9. Mona
“Where do you think you were going, huh?” he asks me sweetly, securing his hands on my hips. “Can’t just use me and run away.”
I scoff, a giggle slipping past my lips. “I don’t think it was me using you during that.”
I can’t see behind his mask, but I know he’s smirking.
“And you loved it. Craved it. Wanted it even harder and dirtier. Admit it.”
Nibbling on my bottom lip, I drop my face into my hands, my blush feeling hot enough that I’m likely cherry-red. “Yeah, I did and do.” My words are muffled against my palms.
His abs flex as he gently grabs my wrists, taking away my shield. “No hiding from me, baby. There’s no judgment here.”
Nothing can ever possibly compare to that otherworldly experience. And that was just our first time really together. Can it get better than that? Grittier? I want it to.
“Open your eyes,” he whispers between us.
I begrudgingly meet his mask. Our hands are intertwined between our bare chests, and I’ve never felt more vulnerable and raw than I do right now.
“Talk to me.”
I swallow hard, emotion bubbling up in my throat like hot poison. What the hell is wrong with me? That was the best sex I’d ever had in my life, hands down, and now I’m fighting back tears.
“Hey.” He sucks in a quick breath, his spine straightening as much as physically possible in the position we’re in. All of a sudden, his hand is around me, and he spins us one hundred eighty degrees so he’s leaning back against the bookshelves. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I—” It’s as if sharp claws are dragging down my neck, slicing open my esophagus. And I can’t breathe.
Suddenly, he pulls me to him, his hand cradling the back of my head and tucking me into the crook of his neck. Up and down, his fingers roll across my back, his other arm a gentle bar around my waist. I couldn’t escape this grasp even if I wanted to.
My arms are folded between us, and I’m completely encased in his embrace. A swell of emotion grows in my chest, my eyes burning. I don’t want to cry right now, but apparently, that’s just another thing out of my control.
“Let it out, Mona,” he coos.
I realize I just sobbed heavily into him, and tears have burst down my face, dropping onto him.
“I’ve got you.”
Slowly, he rocks me back and forth, and I hate to admit that it’s the safest I’ve ever fucking felt.
His heart beat pulses against my chest, my breathing gradually syncing up with his as my nervous system finally starts to calm.
Minutes pass by as he clings to me, scared that I might bolt, but the truth is, he’s the only thing holding me together right now.
I didn’t realize how much of my past I had repressed, buried deep down in order for me to wake up and keep going.
I didn’t realize that my body had been in fight-or-flight mode for so long, and this brief glimpse at reprieve feels like falling out of a plane without a parachute.
The comedown is intense and so overwhelming.
But I wouldn’t even understand what this felt like if it wasn’t for him.
Somehow, in the heart of a haunted house, I’ve found a pocket, a safe haven where my guards can fall.
I sink into his hold, melting against his body until I’m unsure where I stop and he begins. We stay like this, wrapped in each other, neither of us making a move to pull away. There’s nowhere else I'd rather be.
My eyes flutter open, landing on the smooth skin of his neck, a place I’ve never touched. It dawns on me that I don’t know how he kisses, how his lips feel when pressed against mine. I’ve been properly educated on how they feel against my core.
Does his neck taste salty from the workout we just did? Will goose bumps erupt if I run my tongue up to his ear? Does he like his hair played with, his head scratched, his skin brushed?
My hand’s already moving, sinking into the back of his hair. He sucks in a breath as I interlock my fingers with his blond waves. The man must use conditioner to have hair this soft, my God.
With each passing second, I’m feeling more like myself, less like I’ve been skinned alive. A funny thought passes through my mind, and I can’t help but let it out.
“You know … I’m not usually into blond guys,” I tease him. “But you’ve changed my mind.”
A giant laugh bubbles out of him, my comment clearly catching him off guard. Hearing his amusement and feeling it against my skin have me blushing, knowing that I’m the cause.
Gently, with his help, I sit upright, still straddling his lap, my knees on the floor at his sides. His mask tips up, and his eyes meet mine.
“I’ve changed your mind, huh?”
A soft smile lifts my lips. “So far.”
“Hmm,” he hums. “Just wait. One day, you’re going to agree to marry this blond man.”
Lifting my hand, I boop his nose. “With the mask or without?”
He chuckles. “Your preference.”
The image appears in my mind. Him dressed up in a suit with this purple mask on his face.
Me walking toward him. His hands crossed in front of him, tears in the eyes that I can’t see.
My brain tries to create his face, knowing what his hair and eyes look like, but all I can conjure is a blurry blob atop a tall, hot body.
But in all honesty, I’d agree to marry him regardless of what his face ends up looking like. Is it wild to say that when I haven’t seen him without the mask or know who he is? Yeah, probably. But I don’t care.
“I think …” I trail off, my gaze falling to my now-fidgeting fingers. My voice is barely audible. “I think you’re the only person who’s ever truly cared about me.”
The words sit between us, hovering in the air, along with my stomach that feels like it’s going to plummet off a cliff.
“Mona.” He breathes my name in deeply, until I invade every cell, powering his next words, ones I don’t expect. “I’m sorry that the people who should’ve shown you love showed you how cruel the world could be. I’m sorry that you had to navigate the last twenty-four years by yourself.”
The tears are back, burning my eyes.
“But you’ll never be alone again.”
His hand releases my fingers and twitches toward his mask, and my heart flutters at the thought of finally seeing his face.
But he stops a few inches away from it, returning his hand to my side.
It was instinctual, like he wanted to remove all barriers between us, but stopped himself at the last second, as if he’s remembering the reason why he hasn’t shown his face thus far.
“If I had found you sooner—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You’ve done more for me than anyone ever has. And if it wasn’t for my surviving all these years, bringing me here, I might not have ever met you.”
