He held up his hands and backed off. “Was just exploring a different direction,” he snarled, a violent expression crossing his face for a second.
Yeah, sure.
After clearing him out of the way, I strode back through the hall, smoke kicking up around my heels.
I made it into the dining room just in time to see Sage cautiously round the table in the center. I’d almost reached her when a young girl with fake blood all over her face jumped out from the other side of the table with a yell.
Sage screamed and spun right into me, my closeness scaring her even more and making her scream again.
“Just me.” I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight. “It’s just me, Sage. I’ve got you,” I repeated, feeling her tremble against me.
The girl ran off to her next hiding spot and left Sage and me alone.
Neither of us moved—her because she didn’t want to provoke another scare attack and me because I didn’t want to fucking let go of her. It took several deep inhales to calm herself, and when she did, she shrugged out of my hold.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I hate the haunted house.”
My brow creased. “You’ve never been through here…” It wasn’t a question; I was remembering. She always came with her siblings because they would do the corn maze and meet up with friends, but I couldn’t remember a time when she’d gone through the house.
“Once,” she told me. “Twice now. But this time is going about as well as the first.”
I chuckled, leaning forward and closing the slight space she’d put between us. “Well, lucky for you, Voldemort knows where all the scary surprises are in this place.”
“Of course, you do.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure half the girls in school wanted to volunteer here just so they could jump you in the dark.”
Shit.
Not where I wanted this conversation to go—and there was only one way I could think to stop its spiral.
“And I didn’t want any of those girls half as much as I want you,” I said boldly. “Speaking of how much I want you, we need to talk about the other night.”
Her eyes bugged wide. “Now?” she squeaked and then shook her head. “Not right now.”
Turning, she walked back to the hall, the smoke settling thicker into the space since it looked like we were the only two left on the main floor.
“Yes, now,” I grunted and reached for her arm, slowing her down.
Her head snapped back and forth, anticipating one of the volunteers to jump out and scare her—or maybe wishing they would—and then faced me.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she insisted, brushing her palms on the front of her dress.
“Bullshit,” I whispered forcefully, ripping my mask up from my face to rest on my head so I could really look at her. “I kissed you. You kissed me back. And then you bolted.”
With an exasperated sigh, she stopped and spun to face me.
“And it was obviously all for show, so there’s noth—”
She squeaked when I grabbed her upper arms and turned her back to the wall.
“I don’t know what show you are talking about, Sage, but that night, there was only you and me—”
“And Sean.” Hurt rippled from her gaze.
“What?” I shook my head.
“Sean was there, that’s why you kissed me,” she explained. “And that’s why there’s nothing to talk about. It was a kiss for my ex to see, and it’s fine. It’s done.”
“Sage,” I growled her name, the noise so loud and low it echoed over all the other spooky sounds pulsing around it. “You think I kissed you because I knew Sean was there?”
I wanted to make sure I got this right, because when I fixed it, I wanted there to be no doubt that I didn’t give a shit whether or not that fucker was there or not.
Her chin dipped. “Of course. Why else would you?” Her voice became breathless and broke halfway through the question, piercing my heart with the truth about what she believed.
“Is Sean here now?” I demanded.
She blinked. “What?”
“Is. He. Here. Now?” I crowded her with each word.
I followed her eyes as they glanced side to side. I didn’t have to look. I knew the rest of the group was nowhere in sight.
“No.” Her throat bobbed.
“Good,” I clipped and slid my hand up to cradle her cheek. “Then there’ll be no mistaking why I’m kissing you this time.”
Her mouth parted, but I cut off her reply with the hard seal of my lips on hers.
God, she tasted so damn good.
And it only took a second before she melted into the kiss.
Groaning, I wrapped my arm around her and gathered her against me, using my other hand to tip her head. I teased my tongue along the seam of her lips and groaned when they parted like eager gates to the hot heaven of her mouth.
I knew I wasn’t mistaking the want in her eyes or the need in her kiss, and I was going to get to the bottom of her reason for not believing me.
But first, I was going to give her every reason to believe how damn bad I wanted her.
Just her.
Not for fake.
Not for fun.
Not for a fling.
I wanted Sage for everything.
I deepened the kiss, my chest rumbling with a low sound as I lost myself in the wicked magic of her mouth. Its warmth. Its honesty. Its boldness.
The way her tongue stroked along mine cast an inaudible spell on my cock, turning it to stone against my pants, heavy and aching for release.
God, she was perfect.
Threading my hand through her hair, I sent her hat tumbling into the fog at our feet, the gray mist swallowing it up and rising around us like a visible cloud of lust.
Sage let out little moans—small enchantments that made me lose my mind until I had her against the wall, my mouth working small kisses along her jawline to her ear.
“The only reason I kissed you is because I wanted to kiss you,” I rasped, pausing to flick my tongue over her earlobe. “No, needed to. I needed to fucking kiss you, Sage.” My teeth bit down on the soft flesh, making her gasp.
