Page 16 of My Masked Savior
“You look tired.”
“It’s been a long trip.” She tugs at her gym bag strap. “Family and all that.”
“Right.” I step closer. “Christmas.”
“Yeah.”
The silence stretches. She’s waiting for me to say more.Still, I’m cataloging details—the shadows under her eyes, the way she keeps glancing past my shoulder, the rapid pulse visible at her throat.
She wanted to see me. Came here looking for me.
That shouldn’t matter, but it does.
“Water?” I offer the fountain.
“Sure.” She moves past me, and our hands brush as she reaches for the button.
The contact is brief. Electric.
She jerks back slightly, color flooding her cheeks.
“Sorry,” she breathes.
“Don’t be.”
The water fountain hums between us, and I make the decision.
“Have a drink with me.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“There’s a bar two blocks over.”
She bites her lip, and I track the movement. “I don’t know?—”
“One drink.” I keep my voice level, unthreatening. “You look like you could use it.”
The resistance flickers across her face—fear, want, uncertainty. I wait, letting the silence work for me.
“Okay,” she whispers. “One drink.”
“Meet you at the entrance in fifteen minutes?”
She nods, already backing toward the women’s locker room.
I head the opposite direction, my pulse hammering harder than it should. This is strategic. Necessary. I need to know what happened with Marco, gauge how much danger she’s in, and determine if my timeline needs to be accelerated.
That’s the only reason.
It’s a fucking lie, and I know it.
In the shower, water cascades over my shoulders, but it doesn’t cool the heat spreading through my body. My cock is hard, straining, the image of Morgan in that black lingerie seared into my brain. The way she touched herself, the sounds she must have made?—
I wrap my hand around my length, stroking fast and rough. No finesse. Just need.
“Fuck,” I breathe, bracing against the tile. “Princess.”
I imagine her on her knees instead. Those dark eyes look up at me while I guide my cock between her lips. The way she’d look, taking me, cheeks hollowed, throat working?—
