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Annabeth
My heart stops.
The simple black mask dangles from my fingers and I stare back at him.
Cohen.
Cohen Decker was Colton all along.
An iciness trickles through me and I startle into action, scrambling away from him on the narrow antique chair and cover my chest with my arms. My breaths come in harsh pants, burning my lungs as I balance precariously on the cusp of hyperventilating.
With a jerky motion, I drop the mask like it’s burning hot.
Cohen watches me silently. He looks like some deviant god, sprawled on the couch and freshly fucked. He runs long fingers through his hair to tame it back into place.
His hair is a mess because I was the one using his dark locks like my personal reins as he went down on me.
The room reeks of sex and sweat. Of us.
My fantasy is completely shattered.
I press the back of my trembling hand to my lips, my eyes wide and locked on him.
The events of the night run through my head, little moments where I compared Cohen and Colton leaping out in stark relief. The truth bleeds from those instances where I thought they were the same.
“You were wearing a red suit when you arrived.” It’s the only thing I can think to accuse him of with my thoughts jumbling in my mind. “I saw you.”
Cohen shrugs. “I had a second tux delivered earlier. I paid one of the catering staff to store it for me.”
“You…you were…” I don’t have words. A broken, panicked sob wracks my body. “You—”
“Me.”
Cohen gestures to himself with a sweep of his arm. His cock is still out, softening between his legs. The spots of his come darken the velvet between his spread legs.
A burst of heat spreads over my face at the sight of him. It occurs to me that his come is all over my fingers, too.
With a desperate sound falling from my lips, I roughly wipe my hand on the settee, no longer caring about staining it. I’d rather burn the antique than sit on it a minute longer.
Shoving my arms back into my dress, I tug it into place. I can’t find the hidden zipper and after a minute of fumbling, I give up. I still feel exposed, even with my gown back on.
I stand to cross the room, needing to get as far away from Cohen as possible. My legs wobble and I make it two steps before I lose my balance and lean heavily on a chaise covered by a sheet. I don’t meet Cohen’s eyes as his self-satisfied laughter seeps into my bones.
“You okay there, baby? Did I fuck you so good you can barely walk?”
Shame washes over me. I enjoyed every second when I thought he was Colton.
Fuck, I even liked it at the end…when I pictured Cohen in those brief moments of insanity.
And I put him there in my head, didn’t I? A small part of me wanted it to be him behind the mask when I let the fantasy game go far enough.
I close my stinging eyes.
The cage I fought so hard to escape is slamming shut around me and I’m crashing against the bars.
Betrayal and guilt sit heavy on my tongue, the taste bitter and sour. I can’t believe I enjoyed what he did to me.
My stomach twists itself into knots.
