” Hmm. It’s not like me to act this way, especially with unwarranted interruptions. Then again, it’s not every day I get to beat a man and fall in love all at once.
“Fuck you,” she spits.
“Taylor,” Johnny raises his voice in some feeble attempt to settle her rage.
Taylor.Yeah, I like it. Fits her, somehow.
“Calm down,” he adds. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Make her beg and scream, perhaps?
And isn’t it just a wonderful idea. Something tells me it’s gonna happen sooner than either of them knows, only, it won’t be for her life.
It’ll be for more, more, more.
“No, fuck this. Fuck him.” Taylor roars with untethered rage. It ignites a spark in my belly that courses straight into my rock-hard cock. “I won’t let him walk all over you.”
Feisty. Fiery. Fantastic.
