Unmasked (Revealed #1) (4 page)

And the staring just now – what the fuck had that been about? I ran a hand jerkily through my hair, almost pulling out a handful in aggravation. We must have watched each other in complete silence for more than five minutes, which was not only odd, but really fucking unnerving. I hadn’t felt a reaction to a woman like this for years, if ever, and to make it more peculiar I didn’t even know anything about her. It was distinctly unsettling, and not a feeling that I particularly relished. Had she felt the connection too? Did I even want to know? No, actually, I did not need a romantic attachment, especially not with someone that had sparked such a visceral response in me. That would just be asking for trouble, and I was already way too busy at the moment to invite trouble into my life.

Raising both hands I rubbed them over my face to try and clear the fog that seemed to have descended on my sanity since the arrival of that woman in my home. Grunting irritably, I rolled my neck and briefly closed my eyes. God, I was tired. I’d literally had about three hours sleep in the last two days, but now that I knew that there was someone else in my house –
her
, a woman that I seemed to be inexplicably pulled towards – I couldn’t get my mind to move beyond the fact that she was in my spare bedroom just a few paces away. Was she in bed to warm up? Perhaps naked under the sheets, the cool material lying over her skin and tucked around her? Or maybe she was washing that long hair of hers in the shower?

Fuck
. With my mind on overdrive and full of temptingly teasing images I just knew that sleep was going to be near impossible.

Jerkily walking to the window, I began drawing the curtains shut when I eyed her rust bucket of a car currently collecting snow outside my house. I couldn’t believe she drove that thing. It was almost offensive for me to look at it, dumped there haphazardly by my front door. Shaking my head I blew out an irritated breath, almost sure that my driveway would be ruined where she’d repeatedly spun her bloody wheels. Tugging the curtains closed to hide the infuriating sight I walked to my bed and began peeling off my clothes.

Chucking my jacket, jumper, and T-shirt carelessly onto the chair I grimaced as I kicked off my snow trousers and jeans and looked down at the huge erection jutting out hopefully in the warmth of the room. Fuck it. I’d been in this state pretty much ever since I’d seen her downstairs. In fact, if she hadn’t turned and left to go and cook earlier, she would have seen the arrival of my arousal for herself, because my thin pyjama bottoms certainly hadn’t managed to conceal it a great deal when it had first sprung to attention. My cock seemed just as affected by this woman as my mind was. The only saving grace was that at least with my jeans and snow trousers on she wouldn’t have been aware of my rock hard excitement. At least I hoped she wouldn’t have noticed.

Hissing air between my teeth, I watched as my cock jerked about optimistically, looking enflamed and needy. Sighing heavily, I shook my head. The bloody thing seemed to have a mind of its own sometimes. Sleep was going to be impossible in this state, so I turned and made my way into my en-suite instead. I always felt drowsier post orgasm, so perhaps if I worked off the tension I’d be able to sleep afterwards.

Turning on the shower I cranked up the temperature and stepped under the warming jets with a groan of satisfaction as the hot water hit my tired muscles. After briefly pausing to allow the spray to run over my body, I placed my left hand on the tiled wall and leant forwards a little so I could look down at myself. Using my right hand to loosely grip the base of my throbbing shaft, I groaned as the weight settled in my palm, jerking against my hand. Closing my fist I drew my hand up to the top of my cock and let out a hiss at just how solid it was. Fuck, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this turned on.

My eyes rolled shut for a second as I absorbed the feeling, before opening them to watch as I repeated the movement, this time a little faster. I was careful not to go too quick, because the way I felt now, it wouldn’t take long for me to come, and I at least wanted to enjoy this for a minute or so before I blew my load.

With the next pump of my fist, I watched under heavy-lidded eyes as a drop of pre-come emerged from the tip. I ran my thumb across it, groaning at the sensation across the sensitive slit. With visions of that beautiful girl now rooted in my head, I began to move my hand quicker, tightening my hold until I was pumping like a man possessed. Christ, that felt so good.

Not as good as it would feel if her hands were wrapped around me, though. Or perhaps her sarcastic little mouth. Oh God. A long, throaty groan left my lips. What I wouldn’t give to have her kneeling in front of me right now, taking me deep in her mouth as she worked me to climax with her hot tongue.

