Chapter Eleven
Hazel
I managed to avoid running into Dante for the next few days, giving me some much-needed space to try to get my head on straight about my attraction to him.
Attraction, I decided, was involuntary. It was primal, chemical, some weird magic of the universe that defied logic or even preference.
It was why I’d known several guys who were perfect on paper, who were the exact right matches for me, but with whom there’d been no physical attraction—at least on my part.
Yet then there was that guy in the leather jacket who smoked—and I hated cigarettes—and barely had two brain cells to rub together, and I swear I nearly panted at the sight of him each time I came across him.
The problem with Dante was that there wasn’t just that spark; there was interest too. Because he was not only gorgeous, but he was a great son, brother, and uncle. He had fascinating interests and great vision when it came to his business and the renovations on his home.
If only I could be sure he was being honest with me.
With a grumble, I scrubbed harder at the side of the coffin. It wasn’t a decorative one, either. It was a genuine, full-sized coffin because one of our performers actually lay inside of it for the shift to jump out at random guests passing by.
I had no idea where the hell all this stuff was going to be stored once the Halloween season shifted toward Christmas and we had to transform the haunted house into Santa’s Workshop.
“Ugh, seriously?” I said as I found another wad of chewing gum, this time on the side of one of the skeletons.
People were gross.
Cleaning the haunted house wasn’t usually my job.
I’d just come to work early to meet with the guy dropping off more straw.
Then I’d gotten bored and decided to tackle the haunted house—both cleaning and sanitizing.
It seemed like everyone was dropping like flies with the flu lately, and I wanted to make sure our staff wasn’t constantly touching disease-ridden decor.
The whole space stank of lemon disinfectant. I’d even sprayed down the signs on the wall and all the faces of the creepy dolls.
I was just standing near the window we had covered with a sign claiming there was no exit when I heard voices that had my stomach tensing.
My gaze shot to the door, wondering if I should run in that direction to quickly lock it.
But I tamped down that desire, keeping my feet firmly planted in place, reminding myself that there were a lot of staff, and it wasn’t implausible to think some might show up early.
Besides, if they were thieves or something, there were plenty of places to hide inside the haunted house. There was so much clutter to escape behind.
And I had my phone.
I was okay.
“Getting fucking sick of this place, not gonna lie,” one of the voices said.
Annoyance immediately tracked up my spine, made my lip curl, ready to charge out there and tell them that if they were sick of it, they could find a new job.
“Did Dante give you any kind of end date?” the other voice replied.
So, not the performers or employees.
These were the guys who’d almost become background noise, since they’d been around endlessly.
They were always around, three or four of them at least every night.
When I did stop to think about them and their presence, all I could conclude was they only further confirmed my suspicions that Dante had been lying to me.
Why else would he feel the need to have some sort of…
security hanging about? Because what else could they possibly be?
They never actually did anything but walk around and watch the goings-on.
Clearly, they were on the lookout for something. Or someone.
Like the knife-wielding monster who’d mercilessly murdered someone in the woods.
I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop. But I found myself leaning closer to the closed window, glad that the men had deep voices that carried.
“Nope. Just told me it was until further notice. Fucking sick of it already. No action around here.”
Action?
What kind of action could they be talking about?
“I don’t mind getting paid to stand around and do nothing.”
“Not me. I’m losing my fucking mind. Wanna get back to the street. Fuck, I’d take the docks over this shit.”
The… docks?
Was he a dockworker?
Hadn’t Dante mentioned something about imports once? And goods were imported through ships at the docks.
It seemed like he’d just taken these guys off their normal jobs—maybe doing security work at the docks—to stand around here, doing nothing.
The streets didn’t make any sense to me, though. What street? What did they do to the street? Did someone in the Grassi family run some sort of paving company?
“It’s not so bad. Free coffee. Free food. Plus, got that hot chick in the sweater to look at.”
Well, that was kind of nice.
“Just look, though. You heard the boss,” the other guy said.
What’d Dante say? Or did they mean Domenico?
“Dunno. Might be worth the ass-kicking to get her under me.”
Okay.
That was more than enough.
Granted, all the guys Dante employed were attractive. But I didn’t want strangers thinking about me that way.
The men’s voices drifted as they moved further away.
I got back to my cleaning, wondering if the docks angle was something I could look into more.
I’d wrapped up my research into the dummies, concluding that if such a realistic, large-sized one existed, it cost a fortune and was sold only to people in the know.
Was it possible one of the Grassis was in the movie industry? Sure. Especially since I heard that a local military base had just been turned into a movie studio.
But still.
It wasn’t sitting right with me.
I wanted to look deeper into the Grassi family as a whole. And Dante in particular.
“Hello?” a voice called, making me jump so hard that I knocked over the creepiest of all the creepy dolls. Not one of the ones bought at the Halloween supply store. Oh, no. This was a vintage creepy doll that was likely some little kid’s toy at one point, before they realized it wanted their soul.
Its face was already cracked and glued back together, but I held my breath as I glanced down at it, hoping I hadn’t done any lasting damage.
“Hazel, what are you doing?” Dante asked as he made his way through the maze of creepy decor to reach me.
“Oh, uh, hey. What are you doing here?” I asked, shoving the creepy doll back into her spot, no worse for the wear.
