Page 5 of The Games We Play

“Run home,” he says through a clenched jaw, releasing my hair.

“What? All bark and no bite?” I scoff.

“Run home. Hide. When I find you, our game begins.”

Internally, I’m screaming, ‘Yes,finally,’ but I keep my bored expression. My turn to be a tease. “When you find me? Cocky much?” His shoulders shake slightly.

Is he laughing?

“Run.” His voice sends chill bumps down my arms. My brain signals for my body to run before I realize what I’m doing. Roxy races ahead, beating me inside the house. I slam my back door closed and lock it. Stepping away from it slowly, I stare at the tree line for the masked man. Seconds tick by, my chest rising and falling in shallow succession.

He strides out of the shadowed woods with a slow, deliberate gait, his arms swinging at his sides. I stand, mesmerized by how he moves. The way his jacket clings to his biceps and stretches across his chest.

I rapidly blink away my intruding thoughts.

Where do I hide in my two-bedroom house? He’s halfway across my backyard, and I act on pure instinct. I grab the basement door and reach to the top for the key. I jimmy it in the lock and pause. There’s a reason I keep this door locked, and I’m not sure even the man outside is worth going down there ever.

The back door rattles, and three even pounds thump in rhythm with my beating heart.

“Screw it.” I jerk the basement door open. “Roxy,” I call, and she whines at the top of the stairs. I glance toward the back of my house. “I know. Come on.” She goes willingly with one tug of her collar, and I lock the door behind me before slowly creeping down the stairs. I pause mid-step when boots walk across the floor above me. Once they recede, I quickly reach the concrete floor and cower in the furthest corner of the basement, calling Roxy to follow me.

Drawing my knees to my chest, I count the footsteps above me until I can’t hear them anymore.

Three - X

What the hell amI doing?

After pulling the sheet and comforter over her unconscious body, I sit on the edge of the bed, ripping the mask off my sweaty hair, and stare down at my slumbering beauty. When I finally found Puppet in the basement, she was sprawled out on the floor with Roxy whining beside her, blood oozing from her sliced and broken feet.

She never stirred. Not when I carried her up the stairs. Not when I changed her clothes. Sliding my hands over her soft curves of her body, I trace every line and graze her perky nipples. Her lips part, and I think she’s coming too, but she doesn’t make a sound.

I hover my hand over the apex of her thighs. I won’t touch her or even taste her, not until she begs me to. Not until she can’t deny her want for me.

Not until I have her right where I want her.

I fight the urge to reach out and brush her blonde hair back from her cheek. My hands clench at my sides, and my cock strains against mypants. She put up a good chase and game of hide and seek. A fire burned in her blue eyes in the woods, and I knew I had her.

My puppet will do as she is told. Roxy licks at my hands, and I pat my vacated space on the bed. She hops up and settles down, watching as I tear myself away from the room.

The television is muted. The salesperson waves his hands around and animates his facial expressions when a large phone number for a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity flashes across the screen. I pick up the nearly empty fifth of Jack and frown at the prescription bottle next to it.

Taking both the pills and the bottle to the kitchen, I examine the long italic name. I don’t recognize it, so I shake a few of them out into my hand. If something is wrong with my pet, I need to know. Luckily, I have a guy who can tell me exactly what this tiny substance is for. The Jack sloshes and swirls around the sink bowl until it disappears down the drain.

Step one: show my little puppet how much more fun we’ll have when she’s sober.

Step two: have her begging to swallow my cock and cum until I tell her to stop.

My smiling reflection stares back at me through the window over the double bowl sink, and I run a hand through my messy hair. Scratch that. Step one is getting a mask I can fucking breathe in.

I place the spare key back under her ‘Unwelcome’ mat and walk back to my parked car. Honestly, I didn’t have any intentions of introducing myself to her tonight. Like I have for months, I was going to just watch her from outside. At some point, my fixation turned into something more. Her presence quiets my mind. Nothing else compares when I’maround her, like she entraps me in a trance I never want to break. Or it’s the thrill of how this will end. To know that I will have my revenge and Puppet’s the perfect way to get it.

Tonight was supposed to be like any other night, but when Roxy walked to her door, I followed her steps from the window. When Roxy barked, and the door swung open, the hint of curiosity in her blue eyes, which mirrored the deepest depths of the ocean, had me racing after her before I gave it a second thought.

My dick aches against the zipper of my jeans, and I shove it down as I walk—trying to alleviate the discomfort. It doesn’t work. I wanted to slap her ass and brand her with my handprint, once for each time she challenged me with that quick tongue. Nobody ever thinks about talking to me like that. Even the whores I’ve fucked for convenience keep their heads down and submit to my every command. I thought that’s what I wanted fromher, but I think I’ve never been more wrong in my life.

I’d give anything to have my hand around her throat and pinned to the wall. Rubbing my hand across her cunt. I’d edge her to the climax but refuse to let her fall repeatedly until she’s begging on the verge of sweet, salty tears cascading down her cheeks before I’d comply.

I groan as my cock grows and hardens to a painful level.

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