Chapter 21 Theo
Theo
He was supposed to be at the controls.
That was the plan.
She’d read. He’d listen. He’d pretend he wasn’t still thinking about her pressed against the ivy wall last night, his two fingers deep inside her, coaxing a silent orgasm from her body…
But before he could even reach for the record button, she stepped in so close his chair nudged the console, then dropped to her knees.
He stilled. “Uh… Maya?”
Her hands slid up his thighs with deliberate pressure, and every rational thought drained from his skull.
Fuck Chapter Twenty-Four.
She didn’t answer. Not with words.
When her fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans, a startled laugh escaped him, like his body was already two beats ahead of his brain. The zipper came down. Warm air hit him.
Her mouth…
Soft, wet, and determined.
It closed over the head of his dick, and his grip on the armrests turned white-knuckled.
Holy shit.
His breath caught so hard it felt like it lodged in his chest. She hummed low in her throat, the vibration making his hips jerk forward before he could stop himself.
“Jesus—Maya…” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, like if he spoke any louder the moment might shatter.
She took him deeper, slow and sure, her tongue tracing fire along the underside until his knees felt useless even sitting down. Every inch she slid down had him clutching the arms of the chair harder, because if he touched her, if he even tried to guide her… he wasn’t going to last.
“You’re—” He sucked in air, blinked hard. “God, you’re…” Words were useless.
He was speechless. She’d actually shut him the hell up.
Her nails skimmed the inside of his thighs, urging them wider, and his head fell back against the chair with a low, rough sound he couldn’t swallow down. Every wet pull of her mouth, every teasing swirl of her tongue had him balancing on the edge between holding back and losing it completely.
He opened his eyes, looking down just in time to catch her glancing up at him, like she knew exactly how close he was to coming apart. And then she did something with her tongue—Jesus, that—and all his control snapped like a cheap wire.
“Fuck—” His hips lifted, shallow but helpless, chasing the heat of her mouth as pleasure punched through him, fast and merciless.
She stayed with him the whole way down, swallowing every last ragged second of it until he couldn’t tell if the pounding in his ears was from the orgasm or from her looking up at him like that while it happened.
When she finally pulled back, he was still breathing hard, staring at her like maybe he’d hallucinated the whole thing.
“Oh, God, your mouth…” he managed, his voice rough enough to scrape. “What the hell was that for?”
Her smile was slow and satisfied. “You’re not the only one who can help take the edge off.”
“Who said I was on edge?” he breathed, tucking himself into his pants like he hadn’t just been destroyed in his own chair.
She lifted a brow as she rose from the floor, every inch of her composure making him feel less like the one in control.
“We did a reckless thing last night. And we did it out of rebellion.” Her gaze lingered on him just long enough to make him shift in his seat.
“I think you’re a little on edge about the rebellion part. ”
She was right, and it was infuriating.
Her brother’s voice echoed fresh in his head: I’m serious, Theo.
He’d disregarded that warning the second he kissed her—hell, the second her nails sank into his jacket and she clenched around his two fingers like she never wanted to let go.
Maybe it was rebellion.
But it had also been need. Hot, unapologetic need. And now, with her standing there looking like sin wrapped in self-control, he wasn’t sure which part was more dangerous.
She dragged a second chair next to his, spinning lazily while her fingers skimmed over his control panel. “You want to talk about why you’re on edge about your latest episode? The moan you let slip through?”
Not really.
After Nate and Sammy had clowned him about it, he finally went digging through the thirst posts to see the damage for himself. It was worse than he expected.
On one hand, the podcast was blowing up.
On the other, it wasn’t the kind of attention he wanted.
Sure, he could appreciate that people liked his voice—hell, that they might even be turned on by it—but he wasn’t trying to be the attraction. The stories were supposed to be the star, not the man telling them.
He tapped the mic in front of him, finally breaking the silence. “You know what I like about horror? It’s honest. No sugarcoating, no pretending the bad thing isn’t coming. You see the shadow, you hear the sound, you know it’ll show up. The resignation is kind of peaceful, in a way.”
Her head tilted, like she was waiting for more.
