Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 80(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 80(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
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.”
I can’t stop myself from chuckling at how creepy that would’ve sounded if the roles were reversed. But I can feel his want in the palm of my hand, pulsating and eager.
“Trust me, Baby Doll, I like it more than you realize.”
Staying within what I’d deem comfortable, I pinch the point of his bandana and lift it high enough to expose his sharp jaw, stubbled cheeks and eager lips. Still, to maintain some kind of anonymity, I cover his eyes to keep from getting a full glimpse of his face.
“Are you ready?” I whisper.
My response comes with the Cowboy flinging himself forward, and his hands wrapping around my midsection. He pulls me closer, our bodies, mouths and souls colliding in a heated embrace.
There’s nothing gentle about this. It’s an explosive release of the tension building up in both of us since the moment we met. My eyes fall shut, and I release his mask to fully lose myself to him.
Adding my second hand down his body, I start stroking him through his jeans. He groans into my mouth, allowing one of his hands to snap behind my neck and lock me into the kiss, while the other caresses my breasts on its way lower.
His fingers find their way to my over-eager pussy, caressing me through the layers.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans against my lips. “Soaked straight through your clothes.”