Chapter 8
Ash
The chase was real.
Jude wasn’t playing around. I could hear his footsteps on the metal grating behind me, way closer than they should have been. The guests were screaming, but I couldn’t tell if it was for me or for him or for the sheer adrenaline of watching two Hunters actually hunt.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I ducked around a corner, vaulted over a low barrier, and kept running. The strobe lights made everything disorienting, but I knew this maze. Knew every turn, every shortcut.
But so did Jude.
Fuck.
I could feel the thrill of everything singing through my veins, electric and dangerous.
Part of me wanted to keep running, wanted to prove I could stay ahead of him.
It would show him that I was faster than he was, younger than he was and better than he gave me credit for.
But the other part, the part that was already half-hard in my pants, wanted to slow down.
I wanted to see what he’d do when he caught me.
Because he was going to catch me.
The thought sent heat flooding through me.
Would he pin me down right here, in front of everyone?
Would he make good on that threat, turn me around and take back what I’d stolen from him in that corridor?
I knew he wanted to fuck me, and I’d used my size to take control and deny him.
To nail him instead and prove that I was his goddamn equal.
He’d loved every minute of it, but I could tell he was resentful.
I stumbled slightly, my boot catching on an uneven seam. It was enough. Jude’s hand snagged my vest and yanked me backward. I twisted free at the last second, adrenaline spiking, and threw myself into a roll that brought me back to my feet.
The crowd erupted.
Jude was right there. His eyes were wild, pupils blown wide, and his hair was everywhere, the ends curled against his collar and sticking to the paint across his forehead. He looked like he was desperate to devour me and fuck, I’d never wanted anything more.
I was out of my depth, and I knew it. I’d been obsessing over this man for months, built him up in my head until he became something larger than life, and now that I’d had him, I just knew I’d never get him out of my system.
And Jude? He’d probably forget about me the moment someone else caught his eye.
I was doing it again. Finding someone unattainable and pretending this time would be different.
Bad boys and shades of gray that hide their pain.
Jude was going to wreck me. I knew it. And still, I couldn’t bring myself to run. It was so much more fun to play the antagonist.
“Getting tired?” I chuckled, backing away.
“Not even close.”
He lunged. I dodged, barely, and then I bolted down another row of spooky set pieces.
We Hunters had zones. Designated areas where we were supposed to fight, where the choreography unfolded under the blood-red lights and smoke machines, all set to our own theme music.
Each sector had a stage or platform, places for the guests to gather and watch while the other scare actors prowled around them, building atmosphere.
Jude and I had abandoned all that two zones ago.
Now we were tearing through the entire park, and the guests fucking loved it.
They scattered when we came barreling through the fog, then turned to watch, phones out, capturing the madness.
The regular scare performers stepped aside, recognizing us, letting us pass.
One of them grinned and pointed in the direction Jude had gone, no doubt trying to skirt around me.
I flashed them a grateful nod and kept running.
My lungs burned. My cock throbbed. This was insane.
We were in public, surrounded by guests who had no idea that the tension between us was real.
That every move was infused with something raw and hungry, and that there’d be real stakes if he caught me.
They’re watching. Everyone’s watching, and thank fuck none of them knew how much I wanted Jude to catch me.
The realization should have sobered me up.
Instead, it made everything more exciting.
It made my skin feel too tight and my blood run hotter.
I could hear Jude behind me again now, relentless, and part of me wanted to just stop.
Just let him take me down. Take me. It was what I’d wanted long before I’d signed the employee contract here.
But pride and the sheer thrill of the chase kept me moving.
I rounded another corner too fast, and only then did I realize my mistake.
This wasn’t part of the generic scare zones. It was a different set with different lighting and performers.
Riley was in the middle of her routine, skating in tight circles around a terrified couple. The rest of her crew flanked the edges, playing their roles: laughing dolls with freaky, blood-splattered makeup, cupcake dresses, and baseball bats.
I’d just crashed their show.
Shit.
Professionalism kicked in hard. I skidded to a stop and forced myself to stay in character while turning my abrupt entrance into a part of the act.
