Page 5 of Run for Us (Masked Men #6)

Chapter Five

Kasen

We all signed the Wild Steps paperwork last night.

It was all fairly straightforward, stating that we are to do whatever the client wants.

We also had to fill out any of our own hard limits.

Shore clearly has none. I draw the line at any bodily fluids that belong in a toilet, and Rip will follow our lead.

He also has a safe word, so if he needs to, he can walk away.

Kennedy emailed me this morning, as Kinsley signed off on her forms and attached her limits. It seems our new arrival has taken very little off the table, though she agrees she is not into being pissed on, thank god. If someone is into that kind of thing, more power to them, but it’s not for me.

I laugh when I read that her safe word is potato.

Clearly, her run-in with Shore yesterday was memorable.

The guy is obsessed with potatoes—if there is a lull in conversation, the idiot will fill the void with facts about them.

If I hear one more, I might poke my own eardrums out just so I don’t have to listen.

A package containing masks was sent to us overnight. The client apparently gets to choose, and I roll my eyes at the thought of wearing a glowing mask. I would much prefer something cool, like a Michael Myers mask or even a gas mask, but for what we’re being paid, I’ll wear whatever she wants.

“What about Sea Pine Grove? It’s always deserted out there, and the old lifeguard station is spooky at night,” Shore suggests.

The town isn’t lacking for forsaken locations. Everyone has lived here long enough that they don’t go looking for abandoned spots in town to explore. And if we get arrested, Shore’s brother will understand. The town is pretty relaxed, and we have almost zero crime.

“How do we get her there?” Ripley asks. “We can’t exactly kidnap her. This only works if she is willing.”

“Kennedy has passed on her number. He said the best way is to drop her the location.”

“Are we sure we want to do this?” Ripley asks. “What if she finds out it’s us and gets weird about it?”

Shore laughs—he knows what Rip is getting at. I once had a fling with a woman who was visiting town, and she got attached. I have a one-and-done rule for me and women in this town, even visitors.

“She has only booked for two weeks, and from what I know, she has a very well-paying job in the city. Women like her don’t stick around places like this.”

Kennedy sent me everything we need to know about her.

Kinsley Ellsworth, twenty-nine. She works for Ellsworth Couture Collective, a company started by her great-grandfather.

She has no known spouse and lives a fairly low-profile life for someone with her net worth, which has more zeros than we could ever hope for.

Not to mention she is stunning and carries herself with a grace that most women could only dream of possessing.

Her light-brown hair shines when the sun hits it just right, and her green eyes are full of depth—a wise soul, if I ever saw one.

“There is something about her. She seems lost.”

Rip’s ability to read people can be freaky. If she is lost, maybe this will spark some life into her. I can’t imagine wanting to be chased by strangers, but I’m not here to judge.

Shore shifts from his reclined position on the sofa in the foyer of the community hall to lay his head in Rip’s lap, where he’s kicked back on the other end of it.

Rip absentmindedly runs his tattooed fingers through Shore’s hair, and I don’t even try to understand their dynamic anymore.

Shore is the only person stupid enough to touch Rip without asking.

I have witnessed Rip put grown men on their asses.

He goes blank, almost void, like his soul is sucked from his body and he is just a shell.

I don’t know much about his life before Bluebell, as it was long before I moved here. Shore has mentioned it was bad, but not his story to tell.

“We have to conceal our identity,” I remind them. “It’s part of the contract that the client doesn’t see any markings that can identify us or hear our voices. This heat is going to suck covered in clothes, but I have ordered some which are lightweight. Once everything arrives, we are good to go.”

“I can’t wait to be in our own place. Imagine all the naked time we can have.”

I groan. I have known Shore long enough to not be bothered by his nakedness , but I prefer when he keeps his cock away . He once got me to admit he has a nice dick, and I have not lived it down. I thought if I agreed, he would stop harassing me. I was wrong—very, very wrong.

As far as dicks go, I’m not attracted to them. I sure as fuck don’t want to touch them, but I can appreciate he is above average. Though he is the worst person in the fucking world to have been so blessed because he isn’t afraid to let it out.

“We won’t be having family naked time. That’s weird,” I reply, shaking my head.

“Not for us. I see Rip naked all the time.”

Rip smirks and tightens his grip on Shore’s hair, pulling it back so he is forced to look up at him. “Not everyone enjoys being naked.”

The door to the community hall opens, and we look over and see Kinsley nervously walk through. Her eyes roam over Shore and Rip, then move to me.

“Hi,” she whispers, as if she is intruding on a personal moment.

Shore jumps up and smiles widely at her. “We meet again, pretty lady.”

“It’s nice to see you with clothes on,” she says.

“Don’t get used to it, unfortunately—it doesn’t happen all that often,” I joke. “Are you here for the self-defense lessons?”

She nods. “I am. Sorry I’m early. It didn’t take long to walk here.”

“How’s your tattoo?” Rip asks, standing from the couch.

Both Shore and I stare at each other in shock. Who is this guy, and what did he do with our best friend?

“Great so far.”

He walks over to her, and when she lifts her loose shirt to show him, he runs a finger below the script.

Shore moves to my side. “What the fuck is happening right now?” he whispers.

My eyes widen when she laughs at something he says, and in slow motion I see her hand move to his arm. Shore must see it, too, because he is moving in a flash toward Rip, whose body tenses, but he makes no move to remove her hand.

My usual attendees roll in, and while some are more advanced than others, today we are going to work on basic defense skills for women. Not that they would ever need that skill here in Bluebell, but it doesn’t hurt to have the knowledge.

“Welcome, everyone. Find a spot on the mats,” I announce.

Kinsley moves closer to the front while Rip and Shore move off to the side.

“This class is about giving you the tools. Simple moves you can use anywhere, anytime. Nothing fancy tonight, I’m afraid. Just real-world defenses.” I scan the room. Mrs. Martin always complains I don’t smile enough, but I grin when I find myself looking at the newcomer.

“Let’s start with awareness. Keep your heads up, shoulders back, hands free. Notice exits, people around you. Confidence is your first layer of protection.”

I step forward and raise my palm. “Palm heel strike—your secret weapon. If someone grabs you, plunge your palm into their nose or chin. You want to drive through with your body weight, not just your arm. Feel the impact, then pivot away and create distance. I want you to partner up so we can run through some of these drills.”

Everyone pairs off, and Kinsley looks around the room. I move closer to her, and she looks up at me.

“You can partner with me.”

I tell everyone to practice without making contact; we don’t need anyone getting hurt.

We run through the drill before moving on to a wrist grab. I talk Kinsley through grabbing my wrist, then slide my thumb up and twist my wrist toward her thumb gently until she lets go.

“It’s not about strength, it’s about leverage. Use your whole body—step, twist, pull. Don’t freeze. Act fast.”

I let Kinsley practice on me, and everyone practices with their partners. Her touch is soft, and surprisingly, I want her hands on my body. I’m not a touchy-feely guy at the best of times, and I hope she doesn’t notice the goosebumps that line my skin from the contact.

Shore and Rip don’t normally stay, but neither have left the room. Interesting.

The lessons don’t go for long, and I hope Kinsley comes back.

I would love to show her how to get an attacker on the ground.

My body over hers, sweaty and on the mats, plays like a reel in my mind.

I know it has been a while since I’ve been laid, but my cock needs a reminder that it’s not okay to get hard in public.

I end the lesson before anyone catches the semi in my workout pants, discreetly turning and tucking myself away.

Shore catches my eye and winks. Of course he had to witness it. He should know I’m not immune to being touched by a beautiful woman, but I bet once everyone leaves, he is going to have a lot to say.