I slid my hand up from her waist, along her side until I reached her ribcage and the underside of her breast. A low hiss pierced my tight lips, the edge of my thumb grazing the thin shell of fabric binding the heavy weight.
She inhaled audibly.
“Luke…” Her voice broke apart like daffodil petals against the breeze, bouncing along the gale of desire that swept through her.
“I don’t just want to kiss you,” I told her, pulling my mouth back down to the dream between her lips. “I want all of you. Every perfect, magical inch.”
I ensnared her lower lip between my teeth, sucking on it until it was firm and swollen, before I took her mouth in a hard kiss.
I should be gentle with my best friend’s sister.
I shouldn’t be kissing my best friend’s sister.
But rational thoughts evaporated when she moaned and began to rock her hips against me.
“Fuck,” I swore loudly, pinning her to the wall and tighter to me, grinding my rock-solid, throbbing cock against her heat.
I’d been through this house plenty of times as a teenager—plenty of times with whatever girl I wanted to be frightened straight into my arms. But how I wanted Sage right now was worse than any fucking teenage hormones I could remember.
And I didn’t want her frightened into my arms, I wanted her locked in them willingly.
I shoved my tongue deeper into her mouth, sliding my hand higher until the weight of her tit overflowed my palm.
She was everything my dreams were made of.
And we needed to get out of here before I fucked her against the wall of the haunted house.
“Sage, let’s—”
“Arghhh!” A strangled inhuman noise came from right next to us as one of the male zombie volunteers clad in Victorian garb jumped out from around the corn
er, an unwelcome intrusion through our haze of desire.
Chapter Eleven
Sage
I’d never had the bejesus scared out of me while in the middle of the best kiss of my life—well, tied for best if I counted the first time Luke kissed me—but I did not recommend the experience.
My heart was pounding. My head, a giant pile of blurry, blissful mush. And my body tingled with an ache that spiraled to each individual pore.
When a zombie appeared with a sickening growl next to us, I was too incoherent with want for my fake boyfriend to remember that we were in a haunted house, and it wasn’t a real apocalypse. So, I let out a not only unattractive bloodcurdling scream but also let it out right in Luke’s face.
There was a split second where Luke was completely unfazed before he shoved me behind him for protection at the exact same time I went to bolt for the nearest exit.
White smoke spun up like dust around the commotion, and I missed the lip in the old hardwood floors, catching the toe of my boot and rocketing me toward the ground.
I cried out as I fell, my knees landing with a hard thud, making me wince, and tears collected in the corners of my eyes. But the pain evaporated as soon as I turned to look at Luke.
My lips parted but my lungs were too shocked to let any air through.
Luke stood with one hand locked around the zombie’s throat, pinning him to the wall. No wonder he hadn’t heard me fall.
He looked menacing. Terrifying. Voldemort in the flesh. Except he wasn’t the Dark Lord looking to punish, he was looking to protect. Me.
“Interrupt me kissing my woman again, Billy, and I’ll give you something to scream about,” I heard him warn the kid in a low voice.
Luke must recognize him.
The younger boy nodded frantically and mumbled an apology, something about how they were told to scare anyone getting frisky.
Releasing him, Luke immediately looked for me.
Crap.
My head jerked away. I tried to stand up before he realized I’d tripped, but I managed all of a single inhale before I was doused in hot Voldemort’s shadow, his hands gripping my arms and lifting me upright.
And that was when I heard it—the sickening sound of fabric tearing.
“Jesus, Sage,” he muttered. “Are you—”
“I’m fine.” I brushed my hands down my dress, searching for the tear. Meanwhile, Luke reached down for my hat, the point peeking out through the smoke.
I managed to keep my breathing steady as he secured it back on my head, but couldn’t stop my chest from catching when he began to tuck strands of dislodged hair back behind my ears.
“We need to catch up to the group,” I murmured, hearing just how husky my voice had become.
Dropping my gaze down my front, I could see where my nipples were pebbled against my dress, aching for more of his warm touch. Lower still, a small cry cracked open in my throat when I saw the tear across the skirt, the fabric gaping to expose my green stocking-covered knees and shins.
“Oh no,” I whimpered, peeling apart the pieces to see just how far it stretched.
Which was pretty much across the whole front of my costume.
I bit my lip, scrambling for a solution to the situation, but my thoughts were still all knotted around Luke.
“I can’t walk like this,” I murmured, though it was an obvious truth. The torn fabric drooped down on top of my shoes, just begging to get caught up and tumbled over.
Luke crouched back down, sending a rush of heat when he ended up eye level with my core. With a grunt, I watched him adjust himself, my pulse quickening at the reminder of the hard length I’d felt wedged against my stomach.
“Trust me?” He looked up and asked.
I felt my head nod before I could think to give him a verbal answer, and when his eyes returned to my legs, I wondered if he could see my knees shaking.
