Page 41 of Hockey Halloween
Leaning back against the stall door, I brace my hands on his shoulders while his fingers trail a path down my core. They slip under my skirt to the boy shorts underneath, and I get a thrill of satisfaction when he utters a curse as his hand skims over my panties. They’re made of the same lace as my corset, and they’re already soaked. This tempting stranger does it for me. It might be the forbidden nature of our bathroom hookup or the fact that I’m more than overdue for a little reckless fun, but I have a sinking feeling that my body’s response would be the same if we were fooling around in the backseat of his car or on a couch or in his bed. When we make it to any of those places, I’ll have to ask his name. And talk him out of his head-to-toe costume. But right now, as he slips two fingers past the flimsy barrier of my panties and strokes my bare pussy, the only thing on my mind is how good it feels to be the center of his attention.
His lips are pressed to my ear, his words as much a seduction as the rhythmic glide of his fingers. “I could do this all damn night,” he says, switching up his game to trace lazy figure-eights over the seam of my opening before moving up to toy with my clit. Every time he takes me close to the edge, he pulls me right back and starts all over again. It’s maddening, but it’s also hot as hell. The man in front of me might be a stranger, but he’s satisfying my body more thoroughly than any guy I’ve ever dated. And when he flattens his palm against my lower belly and rubs tight circles over my clit with his thumb while the fingers of his other hand thrust inside me and curl up before tapping against my inner wall, I lose all control. The few inhibitions I’ve been grasping at are out of my reach as I melt into my orgasm. I can hear myself crying out, but I don’t have the energy to stop.
He swallows my cries with his lips as I ride out each wave of release. My body jerks and shudders and when his lips leave mine on a gasp, I’d almost swear he’s as far gone as I am. We’re being swept up in the moment and I don’t want it to end.
But when the restroom door swings open and slams against the wall, we freeze in the confines of our stall. I can feel my heart rattle in my chest. I’m not sure who just burst in, but they ruined my post-orgasmic glow, so I hope they have the night they deserve.
I also hope they’re not the general manager or a bouncer or an overly nosy patron who’s counting feet in every stall.
When my breathing slides back into the normal range, I realize it’s not just one voice I hear, but a trio of them. There’s a high-pitched giggle, a breathy moan, and…the Aaarrrgh! of a pirate?
I know it’s a costume contest, but that part’s over, right?
The mummy’s head swivels as he stretches to peer over the top of the stall. It feels as though the whole room goes silent for a moment until I hear the pirate say, “Well, shiver me fucking timbers.”
I have no clue what he’s talking about but the giggler giggles, the moaner moans, and the stall door next to us opens as they troop inside.
It is definitely time to find a little more privacy. I figure themummy must be on the same page as I am when he helps me put my costume to rights and then unlatches our stall door. We slip out of the bathroom undetected but before I can say a word, he takes a step back from me and fumbles in his back pocket for his keys. I’m impressed that his costume has pockets when his words stop my thoughts cold. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—I need to go.”
Without any further explanation, he weaves his way back into the crowd, leaving me standing at the edge of the dance floor wondering what the hell just happened.
Josh
Instead of driving straight home, I stop for gas even though I’ve still got three-quarters of a tank left. As I’m topping off, I spot Reese’s car seat through the window of my SUV and I’m hit with a pang of guilt. What the fuck was I thinking? I know the answer. I wasn’t thinking. I was just feeling. I was living in the moment and doing what felt good without worrying about the future or the consequences. I nearly had sex with a stranger in the bathroom of a damn bar.
And the crazy part is, my biggest regret is that we didn’t have a bed. And that I didn’t get to see much of her face. And that I’ll never see her again.
And the fact that I’m an asshole who walked away.
But what choice did I have? I was completely impulsive and irresponsible, and that’s not like me. And if my freaking brother hadn’t walked in and caught me when he did, there’s an alarmingly high chance I’d have gotten on my knees just to make Sexy Chuckie fall apart all over again.
Sexy Freaking Chuckie.
Because I don’t even know her name. Or what she looks like without Halloween makeup and a mask on her face. But I do knowwhat makes her thighs tremble. And just how long to tease her before taking her over the edge.
The gas pump starts beeping at me because my tank is full and it’s time for me to get the hell home. I disengage the pump and screw the gas cap back on before fishing for the zipper at the base of my neck. I yank upwards to release the head of my costume. I nearly toss it in the trashcan beside the pumping station. It would hardly be the most reckless thing I’ve done all night, but I hang onto it and toss it onto the passenger’s seat as I climb back into my vehicle. The stupid thing was starting to make me sweat.
Okay, the costume isn’t the only thing that’s made me sweat tonight, but as I turn the ignition and pull back onto the highway, I decide to put tonight behind me with every passing mile.
When I pull into my driveway, I notice two things. The first is that Val’s car is gone, and the second is that my scarecrow has fallen over. He’s not a real scarecrow, as in one with the dubious job of scaring off birds, but Reese brought home a book with a scarecrow in it a few weeks ago and decided we had to put one up as a decoration. We used an old flannel shirt of mine and made a total mess with straw and glue and buttons, but we had fun. Val even joined in and donated a pair of ripped jeans. It was a good day. A really good day.
Too good of a day. What the hell is wrong with me lately? I need to stop having lustful thoughts about my neighbor-slash-coworker. I need to be professional. And fine, the last hour of my life doesn’t reflect any professionalism at all. Or maturity. Or common sense. That’s it. From here on out, no more sexy thoughts about Valerie Grim, and absolutely no sexy times with strangers.
Grabbing my mummy head, I hop out of my car and pick the scarecrow up, driving the stake back into the ground and taking an extra minute to even out his stuffing and tug his hat back on. When Reese comes home from her sleepover at my parents’ tomorrow, she’ll know if there’s a straw out of place.
As I’m finishing up, I hear the crunch of tires over gravel and when I look toward the sound, I’m momentarily blinded by the headlights of Val’s car.
My first thought is that she’s home.
My second thought is to wonder if she’s alone.
And my third thought is that it’s none of my damn business, especially because I had my hand all up in Sexy Chuckie’s business less than an hour ago.
I’m a fucking mess and I need to get my shit together.
But when Val’s car door opens and she steps out, I quickly realize my shit may never be together again.
She doesn’t notice me, not at first. She’s too busy grabbing her purse and locking her car. Even after her headlights fade, I can see her clearly because of the streetlamp across the alley and the motion-detector lights I installed along the back fence.
