🎃 The Masked Stranger | Chapter Five: No More Hiding

 🎃 The Masked Stranger | Chapter Five: No More Hiding

It's time for the Halloween finale of The Masked Stranger, part of the Wicked Little Treats collection!

Delaney has spent the night with a mysterious man who knows far more about her than he's willing to admit. The chemistry is undeniable, but there's still one question he refuses to answer.

Who is hiding behind that mask?

Tonight, the secrets finally come out, and Delaney discovers that sometimes the person you've been looking for has been right in front of you all along.

🔥 Expect a surprising reveal, plenty of chemistry, a little more spice, and a happily ever after!

Chapter Five

No More Hiding

Adrian

Delaney's still laughing when she settles against me, her cheek resting on my chest. I pull the throw over her shoulder and press a kiss to the top of her head.

I should probably be thinking about getting dressed. The party's still going on downstairs, and someone will eventually notice we've disappeared. Instead, I'm trying to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to tell Delaney Brooks that the man she's spent the evening with is the same guy who can barely string together two sentences around her.

I've wanted her for six months. Six months of watching her laugh with our friends, listening to her stories, and wishing I had the nerve to ask her out.

Tonight, I finally found that nerve. Unfortunately, it came with a mask.

"You're awfully quiet," she says.

"Just thinking."

"About how we nearly destroyed an expensive sofa?"

I laugh. "Among other things."

She props herself up on one elbow, studying me. "Can I ask you something?"

"I have a feeling you're going to, regardless."

"Look at you. Getting brave." She grins, then reaches toward my mask. "Why won't you tell me who you are?"

I catch her hand gently before she can lift it. Her smile fades. "Seriously?"

I release her wrist. "I'm sorry."

"Are you married?"

"What? No, I already told you that."

"Engaged? Secret girlfriend? Complicated situationship?"

"I'm single, Delaney."

"Then what's the problem?"

I look at her, knowing I've run out of excuses. "You already know me."

She sits up, pulling the throw around herself. "What?"

"We've met before. Several times, actually."

Her eyes narrow. "Are we friends?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?" She laughs. "That's not reassuring."

I sit up beside her, suddenly wishing I'd put my shirt back on. "I didn't plan for tonight to go this far," I admit. "I wanted to talk to you without getting nervous and making an idiot of myself. Then you kissed me, and I didn't want it to end."

"You asked to kiss me."

"After you spent half the evening flirting with me."

"Okay, valid point." She studies me. "So who are you?"

I take a breath and reach for my mask. "Whatever happens, I need you to know tonight wasn't a game to me."

"Okay."

"And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Then stop apologizing and take off the damn mask."

I take a breath, hoping I'm not about to ruin everything, and slowly pull it off.

Delaney stares at me.

Her mouth falls open. "Oh my God."

"Hi, Delaney."

"Adrian?" She blinks, looking me over as though she's trying to reconcile the man sitting in front of her with the one she's known for months. "Adrian Blackwell?"

"Surprise?"

"Natalie's quiet friend Adrian? The guy who barely talks at game night?"

"Sometimes I talk."

"About the weather!"

"Occasionally sports."

She covers her mouth, but I can see the smile forming behind her hand. Then it disappears. "Wait. You knew who I was this entire time?"

"Yes."

"And you let me spend all night trying to figure it out?"

I nod. "I should've told you."

"Before we came upstairs, Adrian."

"I know. You're right."

She looks away, and I hate that I've put that expression on her face.

"I wanted you to like me," I admit. "Not the guy who stands in the corner at parties because he never knows what to say. Just me, without all the awkwardness."

She looks back at me. "Which one is the real you?"

"Both." I set the mask on the table. "I'm quiet around people I don't know well. But when I'm comfortable with someone, I'm different."

"And you're comfortable with me?"

"More than anyone."

Her expression softens. "Then why have you spent six months barely talking to me?"

I blink. "How did you know it was six months?"

"Adrian." She gives me a look. "I've been trying to get you to ask me out since Natalie's birthday dinner."

I stare at her. "You have?"

"Yes!"

"I thought you were just being friendly."

"I was flirting, you oblivious man!"

I start laughing, mostly because I can't believe we've both been this ridiculous.

She shakes her head, but she's smiling now. "You're kind of an idiot."

"I've been called worse."

"By me?"

"Not yet."

She laughs and moves closer. "I'm still annoyed you didn't tell me."

"I understand."

"And we're going to talk about that again."

"Whenever you want."

She rests her hands against my chest. "But for the record, I happen to like quiet guys."

I smile.

"And apparently," she continues, "I really like whatever other personality you've been hiding."

"That's not another personality."

"No?" She raises an eyebrow. "Because the Adrian I know has never called me a good girl."

My face gets hot.

Her mouth falls open. "Oh my God. You're blushing!"

"Delaney."

"This is adorable."

I groan, dropping my head.

She laughs and slips her arms around my neck. "Hey."

I look at her.

"Next time you want to kiss me, you can just ask."

I brush my thumb along her cheek. "Can I kiss you?"

She smiles. "Absolutely."

I kiss her without a mask between us, and somehow it feels more intimate than anything we've done tonight. Her hands slide into my hair, and she pulls me closer, smiling against my mouth.

