CHAPTER NINE
KELLAN
I just had the best sex of my entire existence; with the most beautiful woman I have ever known.
And I think she enjoyed it. Her compliance to my every command tells me she did. And I now have the urge to buy her some food and a hot comforting drink. I want to sit her on my lap, wrap her in a blanket, and tell her how good she is.
The only problem is—she can’t truly know my real identity. Then she would think I stalked her. Well, then she would know I stalked her.
How do I get myself out of this? How am I supposed to stay close, and not let her know it’s me under the mask?
I can't let go of her now. Never. Not after tonight. I thought I was obsessed before. Ha.
The second we step inside, her friend barrels toward her, throwing her arms around Opal. She presses her lips to Opal’s ear and shouts over the music, voice loud, careless. “You smell like cum!”
Her cheeks bloom a deep scarlet.
I did that to her. She’s marked, claimed, carrying the proof of what we just shared.
I turn to her, pointing at her then a thumbs up. A silent question.
She smiles and nods. Then—she plants herself to my side. Her head resting in the nook of my bicep. My heart swells. I wrap my arm around her, trying not to tremble with excitement.
She looks to her friend, “Alex I’m tired, do you wanna get an Uber and go get some food?”
“No way!” She jerks her chin toward the bar, “See the Jedi over there, I’m gonna stay with him. I can place an Uber for you though!”
I step in as soon as the redhead pulls her phone out. Shaking my head and wagging my finger.
The thought of Opal in a stranger's car alone, dressed like… this, makes my stomach flip.
Poison Ivy looks at me in shock, her mouth agape. Opal looks at me and I nod.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Alex?” She asks, leaning in toward her friend.
Alex enthusiastically nods with grin. “Text me when you’re home.”
Opal nods and gives her friend one last hug before turning back to me.
I take her hand and lead her through the thick crowd, weaving us out of the house and into the biting night air.
She shivers, and it drives a blade through my chest. At the truck, I guide her toward the passenger door. She looks at me hesitant, but climbs in. My heart squeezes in my chest, she trusts me.
And suddenly I feel guilt. Sadness hits me like a wall. I haven’t technically lied to her. If she asks me if I’m Kellan, of course I would tell her the truth. If she asks me if I have been stalking her… probably would lie.
I shake the thoughts away.
From the back seat I grab one of my worn jackets. I hold it out, and she slips it on without a word, the sleeves hanging long past her hands. The sight of her in my clothes makes my lungs seize.
I grab the blanket from the back seat and drape it over her legs, tucking it in gently. I check to make sure she has fastened her seatbelt; only then do I circle the truck and climb into the driver’s seat.
Her perfume lingers in the cab, mixing with the faint smell of leather and discarded Del Taco.
She leans forward and types her address into the glowing screen on my dash.
Finally, she speaks.
“Masked man, I’m hungry.”
I pull out my phone and open DoorDash, I type in her address. I hand it to her and pray to God she doesn’t swipe to the account tab.
She clicks on McDonald’s and fills the cart, handing my phone back to me.
Good girl.
I place the order and focus my eyes back on the road. I took off the goggles but left the mask to conceal my face.
She turns the radio on; I don’t say a word. If I do, I’ll ruin everything.
It’s a short drive and before I’m ready, we’re pulling up in front of her apartment. Her eyes catch mine, wide and uncertain.
I force myself to move first. I get out, round the truck and open her door. She slides down. She reaches for the jacket, starting to shrug it off, but I shake my head, wagging my finger slowly.
She blinks up at me, cheeks pink and obeys. Good girl.
She steps closer, arms beginning to lift like she’s preparing to say goodbye. I shake my head again, firmer this time. Her lips part, but she doesn’t argue—she just nods, accepting.
We fall into step by side, her soft frame brushing against mine as we walk toward the entrance to the apartment.
She leads me up the stairs, we walk past two doors, and we stop in front of number 17307. I take a mental note.
I pull my phone out, showing her the DoorDash screen, her food is on the way. She nods. I then open the contacts tab and hand her my phone.
She takes it and smiles while she fills in the contact info. She hands me my phone back and gives me a tight hug. My heart nearly explodes.
Reluctantly, I turn and start my descent down the apartment stairs.
The thought of her sleeping alone tonight after what we shared leaves my heart torn—pulled between the anonymity I insist on and the closeness I crave.