Lights out

Chapter 8Josh

Aly was getting in the car. I watched her slide into the passenger seat beside me, gun aimed at my middle, eyes trained on my mask while she slowly pulled the seatbelt across her chest and buckled in.

She reached out and blindly closed the door behind herself, as unwilling to look away from me as I was her, if for a different reason. I let out the breath I knew damn well I’d been holding – I didn’t want to so much as breathe, let alone move in case I scared her off.

There was a woman with a mask kink within arm's distance of me. A woman who had recently masturbated to one of my videos, and I couldn’t get that one brief image out of my head of her thrusting her vibrator into herself.

Was that how she liked it? Raw and rough? A hint of pain to heighten her pleasure?

Fuck, I wanted her. Here. Now. It was so tempting to turn and pin her to her seat so I could –

She shoved the barrel of the gun into my side. “Drive. And lord help us if we get pulled over on the way. Between your horror movie getup and my weapons, we’d probably make headline news.”

Right. About that.

I grabbed my phone off the dash. I wished I could talk to her, but I’d have to do it again soon as Josh, and I couldn’t risk her recognizing my voice. The fancy modulator I ordered was getting delivered tomorrow, and then I could be done with this typing nonsense.

I’m going to take the back way there, I typed. I put the directions into my map, so you know I’m not lying.

I showed her the text instead of sending it.

She cocked her head sideways and eyed the edge of my mask like she was considering ripping it off. “Or you could just show me who you are and drive my car like a normal person. I already know we’ve met before, and it can’t be easy to see in that thing.”

My heart thudded inside my chest. Aly was at the top of her class when she graduated nursing school. Maybe I should be worried that she was smart enough to figure out who I was, but it only excited me. It felt like a game we played, with me constantly staying three steps ahead of her to avoid getting caught. The challenge was thrilling. And despite her concern, I could see just fine in my mask. The black material covering the wide eye sockets was made from a kind of high-tech nanofiber that was opaque from one side and transparent from the other. It was no different than looking out of a pair of glasses.

I can see fine. And do you really want to ruin the fantasy? I typed, showing her the phone and praying she wanted this as much as I did.

She blew out a shaky breath and looked away, the gun slipping an inch, and I took her silence as confirmation.

A glance at the gun showed me her finger was nowhere near the trigger. Not that anything would happen if she pulled it. I’d replaced her bullets with blanks. I was horny, not suicidal. And yes, I pla

Her eyes were guarded when they came back to mine, but there was a hint of a flush in her cheeks that hadn’t been there before, driving the point home that Aly would rather have me masked and anonymous as well.

I buckled my seatbelt and put the car in reverse, using the rearview camera to guide me out of the parking space.

“You put my seat heater on for me,” she said.

I nodded. For whatever reason, empathy was starting to come easy for me with her. Watching her through the hospital cameras showed me a woman who would do anything to help others, even to the detriment of herself. I figured she must have been sore after being on her feet for so long, and even though the orthopedic shoes she wore looked comfortable, I was betting her legs and back still hurt.

She was probably hungry, too – I hadn’t seen her eat much in the past day and a half. Luckily, I had a solution for that. I put the car in drive but kept my foot on the brake.

Lifting my hands, I slowly rotated in my seat. The gun bumped over my abs as I turned her way, and her gaze drifted down like she felt it happen. I reached behind us and grabbed a small lunch bag from the rear seat.

“Woah, buddy,” she said, leaning away as I turned back around with it. “Is that a bomb or something?”

I almost forgot myself and swore. Why hadn’t I realized Aly might jump to a conclusion like that after the shift she’d had? It was a dumb mistake, and I wouldn’t make one like it again. I’d be better for her going forward. She deserved someone at the top of their game.

I shook my head and set the bag in my lap. Moving slowly so she wouldn’t freak out, I unzipped it and showed her the contents.

She frowned and leaned forward for a better look, glancing up at me afterward with one brow arched. “You brought me snacks?”

I nodded and put the bag on the center console for her.

She made no move to take it, her expression turning exasperated. “I’m not eating any of that. You could have drugged it.”

Fair point. I snagged the sandwich bag filled with apple slices. My gloves were thin enough that it was easy to lift one out. I tugged my mask away from my face just enough to get the slice inside it without revealing more than the edge of my jaw and slid the apple into my mouth.

I made a “See?” motion as I started to chew, but Aly was too busy staring at where my jaw was hidden again to pay much attention to my hands.