“These are the fears you can control,” he added. “You can play around with them because they’re fleeting and thrilling. And when you can imagine the worst monster, the most horrific sublimity, everything else feels smaller. Manageable.”
“What’s the ‘everything else?’” Maya asked in a soft voice.
Theo’s mouth curved, but it wasn’t exactly a smile. “Bills. Bad traffic. People who clap when the plane lands.”
She huffed out a laugh, but her eyes didn’t move from his face. “When did you start needing a monster to distract you?”
“Oh, you’re trying to root around, Ms. Brooks…”
“Believe it or not, I’m interested in you, Theo.”
Theo leaned back in his chair, searching her gaze. Her dark brown eyes seemed curious, not in a teasing way, but as though she wanted to learn him.
So, why did this kind of vulnerability frighten him more than a ghost in the walls?
Why did he want to distract himself by kneeling on the floor before her? Licking an orgasm from her seemed a hell of a lot more satisfying than baring his soul to her.
But it was her focused stare that made him reach back into his memory to find something for her. An explanation for the man he was today. Her dark eyes, that always seemed to know more than they let on, made him comply without a struggle.
“When I was a kid,” he said slowly, “back when my mom didn’t have enough money for a sitter—before I met Nate and started spending time at your house—I had a lot of nights alone.”
Her head tilted slightly, but she didn’t speak.
“I’d fall asleep with the TV on. Old horror marathons, black-and-white creature-features, terrible practical effects. Those things never scared me. The shadows in my house did, but not the vampires or the zombies or the guys in bad werewolf suits.”
A corner of his mouth twitched.
“Guess I figured, if I knew the monster’s rules, I could beat the loneliness. Still works that way.”
She smiled softly. “That’s… actually kind of beautiful.”
He snorted. “Beautiful’s not usually the word people use when they’re talking about creepy dolls and cursed videotapes.”
“Yeah, well, maybe they’re missing the point.” She leaned back in her chair, studying him like she was trying to memorize the shape of this new piece of him. “It’s not really about the monsters, is it?”
He shook his head.
It wasn’t—not when he quit his job because the panic attacks and the silence in his apartment were eating him alive. Not when the quiet started to feel like another haunted place. Horror had rules. Real life was scary and chaotic.
And if he got to tell the stories, he got to control the chaos.
She let the moment breathe, then tipped her head with a slow, knowing grin. “So… are you gonna be a good boy while we work today?”
His relief was instant, even if he didn’t let it show. “That depends. You planning any more diversions?”
She laughed warmly, and just like that, the weight between them loosened, sliding back into the razor-edged banter he could handle.
Theo slid his chair closer to hers and positioned her knees between his. “Careful, Brooks. That laugh’s gonna make me think you’re enjoying yourself too much.”
She tilted her chin, feigning innocence. “And if I am?”
His gaze dipped to her mouth, then back up. “Then we’re about to get nothing recorded today.”
Theo let his hand rest on her chair, close enough that his knuckles brushed her thigh every time she shifted. Her perfume threaded between them, warm and heady enough to make him lean closer.
“Say the word, and I’ll give you another apology,” he murmured.
Maya smirked. “You mean the kind that ruins my lipstick?”
He huffed out a quiet laugh, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “Among other things.”
Her knee nudged his leg, a subtle dare. “Then you better start reading before I make you prove it.”
“Fuck, Maya…” he groaned.
“Nope,” she said, with a grin. “Remember, Teddy. Everything but.”
Theo’s jaw tightened, but his hand didn’t move from her chair.
“Everything but,” he echoed, like he was tasting the words. Testing how far they could stretch before breaking.
She leaned back, smug. “Good boy.”
That was the problem: he wasn’t feeling particularly good.
But he kept his hands to himself. They had work to do, and not much time to do it before they parted ways for their respective events.
He watched her leave the booth, his gaze trailing after her. When she settled with her laptop and slipped on her headphones, Maya shot him a pretty grin through the glass.
“Ready to record.”
“Give it to me,” he said into his mic.
Her smirk deepened as she leaned toward hers. “Chapter Twenty-Four.”