Chapter 4
The path through the trees is lit by hanging lanterns. The gravel crunches under our feet and walking in heels is difficult. I have to watch the ground to make sure I don’t trip. Yep, I’m an idiot. I mentally curse myself until we enter a clearing.
The house isn’t one of those cheesy haunted mansions you see at carnivals.
It appears to be a genuine abandoned house.
Broken windows line the front with scraps of old wood slapped over the openings.
Any unbroken windows are dirty, and the yard is a jungle of knee-high weeds.
It has a slanted porch with damaged railings that has seen better days.
The warped siding was once blue, but now it’s mostly stripped of paint and chipped.
This is not what I was expecting. What the fuck sort of janky business is this?
We’re greeted outside by a woman in her early twenties dressed in a fairy costume with an apron tied around her waist. The semi-normal Halloween costume eases some of my concerns.
Her “Hello!” is perky, and she eyes our costumes. “A hippie and a bunny. You must be here for Chris.”
I glance sharply at her as Lucas replies, “Yep.”
Lucas hands her our tickets, and she slides them into a pocket of her apron with a wide smile. “You can head in. Chris said he would find you inside.”
Lucas thanks the fairy, and we walk towards the house. Apprehension looms over me with each unsteady step. What are we doing here? This doesn’t seem like fun times. He holds my hand to help me across the porch and I hold my complaints, trying to keep an open mind.
The door is wide open, the inside dark. My heart beats double time, and I want to turn around. I’m doubting Chris is worth this. I hate scary things. A funhouse would have been so much better.
As soon as we pass the threshold, we’re immediately hit with a waft of stale air. A wall blocks the path straight in front of us and a crooked sign hangs on the wall with a double-sided arrow that states, “Pick a direction.”
Lucas grins at me. “You choose.”
Sure, give me the choice between two evils, so when something bad happens, it’s my fault.
I shake off the thought as unworthy. Lucas is many things, but he’s never set me up for anything unpleasant.
I tip my head and take all of two seconds before tugging him to the left.
I read somewhere that if given an option, most people choose right.
Ever since then, I made it a point to go left.
If fucked up shit was going to go down in a haunted house, something told me it would be to the right.
I haven’t been to many haunted houses, but this one isn’t like any of them.
I was expecting amusement park spooky music and ghosts booing and swinging out at me, but none of that happens and it’s creeping me out.
They wouldn’t charge if nothing happens, so I get more anxious by the second.
My writers’ imagination is having a field day and I’m hating every step.
We walk through a short, dirty hallway with cobwebs lining the ceiling.
Ewww, they’re real.
Sticky webs line the top of the walls, and I press closer to Lucas’s side. Movement out of the corner of my eye has me peering at the webbing. Shit, I think there’s something up there. I swear I see something black and small moving fast behind the white wisps.
Oh, hell no!
We need to leave. A shiver runs down my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up while I fight the urge to scratch all over. If a spider dropped on me, it could easily slide right down my cleavage. Yeah… this isn’t sexy scary and was a bad idea. Bad, bad idea. Terrible. The worst ever.
Somehow I keep moving. The end of the hall opens up to a creepy-ass nursery.
The walls are half-covered with ripped and faded wallpaper, and the room is full of broken furniture.
A rocking chair in the corner moves on its own.
The sound of a baby crying fills the space.
I grip Lucas’s hand tighter and stumble into him.
It’s faint and the echoes give it an eerie tone. I take deep breaths.
Chill out, Jessica. It’s a recording. None of this is real.
Lucas holds my arm and I about jump straight in the air when the crib shakes. The baby blanket on the mattress balloons as if there’s now a baby underneath it.
“This is scary,” I moan-whisper to Lucas and keep a death grip on his hand.
His presence is the only thing keeping me from screaming and running out of here. The ghostly cry continues, louder and stronger, and the crib shakes furiously until the mattress bounces and the legs clatter against the floorboards. Um, yeah, it might be time to nope the fuck out of here.
When the rocking chair speeds up, I yank Lucas towards the door on the opposite wall.
He gives no resistance as we scurry out of the fucked-up nursery.
My anxiety eases slightly once we’re in another short hallway.
There are three doors at the end in a T pattern, so we’ll have to choose our direction again.
I’m soooo making Lucas pick this time, so I can blame him if something goes wrong.
