Will led me off the ride, took off his jacket, and put it around me before pulling me in a sprint across the park.
Rain fell on us, cold and sharp, but I could still feel him on my mouth as the slickness between my legs grew warmer.
I just wanted to be someplace small with him, feeling him and stretching the hours forever, and I didn’t care where.
“Dammit,” he blurted out, stopping us.
I halted, following his gaze out to the parking lot. Martin circled Will’s truck with a flashlight, rain coming down on him in his black uniform as people scattered to leave.
My heart sank. “My brother,” I breathed out.
I didn’t bring my phone. How did he know I was here?
“What the hell?” Will cursed. “Why does everything want to stop us?”
“Find us a place,” I pleaded. “Hurry.”
He grabbed the back of my neck, pressing his lips to my forehead, and then looked around. If Martin saw me with him, it would be over. I didn’t care if it was in a game booth or in a Tilt-A-Whirl car. I needed him.
“Come on.” He pulled me out of the gates and off to the right.
I threw a glance behind me, seeing Martin in the distance peering through the truck’s back window, and I picked up the pace, racing with Will.
He ran up to a yellow school bus, probably the one that brought the middle schoolers here for their Mayhem till Midnight, and punched the door with his fist, prying it open.
I dove in first, and he followed, closing it behind him again.
I threw his coat onto a seat and tried peering out the windows to gauge if Martin had seen us, but Will grabbed my arm and whipped me around. I crashed into his chest, he took me in his arms, and his mouth crashed down on mine.
I moaned, opening my mouth for him and feeling his damn tongue all the way down between my legs.
Dipping low, he lifted me by the backs of my thighs, and I winced at the pain in my body, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t stopping this. He carried me down the aisle, my legs wrapped around him.
I took his face in my hands, tearing my lips away from his. “You have something?” I whispered. “Please tell me you have something.”
He smiled. “Yeah.”
I sank my mouth into his again, whimpering as I locked my ankles behind him.
I trailed my mouth across his cheek, over his jaw, and down his neck as he gasped and squeezed my thighs.
“Ah, Em,” he moaned.
Reaching the back of the bus, the long bench seat in the last row looming underneath me, he dropped me to my feet and unzipped my dress, never leaving my mouth. He pulled down the top, the dress hanging at my waist as his hands ran all over my naked back and he kissed my neck, holding me to him.
“You’re mine,” he whispered in my ear.
I tipped my head back, savoring his warmth on my throat and ignoring the sting as his hand brushed the cut on my brow.
“For tonight,” I retorted with a smile.
He grabbed the back of my neck and covered my mouth, fierce and making me tingle to my toes.
I worked the buttons on his shirt.
“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”
I ripped off the shirt as he worked the buckle of his belt, and I nuzzled into him, letting my fingertips glide over his narrow waist and stomach.
“I don’t need you to take care of me,” I said between kisses. “I just want right now with you. I don’t want to think about all the tomorrows.”
He growled and pushed me. I fell down to the seat, gasping as the cool air lapped at my sensitive skin. He bared his teeth, yanking his belt open and unfastening his pants.
My nerves fired as my eyes drifted up his bare chest, my entire body throbbing for him.
Jesus. Perfect golden skin. Toned arms, tight stomach, gorgeous pecs…
Beautiful smile.
Soft, funny, and sweet.
Was this mine?
I clenched my thighs, but he scowled down at me, unhappy I wouldn’t talk about the future, but it was kind of cute because his eyes kept dropping to my breasts as he heaved with every breath.
He couldn’t stop any more than I could.
Coming down on top of me, he grabbed my throat and pushed me down. I whimpered, arching my bare back and closing my eyes as he dipped down and sucked a nipple into his mouth.
“Ah,” I moaned.
He pushed up my skirt and reached underneath, taking my underwear and tugging.
The fabric screamed, tearing clear off my body, and I spread my legs wider, feeling his other hand still squeezing my neck.
“God, I wanna knock you up,” he said, rising up and looking down at me as he took out a condom. “I want to ruin you for all the times you made me think you didn’t want me. I want to give you a piece of me you’ll never be able to escape.”
His eyebrows were etched in anger, and for a moment, I wished he could. I’d love to have an excuse to drag him into my hellish life and keep him there forever.
I shot up, looking up at him as I took the rubber, unwrapping it myself as I kissed his stomach.
“Then pretend you are,” I whispered. “Pretend you’re going to knock me up and we’re going to do this every day.”
I tossed the wrapper, and reaching into his pants, fisting his cock as a shock coursed up my arm. He groaned at my touch and helped pull down his pants enough for me to pull him out.
God, he felt so good, and my head swarmed as I looked down at his hard muscle and stroked the soft skin.
“You’re going to have me tomorrow.” I rolled the rubber on, trailing kisses across his abs. “After school in your truck. Against the stacks in the library at lunch. Reverse cowgirl in your lap at the movie theater.”
He fisted my hair at the back of my head, his cock steel-rod straight and reaching right for me.
“My sweet, little secret,” he murmured.
He breathed hard and pushed me back onto the seat, looking down into my eyes as he reached between us to guide himself.
