Page 8 of Masked
Good thing I came prepared for the inevitability.
“A moonlit ride. Horseback. You in front, me behind controlling the reigns. Tugging, pulling, steering the show to euphoria.” Closer to admitting my wants, but keeping it tame to gauge her reaction. With porcelain distorting her face, her eyes have to hold the answer. They don’t give much away yet. It’s what I say next that will define where the rest of our night is headed. “But you should know, there won’t be a saddle. It’s bareback or nothing.”
Her eyes widen. If my initial statement didn’t make it clear there’d be no horse involved, the latter would. I’m putting my theory to the test. Seeing if the signals were clear or if I’ve got them mixed. Taking it slow is fine and dandy, but that’s just wasting time if she’s on board for this . . . ride.
As the astonishment of my forwardness begins to fade, her eyes settle in half-narrowed allure. She has to be smiling. Maybe chewing her lip while she pictures all the terribly delightful things I want to do to her.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re more of a desperado than a cowboy?” She asks, a black painted brow raising above her eye. “You know, the Man-With-No-Name type. Here for a good time, not a long time. Drifting into town, dueling at high noon, and rolling out with the tumbleweeds.”
Because I was, until I met you.
“So long as you’re here, I’m not going anywhere,” I say blunt. No more tests. The direct approach worked better than beating around the bush, and I’d rather follow that path than watching my words and being something I’m not.
“Oh, you don’t know that.” She winks, and my heart sinks into my guts. If I wasn’t sure this part of me died a long time ago, I’d think I was getting nervous. “I could be horribly disfigured.”
“Sugar, there ain’t a thing in this world that can pull me away from your side. Not unless the big man upstairs strikes me down with one of his lightning bolts.”
She giggles and the sound is joyful, angelic and pure. “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter? Give me a chance to get to meet the man behind the mask.”
I look over my shoulder, eagerly. Searching for a place in this club that might give us proper reprieve from the thunderous booming. There aren’t any.
“Doesn’t look like there’s anywhere to go.” Doubt she has any intention of going outside again. And although I’ve tickled her interest, I doubt she’s ready to get out of here so soon with a man she doesn’t know.
“Ah, should’ve guessed you weren’t a regular.” Launching out of her chair, she grabs my hand.
Before I know what’s happening, she’s dragging me through the club again. Over the dancefloor, up a short flight of stairs, and to a door that is so well hidden against the black backdrop on the wall, I’d have never spotted it.
We enter, and though it’s a wall away from the main room, this place might as well be a world apart.
Old rock songs play at lower volumes from four cheap speakers in the corners. Posters of Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Jimi Hendrix are strewn across the walls. The patrons up here havehad their fill for the night, found their mates, and are settling as they come down from their highs.
A small bar on one end serves the stragglers who find themselves up here. The barman is older, mean looking, the no-nonsense type who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.
This suits my needs.Ourneeds. Calm, soothing, tranquil. A better place to decompress than being among the screaming horde back down there.
We approach the bar and I expect Taylor to let go of my hand. She doesn’t, rubbing my knuckles with her thumb while I order our beers.
It’s pleasant. I like it.
“Just realized something,” Taylor says, when the barman delivers our drinks. I pay him with a twenty, tell him to keep the change, and give her my undivided attention. “I never said thank you for what you did out there.”
“And you never have to.” Clinking the long necks of our bottles together, I give her the most charming smile I can force on my face. Only then realizing, she can’t even see it. “Can’t have folks like that walking around, thinking they rule this world.”
Playing into the hero fantasy is an added bonus. If anyone should be giving thanks, it’s me. To the prick I left in a messy puddle outside. He made the task of winning Taylor’s favor a breeze. Saving her from whatever dark intentions he had, left her floating gleefully in the palm of my hand.
All that’s left to do is snatch her. Make her mine before she comes to her senses.
“It’s more than just him. You’ve done a lot more than you know.”
We walk, hand in hand, to a booth in a distant corner. I fall in first and Taylor joins at my side.
“Tonight’s been strange. From good, to bad, to great, to worse, to . . .” she pauses, sucking in a few short, sharp breaths. Fiddling with a bottle cap between four slender fingers, she sighs, relieved. “This.”
“This?” I rest my back against the wall, keeping my eyes glued to hers. They’re my only window to her emotions. Seeing them glow with joy is wonderful, but that can flip on a dime.
If it happens, I need to know the second it does. Adjust course and change tactics. I’m not wasting this opportunity.
“Yes. Whatever it is. Long time, good time, doesn’t matter. Just this.” She waggles the bottlecap between us to ensure her message is clear.