We pause at the end and look into the room straight ahead. It’s an old timey kitchen, which reassures me for a moment. Then I look up. Knives hang from the ceiling, dangling above the path leading to the doorway on the other side. Okay, that’s an enormous hell no. Yep, I’m done here.
Turning to Lucas, I open my mouth to tell him we’re leaving, when something from the right-hand doorway grips my arm and yanks me into the room. The door slams shut. I scream, and a warm hand covers my mouth, muffling my cries.
A werewolf holds me captive while I tremble and blink to clear my vision.
I stop screaming as tiny details come into focus.
It’s really a dude in a costume — not that I think werewolves are real.
He’s wearing ripped jeans and combat boots, but from the waist up, he’s furry with a full mask that obscures his face.
The costume is good quality, and if I saw him in the woods, I’d run for it.
I mean, hell, I’m about ready to run for it right now.
My stomach muscles tighten and blood rushes in my ears. The hand against my mouth is very much human, but a fake wolf’s paw covers the backside and attaches with elastic around his palm. If his arms were at his side, he’d look as if he had furry hands with claws.
A mental image of me fucking a werewolf pops into my head and my heart hammers again, but excitement ripples through me as well. Ms. Kitty buzzes a little and I feel the heat of a blush on my face. Huh, okay. I’m not hating this idea.
When he removes his hand, he steps back and examines me quietly. Shit, am I supposed to say something?
My throat is dry, and I swallow so I can speak. “You’re Chris?”
This better be Chris. Otherwise, I’m going to scream Bloody Mary again.
The werewolf nods. His voice is gruff. “Now is your chance to run away.”
Run away? The decision hangs in the air for a moment.
Now that I’ve got my bearings and I know this is Chris, that tempting, delicious, forbidden lust burns through me and my nipples harden. God, is it fucked up that I’m getting turned on by this?
Shame and desire war inside my brain. I want him to fuck me savagely until I can’t think. A delicious shudder ripples through me at the thought of us rutting like wild beasts. Oh yeah, I want this. I suppress a grin. Somehow Lucas knew and arranged it.
Stepping closer to him, I give him a sultry smile. “Do your worst.”
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Lust zings straight to my pussy and I get a slutty, naughty thrill. I’m getting off on this way more than I would have thought.
The werewolf nods but doesn’t speak as he steps closer. He twists me around and shoves me against the nearest wall, smashing my breasts against the rough plaster.
I gasp, “Oh,” as he yanks down the zipper of my costume.
Shit, I guess we’re starting. I had a few scenarios in my head of how tonight might play out, and being used by a werewolf wasn’t one I considered. I mean, it’s awesome, but still…
A thud on the floor startles me and I glance down. The werewolf mask’s empty eyes stare at me. Uh oh. In every horror movie I’ve watched, if you see the evil guy’s face, you’re a goner. This better not be a horror erotica movie.
Despite how fucked up this is, the hint of danger is turning me into a needy mess. Wet heat flares between my legs and I imagine myself on my knees, sucking his cock. A terrible hunger crawls into my brain and I want to beg him to use me however he wants.
Chris yanks the top of my costume down, exposing my breasts to the cool air.
He tugs the fabric over my curvy hips until it drops to the floor.
I step one foot out so I don’t get tangled in it and trip.
Removing that one piece leaves me naked, since I’m not wearing panties or a bra.
Ms. Kitty gets even wetter at the harsh treatment as wild, raw need flutters in my core.
When he grinds against my ass and my nipples scrape the plaster, I moan from the intense pleasure-pain. He’s nice and hard through his jeans, and a switch flips in my brain. Everything is now erotic instead of scary. I’m loving every minute of this.
I moan as he kisses the back of my neck and rasps, “Has a werewolf ever bred you?”
My brain freezes for a split second.
Holy fuck.
I’m not in a horror movie. This is one of my motherfucking novels. Or nearly so. It would have been vampire breeding if I wrote it, but you can bet your ass I’m going to write a filthy werewolf story after this.
I moan loudly. “No, I haven’t.”
He brings his hands around to my breasts and tugs on my nipples. He continues to rub against my ass and the friction of his jeans increases my need to have a cock inside me.
No one said I had to pretend to fight, and I’d rather play easy to get. “Mmmm, I’m ready for breeding.”