Grabbing the dress at the edge of the tear, he ripped it farther, drawing a long gasp from my chest until one edge of the fabric was severed, and I realized what he was doing. My mouth parted, watching his arm and shoulder muscles flex with a hard pulse as he tore the other end and turned my costume from a full dress into an uneven high-low style—the high sitting a little too high on my thighs… especially when Luke’s face was right in front of them.
Balling the scrap of fabric in his fist, he stared at my legs wrapped in green fishnet tights and let out a grunt that sounded pained when he rose up straight.
My tongue slid over my lower lip, stalked by the heat of his stare.
“I think everyone is still—” I broke off with a small gasp when he cupped the side of my face, angling it up to his like he was going to kiss me again.
And if I was being honest, that was what I wanted. More of his kisses.
More of him.
More of the way he looked at me like I was pure magic.
“I’m not taking you where everyone else is,” he rasped, a strained look of uncertainty creasing a face that was always confident, especially when it was looking at a woman.
“What?”
“I can’t do this anymore, Sage.”
I tried to swallow over the growing lump in my throat. “Do what?”
There was a long pause—long enough for me to hear how my heart fluttered with hope.
“Pretend like how I want you isn’t real.” He stroked his thumb down my cheek and along the dip under my lower lip. “Pretend like I didn’t think you walked right out of my dreams and into my brewery that day. Pretend like I haven’t dreamed of you every night.” He groaned. “Pretend like I wasn’t about to fuck you in the back of the hayride because I couldn’t control myself.”
And just like that, we weren’t in a haunted house any longer, we were in this magical realm where there was only him and how he consumed all of me.
“Luke…”
His fingers traced down my neck, over the thrum of my pulse, and skated down the outside of my arm until he reached my hand, taking it in his.
Slowly, so I had plenty of time to realize exactly what he was doing and plenty of time to stop it—he cupped around the back of my hand and drew my palm to his cock.
Oh god. I couldn’t breathe. And I definitely couldn’t be imagining that.
I couldn’t breathe because that would mean this was real—that Luke standing in front of me, saying these things, was real. And my heart had hardened in self-preservation to the idea that a man like him—handsome, charming… the perfect prince—would want the Wicked Witch with my full curves, bright sense of style, and sharp, independent streak.
But he did.
And he’d offered his massive hard cock as proof.
Like an exhaust valve, steam erupted through his clenched teeth as my fingers molded over his length.
“I can’t pretend like wanting you isn’t killing me,” he rasped, his voice hitching when I gently tested his girth in my grip.
And it was confirmed; fisting a man like Luke Chambers was a two-hand job.
When I squeezed a second time, he jerked my hand away with a sharp inhale and a curse.
“I won’t take you back to the group and risk you continuing to think that what I’m doing or saying is just for show,” he went on, bringing my captured palm to his lips so he could press an openmouthed kiss to its center. “So believe me when I say that this is all for you, that I want you even when—especially when no one is watching, and that I want to forget about everyone else right now and take you home with me.”
His words hit a spot inside me that disintegrated my defenses. For the first time, I couldn’t walk, talk, or scare myself away from the gorgeous man in front of me.
The man who wanted me.
I knew I was strong and independent, but that didn’t mean I didn’t come without weaknesses or scars—that didn’t mean that the shithead upstairs hadn’t hurt me when I was young and vulnerable enough for it to not alter my future.
Because of Sean, I’d put up walls—blinders that prevente
d me from looking at any guy who was, as they say, out of my league.
But then Luke showed up—literally—at my parents’ house when, knowing who I was, he could’ve easily stayed away. Instead, he’d smiled that panty-melting smile, looked at me with eyes that drew out the butterflies in my stomach like a magic magnet, and declared himself my boyfriend.
And now, instead of wondering if this was real, his sincerity… his intensity made me question whether any of it had been fake?
I shuddered when the hot velvet of his tongue flattened on the racing pulse at my wrist, drawing me back to the moment.
“Are you using dark magic to convince me?” I murmured thickly, watching him smile as he licked my skin.
Hot tingles roamed over my body, further proof that, at least around Luke, magic was real.
“My beautiful, wicked witch… I don’t need dark magic to sway you,” he rasped, a slow smile spreading over his face, easy and sure now that he knew he had me.
My breath stuttered. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” His head dipped, and I heard him chuckle before I was suddenly hoisted into his arms.
I sucked in a breath and locked my arms around his neck for support that was unnecessary, his arms were like solid steel bars around my back and legs.
Angling his head, Luke nuzzled my ear, and then he added with a deep, sexy voice as he carried me out the back exit of the house and toward his truck, “I don’t need magic to make you melt.”
Chapter Twelve
Sage
The first thing I did after I climbed into the passenger seat of Luke’s truck was text my sister that the haunted house wasn’t for me, and that I was leaving with Luke; I purposely left out my destination.
Not that it mattered—Rose would happily read between the lines.
But I’d deal with that conversation when I got there.
Right now, I couldn’t think past tonight; I couldn’t think past this moment where I was going home with Luke Chambers.
And I would’ve laughed if my stomach wasn’t so twisted up with want.
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