Unmasked (Revealed #1) Read online

  ‘It’s not wild. It’s perfect,’ Sean muttered, his voice so quiet that I wasn’t entirely sure that I was supposed to hear his comment. But I had, and I absorbed it into my brain to treasure.

  ‘Here, let me.’ Moving behind me, Sean set about patiently untangling my hair, running his hands repeatedly through the strands and apologising softly every time he came across a particularly tough tangle and had to tug. This would have been much easier if I’d gone and got the brush from my handbag, but I rather liked being worshipped like this, and didn’t want to break the spell by leaving the room, even if it was only for a second or two.

  Once my hair was tangle free, I was treated to a full wash and rinse before Sean manoeuvred me slightly out of the water, applied the conditioner, and after consulting the bottle, told me firmly that I had to leave it on for three minutes. I then watched in greedy fascination as Sean began to soap himself down.

  ‘Let me,’ I offered, stepping forwards. I was immediately met with a frown.

  ‘No, you need to leave your conditioner in and stay out from under the spray.’ Pulling back the sponge, he continued to wash himself solo, leaving me pouting grumpily, but secretly supressing a smile at his bossy but caring demeanour.

  I didn’t complain about being a spectator because as much as I would have liked to have been involved in the washing process, Sean naked, bubbly, and slick was quite a sight to see and I couldn’t tear my eyes away as his hands smoothed over his tight muscles. They were like saucers by the time he carefully began to soap his erect cock, and he flashed me a glance, smirking at my wanton look and continuing with a knowing smile flickering on his lips. God, he’d only just had me less than fifteen minutes ago, but I could totally go again, and clearly from the shaft he was cleaning, so could he.

  Once he was washed, Sean squirted more shower gel on his sponge and stepped towards me, wrapping a warm, wet arm around my waist and beginning to soap my shoulders and arms. So he could wash me, but I couldn’t wash him? Typical. Not that I was really complaining; this was bliss. He was incredibly thorough, not leaving an inch untouched, but when he rinsed the soap from the sponge and tried to move between my legs I tensed like last time with the flannel and tried to squeeze my legs together.

  Glancing down at his stooped form, I saw the disapproving expression on his handsome face as he patiently waited for me to comply with his silent request. The disappointed look in his blue eyes told me that for whatever bizarre reason, he really wanted this, so I relented on a sigh, parted my legs, and let him do his thing, hearing a satisfied hum leave his lips as his hand dipped between my legs.

  TWELVE

  Sean

  Pulling a T-shirt over my head, I made a vague attempt at flattening my shower-dampened hair then turned away from the mirror to eye my bedroom with amusement. There was absolutely no mistaking what had taken place here; the rumpled sheets, carelessly discarded clothing, torn condom packets, and lingering scent of hot skin made it very clear that somebody had recently been indulging in a good time between the sheets. A very, very good time. And luckily, that someone had been me, I thought with a smug smirk as I bent to shake out the bedcovers.

  After making the bed, binning the condom packets, and folding my clothing, I briefly sat on the edge of the mattress and took a moment to think back over all that had occurred between Allie and me. One thing was for sure, that last conversation had certainly all gone a lot better that I had ever hoped, or expected. In fact, I could barely believe how amazing the last ten hours had been. Blowing out a long, thankful breath I thought of Allie and how amazing she had felt in my arms and in my bed. Right on cue, I felt my cock give a twitch and looked down with a rueful smile. The bloody thing just wouldn’t calm down at the moment, seeming to be either half-mast or fully hard ever since Allie had arrived. It was a wonder I wasn’t dizzy from lack of blood to the brain. But with our relationship seemingly moving in the right direction, I suspected my lower anatomy wouldn’t be getting any respite just yet. Not that I was complaining in the slightest; I’d learn to cope with being lightheaded if it meant having Allie around.

  I’d been so nervous yesterday when I’d initiated the conversation with Allie that I’d resorted to acting like a complete dick, making stupid, teasing comments in an effort to hide my anxiety. Wincing, I recalled my flippant remark of ‘Am I keeping you on your toes?’and shook my head as I remembered the appalled expression on her pretty face. Where the hell that had come from I have no idea, but I was still surprised that Allie hadn’t slapped me for it. I certainly deserved a good clip round the ear after the inexcusably casual way I’d treated her.

