Page 10 of Masked
“What if he had a gun?” Until tonight, I’ve lived a cautious, sheltered life. Heard stories on TV and from friends and family about how everyone’s carrying a gun these days, and it’s best to co-operate rather than instigate.
Then there’s my Cowboy, complete opposite to me in every way. A careless, carefree, risk taker.
“What if I have one?”
“Fair point,” I say, but the thought of him carrying a weapon doesn’t scare me as much as it probably should. As it would have earlier tonight, had he not swooped in to save me from disaster.
In fact, I think I kind of like it, the thrill and danger of wading through these unchartered territories.
His gaze remains stern, but there’s an odd caution in the way his eyes flick between mine and over my doll-faced mask. As if he’s studying me for the best response before he speaks again.
“Unjust cruelty,” he says, placing his hand atop the one I have on his leg. “Cannot go unpunished. No matter the risk or consequence, I will not stand for it. Especially when it’s directed at something or someone as precious as you.”
Without thinking, my free hand shoots up to my mask. I pull it off to show him my face. It’s the hardest part of nights like this, right? Exposing yourself when you were hidden for so long. Looks aren’t everything, I get that, but it’s easier said than followed.
“Fuck,” he finally speaks, after a long analysis of my exposed face.
My cheeks instantly burn red hot at his response to my unveiling. My heart starts thumping harder, faster, igniting the uneasy feeling of my tummy doing cart wheels.
His response, a simple word, has too many meanings for me to derive any concrete answers. Worse still, his tone didn’t give me any indication of if he’s happy, disappointed or somewhere in between.
Too nervous to speak, I wait for him to go on . . . Give me a sign that I didn’t just screw things up by taking my mask off.
“You’re stunning,” he sets my nerves at ease in an instant. “From head to toe, fucking perfect.”
Stunned by his reaction, my body makes moves my mind hasn’t fully caught up to. I scooch nearer to him, until scooching isn’t an option. Then I get on my knees in the booth, facing him directly, closing the distance between us.
He observes me with curious anticipation, one brow cocked above his eye, eager to see what I do next.
“Must be hard,” I say with a little grin. “Knowing exactly what to say and when to say it all the time.”
“Comes naturally,” a grizzled response from an eager man, fighting to stay in control.
“Well, tonight it comes with one hell of a reward.” Winking at him, I move my hand off his thigh and up to the pointy black end of his mask.
Deep rumbling emits from his chest as his hand snaps around my wrist, halting me from reaching my destination. His steel gaze doesn’t show any sign of disapproval, merely indifference at my attempt to demask him.
But if that truly were the case, he wouldn’t have stopped me.
“What’s the matter, Cowboy?” I ask, playfully. We should be past this by now. We’ve spent the better part of an hour in this booth, chatting shit and making flirty eyes at each other. There’s no reason to be shy, scared or anything other than excited about taking this to the next level.
“Not ready,” he says huskily.
“Why not?” I don’t move away from my spot, lingering in the scent of his oaky cologne, our faces so close together, we could hear each other’s whispers.
I doubt that’s what either of us want to do with our lips.
He grumbles in response.
“If you’re worried about what I’m going to think when you take it off, Cowboy, you shouldn’t be,” I break free from his grip, sliding my hand down the front of his body. He shivers as I reach his belt, grumbles excitedly as I brush past it, and crumbles in his chair as I brush my palm over his thick, already throbbing, manhood. “It’s just gonna be a hell of a lot harder to kiss you, if you keep the mask on.”
“You’re a smart girl,” he sounds strained, as though my touch is too much to bear. Right where I want him. “You’ll figure it out.”
He’s right.
I’ll overcome any obstacles to get what I want.
“Then I won’t take it off.” Keeping one hand against his cock, the other moves back to his mask. He’ll just have to trust that my intentions are pure. “But this is happening whether you like it or not.”
