Page 22 of Nothing to Fear
Music floods my veins as the DJ works his magic, the base thumping through the old floorboards as I walk into the party late. I wasn’t in a rush to join everyone, especially because I didn’t want anyone to catch me leaving my room. The more people who are here, the more distracted everyone is.
I find Eli and Rome in the kitchen talking, and when I fill up a Solo cup from the keg, their eyes glancing up at me without saying a word, I know they have no idea who I am.
“C’mon, dude. You can’t go for her. Lucy Darling has been eyeing the shit outta Silas for weeks. Pretty sure he’ll be getting his dick wet inside her soon,” Eli tells Rome.
“Yeah, but he hasn’t made his move yet, which means she’s fair game. Have you seen her tonight? That chick is hot as fuck.”
“She’s hot, but what are you gonna say if you find out Silas likes her, and you’ve just given her your famous homemade cream pie?”
“To enjoy my leftovers?”
Eli gags, a deep, dry heave that forces me to bite the inside of my cheek to hold back my laugh. I don’t give a damn if Rome wants to hook up with Lucy. His lack of give-a-damn about me, though, sucks. Not that I expect anything different from him. Eli may have a mouth on him, but at least he’s defending me.
I throw back the drink, taking long pulls of the amber liquid until I drain it completely. The alcohol warms me, my veins pulsing as it does its job. I look at where Rome is studying Lucy, a girl from our class with long blonde hair and a tight body. She’s objectively beautiful, but my dick doesn’t notice.
Instead, I spot a familiar costume right away, my eyes flicking to him as if they were a moth to a flame. His headcocks to the side, and it’s so eerily familiar that it sends chills down my spine. I push farther into the room, grabbing a bright purple concoction from a drink table and leaning back against a wall.
My mind flashes with erotic images of the same glowing masked skeleton and the way he expertly explored my body, the way he fucked me into the lounge chair, the sound of his distorted voice, and the roar he let loose as he filled the condom with cum deep inside me.
Nothing has ever come remotely close to competing with that night. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.Except maybe the glory hole.I look around the room, wondering if anything will trigger a memory of the masked mystery man that would give me a glimpse into who he is, but come up short when his fingers do a come-hither motion, beckoning me to him.
I comply without hesitation.
The world fades around me as the masked stranger holds out his hand, glowing green fingers grasping onto my wrist and hauling me into his body. His masked face nuzzles into my neck, and my eyes flutter closed as a subtle, familiar scent engulfs my senses.
“You feel too good in my arms. Never thought I’d see you again.”
“Mmm,” I moan against him. His arms encompass my body, my knees growing weak at the feeling of being held closely. His heart beats rapidly, felt through the thin layers of our clothes, and I know without a doubt it matches my own. My arms wrap around his shoulders, my hands cupping the back of his neck and meeting a thin strip of bare skin where the hood of his costume doesn’t connect with the top. Electricity sparks from the spot, and I pull my head back to face my masked stranger straight on.
His head cocks to the side, eerie skeleton features peering back at me.
“How about a little game?” His voice is distorted, gruff, and sends chills straight down my spine.
“What’d you have in mind?” I keep my voice low, purposefully dropping it deeper and trying to mask it.
“Seven minutes in hell.”
Without replying, I grab his hand, pulling him behind me as I head through Harrow House, past the throngs of people, up the grand staircase to the second story, past the many photographs of important people to the school, and directly to my apartment door.
I know I’m taking a gamble by bringing him here, but I’ve never had people over before, and in case of a hookup tonight, I cleared my room of any identifiable items and strung red lights so I could keep it dark.
Good thing I planned.
After unlocking the door, I pull him inside, kicking the door shut. His hands are on me a moment later, pushing me against the closed door, his hands sneaking under my hoodie and finding bare skin.
I groan against his touch, synapses firing, my dick aching against my zipper in anticipation. I dig my fingers into his shoulders, pulling him closer, hating all the barriers between us but too terrified to eliminate them. He can’t know who I am.
The masked stranger pulls back, taking out his phone and typing something in. There’s a moment of panic before he turns it around in his hand, showing me a timer.
“Seven minutes. But no coming.” Jesus. With the way he’s expertly touching me? I could blow right now, and I’m still fully dressed. “I’m going to edge you until you can’t take any more. And if you last seven minutes, I’ll reward you.”
Fuck yes. That I can do.
I walk farther into my room, a sudden rush of confidence pushing to the surface. His head does that eerie move as I prowl him, that reminds me of . . .Asher. As quickly as the thought enters my head, I push it out. Asher isn’t here with me right now. My masked stranger is. And this is all that matters. Feeling good. Being myself. Letting go.
Just as my hands reach his body, sliding up the glowing ribs of his costume, he shoves me backward. I stumble, the back of my knees hitting the mattress and making me collapse backward. He’s quick to move, kicking my feet to spread my legs, and then he’s standing in front of me. I’m completely consumed by the heat of the moment, the electricity vibrating between us, a silent hum of desire and lust . . . of connection. It’s otherworldly, deep, and profound. Comfortable and familiar. I long to reach up and remove his mask, to see the man behind it.
But that will never happen. And if all I can have are these fleeting moments of pure hedonism, I’m going to take them without guilt before they’re gone forever.