  Christ, when I’d seen that article about Elena on Allie’s laptop I’d thought I was going to vomit. All the feelings and guilt that I’d tried to bury over the past thirteen years had come crashing back on top of me so suddenly that I was still amazed that I hadn’t thrown up. I’d never confessed my past to a woman before. A few close friends knew the full sordid details, and my family had a fairly good idea of what had gone on with Elena that day, although I’d never told them about the waitress. But I’d never told a woman.

  Amazingly, Allie had taken it all in her stride. OK, so she’d looked a little troubled when I’d told her about my wild years, but after that she had just been so supportive, and thankfully, had seemingly forgiven me for my callous treatment over the last few days. Just the simple act of sharing my burden with her seemed to have made my guilt feel lighter already. It was incredible. Rolling my neck to check for the usual tension I held there I smiled – it felt looser than I could ever recall.

  I had no idea what I’d done to deserve her, but I was so bloody grateful that Allie had turned up to cover that shift.

  Leaning down, I picked up the damp flannel that I had used on her last night and grinned. My gorgeous girl had looked so hesitant when I’d said I wanted to care for her, but her eventual trust in me had been incredibly endearing, and prompted me to feel like the king of the world for a few minutes while I tended to her. Her embarrassment about letting me wipe between her legs had made me smile, because clearly she’d had no issues with me being between her legs while we were having sex. Maybe I’d freaked her out a bit with the washing thing. Chewing on my lower lip I nodded my head. Yeah, that was probably it. It was, after all, not something I’d ever done with a partner before, but looking after Allie, taking care of her, and tending to her just seemed to be a natural instinct. Luckily for me, she had agreed in the end, because I had a feeling that those would be difficult urges for me to suppress.

  The memory of being between her legs predictably solidified my cock again, and it was now tenting out the front of my tracksuit bottoms like a bloody homing missile. But God, Allie was just perfect. A groan left my throat as I closed my eyes, replaying every image I had of her stored in my mind. Soft skin and always so wet and ready for me. Not forgetting her breasts. Christ, they were perfection: pert, responsive handfuls that tasted so good I would happily feast on them every night for the rest of my life. There wasn’t an inch of her I didn’t adore. Even her long hair turned me on. Grinning at just how horny I was, I shook my head with a smile and adjusted my trousers to ease some of the tension. It wasn’t a particularly successful tactic, but it would have to do for now. Besides, there was no way I was having a wank when I had Allie and her receptive little body waiting for me downstairs.

  Standing up, I gave my crotch a brief rub to try and calm my throbbing hard-on and then wandered into the en-suite to chuck the washcloth into the sink before turning back and surveying my room again. It looked better now, neater and less like the seedy sex den it had resembled earlier. As I gazed around, it occurred to me that Allie was the only woman ever to step foot in this room. I’d never brought a woman up here. Thinking about it, I’d never entertained a woman at this house, either. All of my less salubrious encounters with the opposite sex had occurred in either a hotel or while on set somewhere around the world. This house in England was my retreat from the wor
ld. No one came here except for my closest family and friends and, as such, the only females to visit thus far had been my mother and sister.

  My pondering ceased when I suddenly heard a peculiar noise seeping up from somewhere downstairs. Intrigued, I walked to the bedroom door and stuck my head out, tilting my head and straining my ears to listen. It was faint, but I could definitely hear Allie singing Christmas songs, and I grinned. Bing Crosby was flowing from her tongue. Or perhaps I should say ‘crucifying’, because from the tuneless yodelling I could hear, Allie was butchering poor Bing’s famous tune.

  Grinning in amusement, I left my previous thoughts about my history in the bedroom and headed off to find the cause of my present happiness.

  THIRTEEN

  Allie

  Now showered, dressed, and with every single nook and cranny of my body spotless – and I really do mean every nook – I was in the kitchen about to try and work out what I could cook for Christmas dinner. After all the sex Sean had showered upon me, we both needed something fairly substantial to replace the burnt calories, so I was hoping to find a joint of meat in the freezer.

