The night air sends a cold shiver through me. All I can make out is the sound of my teeth clattering together and I can see my own breath. The four of us enter the woods, and the flames from the haunted house are so bright, they somehow manage to light our way out. The sirens grow louder, coming from behind us, and people are shouting in distress.
Rubbing my arms, trying to warm myself, I realize it’s no use. Ghost removes the robe of his costume and pulls it over my head. Shrugging into the sleeves, I snuggle into the warmth, breathing in the heady, intoxicating scent of his cologne.
Mixed with musk, and copper.
Shivering from the icy breeze, I gaze apologetically into his eyes. “Aren’t you cold now?”
“I’m fine,” he counters.
“How?” I gasp, looking over his defined forearms.
And I finally notice the blood.
Yet, he says nothing, as he pulls up the hood, covering my head, protecting my numb ears from the harsh wind.
Scurrying to the excluded area where they parked their motorcycles, Ghost faces me, placing the helmet onto my head. He fastens the buckle beneath my jaw before straddling his bike, kicking back the stand.
Gripping his shoulder, ready to climb on behind him, he stops me.
“You’re riding with Michael, baby,” he announces.
And I frown, confusion washing over me. “Oh?”
“Better to be cautious, little Quinn,” Ghost explains, pulling on his blood-spattered mask.
“Hop on,” Michael instructs, offering his hand.
Placing my hand in his, I climb on behind him, locking my arms around his waist. He’s huge compared to me. His body is as hard as stone, and suddenly I wonder what it looks like beneath the jumpsuit of his costume.
A dull ache settles between my legs at the thought of having three of them.
Ghost nods, and within seconds, the engines roar to life, echoing through the woods. When, unexpectedly, flashlights shine in our direction, and the leaves begin to rustle on the dirt ground. It’s now clear we are no longer alone.
“Hey!” a man loudly shouts. “This is the police. Hands where I can see them!”
“Now,” Ghost snaps, as all three of us take off, pulling off to the right with a screech of tires as we speed down the road.
“Stop right there!”
We faintly hear another police officer command, until the sound of his voice is drowned out from the loud revving of the motorcycles. My heart races, adrenaline coursing through me. All my senses become heightened as I grip Michael tighter, burying my face into his back.
Sirens wail, drawing in on us, flashing lights from police cars pull out in front of us down the road. And they’re headed straight toward us.
Ghost immediately slows down, and holds his arm out to the side, gesturing for us to bang a hard left turn down an abandoned side street.
“Get her out of here,” he shouts.
Michael makes the sharp turn, and my heart sinks.
“Wait,” I squeal, realizing that Ghost and Jason are not planning on accompanying us. “Wait!” I scream again, glancing back, only to notice they’re already gone.
And they’re headed straight for the police.
“What the fuck are they doing?” I plead to Michael, hugging him tighter.
“Don’t worry about them,” he consoles me. “They’ll be fine.”
“But how do you know that—”
Tightly gripping my knee, he caresses my skin. “It’s a distraction,” he explains, racing down the long, narrow road. “They know what they’re doing.”
“They do?”
He nods in response.
“Okay,” I weakly say, doubting him.
“Is this your first time running from the cops?” he asks, nonchalantly.
“Yes,” I admit. “Why?”
And then it hits me.
It’s not their first time. And from his eerie silence, he makes it clear that it won’t be the last.
Anxiously pacing across the living room of their apartment, negative thoughts and images flood through my mind. Worst-case scenarios. I am a complete and utter wreck, terrified of the unknown. Paranoia has me by the throat.
It’s a gut-wrenching feeling that I’m no stranger to.
The house is silent. All I can hear is a high-pitched ringing in my ears, along with the sound of Michael’s boots creeping up beside me. Releasing a deep breath, I nervously chew on my nails.
Walking up and down the hall, again and again, I try desperately to keep myself calm and collected. But it’s been too long. Something just isn’t right. And I can’t help the feeling of guilt that eats away at me with each passing second.
“It’s my fault,” I murmur, finally breaking my silence. “This is all my fault.”
“No,” Michael replies abruptly, spinning me around to face him, gripping me hard. “That’s not true.”
“You guys went there to get revenge for me,” I point out, gazing up at his cold, blank mask. “If it wasn’t for me, then we never would have gone there. Then, maybe the police wouldn’t have assumed that we somehow started the fire. I mean, that’s why they tried stopping us from leaving, right? Because they thought it was us?”
He remains silent.
Frowning, I gawk at him in horror. “Was it us?” I question.