The thick head of his dick crowned my entrance, pushing inside just barely, and I shifted uncomfortably. “Will…”
“You’ll be mine,” he whispered, pressing himself deeper and deeper.
I groaned, stretching for him.
“You can ignore me. You can run,” he said, grunting and tipping his head back as he closed his eyes. “You can leave. You can hide…”
He slid in, burying himself to the hilt and filling me so wide and deep that I cried out just once.
“But you’re going to be fucking mine someday,” he growled. “Come hell or high water, Emory Scott. You’re my woman, and you’re going to come home to me every day and sit at my table and warm my fucking bed.” He kissed me. “And you’re going to give me a Will Grayson IV. Mark my words.”
I whimpered, shifting under him and adjusting as he withdrew and sank back in faster and harder this time.
“Oh, God,” I moaned, the skin of my already sweaty back peeling off the seat as I arched it.
He gripped my neck again, propping himself up with the other hand as he stared down at me and entered me over and over.
I gripped his shoulders, the discomfort subsiding as the pleasure of stretching for him started to feel good.
So good.
“You’re gonna want it,” he promised, squeezing my neck. “You’re gonna beg for me and love me so much you can’t stand it.”
He picked up the pace, my breasts bobbing back and forth as he went harder, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head, his cock sliding in and out easily because I was so wet.
I spread my legs as wide as they would go, reveling in how deep he went. Yes, God, please.
“More,” I begged. “Harder, Will.”
I held on to him, and he groaned, sucking in air as he rolled his hips into me and fucked me.
God, I…
Sweat seeped out of my pores, and I opened my eyes, gazing up at his
beautiful face and the sheen on his chest, all for me.
Reaching behind him, I slipped my hands inside his trousers, digging my nails into his ass and helping him come faster and harder.
You’re gonna want it.
I already do.
You’re gonna beg for me and love me so much you can’t stand it.
I…
“Will, I…” I gasped, feeling my orgasm crest and holding him as close as I could, but it was never enough. “Will, I...”
“Will, what?” he pressed.
But I squeezed my eyes shut, his head deep inside me hitting my spot over and over, and I cried out as the orgasm flooded me, the world spun around me, and my body wracked with euphoria and shivers.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…
Oh, My God. I…
I crashed back onto the seat, and he wiped the hair off my wet face, thrusting into me again and again.
“What?” he asked again, wanting to know what I was going to say.
But I opened my eyes, unable to remember what it was.
I took his mouth with mine and hugged him close as he rode out his own orgasm, as tears hung at the corners of my eyes.
He wanted to give me a piece of him I’d never escape, but he had a part of me I’d never get back.
This would never be as good with anyone else. I was fucked, and he’d already had his revenge.
Emory
Present
Three knocks hit the door, and I popped my head up, slamming the drawer closed in my bedroom.
I’d already been awake for twenty minutes, scouring the closet and drawers, but there were no clothes in here. And the temperature outside was dropping by the day.
Walking to the door, I leaned my ear in. “Who is it?”
The sun was just rising, although the clouds were brewing a storm. I thought I was the only one up this early.
“It’s Rory.”
My heart stopped for a second, and I straightened, staring at the handle.
What did he want?
“Thought you needed a new shirt,” he called out. “And maybe some pants.”
I glanced down at the boxer shorts and button-down I was swimming in, because Will had ripped all the buttons off of my other shirt last night. I still had pants, but I shouldn’t turn down clothes. They were what I was on the hunt for right now, after all.
I hesitated a moment and then pulled the chair away from the door and opened it. Rory stood there—a towel wrapped around his waist and hair disheveled with a stack of clothes in his fist.
He stared at me, unblinking, and heat coursed under my skin, remembering last night and what went down in the drawing room. I’d been so angry after Will left, I’d thrown a vase, fixed my clothes, and stormed out of there, more aggravated that I wanted to go ask him to finish, and I almost did. Being with him was just as good as that night on the bus, and it took every last drop of pride to drag my ass into a cold shower before I stooped to begging him for sex.
God, how I would’ve loved to never be reminded of how good he felt.
I snatched the clothes from Rory.
“Cut them if you want,” he told me, gesturing to the black pants. “They’re probably too long for you.”
“Thanks.”
I stood there, forcing myself to make eye contact, and he made no move to leave as he watched me.
The silence stretched between us.
“I’m going to head into the steam room for a bit, and then Micah and I are going hunting today,” he said, clearing his throat. “We might take Will. I suggest you come with us or stay in here with the door secured.”
It would only be Aydin and Taylor in the house with me? Not ideal, but with less eyes, I could explore.
And siphon supplies, maybe.
“I’ll stay,” I replied. “How long will you be gone?”
“Hours.” He looked me up and down. “If you need food, get it now.”
I nodded, and he just kept standing there. His pale eyes had this midnight blue circle around the pupil that made his stare pierce and made the hair on my arms rise.
I swallowed. “So, are you… like a…like a serial killer, then?”
He grinned. “Are you afraid?”
“Are you going to tell me I shouldn’t be?”
He shook his head. “No.”