My mouth went dry. Did she feel it, too? This undeniable pull between us? I was trying to be a gentleman, had promised myself that tonight and this ride home was about reassuring her that she could trust me with her safety – after all, it was a big ask to get someone to agree to sex with a knife-wielding stranger – but if she kept looking at me like that, I didn’t know if I could keep myself in check for much longer.

She licked her lips as her eyes slid from my face to take in the rest of me. I went still in my seat, telling my dick not to react, but it had a mind of its own when it came to her, so there it went, shoving against the restriction of my jeans, demanding to be let out.

Aly took her sweet time looking me over. There wasn’t much on display – I wore jeans and a hoodie – but I’d left the sweatshirt unzipped, and Aly’s gaze went straight to the way my fitted Henley flattened against my stomach.

“Is that the shirt you wore in your latest video?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

I nodded.

She shook her head as if trying to clear her thoughts. Dirty thoughts? “Did you think you were being fu

I nodded vigorously this time, glad she couldn’t see my shit-eating grin.

She huffed out a breath and looked away, but not before I caught the edge of her lips tilting up.

A car horn honked behind us, and we both jumped.

Right. I was supposed to be driving Aly home, not contemplating whether or not she’d like to get ravaged in the back of her car.

I waved to the impatient person behind me and took my foot off the brake. They pulled into the open space I’d just vacated, and I slowed again, just long enough to tilt my phone away from Aly, kill the loop I’d placed on all the cameras on this level of the parking garage, and hit go on my map so she would know I wasn’t blowing smoke up her ass about following directions. That done, I headed toward the exit ramp while a soothing British woman’s voice told me where to go next.

The sound of crunching came from the passenger seat. I glanced over and saw Aly helping herself to the apple slices with one hand, the other still pointing the gun in my direction. A frisson of warmth wound through me at the sight. Why did it feel so good to care for her, even on such a micro level? Was it because I’d never had anyone to call my own before? Or was this some inborn instinct all men had that, up until now, was suppressed by the cocktail of prescription drugs I’d been on since puberty?

Either way, I wasn’t questioning it. Taking care of her felt good. It was clear to me from what I’d seen that someone needed to, and I’d be damned if I let another man do it. My roommate was a goddamn moron. Didn’t he realize what he’d had when he was with her? How was he foolish enough to let such a perfect creature slip through his fingers? How were all of her past partners equally blind? She should be wifed up by now, spoiled and cherished like the queen she was.

Men were idiots. That was the only explanation.

Aly finished the apples as I pulled out of the parking garage. She tugged the lunch bag toward her and started poking around in it. I’d packed a variety of other options: a squeezable yogurt, carrot sticks, an orange, and trail mix I made myself. There was even a water bottle in there to wash everything down.

“You first,” she said, passing the trail mix over.

I stopped at the end of the exit ramp and took the bag from her. Our fingers slid against each other.

Curse these fucking gloves and the need for them.

That was the first time we’d touched, and I hated that it hadn’t been skin-to-skin. I craved the feel of her against me, even if it was just a fleeting brush.

I hefted my phone and typed, You just want to get another look at my jaw.

“It’s a nice jaw,” she said, unapologetic. “Now quit stalling. I’m hungry.”

I set my phone down to keep from typing something potentially offensive about how hungry I was, too. For her. Then I scooped out a handful of the mix and turned away because I needed to pull the mask up a little further to manage this, and I didn’t want her to see more than I was ready for her to.

“Spoilsport,” she said as I shoved the trail mix into my mouth and tugged the mask back down.

I gave her a thumbs up as I chewed and then eased my foot off the brake. The snow was really coming down. I’d checked the weather several times over the past few hours, and the accumulation predictions kept climbing. Storm totals were hard to forecast in our area because cells habitually stalled over us and dumped more snow than expected. At this rate, I wouldn’t have been surprised if we had a foot on the ground by sun up.

Even though the plows were out, they couldn’t keep up, and the roads were shit. My Uber driver had a hell of a time getting me to the hospital earlier, and her vehicle was an SUV with four-wheel drive. Aly’s car was a small sedan, and it might not have had four-wheel, but at least it came with traction control. I hoped I didn’t need it as I pulled onto the slush-covered road.

“You’re go

I nodded to show I understood. Was I sorry for what I’d done? No, not at all, but I wouldn’t deny her right to be angry, and if there were a chance she’d forgive me for it, I’d find a million ways to apologize for upsetting her until she gave in.