Sliding his hand around the curve of my jaw, he shakes his head. “You have no idea what I would do for you, Mona. You want them to suffer? I’ll find them and make them pay.”
My heart swells, nerves building in my throat. “No. I closed that chapter of my life a long time ago. They don’t want to find me, and I don’t want to find them.”
His energy has shifted, angrier on my behalf. “I hate the idea of anyone treating you poorly. I dare someone to do it now. I’ll have their job, their house. I’ll ruin their fucking lives.”
“Oh, yeah?” I scoff, loving his fantasy world. “So powerful.”
He freezes mid-inhale, and my blood runs cold that I’ve possibly upset him.
Sitting up taller, he closes the distance between our faces until barely an inch remains. “Doubting me?”
I shake my head side to side. “I know you like me and would do everything in your power to keep me safe but—”
“Like getting rid of Bryce because he touched what’s mine?”
“What?” I’m dumbfounded. Why would he say that? Oh my God. “That’s why he hasn’t been to work?”
His shoulders broaden with pride. “Clearly, he was trying to take advantage of his subordinate. That was unprofessional and against the guidelines.”
I narrow my eyes at him, waiting for him to tell me he’s kidding.
But his words echo in my mind. “I don’t bluff when it comes to you, Mona. But I might beg.”
“You’re serious.”
“You know who I am at my core, how I care for my person.
But this is only the beginning. I intend, with every fiber of my being, to make damn sure you never worry again.
Not about where you're sleeping, when your next check is coming, or what your next meal will be. I have the capabilities of giving you the world, Mona, puppeting reality to however you desire.”
“Who—” I pause, studying my masked man in a whole new light. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m yours. That’s all that matters. Not my name. Not my family—who’ll you’ll meet soon enough. And not what I do. When the mask comes off, I’ll tell you everything.”
“Which is when?” I murmur, my gaze skating down from the shiny purple horns of the mask to the stitched leather seams and the creepy mouth. “I want to see you.”
Peering through the mesh over his eyes, I can almost see them clearly in this light. They’re golden brown, and even through the thin fabric, I can see the intensity in his gaze. Overwhelming. Possessive. Feral. Loving. All wrapped up into one ardent stare and aimed right at me.
“Very soon. I promise.” Gentle fingers stroke my sides calmly. “Trust me, the mask’s in place for a reason.” He pauses, like there’s a silent sentence I can’t hear. “Do you trust me?”
Without a beat of hesitation, I nod. “Yeah, I do trust you. Because I’m a gullible, vulnerable girl who’s falling for her masked stalker.”
Squeezing my hips, he jerks me upward, and I giggle as he tickles my sides.
“Falling for me, huh? I knew it. You act all tough and bratty, but you’re secretly the biggest softy.”
I wish I had my fake knife right now because I’d hold it to his throat, but it’s too far away. So, instead of resorting to violence, I tell him the truth. “Only for you.”
“Good,” he murmurs. “Now do me a favor and close your eyes.”
I seal them shut, wondering what he has up his sleeve. But he doesn’t leave me long to guess.
Warm lips press onto mine, soft and tender. Time freezes around us. My hands cup his face, feeling how high he lifted the mask, just enough to give me the connection I was secretly craving.
I don’t know how he knew, how he read me so easily. But then again, he’s aware of things about my youth that I hadn’t shared with him yet. I think the information he knows about me is endless, nothing left but inner thoughts for him to uncover.
The tip of his tongue parts my lips, and I grant him access immediately. But he doesn’t plunge it into my mouth. He strokes it against mine softly, tenderly. Taking his time and savoring every second, like he’s committing it all to memory.
We melt into one another, care and love in each movement, and I’m never going to get enough. I want this, him, forever. I don’t care what his face looks like or who he is. He’s mine, and I’m his.
Slowly, he pulls away, securing the mask over his face as I open my eyes, only catching the tiniest glimpse of his chin.
He pats my side, signaling me to move. “Come on. Let’s go to your room.”
My heart sinks. “Are you going to leave?”
“Are you going to peek?” he retorts, a smile audible in his voice.
If it means he stays, no. Which is what I tell him as he helps me up, along with himself. I gather my clothes, quickly redressing. And I can’t help but giggle at the fake red blood decorating my skin and my clothes, transferred from him.
Once we’re dressed, we blow the candles out and head to my room. My anxiety spikes, but he threads his fingers in mine as he leads me down the dark hallway. It’s empty.
“After you,” he murmurs, releasing the door with the hidden button.
I step inside, and he follows me in, shutting the door behind us.
“Can I steal a makeup wipe or twelve?” He laughs, looking down at the red smeared across his skin.
I nod, grabbing the pack from one of the drawers of my nightstand. “Come here.”
I wipe the fake blood up, and it feels mundane and natural. Everything with him feels like home, like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
He tells me that he’ll be out of town and traveling for a week for work, but he’ll be watching and texting me constantly, other than when he’s in important meetings.
He also offers to put me in a hotel while he’s gone if I don’t want to be here with the spirit that is angry at me.
But I assure him that I’ll be fine, that half of this is likely my imagination, and even if it’s not, I can handle a little ghost.
When he gets back, it’ll be the opening weekend here, which means I’ll also be busier than ever. But we’ll figure out times to see one another, even if we have to have a few phone dates.
After we both clean up, I change into some pajamas, and he strips to his boxers and his mask. Quite a sight as his massive body crawls into my bed. I quickly join him and curl up into his side, my hand on his chest and his arm around my waist.
This is all I’ve ever wanted—someone to call mine, someone to call home. There are still so many unanswered questions between us and uncertainties we have to navigate. But we’ll do it together.