My body shuddered at the thought, coming with such explosive force that the first pulse of come hit the shower wall in front of me. Keeping my hand moving, my orgasm continued for an absolute age, each pump of my wrist causing another hot spurt to slide out until both the wall and my fist were covered, my cock was half hard, and my head hung in exhaustion.

Panting like I’d run a marathon, I rinsed my hands and rested them on the shower wall as I tipped my head back and let the jets wash over my face and tumble down my body. If I could sleep now, then hopefully the snow would be gone when I woke and that woman could leave. Wincing, I realised that I really should use her name instead of ‘her’ or ‘that woman’.
Allie
. Once the snow had cleared,
Allie
could leave.

Grinning down at my satisfied cock I smiled smugly. That had been a monster orgasm. If coming with that much volatility didn’t help me get to sleep, then nothing would.

FOUR

Allie

I hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

But now, as I blinked blearily and began to come back to consciousness, it was quite obvious that I had. My senses zeroed in on a steady ticking noise coming from somewhere in the room, which was strange because I didn’t have a clock in my bedroom. Not a proper ticking clock, anyway. I had a bedside radio alarm, but that was digital, and the only noise I ever heard from it was the annoying alarm telling me to wake up. Frowning in confusion I rubbed at my sticky eyes before trying to make sense of where the heck I was.

Looking around, I saw the source of the ticking: a small, wooden clock on top of a chest of drawers, both of which looked to be antique – and completely unfamiliar. My clothes were heaped on and around the radiator, no change from the norm there, because I was habitually messy. But that was not my radiator, and this was definitely not my room.

Where on earth was I?

My eyes moved to the bedside table and the large mug sitting beside me, several dribbles of chocolate dried on its side, and that’s when I finally woke up properly and remembered.

The job for Sarah, the sudden snow which had rendered my car useless, and Mr Magnificent and Moody.

Of course. Picturing him again in all his glory I fell back on my pillows with a loud groan. I was in his house because he had dragged me here, muttering things about not having my death on his conscience. Not that I should really complain; he’d provided me with the most delicious hot chocolate I’d ever tasted and a bed so comfy that I had gone off like a log. My plan had just been to warm myself up under the covers while my clothes dried, but obviously tiredness had overtaken my senses because as I glanced at the window it definitely seemed to be light outside.

Looking back at the clock in confusion I saw that it read eight o’clock. Eight p.m., or eight a.m.? I hadn’t slept the entire night, had I? It had been late afternoon by the time I’d finished the cooking and run to my car, so surely I’d just slept for two hours. Although if that were the case, I would have expected it to still be dark outside. In a sudden panic I quickly climbed from the cosy covers and ran to the window, hoping for two things: firstly, that it was still the same day, and secondly, that the snow would have melted.

Both of my hopes were dashed the second I pulled back the plush curtain. It was definitely light, which indicated that it was morning, and unfortunately, the snow was still falling outside the window and lying in thick blankets around the garden. It was so dense that apart from the occasional dark tree branch here and there, I could barely see any colour other than white. Grimacing, I ran my hands through my hair in aggravation. What was this, a new ice age? I couldn’t remember a winter where it had snowed in England like this.

Considering I’d just spent the night in a strange house, in a strange bed, I must have slept incredibly well, because apart from my dismay at being trapped, I actually felt rather good. Physically speaking, anyway. Mentally, I was dreading having to see the house owner again, and deal with the strange attraction he had sparked in me. Even briefly considering it made my stomach jitter nervously. Sighing heavily, I dressed in yesterday’s clothes, which due to my lack of proper unfolding last night, were still damp, and then prepared to head downstairs.

Pulling open my bedroom door I tentatively stuck my head into the corridor and glanced around the unfamiliar space. Seeing as I’d been draped upside down over a firm shoulder during my ‘tour’ of the house yesterday, I had no idea which way to go, but as I looked around, the sight of my handbag and laptop case leaning next to the door caught my attention. Raising my eyebrows, I moved them into my room and quickly checked the contents. All was still as I’d left it, so presumably Mr House Owner had merely grabbed them from my car to stop them getting frozen, which for someone with a seemingly permanent scowl, was really rather thoughtful.