Still, he remains silent.
“I just hope everyone got out in time,” I say, more to myself than to him.
Without warning, he removes his mask, and for the first time tonight, I’m seeing his face. And he’s so, brutally handsome. Strikingly handsome, with sharp, masculine features. Brown eyes surrounded by thick, dark lashes that turn me to mush, along with blond, messy hair that’s loosely tied back.
He steps forward, towering over my small frame, forcing me backward until I’m trapped against the wall. “You’re safe,” he whispers, sending me in a trance. “Breathe.”
Inhaling a shaky breath through my nose, my body finally begins to relax.
“That’s it,” he urges, taking my hand, and placing it onto my chest. “Breathe.”
Again, I inhale a long breath, before slowly releasing it. The entire time, our eyes are locked in a captivating stare. There’s just something about the monotone, yet soft sound of his voice, and the way he soothes me.
There’s an endless depth behind his gaze, except he’s unreadable.
Empty.
Yet, I’m hypnotized. Locked in place. Unable to move.
To think.
“Good girl,” he praises, leaning into me. “Again, Quinn. Breathe.”
My heart rate slows, and I allow my eyes to shut, giving in to the comforting sensations that consume me as his voice silences my intrusive thoughts. Time passes by, and then out of nowhere, the sound of the front door crashing open brings me back.
Ghost and Jason enter the house, unmasked, covered in blood, and I run to them. Relief consumes me as they pull me into a strong embrace, and I silently scold myself for caring so much. For feeling so much for them, so quickly.
Although, instead of questioning everything, and hating myself for letting them in, I chose to do the opposite.
I give in to the inevitable bliss of being theirs for the rest of the night.
Pressing myself against Ghost, I lift my hand to the back of his neck, guiding him down to me. He leans forward, pressing his lips firmly against mine. Breathing me in deeply, feverishly. Quietly groaning under his breath. Running his hands through my hair, pulling tight on the strands, the back of my skull throbbing with pain.
I can’t seem to get enough.
After breaking our heated kiss, I turn to Jason, and he knows.
He kisses me hard, longingly. So much lust. Passion.
Michael spins me around, taking my jaw in a firm grasp. He presses his full lips to mine, aggressively gripping my hips, as he brings me against him. Slipping his tongue into my mouth, he fights for control, and he wins.
Melting into him, he lifts me from the floor and tosses me over his shoulder. He walks us into a room, Ghost and Jason trailing close behind us, and then he lowers me onto the bed. Grabbing my ankles, he flips me onto my stomach, tearing open the buttons at my crotch.
Fisting the sheets, the weight of his bare body leans against my backside, and he rubs the smooth tip of his cock up and down my wet slit. Michael enters me hard, and I take him all at once, stifling a cry into the mattress.
Barely giving me the chance to adjust to his invasion, he slams into me aggressively. Gripping the back of my neck, he pins me down, keeping me still. Stretching me wide, he plunges himself as deep as I can take him, breathing shallow with each forceful thrust.
“Fuck,” he grunts, wrapping my hair around his wrist, and pulling tight.
Flipping me onto my back, he pulls me to the edge of the bed, and my legs spread for him on their own accord. He enters me slowly, before slamming into me hard. Over and over. Without mercy. Gripping my thighs, he digs his fingers into my skin.
Jason climbs onto the bed, working his thickness with his hand, before grazing the rosy head of his cock against my lips. Prying open my mouth with his thumb, he pushes himself into my mouth, my lips stretching wide around him. Cradling his shaft with my tongue, he fucks my mouth, fingers clasped tight around my throat.
A roar erupts from his chest, and his cock twitches. Licking the tip of his crown, I savor the taste of him, until he plunges himself into the back of my throat. Repeatedly. Gagging on his thickness, I bob my head, meeting his thrusts, while Michael continues his merciless strokes, grinding his hips against me.
“What are we going to do with you now, little Quinn?” Ghost sadistically questions, tossing a rope onto the bed beside us. “Tie her up.”
Jason withdraws himself from my mouth, and secures the rope around my wrists, binding me tight. Michael lifts me, adjusts me into a new position, and pins my tied wrists over my head. Once he secures the rope onto a hook built into the headboard, I know I’m in for it.
I’ve never felt so defenseless, although this is better than anything I could have asked for. Tonight, I chose to be reckless, and here I am, getting used and tossed around like a ragdoll by two men at the same time.
Finally, my darkest fantasies are being brought to life.
Until my eyes scan the room, and I realize Ghost is nowhere in sight.
