Page 22 of Unmasking Her Shadow

When I see the proof he sends me, I slap my hand over my mouth to muffle my shriek of horror and fumble my phone, almost dropping it. I manage a weak smile to a passing client and coworker.

“What the hell, Shadow?” I hiss under my breath and study the pictures again to make sure I’m not losing my ever-loving mind. Nope, not hallucinating. Xan, Tyler, Cole, Garret, and Nathan, five of my most recent boyfriends, are each tied to a chair and blindfolded. Five guys. Really? Am I a slut? No. Not important right now. I can’t seem to get air into my lungs. My stalker is a fucking psychopath. I mean, come on, the stalking should have been the first red flag, but my demon pussy ignored it and just saw big, glorious O’s.

With trembling fingers, I type out a reply.

Hidden_Embers: Are you crazy? Let them go! If you think this solves anything, you’re wrong. You could easily be one of them and using a tripod and a timer on your camera to fool me.

Phantom_Shadow: I got you. Stay tuned.

Hidden_Embers: What do you mean, stay tuned?

Nothing

Hidden_Embers: Shadow! Please don’t hurt them. I take it back. I don’t care who you are.

Nothing.

Hey Emily, I found out where your boyfriend is. Where you ask? Oh, my stalker kidnapped him! Shit! What do I do? I turn to run away but remember someone is in there waiting on me, and I throw a mini tantrum, shaking my fists and screaming in my mind. Taking a shaky breath, I open the door and step inside. One thing at a time. I jot down a mental checklist. Number One-do my job. Number Two-make sure my stalker doesn’t murder my ex-boyfriends…somehow.

The sound of the door has my client lifting her head.

“Everything okay, Red?” The familiar voice smoothing.

It’s Kioni. Calmness blankets in at her presence. “Yeah, I’m fine. The guy I’m…umm seeing is sort of…he did something bad,” I stutter.

She’s a police officer. If I slip up and say something I shouldn’t, I’ll be interrogated, and my life will be on display for everyone. No, thank you. Shadow has never given me a reason not to trust him. Well, he did put a shock collar on me once…and grazed me with an arrow…once…and drugged me…once. But it was all for good reasons. Fun reasons.

She pushes herself up on her elbows, and I avert my eyes so I’m not staring at her breasts to remain somewhat professional.

“Has he hurt you?”

“No, it’s not like that,” I rush out. “He doesn’t mistreat me. He just does bad things sometimes.”

She gives me a knowing look, as if she doesn’t believe me. “You’ll tell me if he ever lays a hand on you in any way other than love.” It’s not a question.

“Promise,” I reply, unable to stop my eyes from drifting before she lays back down. She’s so pretty it’s not fair. I lift the blanket and rest it just above her ass, and warm some oil in my hands. It feels good to touch her like this. She’s so strong and confident, but right now her guard is down. Something tells me she doesn’t allow that to happen often.

“So, what brought you in today?”

“I wanted to see how magical your fingers really are.”

“And?”

“Hmm,” she hums. “Haven’t decided yet.”

I scrunch my face at the back of her head. The way she melted beneath my touch says differently. “Do you care if I get oil in your hair?”

She contemplates for a few seconds. “Do whatever you want to me, Red.”

I slide my hand up the back of her neck, threading my fingers through her thick waves, and tug while my other hand works her neck and shoulders. She groans as I repeat the motion until she is putty in my hands. I may not be as strong as her, but I could still bring the devil to his knees after lying on my table for an hour.

Her messy bun is even messier when I tell her to flip onto her back. She parts her heavy eyelids to find me wearing a smug grin, but it fades when I see the hunger in her gaze and the uneven rise and fall of her chest. I bite my lip and get more oil, warming it before gliding my hands over her chest, my fingers grazing the tops of her breasts.

“If I admit you have magical fingers, will you please stop torturing me?”

My hands freeze mid-movement, but when I try to pull them away, she covers them with her own, pressing them against her. “I didn’t say I wanted you to stop touching me.”

Our eyes remain locked for several heartbeats before she drops her arms to her sides.