He walked away without elaborating, and I watched him for a moment before diving back into my room and shutting the door, securing the chair underneath the knob again.
Ugh. I had felt something off about him, and while I still didn’t feel like he was evil, he was definitely capable of a lot. He premeditated the murders of seven people. It sounded like there was more to the story, but if he could do it once, he could do it again.
Taylor was right about that. They were all here for a reason, and none of them were my friends.
I slipped off the shirt and boxers I’d slept in, and pulled on one of his white T-shirts before cutting his black pants at the knee and pulling them on, too. I rolled them at the waist so they wouldn’t fall down, and slid on my sneakers, double-knotting them.
Cleaning my glasses, I slipped them on my face and ran a comb through my hair before brushing my teeth. I wasn’t sure where the soaps, shampoos, and hygiene shit came from, but it was in here when I came into the room last night, still packaged and brand new. I wished whoever got me this stuff had cared to supply me with some underwear and another bra.
As soon as Micah and Rory left later, I’d sneak into their room and steal a hoodie.
Leaving the room, I looked around me, rain starting to hit the windows as the gray sky loomed outside, and I jogged down the stairs, heading into the kitchen.
I had bread, cheese, a couple pieces of fruit, and some granola. I’d figure out how to get it out of the kitchen cabinet I had it stored in, but I also needed water.
Approaching the kitchen, I peered inside, seeing it dark, lit only by the light over the stove as I headed around the island, toward the back door, and keeping my eyes peeled around me.
I opened the cabinet and reached behind the stew pot, feeling the cheesecloth bundle still safe and sound.
I smiled.
Now for some water. I took an apple out of the basket on the counter and started eating it as I searched the cabinets for some kind of canteen or water bottle, finally finding some stainless steel tumblers with lids.
I pulled one out and filled it, quickly storing it with the food. I’d test the waters in a bit and see if I could make it to the basement undetected with the bundle. I’d store it down there to grab if I needed to escape or hide.
Slipping the bottle behind the pot, I hit the wall and paused, the apple pinched between my teeth.
That was weird.
I pawed the back panel, feeling that it completely covered the wall, and pulled my arm out, diving into the next cabinet to check its backing.
Same thing.
These cabinets weren’t as deep as they should be. I closed both and stood up, putting my hands on my hips. The countertop was at least six inches less in width than the other countertop on the north wall where the stove was. Heading left, I opened up the kitchen door to the terrace and looked outside.
The house extended at least four feet beyond the end of the wall of cupboards.
The hair on the back of my next stood up, and I couldn’t hold back the smile that peeked out as realization dawned.
Extra depth in the walls was required to allot space for wiring, plumbing, insulation… But not four feet.
This house had passages.
Holy shit. Did they know?
I closed the door and turned to the wall, behind which should be a secret tunnel and possibly stairs, leading up or down. Who knew where the passages went, but I wanted to find out. If they were clueless, it would be a good place to hide, and it was certainly one way that security could keep tabs on the people here without being detected.
And now was the time to find out. Aydin and Taylor might still be in bed. T
he others were on their way out to hunt soon.
I backed up and turned in a circle, seeing the house like I hadn’t before. What if the tunnels led off the grounds? To a crew housed closer to here than the guys thought? I could get away undetected. The possibilities were endless. I needed to explore.
I passed the stove, sink, and the kitchen window, seeing the solarium next to the house. There was a garden shed on the other side of it. If it had tools—a screwdriver, at least—I could pry panels open, assuming I couldn’t find the trigger designed to open them in the first place. In movies, it was always a book that you’d tilt to get the door to open, but it was more often some kind of lock mechanism or lever.
Dammit. How had I not seen this?
Opening the back door again, I stepped outside and crossed the terrace, droplets wetting my legs and arms as I dashed across the stone for the greenhouse.
Opening the door, I hurried inside and took off my glasses, cleaning the water off with my shirt.
A wave of warmth instantly hit my chilled skin as I inhaled the scent of ferns, soil, and wood, the sudden increase in humidity blanketing me.
I slipped my glasses back on and looked around, hearing the drops tap, tap, tap, against the glass panels that made up the roof and walls, as well as a light classical tune coming from somewhere deeper in the greenhouse.
I slowed, gazing all around at the ancient conservatory, the white paint of the metal window frames chipped and rusted. I stepped across the small white tiles, the grout black and filthy, and a spiral staircase leading to a catwalk that creaked when it thundered outside.
The plant life was in beautiful form, though. Green, thick, lush… Trees reached up to the roof, palms stretching wide as too many plants to name adorned the landscapes and beds around the walkway. This place was well-loved.
Did the crew also tend to this when they came in? Seemed like pointless work when these little shits wouldn’t give a damn.
Water hit me from above, and I tipped my head back, seeing an open panel of glass, the rusty chain severed and dangling as rain poured in.
That would need to be fixed soon. With the temperature dropping, it would be impossible to maintain the heat needed in here.
I strolled through the greenhouse, zero clue what most of these plants were called, but it felt like another world. Not cold and dark—not dangerous—like Blackchurch. It was calm and decadent, like an island somewhere where the heat and scent got under your skin and into your head.
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