Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
My breath catches as her fingers dance lower. “You mean you want to . . . ?”
“Oh yes,” she purrs, pushing me onto my back and straddling my hips. “I want to explore every inch of you, now that I can put a face to all those delicious messages.”
I groan as she grinds against me, already feeling myself hardening again. “God, you’re incredible,” I breathe, running my hands up her thighs.
She leans down, her lips brushing my ear, and then freezes. Pulling back, she says, “Wait. How? How did you know BlackAsChlo was me? Or that I was her?”
Shit. Shit!
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chloe
What the hell is going on right now? I just had the best sex of my life, blindfolded, only to discover that the mystery man is actually Jack! Jack rocked my world in ways I didn’t think were possible, and as I try to process what just happened, I also feel sick.
How did he know that I was BlackAsChlo? Did he know all along? Was this some crazy coincidence? Or . . .
“Did you see my face when I was filming? I know I got careless one night and—” I look up into his eyes. “Did you realize it was me then?”
Jack’s eyes widen. He runs a hand through his tousled hair, taking a deep breath before answering. “I . . . I did see your face that night,” he admits, his voice low and husky. “But I wasn’t sure at first. I thought maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.”
“And that’s when you became a subscriber. To see for yourself?”
Jack nods slowly, guilt flashing across his face. “I couldn’t believe it might actually be you. I had to know for sure.”
My stomach churns. “So you’ve known this whole time? Every conversation we’ve had since then, every time we hung out . . . you knew?”
He reaches for my hand, but I pull away. “I’m sorry, I should have said something sooner. You have every right to be mad.”
I should be. I should be furious, right? But why am I not?
I close my eyes, trying to sort through the tangle of emotions swirling inside me. Anger, betrayal, confusion . . . but also a strange sense of relief. And underneath it all, a lingering spark of desire that I can’t quite extinguish.
“I don’t know how to feel,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “Part of me wants to scream at you, but another part . . .”
Jack moves closer, his presence both comforting and unsettling. “Another part what?” he prompts.
I look up at him, really seeing him for the first time. Not just sweet Jack. But sexy as hell, dominant Jack. The man who just gave me earth-shattering pleasure. The person who’s known my deepest secret for weeks.
“Another part of me is glad it’s you,” I confess, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “I was torn between you—Jack, and WinterWatcher.”
“Torn how?”
“Between good and bad,” I admit. I take a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. “You were the safe choice, the sweet guy that rescues kittens from trees and shovels my neighbor’s walkway. But WinterWatcher . . . he represented everything exciting and forbidden. I never thought they could be the same person.”
He smiles softly, a hint of that dominant energy flickering in his eyes. “And now that you know they are?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, my heart racing. “It’s like two worlds colliding. I’m scared, excited, confused . . . everything at once.”
Jack reaches out, his fingers gently brushing my cheek.
I lean into his touch, despite my better judgment. “But why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why go through with this?” I gesture vaguely at the rumpled sheets, the lingering scent of our passion still heavy in the air.
“Being a masked man was a fantasy of yours,” he reminds me. “My goal,” he lifts the red blindfold and dangles it in front of me, “is to grant you every single fantasy you have.”
His words hang in the air between us, heavy with implication. I search his face, looking for any sign of deception, but all I see is sincerity and desire. My breath catches in my throat as I realize the full weight of what he’s offering.
“Every fantasy?” I whisper, my voice cracking slightly. His proximity is addictive, and I find myself leaning toward him almost unconsciously, never wanting this to end.
Jack nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “Every single one,” he confirms, his voice low and husky. “I’ve seen your videos, Chloe. I know what you like, what you crave. And I want to give it all to you.”
My heart races as I process his words. The rational part of my brain screams that I should be angry, that I should feel violated. But the part of me that craves excitement, that yearns for the forbidden, is thrumming with hunger.