Heading back out of my room I looked both ways and still had no clue which way to go, because the corridor stretched out in both directions, seeming to turn corners at either end. Bugger. Pulling in a nervous breath I contemplated what to do, but then smiled. That gulp of air had given me the answer I needed, because I had gotten a definite whiff of brewing coffee coming from my left side. Turning in the direction of the delicious aroma I followed the hallway, turned a corner, and discovered a wide landing and the large, curved staircase I recognised from yesterday.

Thank goodness for caffeine – not only did it start my days with a buzz, but it had now saved me from getting lost in the huge house’s maze-like corridors. Smiling to myself I began to trot down the stairs, feeling far more positive about my day. I might be snowed in somewhere in the English hills with a godlike (but miserable) man, but from the smell of it there was at least some decent coffee in the house, so all was right with the world.

Entering the kitchen I drew to a stop when I found the mystery man sitting at the counter with a mug of coffee in one hand and his gaze focused on an iPad. I had expected the kitchen to be empty, and his presence had completely thrown me. Again. He didn’t look over at me, so I took a quick moment to assess him; he was wearing a pair of grey trousers, army type with pockets on the sides of the thighs, and a beige woollen jumper. Simple clothes, but he somehow made them look almost indecently good. For some reason, as my gaze trailed down his body I ended up focused on his feet. They were bare, and surely cold given the weather outside, but I just couldn’t help but stare at them. I didn’t have a foot fetish or anything, but impossibly they were just as perfect as the rest of him. Was anything lacking about this man?

Beyond my control, my brain and body were most definitely reacting to him again, and I’d only been in the flipping room for less than a minute. Even without any caffeine in my system my awareness had already sprung to seemingly impossible levels as my heart quickened, skin heated, and nerves tingled. What was this crazy reaction he seemed to cause? I’d never felt anything like it before, and it was completely beyond my comprehension that a man could affect me so instantaneously. But this man did. And I
still
didn’t know his name. I made a conscious decision to ask him this morning once I was feeling braver.

Drawing myself to my full height I pulled in a calming breath and mentally set my plan: ignore his gorgeousness and act nonchalant. Not that it had worked yesterday, but still, it was worth a shot.

‘Morning,’ I murmured, already feeling awkward, decidedly out of place, and not nonchalant at all.

Finally turning his head, his steely eyes grazed over my appearance and seemed to linger on my lips for way longer than necessary, which, for some reason, made me instinctively lick them. His eyes narrowed, and then blinking twice, he raised his gaze, his eyes now hooded and unreadable.

‘Apparently the snow is set in for at least a week,’ he murmured, his eyes snapping away as he stared out of the huge windows. So no ‘good morning’ or niceties then, just ploughing in with the bad news. And what bad news it was. My face fell, along with my heart.

‘A week?’ I squeaked, ‘I can’t be stuck here, it’s Christmas soon! Can’t you drive me out?’ Besides the fact that Christmas was my favourite time of year and my mum would kill me if I missed it, the thought of being stuck here all week trying to battle my crazy responses was almost enough to send me into a fit of hysterical tears.

‘It isn’t exactly my dream situation either,’ he replied bluntly, draining his mug and standing up to put it in the sink. ‘You better make yourself at home because there’s no way any car is getting though these country lanes for a while, sweetheart.’ I was about to complain about his casual endearment, which had sounded far nicer to my ears that it should have, and was really way too informal given our situation, but he suddenly struck me silent by striding across the room and encroaching right into my personal space.

And I mean
right
into my space. God, he was standing really,
really
close. So close, in fact, that if I jutted my head forwards ever so slightly I’d be able to rub my chin on his chest.

What was he doing this close? I might be attracted to him, but it certainly didn’t seem to be reciprocated by him; he’d been nothing but irritable and brusque with me since we’d met, so suddenly placing himself this close to me didn’t make any sense at all. The only benefit to this new positioning was that I finally got to see what colour his dark eyes were – a navy blue with a slightly lighter centre and just a few flecks of green and hazel around the pupil.