When she finally draws back, her expression turns mischievous. "So, Adrian Blackwell."

"Yeah?"

"Does that confident guy from earlier make another appearance, or was he strictly a Halloween special?"

I laugh, my arms wrapping around her waist. "He's still here."

"Good." She kisses me again. "Because I wasn't finished with him."

I brush my lips against hers.

"Neither was I."

She doesn't go back to kissing me. She goes lower. Down my chest, unhurried, mouth warm against my sternum, then my stomach, and I have to look at the ceiling and remind myself how breathing works. Her hair drags across my ribs. Her hand finds my cock.

"You're going to have to tell me if—"

"Adrian." She looks up. "Stop narrating."

"Right."

My brain goes offline for a second. Then her mouth replaces her hand. The noise I make next is not one I've ever made in front of another person before. She's good at this in an almost rude way. She knows it, too. Takes her time, hums a little, and glances up to watch what it's doing to me. I get a hand in her hair, and she makes an approving sound around me, and my hips lift off the cushion.

"Delaney."

She pulls off just enough to talk. "Yeah?"

"Come here."

"Already?"

"I'm going to be no use in about thirty seconds."

She laughs and sits back up, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb, and I'm struck all over again by the fact that this is the woman who's been sitting three feet away from me at game nights for six months.

"Was there another one?" she asks.

"Another what?"

"Condom."

"Right. Yes. In my pants."

She finds the wallet, shakes her head at me, and rolls it on herself, which is somehow more mortifying and better than doing it myself. Then she plants a knee on the sofa either side of my hips and looks down at me.

"Comfortable?"

"Terrified."

"That's not a no."

She sinks down onto me, and I stop being able to form sentences. It's slower than before and deeper, and she does it in stages, watching my face the whole time. By the time she's all the way seated, my hands are on her hips like she's the only solid thing in the room.

"Okay?" she asks, a bit breathless herself.

"Yeah."

"Good." She starts to move. "Because I've thought about this."

"You have?"

"Mm. At game night. While you were losing at cards."

"I'm always losing at cards."

"Because you're watching me instead of your hand."

She's right, and she knows she's right. I slide my hand up her spine and pull her down so I can kiss her, and it changes the angle. She groans into my mouth and stops being smug.

She's in charge for a while, and she's good at it. Her hand braced on the back of the sofa, setting the pace, hair falling in her face. And I get to watch all of it. Her mouth open. The flush climbing her throat. The way she keeps looking at me like she's checking to make sure  I'm still there.

"Adrian—"

"Yeah."

"Don't get quiet on me now."

So I don't. I tell her she's beautiful, and that she's going to be the death of me, and a couple of things I'd be embarrassed about if she weren't currently proving she wants them. Her rhythm goes uneven.

"That's better," she says, ragged.

Then her knee slips on the cushion and she laughs and loses the whole rhythm, and we have to stop, and I catch her before she falls and she drops her forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard.

"Don't laugh," she says.

"I'm not laughing."

"You're shaking."

"That's the laughing."

She kisses me, still grinning, and moves again. My cock goes deeper at this angle, and the grin comes off her face.

Something in me tips over.

I get both hands on her hips and take over the rhythm. Pushing and pulling her body back and forth on top of me, finding just the right angle that makes her breath catch. It works for both of us; her hands brace on my chest, her hair brushing my skin. I can feel how close she is and how hard she's trying to hold it.

"Don't," I say. "Don't hold it."

Her head drops.

"Come for me." My voice comes out rougher than I've ever heard it. "That's it — good girl."

She does. Her whole body tightens, and she says my name like it's been dragged out of her. And it's the best thing that's happened to me in six months. I keep moving us through it right up until I can't.

Then it's just her hips and my hands and no rhythm at all. I come with my head tipped back and her name in my mouth.

She collapses onto my chest. I get my arms around her before she can slide off, and we lie there like that, both of us wrecked, her heart going against mine.

By the time we finally get dressed, the party downstairs has started winding down.

Delaney finds her heels beneath the sofa while I retrieve my tie from the floor. She watches me button my shirt, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing."

"Delaney."

"I'm just thinking."

"About?"

"How many game nights I've wasted sitting across from you when we could've been doing something considerably more interesting."

I laugh. "You could've asked me out."

"I could've. But watching you turn red every time I talked to you was entertaining."

"You're terrible."

"You like me."

"Unfortunately."

She gasps, pressing a hand to her chest. "Unfortunately?"

I pull her close and kiss her. "Very unfortunately."

She laughs against my mouth before reaching past me for the mask on the table. "You're keeping this, right?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Should I?"

She slips it into my jacket pocket. "Absolutely."

"Any particular reason?"

She smiles. "Because now that I know who's behind it, I might want you to wear it again."

I shake my head, laughing. "You're impossible."

"And yet you've been crushing on me for six months."

"Longest six months of my life."

After we’re dressed, she takes my hand and heads for the door. "Come on, mystery man. You've got a proper date to plan."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." She glances over her shoulder, smiling. "But tonight's not over yet."

For once, I don't have to wonder whether she's flirting with me.

And I definitely don't need a mask to know what to do about it.

The End