  Deciding to continue this morning’s festive spirit, I turned on the radio in the kitchen and retuned it until I heard the familiar crooning tones of Bing Crosby singing ‘White Christmas’ on Radio One. Glancing towards the snow-covered garden, I smiled contentedly. It was one of my favourite Christmas tracks, but this year it was also very appropriate.

  Humming along with Bing, I set about scouring the fridge, freezer, and cupboards for possible menu options. There was no turkey, because apparently Sean hated it, and we were fast running out of fresh ingredients. I hated using frozen food. I rarely ever did at home, but here, after days of being snowed in, there was little choice. Digging in the huge chest freezer in the garage I found a bag of roast potatoes and a beef joint, which I set out to defrost. I found some slightly bendy carrots in the fridge, a can of peas, and all the ingredients needed for Yorkshire puddings – so a roast beef dinner it would be. It wouldn’t be the most fantastic Christmas dinner ever, but at least it would be slightly special, and given the circumstances, it was the best I could do.

  Christmas sex with an incredible man, shower time adoration, and now cheesy Christmas songs on the radio. I sighed happily – this day couldn’t get any better. As much as I had longed days ago for a family Christmas, now that things had developed with Sean I was more than content to be spending the day with him. Besides, I could see my family next week when I got out of here.

  I was midway through belting out my best accompaniment to Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’, when I became aware of Sean entering the kitchen and grinning. Glancing across at his glorious beaming face, I felt myself flush bright red – he was no doubt laughing at my tuneless wailing – so I quickly snapped my mouth shut and gave him a rueful look in return.

  Squirming with embarrassment under his intent gaze, I tried to supress my smile by pursing my lips just as he always did, but then brought myself up short. Gosh, had I picked that trait up from him? I certainly don’t think it was something I’d ever really done before … Hmm. I needed to be careful – if I was copying his mannerisms already then I was definitely getting myself way in over my head.

  ‘All you want for Christmas is me, eh?’ he asked, strolling towards me with that cocksure stride and a twinkle in his eye. Yes, it was, but luckily I’d already had him, I thought with a smile, recalling my lovely Christmas wake up. Sean’s cheeky tone and wink made it obvious that he was thinking the same thing and my smile broadened. I then felt an unwelcome twinge of sadness settle in my chest as I registered that I wouldn’t have him for long. This thing between us was no doubt going to end when the snow melted, but I really shouldn’t allow myself to dwell on that. This was my chance to be reckless for a change. I needed to grab it with both hands and push my gloominess aside.

  Unaware of my sudden melancholy, Sean rested his hands on my hips and dipped down to place a quick kiss on my nose. ‘Well, your wish is my command. I’m all yours, my gorgeous girl,’ he murmured, before moving his lips to my mouth and taking his time to softly reacquaint me with his talented tongue.

  He was mine. For today at least, I thought with a sad smile against his mouth.

  Once I had shelved my gloomy thoughts, our Christmas Day proceeded fantastically; there might not have been any Christmas decorations or presents – although sex with Sean was practically a gift in itself – but we spent the morning listening to Christmas songs on the radio while snuggling up together in front of a roaring log fire which Sean had built and lit. Perhaps that was where his mildly smoky, spicy scent came from. Whatever its source, I loved it.

  At lunch time we ate the beef roast, and it was delicious if I do say so myself. Actually, considering my limited ingredients, it had turned out far better than expected: the meat was succulent and tender, the potatoes crispy and moreish, and after devouring four of my Yorkshire puddings Sean had pronounced them to be the best he’d ever eaten, which had pleased me no end.

  Our afternoon then slipped into one of pure indulgence as we snuggled together on Sean’s huge sofa for a post-dinner snooze before we began to watch Die Hard – selected because we’d missed all the good films on television, and it was the closest thing Sean had to a Christmas movie. Besides, once I’d mentioned in passing that I’d never seen that particular Bruce Willis film, he had stared at me in shock and then insisted we watch it so he could ‘educate me on Christmas classics’. The cheeky bastard.

