3. Micah
WELCOME TO THE PARTY
It’s when I’m pulling to a stop in front of the valet tent that I notice the black Victorian home looks familiar.
For as long as I can remember, it’s sat vacant on a run-down lot behind a massive iron gate kids braver than my scary ass liked to jump when we were growing up.
They’d convinced themselves the house was haunted, and the rumor was all the proof I needed to keep my distance. That and the graveyard a few yards away from the back door.
Who in their right mind is comfortable with a graveyard as their backyard?
A rueful smile touches my lips at the irony of me being here now.
I’d never met them, but the people who used to live here were referred to as the Black Addams family.
Until they disappeared in the mid 90s without explanation, leaving all their belongings and cars behind.
Some speculated about witness protection. Others let their imagination run rampant and said they were vampires fleeing to their next post. For the longest time, it sat untouched, a true time capsule of 90s dark gothic elegance.
Until two years ago when it was rumored to be bought by a secret society. The Lost Petal or Lost Rose or something.
Shaking the thoughts away, I text my sister that I’ve arrived and make sure my location is set to share even if my battery dies at some point tonight. Then I let the valet who opens my door help me out of my Honda and onto the walkway.
There’s a black velvet carpet rolled out from the porch down the walkway leading to the house, and I step onto it with a small smile.
“This is nice ,” I mutter under my breath as I reach the end, eyeing the black and red rose petals scattered along the carpet. I was expecting fake cobwebs or pumpkins, but the grown and sexy vibes are dope too.
“I’m glad you like it.”
A shiver runs through me as I stare at the woman who materialized out of thin air. She’s about five-three, at least six inches shorter than me and dressed in all black, holding an iPad as a smile flirts with her matte black lips.
“Shit.” I clutch my chest. “You scared me, I didn’t see you.”
“My apologies.” She inclines her head, studying me with a placid expression until my hand falls away from my chest.
Her smile blooms before she greets me again. “Welcome to Midnight Manor, Ms. Shaw. My name is Ladasia. We hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us.”
“How do you know my name?”
A quiet laugh shakes her shoulders. “The moment you showed your invitation at the gate, I was notified.”
Oh.
Stop acting scary, Micah.
Right there in front of the house, I let her walk me through all the basics. She confirms my STI results and tells me I’m cleared to participate in all the rooms the manor has to offer.
“The first floor is simply for mingling. The second and third floors are for play. There are a few scare actors walking around, but if you’d like a no jump scare bracelet, I can give you one for your left wrist.”
“No, that’s okay.”
“Very good.” She reaches under the podium she’s behind and lifts three different wristbands. One black, one white and one red. “Now let me walk you through the differences and you tell me which one you’d like tonight.”
I listen as she tells me black means I’m open to all in attendance— singles, couples and polycules. White means I only want to watch. And red means I’m only open to engage with the other singles.
Knowing damn well I want whoever I end up with tonight focused solely on me, I request red and hold out my arm while Ladasia secures it around my right wrist.
A shiver sneaks up on me at the feel of her soft hands on my skin, but I tell myself it’s only because it’s been so long since someone else touched me.
I’m so damn starved for affection a routine interaction feels like foreplay.
Clearing my throat, I cut off my self deprecating thoughts. “I’m not a member of Midnight Social, which means someone else invited me,” I hedge.
Ladasia returns to her post behind the black podium, beaming at me.
“That’s right.” Her eyes flick down to her tablet. “Would you like to know which of our platinum members invited you?”
“Was it Desmond Grantham?”
Lord knows, Desmond “my mom lives with me not the other way around” Grantham damn sure ain’t shelling out almost four grand a month for Midnight Social. But just to be sure…
The woman in front of me hikes her brow. “No ma’am. I?—”
Not letting her finish, I hold up my palm. “As long as it wasn’t him, I’m good. I like not knowing.”
“As you wish, Ms. Shaw.”
Next she tells me where I can find the lockers on the first floor of the house to stow my belongings.
“Your safety is just as important as your pleasure to us, Ms. Shaw.” Her nails tap around on the iPad screen.
“Should you need them, please note that in every room the dispenser for dental dams is black and the one for condoms is red. Packets of lube can be found on gold trays near the other dispensers.”
“Got it.”
Her dark eyes twinkle. “Face cloths and full sized towels are also stocked in each room. If you need more, all you have to do is press the call button near the light switch and someone will be happy to bring you more.”
Nodding, I try to keep track of the information dump as excitement dances in my veins. Dental dams, black . Condoms, red . Towels…
My thoughts trail as a man wearing a Jack-o-lantern mounted on his wide shoulders saunters past the welcome station.
He’s clearly not a newbie since he doesn’t get stopped.
The confidence in his stride and the definition of his muscles has my jaw dropping before I can help myself.
Shirtless, with low slung black pants, his rich brown skin stands out in the moonlight as he walks over the threshold.
Good God.
I don’t even know what this man looks like, and I’m already a second away from drooling. Bass spills into the night air and vibrates through my body before the door shuts behind him.
“Who is that?” I whisper more to myself than Ladasia, but she answers me anyway.
“He’s one of our regulars. I can’t tell you his name, but maybe you two will get to know each other inside.”
Just then, another shirtless man wearing a black skull mask walks out the front door, pausing for a second as he considers me then walks down the steps.
More music saturates the night air and I swear, he’s walking to the beat.
He’s not as tall as the last guy, but his physique is just as tempting. He’s built like a middle linebacker, and all I can do is stare until Ladasia clears her throat.
My eyes snap back to her. “Sorry.”
“That’s what you’re here for,” she says with an indulgent lift of her lips. “Let me make sure you’re familiar with the traffic light system so you can get inside, yeah?”
The heartbeat between my thighs is a vicious thing while I force myself to listen dutifully.
“This is a kink-friendly party, and while all attendees have been screened and are existing members of Midnight Social, we urge newcomers like you to exercise caution when engaging in play. Enthusiastic consent is not a suggestion, it’s a requirement.
Once that’s established, the rest is up to you.
To keep things consistent, we use the traffic light system of green, yellow and red during all forms of play here at Midnight Social. ”
A few minutes later when I walk into the house, I’m immediately hit with “What You Need” by The Weeknd pulsing through the speakers as my eyes adjust to the smoky fog settled over the first floor.
As I turn to find the lockers, a solid wall of muscle bumps into me before I can take a step in that direction.
“My fault, beautiful.” Strong arms reach out to steady my stumbling steps.
I don’t have a rebuttal. Because apparently, forming words is tricky when there’s a man in front of me, all six feet something and over 250 plus pounds of him covered in a Sailor Moon costume that looks better on him than it would ever look on me.
The tree trunks he has cosplaying as thighs have me blinking through a haze of indecent thoughts because the blue skirt of his costume is really just a garnish for the sheer size of his defined quads.
How is he real, and why does he look so good pulling his gloves back up his thick forearms?
Shit, am I into this?
The riotous thumping in my chest says yes . Hell yes, at that.
Like he can read my mind, he gives me a wolfish grin from behind his red mask and steps out of my path so I can finally get to the personal lockers.
Oh, tonight’s gonna be fun.