Page 3 of Haunted Games

Abby

“What the hell!” I shrieked.

The wall was not a wall, apparently, but a hidden door. We were in a small room lit only by a dim yellow lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Crates had been stacked in the corner, and props were piled haphazardly around the room.

There wasn’t a lot of space to stand, which meant my masked…

assailant, rescuer, fright service provider?

was hovering inches away from me as I hugged the wall near the door.

His palms were flat on the wall beside my head, caging me, carved biceps flexing under dark paint.

He was so close, the heat of him soaked through my sweater.

His head was tilted down as he stared at me through those black void eye sockets, his hood hiding his hair and shadowing the lines of his mask.

He took ragged breaths that sounded like static through the mask’s voice distorter, and I realized that I, too, was breathing hard as I came down off that horrible confrontation with my ex.

The nerve of Michael.

“Is the door locked?” I asked quietly.

The masked man nodded.

I let out a sigh, feeling the agitation leech from my body at the prospect of being where Michael couldn’t get to me.

I probably should’ve been unnerved that I was now trapped against a wall in a small storage room by a large, strange man in a skull mask, but the only reason we’d ended up here is because he was trying to help me.

Maybe the horrors I’d just run through (including Michael) had warped my sense of self-preservation, but right now, being caged between this man’s muscular arms in this quiet room felt like the safest place in the house.

Adrenaline, though. That was still pumping through my veins and in no danger of relenting.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “That was my ex. I didn’t know he was going to be here, and he ambushed me.”

The masked man made a rumbling noise, which sounded like the growl of car engine through the distorter. His body tensed, like he was contemplating violence.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “He’s not a threat to me physically. And I wouldn’t want you to risk your job or your employer’s liability insurance cap just to teach him a lesson.”

The thought made me squirm a little, though.

This man was all coiled strength, and the costume gave him that frightening, dangerous edge.

Michael thought he was untouchable, a smooth litigator who could talk his way out of anything, including infidelity, it seemed.

Letting this masked monster off his leash to put Michael in his place was…

a thought that gave deeply guilty pleasure.

The man hadn’t moved. He was still hovering, still watching me, his naked chest still heaving. He smelled good, somehow, like the remnants of manly shampoo mixed with sweat and dirt.

“Do you think he’s gone?” I asked. “I’m okay to… get moving. I think.”

He cocked his head slightly, the empty voids somehow burning into my face.

He laid his large painted hand on my chest, right over where my heart still thumped wildly.

A disgruntled sort of rumble sounded under his mask, and then he slid his hand higher, wrapping it firmly but gently around my throat.

I sucked in a startled breath.

He pressed his thumb against the side of my neck, feeling for my skittering pulse. He made another displeased noise, like my pounding heart bothered him.

God help me, but I arched into his touch. This man was a complete stranger, an actor on the clock, but I’d never in my life felt so simultaneously cared for and possessed by someone.

“Is this part of the haunted house’s services?” I rasped. “Is there a masked man fantasy option for the ladies?”

He chuckled, and the sound sent chills through my whole body. His deep voice finally crackled through the mask. “For you, there is.”

Jesus Christ. Had I ever been this turned on?

Was it the lingering adrenaline from my run through the house?

Was it some baser desire to get one over on Michael?

Julia had undoubtedly let Jason convince her to fuck in some secret corner of the house, but she had years of trust and a large diamond on her finger.

Couldn’t blame it on the witches’ brew, either, because I hadn’t had any.

The man squeezed my neck a little harder—just a pulse of his fingers to remind me I was still in his clutches.

I could only nod dumbly. “Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Touch me,” I croaked. “Please.”

An excited growl ripped from his chest. He dropped his hand from my neck, and then he flipped me around to face the wall. I caught myself at the last second, arching back as the man gripped my hips firmly.

I craned around, trying to get a glimpse of him, and I gasped as he dropped to his knees. “Face the wall,” he rumbled. “You look, I stop.”

“What, I—”

He flipped the hem of my sweater up over my ass, reached between my legs, and then ripped the seam right out of my leggings.

“Oh my God!” I squeaked.

He palmed the globes of my ass in those big hands and squeezed—hard. “Eyes on the wall, sweetheart.”

I did as he said, wet heat rushing between my legs.

When he buried his tongue in my pussy, I realized his game. He had to remove his mask to free his mouth to do wicked things to me, and he didn’t want to risk his anonymity.

I moaned into the sleeve of my sweater as he a licked a long, luxurious path through my folds and rumbled a male noise of satisfaction against my slick skin.

He was savoring me—a strange woman he’d tried to scare, then saved from an uncomfortable situation with her ex—like he’d be waiting to do it his whole life.

“Oh,” I cried as he wrapped soft lips around my clit, still gripping my ass with his strong hands and lifting me onto my toes. “Oh my God.”

He worked me, the knot of pleasure winding tighter and tighter with every pass of his tongue.

“Please,” I panted. “I’m so close.”

He groaned, and the vibration sent me skating along the edge.

And then he pulled away.

“What? No, don’t stop—”

Those same strong hands grabbed my hips and flipped me around. He loomed over me, pinning me to the wall by my throat, his mask back on his face. He gave me no warning before he plunged two fingers inside me.

He worked me hard, empty void eyes in the skull mask somehow focused tightly on my face.

Oh. He wanted to watch me come.

The thought melted my brain.

I braced myself and took every forceful thrust of his fingers.

“Yes,” I hissed as he curled them upward, raking rough fingertips against the most sensitive spot inside me. “Oh God, I’m going to—”

I cut myself off with a wordless scream, my muscles spasming around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he barked behind the mask. “Fuck yes.”

He sent me hurtling over the edge. Sweat beaded at my brow, and I lost feeling in my arms and legs for a full ten seconds.

When I came back to earth, I sagged against the wall.

He removed his fingers and adjusted my sweater, which was long enough to cover the tear he’d made in the crotch of my leggings.

As I caught my breath for the third time tonight, he ran those rough fingertips across my cheek and along my jaw, studying me from behind the mask.

“Um.” I swallowed roughly, and the reality of what I’d just done finally fought its way into my lust-addled brain. My face heated. “Thank you. That was… amazing. Fantasy accomplished. I’ll be sure to note that in my Google review.”

He chuckled again. Without a word, he grabbed my hand and laced our fingers together.

He unlocked the door and stuck his hooded head into the hall.

The coast was clear, so he pulled me out into the Seven Deadly Sins room and led me down another dark hallway.

We skipped past a few other horror shows along the way, the shrieks and screams of the patrons echoing behind the walls. Our path ended at a heavy black door.

I cracked it open and sucked in a blissful hit of the cool night air.

The masked man still had not let go of my hand.

I shot him a questioning look over my shoulder.

“I’ll be here next Saturday,” he rasped behind the mask.

He dropped my hand and stalked back into the haunted house.

I gaped at his retreating back (also his broad shoulders and his tight ass), and then I stumbled out into the parking lot.

With a quick text to Julia to let her know I’d made it through the house and was ducking Michael, I jogged to my car and drove home in a daze.