Page 11 of Dirty Cowboys (Masked Men #7)

Indie

I wake to sunlight, and the sound of voices and machinery drifting through the window. My head throbs, and when I reach up and touch the bandage on my forehead, the events of last night come flooding back.

The storm, the tree, and the realization that turned my world upside down.

It was you all along.

They were the last words I said before I fell asleep.

It was not Wyatt and his friends; it was them .

Three men I had been getting to know outside of the masks. Relief washes over me; I’m not a creep and screwing someone who is barely legal. The fear has been eating me alive, making me question myself, and what kind of person I really am.

Duke, Nash, and Walker were the men I had pictured in my head behind the masks. It is them. My masked men are not complete strangers; they are men I’ve started to care about. But I now have to face them, knowing exactly what they have done to my body and what I begged them to do.

The bedroom door opens, and Nash peeks in. “Morning,” he says, carrying a coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs. “How’s your head?”

“It hurts,” I admit, taking the coffee. “Where are Duke and Walker?”

“Storm cleanup. There are trees down across three different roads, so they will be gone most of the day.” He sits in the chair beside the bed. “Duke left strict orders that someone needed to keep an eye on you.”

“You don’t have to babysit me,” I say, taking a sip of the coffee. “I’m fine.”

“Are you? Because you looked pretty fucking terrified when you woke up last night and saw us standing there.”

Heat creeps up my neck and spreads across my cheeks. “I wasn’t scared because it was you. I was terrified of what I thought I had done. When I heard the name of Wyatt’s bull, I thought...”

“I figured that’s what spooked you. I’m sorry about the safe word. If I had known Wyatt was going to end up riding that particular bull, I would have picked something else.”

“It’s not your fault.” I set down the coffee and look at him. “I’m just not sure what this means now.”

“What do you want it to mean?”

“I don’t know. The masks, not knowing who was behind them, made it safe somehow. Like it was a fantasy that didn’t have a connection to real life.” I twist the edge of the blanket between my fingers. “But you’re all real, and I have to see you. I don’t know how to do that.”

Nash leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “The same way you did before. Nothing has to change unless you want it to.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” I meet his gaze, trying to read him. “Now I know you’ve seen me completely vulnerable. You know exactly what it takes to make me beg, and you know things about me I’ve told no one else.”

“And you know things about us,” he says. “You know what we’re like when no one is watching. You also know what we want and what we need. It goes both ways, Indie.”

I hadn’t thought of it like that. I got so lost in my head about being vulnerable that I hadn’t considered they had shown me just as much about themselves.

“What are the three of you to each other?” I ask. “I saw Walker kissing you on the roof. And then there’s the way Duke talks to you both, and the way he watches you.”

“We’ve been together for years. There are no labels—we just work. It’s hard to explain what it is.”

“And now?” I ask.

“Now, what?”

“Now there’s me.” I pull my knees up to my chest, suddenly feeling the weight of his eyes on me. “Honestly, I don’t know how to fit into something like that—I don’t know the rules.”

“There aren’t any rules,” Nash says earnestly. “That’s the point. We do what feels right, what works for all of us.”

He stands up and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. “Can I ask you something?” When I nod, he continues. “Last night, were you disappointed when you realized it was us?”

“Disappointed?” I ask in disbelief. The question surprises me because I don’t think anyone would ever be disappointed at seeing Nash.

“That it wasn’t strangers. You said the men being strangers made it feel safe.”

“No,” I reply. “Scared maybe, and a little confused, but not disappointed.” I look up at him. “If anything, it makes sense now. The way you talk to me, the way Walker watches me, and the way Duke... ”

“The way Duke what?”

“He scrutinizes me like he’s deciding if I’m worth the headache.”

Nash laughs. “That’s Duke. He looks at everyone like that. But he went out in that storm to find you, Indie—we all did—and that should tell you something.”

He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sends a spark of electricity through me, and I realize that knowing it’s Nash makes everything feel better—especially now, after he saved me.

“I was so afraid you would run this morning,” he confesses. “When you figured out it was us, I thought that would be it. You would pack up and head back to the city.”

“I thought about it... and I don’t want to run.”

“What do you want?”

Instead of answering with words, I reach for him. My hands cup his face, and I pull him down until his lips press against mine.

“Indie,” he murmurs against my lips.

“I want you,” I whisper.

“Are you sure? Your head.”

“My head is fine.” I pull him closer until he’s leaning over me on the bed. “Please, Nash. I need to know what this feels like when it’s real.”

He studies my face for a second before his mouth is on mine again, his rough hands sliding up my sides as he pushes the oversized T-shirt someone put me in higher.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes against my throat. “I’ve wanted to tell you that since the first night I touched you.”

His lips trail down my neck, and I arch beneath him. When his mouth closes over my nipple through the thin fabric of the shirt, I thread my fingers through his hair and hold him against me.

“I want to see you,” I whisper.

Nash pulls back and gets to his feet, shucking his pants and then yanking his shirt over his head.

He pauses for a moment, letting me look my fill, his stiff cock twitching when my gaze locks onto it.

The man is a feast for the eyes. Then all that taut golden skin is hovering over me again, and my hands automatically move to touch his chest and lower down as I eagerly explore his muscles.

When he settles between my thighs, this feels different.

I have to remind myself he isn’t the masked man; he’s just Nash.

“Please,” I beg.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pulling my underwear to the side and sliding into me. He is being gentle with me, and we move together slowly. Nash’s eyes never leave mine, and I can see everything he’s feeling.

My hands tremble as they cling to his back, but he doesn’t speak; instead, he lowers his forehead to mine.