  The television was on, the room was cosy from the fire, and we were relaxing together, which was ideal for a lazy day like this. Given how new this intimacy between us was, I felt surprisingly comfortable with him, and found myself able to push away my worries about what the future might hold for us and just absorb the current bliss.

  Lifting his arm, Sean patted around on the sofa until he located the TV remote, then pressed pause, and placed a kiss on my temple. ‘Let’s talk,’ he suggested.

  Nodding my agreement, I snuggled closer to his chest and waited for him to start the conversation, only to find him lying below me quietly. That was fine by me; there was plenty I wanted to talk about.

  ‘So what’s your next film project?’

  Below me, I felt Sean’s chest rise and fall sharply as he let out a sigh, almost as if he was disappointed that I was choosing to talk about work. After a short pause he shifted me slightly in his arms and replied, ‘I was supposed to be flying out to America tomorrow night for a week’s film shoot. It’s an advert for the new series of LA Blue, but judging by this weather, I won’t be going anywhere.’ The idea that he had to leave tomorrow struck me in the chest way harder than it should have done, and I instantly felt myself tense in his arms. It was nearly over. My scintillating snow-bound fling with Sean would be coming to an end incredibly soon.

  ‘Then after that I have a few weeks’ break before I’m heading back to LA to start shooting the next season. They’ve just extended our contracts for at least another two seasons, so I’ll be back and forth quite a bit.’ Pushing aside the sudden sadness that had settled on my mind, I nodded. I remembered him mentioning the series title before, but I hadn’t yet got around to watching it. Actually, I might try and avoid it altogether now that I’d had this fling with Sean.

  In fact, once I’d gone back to my real life I think I’d be trying to avoid anything that might remind me of him and make me realise what I’d had so briefly as mine. Roast beef dinners would definitely be off the menu for a while, as would Die Hard films, sponges in the shower … ugh, the list just went on and on.

  It was stupid, really, because we’d met less than a week ago, but the feelings Sean had stirred within me were so potent that I already knew I was going to miss him terribly.

  ‘So, enough about me. I want to know more about you,’ he said, breaking the silence as he rolled me further onto his chest so that he could access my long waves of hair. Adjusting my loose ponytail onto my spi
ne he slipped the hair tie off and began to rhythmically smooth his hands down the strands.

  The repetitive sliding motion was almost lulling me off to sleep, and I had to force my brain to engage and remember his question. ‘Oh, OK. There’s not much to tell. I’m quite boring, but fire away. What do you want to know?’ I asked, causing Sean to snort out a laugh at my comment.

  ‘You are far from boring, Allie,’ he corrected me, his strict tone making me laugh. I was boring when compared to him though – he was flying off to LA to shoot a TV series, and what would I be doing? Oh yes, going back to school to teach another term with my year threes. Hardly comparable lifestyles – although I didn’t bother to say it out loud again.

  ‘Start with your name. Is it short for something?’ His hand was still stroking down the length of my hair, something he really seemed quite fascinated with, so with a contented sigh I let my eyes flicker shut as I relaxed against him, completely at ease. My nose wrinkled as I considered his question.

  ‘Yeah, my name is Alexis, but I hate it, so I’ve always shortened it to Allie.’

  ‘Alexis? That’s quite a unique name, but I don’t see why you hate it; it’s pretty,’ he mumbled against my temple, but I huffed, remembering how all the kids at school had called me ‘posh’ for years, and then of course there were the boys, who upon discovering that Alexis could also be a male name had spent endless hours taking the piss out of me.

  ‘It is, but I prefer Allie. My dad is a bit of a history buff, I’m named after some Greek poet.’

  ‘It’s more exciting than my name. I can’t even shorten it,’ he murmured before falling quiet again.

  We had lain in companionable silence for the last few hours as we’d snoozed and watched the television, but below me, I suddenly felt a change. Sean became noticeably tenser, and I could feel his jaw working against the top of my head as if he was chewing nervously on his lip. Pushing myself upright I looked at him and found him doing exactly that – his lip was being chewed frantically between his teeth as his concerned, frowning face looked up at me warily.