Chapter 3
THREE
MOLLY
I step outside the metal door into a dark and dirty alley.
It bangs shut.
I jump, despite knowing it was coming.
Pin-drop silence descends on us.
Pressing a hand to my heart, I saunter ahead. I have no clue where Matt went. He couldn’t have gone far since he lured me to come back out here. Exiting the alley, I see a large cornfield across the empty street. At night, it’s a creepy and haunting vision.
My head snaps toward a movement to the right.
Matt stands with his head tilted and a hand inside his pants pocket near the opening into the field.
Does he want us to play our scene out there?
We settled on the haunted house. So, why the change of mind?
Perhaps he’d be more comfortable with no people around.
Yeah, that must be it.
A thrill goes down my spine when he crooks a finger at me and turns around. I don’t waste a single second and cross the road. The streetlight flickers before dimming as I reach the clearing.
One step, and my petite frame is swallowed by the tall maize.
Matt vanishes again.
God! He’s really fucking with my head.
I smile like a lunatic about to pop her fantasy cherry.
The wind blows, ruffling my waist-length hair that I dyed burgundy several months ago. I’ve braided the top while letting the ends fall down my back in beach waves.
My boots hardly make a noise as I slowly walk deeper, acting nonchalant as though I come here every night for a stroll. Despite pretending to be calm on the outside, I’m hyperaware of every second that ticks by, the beat of my heart, and every breath I inhale.
Where are you hiding, Matt?
“Ahh!” I scream, sensing a rough caress on my lower back. Whirling around, I realize what it is and huff a laugh. “Shit. Just a leaf.”
Stepping back, I smack into a brick wall.
I gasp in fear when it shoves me forward, purposely tripping me.
A glance back brings me face-to-face with a hulking and masked Matt. It’s like he’s grown two sizes too big in the span of a week. He’s been working out for the past year, so I know I’m being silly.
Without uttering a word—one of our rules—he watches me with his head tilted in that eerie way that sends a trickle of worry down my back.
Feigning annoyance, I look him up and down. In a bitchy tone, I huff, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He doesn’t reply.
Just steps forward.
It’s instinct that has me cowering back.
I suppress a moan at the aura my sweet boyfriend is exuding. Where the heck was he hiding all this energy? Continuing my charade, I indignantly say, “Go away, asshole.”
He bridges the remaining distance and hauls me against his solid chest with a hand around my elbow. I barely inhale his earthy cologne as he drags us backward, distracting me from my task.
Sinking into my role, I twist and attempt to free my arm. “Hey! Let go!”
He tightens his hold.
I switch to slapping his bicep, hoping to dislodge his grip. “What are you doing?”
Doubling down on my efforts, I kick and shove him. The second his fingers go lax for a fraction of a second, I snatch my arm back and run past him. His footfalls thud behind me as I turn right. Wheat and crops slap my biceps and neck, but adrenaline outweighs the slight pain.
The path is narrow, so I hunch a little as I sprint away from Matt.
No—my captor.
“Ahh! No!” My scream echoes through the moonlit sky as an arm winds around my waist. I’m picked up like a rag doll and yanked flush against his chest.
God, yes! Take me.
“Let me go!”
His free hand wraps around my throat from the front and squeezes in warning.
Fuck, babe! Show me who’s boss.
“Don’t do this!” I beg, futilely fighting him. “I’m sorry I was rude.”
The hand on my waist slithers upward, cupping my left breast right beside my wildly pounding heart. My eyes go wide as he massages it hard, really hard. In a way he’s never done before.
I swallow the pleasured sigh, my nipple puckering under his touch.
Are our surroundings bringing out his rough side? Emboldening him to let go of his worries about hurting me, even though I beg him all the time?
The shock of his roughness sidetracks me into forgetting to fight him.
“Don’t touch me, you monster,” I hiss, kicking him in the shin. He doesn’t even grunt. His strength is like an immovable mountain.
He pinches my nipple in retaliation.
Yes! Hurt me.
Tipping my head back to rest against his torso, I stare into a black entity as he tugs my shirt down. Baring my breast to the cold air, he pulls the peaked tip and twists, ripping a cry from me.
My thighs press together as my panties dampen.
His palm drags lower, wordlessly letting me know his intentions. He’s doing what I asked. Fucking me once before capturing me for the night. A second before he can make contact with the waistband of my pants, I realize I don’t want to give in so easily.
I’m craving more of the fight.
The push and pull.
The hunt.
Who knows if I’ll ever witness this side of him again? I want the full ferocity of my twisted fantasy, especially if soft lovemaking is what awaits me tomorrow.
With renewed strength that he doesn’t expect, I elbow him in the ribs.
Not expecting my move, it stuns him.
His fingers flexing on my body, I free myself.
Then I run.