Really, I just had to act like I’d been running from something and stumbled into the wrong territory, not like I was in the middle of some weird, animalistic and twisted flirting.
Riley’s eyes flicked to me, sharp and calculating. She didn’t miss a beat. Just grinned that unhinged grin and spun toward me like I was fresh prey.
“Lost, little hunter?”
Behind me, Jude emerged from the shadows.
He moved like smoke, all controlled aggression, and the crowd went fucking ballistic again.
He was always the favorite. Jude had that emo-goth-boy-who-could-kick-your-ass-and-hold-you-down aesthetic perfected, and half the damn crowd here were probably Instagrammers thirsting after the obvious trap.
Riley’s crew shifted to accommodate us, and suddenly we were all part of the same performance. Jude circled me slowly, eyes locked on mine, and I felt the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. I felt a phantom hand around my throat, and it made me want to drop to my knees and beg for more.
We played it up. Stalking each other, closing the distance, letting the tension build until it was almost unbearable. Then Riley shrieked, a sound that cut through everything, and the lights shifted.
That was our cue to fade and get the fuck out of her scene.
Jude melted into the smoke on one side. I backed off on the other, disappearing into the maze of set pieces. The crowd’s attention shifted fully to Riley and her routine, and I found myself pressed against a wall in the shadows, breathing hard.
My cock was straining against my pants. Rock hard and aching as I remembered the weight of Jude’s gaze on me. I could still hear his voice in my head.
Next time it’ll be you face first against a wall.
My hand drifted down without conscious thought, pressing against the bulge in my pants. I bit back a groan. This was so fucked. We were supposed to be working. Supposed to be professionals. He fucking hated me!
Instead, I was hiding behind a set piece with a raging hard-on, trying not to think about what Jude would do to me if he found me like this.
Trying not to think about how much I wanted him to.
***
I woke up hard.
Again.
The sheets were twisted around my legs, and my cock throbbed against my thigh, already leaking.
Even in the hazy stage of waking up, my mind was full of Jude. The weight of him when I’d tugged on his harness. The sounds he’d made when I’d pushed inside him. The way his pulse had hammered under my teeth when I’d clamped down on his throat, hard enough to mark him as mine.
Fuck.
I palmed myself through my boxers, squeezing, and the pressure only made it worse. I wanted to do it again. Wanted to hear Jude gasp my name while I fucked him into the concrete. But that wasn’t the whole truth, and I knew it.
I also wanted him to do the same to me.
I wanted him to turn the tables, pin me down, and make me take it. Make good on that threat he’d whispered when I’d had him pinned.
Next time it’ll be you face first against a wall.
I wanted him to do more than that. Worse than that. And then I’d give it all back to him tenfold.
My cock jerked as the fantasy intensified. I groaned and rolled onto my stomach, burying my face in the pillow and attempting not to acknowledge how my hips automatically rolled forward to hump the bed.
Last night had been insane. We’d torn through the entire park, breaking every rule Parker had laid out. Guests had filmed it. Riley’s crew had witnessed it. The whole thing was probably already trending on social media with hashtags I didn’t want to think about.
And then after closing, when the lights came up, and the crowds dispersed, I’d chickened out.
Jude had lingered in the changing room, still in costume, those dark eyes tracking me like he was waiting for something.
Waiting for me to acknowledge what we’d done.
What we’d almost done. But I’d grabbed my shit and bolted, drove home with black and white greasepaint still smeared across my face and my vest half-unbuckled.
Coward.
That’s what I was. So desperate for Jude that I could barely function around him, but too fucking scared to be alone with him when the performance was over. When it would be real.
I forced myself out of bed and into the shower, turning the water cold. It didn’t help. I was still half-hard when I got out, still wound tight with frustration and want.
The gym didn’t help either. I pushed through my usual routine, trying to burn off the tension, but every rep just made me think of Jude’s lean muscles, and how he was so much stronger than he looked.
I thought about the way those muscles flexed when he moved.
The way his ass had felt in my hands. The way it had quivered when I’d shoved inside his tight hole.