“I was looking for Dom.”
“He’s not here.”
“Noticed that. What are you doing? Cleaning isn’t in your job description.”
“Not normally, no. But we’ve had four employees get the flu recently. I was just going around spraying everything—in case you didn’t smell the disinfectant.”
“Smells like home.”
“What?”
“My ma, when she used to change our beds when we were growing up, would spray the mattress with the yellow disinfectant before she put the fresh bedding on.”
“My grandmother did that too, but with lavender spray. She used to tell me it keeps the bugs away so we don’t swallow spiders in our sleep.”
“Great way to make sure a kid never sleeps again.”
“I know, right? I went through a phase where I slept with a cut-off leg of pantyhose over my face to prevent them from getting in my mouth or up my nose.”
“Gotta love that mild childhood trauma,” he said, shaking his head. “You know, I haven’t been through this.”
“The haunted house? Really?”
“I figured it wouldn’t be spooky now that I’ve seen it in the daytime.”
“It is. I mean, it’s scarier with the performers in here. But it’s definitely creepy even without them. Want to see?” I asked, bringing my cleaning supplies over toward the cleaning cart by the door and then pulling off my gloves.
“Sure, why not?” he replied.
“Go back to the entrance,” I said as I started flicking on the sounds and turning off the lights. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I turned off the last of the lights.
There was an eerie red glow up-lighting near the walls and some dim lights on the floor to prevent people from tripping. But as a whole, it was pretty dark inside.
Dante wasn’t even that far away, but I completely lost sight of him in the dark.
He also had the footsteps of a cat. I couldn’t hear him move around even with the creepy laughter and scream tracks coming from the hidden speakers.
So when hands grabbed my hips, a small shriek escaped me for just a second before Dante’s lips were on mine, silencing my surprise.
There was nothing explorative or unsure about this kiss. It was all lips and teeth and need.
Dante slammed me back against the wall as an eerie laugh reverberated through the walls and into my body.
I barely even noticed it as Dante’s hand went to the back of my neck, angling my head back so he could kiss me harder, deeper.
I was helpless but to grab his arms, to hold on as he stole the air from my lungs, my pulse stuttering, then sprinting forward.
His teeth nipped my lower lip, pulling until a low moan escaped me.
His free hand slid up under my sweater, his big fingers teasing over my ribs, my belly, then closing around one of my breasts, squeezing until I broke the kiss with a cry of pleasure as the heat burned through me.
His hand shifted from my neck to sift into my hair, fingers curling, then tugging until the pain/pleasure combination had me angling back, opening up my neck for his lips to explore.
A shiver racked my system as a scream erupted through the speakers.
Spurred on by my responses, Dante’s hand slipped into the cup of my bra, his bare hand teasing over my overly sensitive skin.
His hand squeezed.
His finger circled.
Then his thumb and forefinger rolled.
My hips rocked restlessly, the ache I’d been denying since the night in the office coming back and compounding.
Suddenly, Dante’s hands were moving, grabbing my hips, turning me, and pulling my back flush against his chest.
There was no hesitation before his hand slid down the front of my pants, into my panties, and teased up the center of me.
“So wet already,” he murmured against my ear, his tongue tracing the shell, then his teeth nipping the lobe.
There was no denying it.
Besides, I could feel his desire stabbing me through his slacks.
I may or may not have rocked my ass back against him.
I felt rather than heard the groan move through him.
His fingers slid down, teasing against the entrance to my body until I was rocking restlessly. Only then did his fingers slip inside me.
My walls tightened around him, making him groan. And thanks to the lapse in the soundtrack, this time I got to hear it.
The sound made my belly wobble as my hips did a little circle, desperate for friction, for an end to the clawing need deep inside me.
His fingers started to thrust then, and all thoughts left my mind. All that was left was touch, sensation, need.
Dante’s free hand slid up to gently curl around my throat as his teeth nipped my earlobe.
I could feel the movement of his lips against my ear but couldn’t make out the words he was saying as he drove me steadily up.
My hips rocked with his touch as my whimpers grew to moans that were quickly swallowed up by the sounds of the haunted house.
As my body arched and my walls tensed, Dante’s hand tightened around my throat.
There was a second of panic as my face felt a little fuzzy and warm, but then the orgasm crashed through me—intensified by the lack of oxygen to my brain.
My body shuddered, rocked, and shook.
I came back down slowly as Dante’s hand slid from my neck.
My heartbeat hammered against my ribs, my skin overheated, and my legs tingled.
Just as my mind started to remember why hooking up with Dante was a terrible idea, light filled the space as someone opened the door.
I sprang away from Dante, rushing forward toward my cleaning supplies on wobbly legs.
When I turned back after grabbing the cart, I found Dante’s gaze on me. As soon as he saw he had my attention, his fingers slowly slipped into his mouth, tasting me.
I swear I nearly came again right then and there.
The only thing saving me from completely humiliating myself was the fact that two of the workers came in, all loud voices and bright eyes.
I rushed past Dante, careful not to touch him again.
Because, really, what was wrong with me?
Once was one thing.
But twice, when I was pretty sure he was covering up a murder, was just crazy.
That was it.
I had to figure this out once and for all.
I needed to search the woods.