Each thrust is slow, showing me there are two sides to him, and no matter what, I am safe.

If I want this, I can have it. Tears prick my eyes—no one has ever seen me before, not all of me like he does. I’m pretty sure they all do.

Nash slides his hand up my side, stopping over my ribcage and holding me still so he can sink deeper inside me. I tilt my hips and wrap my legs around his waist, bringing him closer. His mouth brushes against my cheek, sliding down to my jaw, and resting in the curve of my neck.

Utterly lost to my emotions and the unexpected tenderness of the moment, it’s not long before my orgasm washes over me, and I call out his name.

He joins me with a low groan, then languidly thrusts through the aftershocks, drawing out our pleasure.

He eventually stills and rests some of his weight on top of me, keeping us joined for several long moments.

We both remain silent in the aftermath of what feels like a turning point until he slides out and lowers himself onto the mattress beside me, pulling me into his arms.

“What happens now?” I ask softly.

“Now we have to talk to Walker and Duke,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I’m about to respond when I hear the front door slam.

“Nash! How’s she doing?” Duke calls out .

Nash and I freeze; maybe we should have spoken to them about this first. Footsteps stomp down the hallway.

Nash jumps up to get dressed, but there is no time.

The bedroom door opens as Nash is pulling his pants back on, and Duke and Walker appear in the doorway.

Both men take us in, their eyes moving from Nash to where I have the sheet wrapped around my body.

“I see you’ve been taking good care of our patient,” Duke says.

Walker says nothing, but his gray eyes flick straight to mine, like he’s trying to read my thoughts.

I pull the sheet higher around my chest and look between the three of them. “We need to talk.”

Duke nods. “Yes, we do.”

I push myself up in the bed, swinging my legs over the side despite the dizziness that hits me.

“Shit, take it easy,” Nash says, moving toward me, but I wave him off.

“I can do it,” I insist.

Walker’s jaw clenches. “Like hell you can. You have a head injury.”

“I’m fine,” I protest, taking a small step toward the door, but my knees buckle.

Duke hurries forward, scooping me up in his arms before I can fall. “No, you’re not. And you’re not walking anywhere until your head stops spinning. ”

“I can walk—I just got up a little quickly.”

“No, you can’t,” Duke says, carrying me toward the door. “Let us take care of you instead of being stubborn.”

Nash grins. “Besides, how can we chase you if your legs don’t work?”

Walker shoots him a look. “And when did you decide to do whatever the hell you wanted without talking to us first, Nash?”

“You weren’t here. You have no idea what she needed,” Nash snaps.

“We always talk things through,” Walker throws back. “That’s how this works between us.”

Duke carries me into the living room, with Nash and Walker following behind us still bickering. As Duke sets me down on the couch, my eyes land on a pile of boxes stacked near the fireplace.

“What... why?” I stutter, confused at seeing my things here.

Duke sits in a chair across from me. “The storm damaged your house pretty badly. The roof is gone, and the kitchen window is smashed. It’s not safe to stay there.”

“My stuff?”

“We got what we could,” Duke says. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.”

Walker leans against the wall, arms crossed. “ Though if you’re staying, you can work to earn your keep.”

He’s in a pissy mood, and his tone comes across harsh, but I think he says it to make me feel better about staying.

“Don’t worry, I can think of plenty of ways she can work off her room and board.”

“Jesus Christ, Nash,” Walker mutters.

I look between the three of them. “I don’t understand what this means or what we are now that I know who you are. I spoke to Nash, but I need to know all your thoughts, not just his.”

“That’s really up to you. Does knowing it’s us change anything for you?” Duke asks.

“I liked not knowing. It made it easier to let go, to be who I wanted to be.”

“And now?” Walker asks.

I’m quiet for a moment, thinking how to admit out loud that even though they were strangers, stupidly I let my heart join the chat, whereas before I just brushed it off.

“Now I’m scared because it wasn’t masked strangers I was falling for.

It was the three of you. That’s scarier to me than any mask.

” I want to slap myself. Who even falls for strangers?

A silly woman like me, that’s who.

Nash reaches out to touch my shoulder. “Scary doesn’t have to be bad. ”

“What I need to know,” Duke says, “is what you want. Not what you think you should want, or what makes sense. What do you actually want?”

I take a deep breath. “I want to see where this goes. All of this. With all of you.” I pause, looking between them. “Is that even possible? Can I be with each of you separately? I mean, I know you three have something together.”

“We’ve never brought anyone else into what we have,” Walker says bluntly. “It’s always only been us.”

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t try to see if it works,” Duke adds. “You might not like us for long—I mean, Nash isn’t easy to live with.”

Nash flips him off, and I laugh at how easy their relationship is with each other.

“And the masks?” I ask, feeling embarrassment wash over me. “I know it’s probably silly now, but there are still things I want to explore.”

Nash laughs. “If you want us to wear masks while we tie you up and make you beg, you only have to say the word.”

“I would prefer not to,” Walker adds, and I wait for him to say he doesn’t want me at all. “I want you to see my face when I make you come. But if that’s what you need to feel safe, I’ll do it.”

“It’s not just about feeling safe,” I say. “More about letting go. When I can’t see your faces, I can be anyone and do anything. It’s like being given permission to be the version of myself I’ve always wanted to be.”

Duke nods slowly. “Then we figure it out as we go. No rules except you keep your safe word.”

“And honesty,” Walker adds, shooting a look at Nash. “Complete honesty about what we want, what we need, and what we’re feeling.”

“I can live with that,” Nash says. “As long as I still get to make her scream my name.”

Between my quiet giggles, I reply, “I think I can arrange that.”