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Still nothing.

A gloved hand rests on the roof above the passenger door, and I am so fucking hard in my jeans from all this waiting. I don’t know what the game is, but I have to hand it to him, the mask is quite a treat. I hate that I’m so fucking hard for him right now. Rhys is my boss. He pays me to drive him around. And even though I know this is wrong, I still want it so bad.

“It’s unlocked,” I say. “Get in before I change my mind.”

The passenger door opens.

Cold air hits me instantly. The figure slides in like it has sat there before. The door shuts after it.

The car feels smaller all of a sudden. Coverall against the seat and a mask turned toward me. I can’t read the lips. I cannot see any eyes, just mesh. I don’t need to though. I know that body. I have watched it walk away from me for a year.

I should laugh and tell him to take off the mask, but I don’t.

I have driven this man home for a year. I have locked his door and watched him walk away and told myself that was the job. Nothing else. I have sat in this seat with my hands on the wheel and wanted him so badly it made me stupid. Now he is here. Sitting right beside me, and this is my moment. The opportunity I have been waiting for since I started working for him.

“I have wanted you for so long, Rhys,” I say, truthfully. It comes out rough. “Not the drive. Not the money. Just you. I have wanted you since the first night you sat in the back. I wait for you every single day and lock the door behind you. I go home hard and I hate myself for it and yet I still come back the next night, without fail.”

The figure doesn’t move.

“If this is a joke, Rhys, then say so. If you are going to get out, get out now. I am not going to sit here and pretend I only came for the car. You told me to stay home. I came anyway because I thought you might need me. I stayed because I want you to need me. And I unlocked that door because I wanted you in this seat with me, not behind me.”

My hands are shaking on my thighs. I don’t touch myself though. I want him to hear me first.

“I think about your mouth, your hands, and about tearing that jacket off you in this car and finally being able to have you. I think about you saying my name like it’s not an order. I have never told you any of this, but I’m finally telling you now because I can’t stand it any longer.”

I swallow. The bay is quiet, and the one light over the ramp does not help.

“Look at me,” I say. “Even if I can’t see your eyes. I have looked at you long enough to know what they look like. I want you to put your hand on me because you want me, not because I am asking you. I want you to stay. I want you to let me want you out loud for once.”

Still nothing.

A small tap. A gloved finger on the mask. Soft. It should scare me. It doesn’t. It makes the wanting worse. He is tired. He gets mean when he is tired.

“All right,” I say, quieter. “Have it your way. Keep the mask on if that is what you want. I can still want you without a face.”

I undo my belt. I have wanted to do that in this seat for months, and I have already said the part that counts. The leather sounds loud in the quiet interior. I pop the button and pull the zipper down. Cold air hits me. I’m still hard, and already wet at the tip, and I hate how easy he makes that.

“This is what you do to me,” I tell him. “Every night I drop you home, and every night I lock you in the car. Then I drive back down the mountain like this.”

The gloved hand rests on my thigh first and squeezes.

I make a sound I have never made in this car. Not because of the hand but because it did not get out of the car.

I push my jeans and underwear down enough to get myself out, then the hand slides up and wraps around my cock.

My hips lift into that fist. The glove is dry and tight and I do not care because I am so fucking hard and turned on just from that touch.

“Fuck, yes. Just like that. Tight. I have thought about this for so long now. Don’t be gentle, Rhys. I did not wait in a cold bay for gentle.”

The hand strokes once. Twice. And then a third time, slow. The mask leans in and the white face finds my mouth and stays there. Not a kiss. Just pressure that’s cold. That thin cut against my lips.

I know it’s not the real thing, but I kiss it anyway. I lick the place where a mouth should be and I say his name against it.

“Rhys. Take my cock out properly. Get your glove wet. I want to see it shine. I want you to feel how hard I get just from you sitting in that seat. I have jerked off in this car after I dropped you off and never said a word until now. I have sat in your driveway with my cock out thinking about your mouth. Please, Rhys. Please tell me I’m not the only one who has been thinking this way.”

The fist works me slower while the other hand rests on my chest, over my shirt, like it is counting my heartbeats.

“Mouth,” I say. “I want your fucking mouth on my throat first. I watch how your Adam’s apple bobs in your throat in the mirror every night. Start at my throat. Then my chest. Then go lower. I will tell you everywhere I want you to touch me. I have thought about this long enough to know what I want.”