CHAPTER FOUR
LILA
The heat in his gaze locks me in place, pinning me like prey beneath a predator’s stare. There's something about those eyes - the color, crystal blue, and their devastatingly unforgettable quality.
They feel familiar… but where have I seen them before?
My breath stutters. My heart hammers so violently, I swear he can hear it. My eyes widen in panic, the heat of humiliation crashing over me like a wave I can’t outrun. He sees it. He knows. I slap a hand to my forehead, desperate to hide the shame already written across my face.
What the hell is wrong with me?
And yet… his expression isn’t what I expect. The phantom isn’t shocked. Not angry. Not mortified. Not disgusted… If anything, he looks entertained.
Should I apologize? And ruin their moment… probably not the best idea, Lila.
His eyes trail over me, taking in every inch as if he were savoring the view. It’s an unspoken, seductive dare pulsing between us. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t pull away from her. Doesn’t act embarrassed, unlike me. His stare lingers like a touch, slow and ravenous.
“That’s it… suck my cock like the filthy slut you are.” He growls, the rough demand slicing through the dark.
I can’t help but gasp at the vulgar words spilling from his mouth, but something about them, something in the way he says it, makes me like it. She’s the one on her knees, doing the work, yet his eyes never leave mine, like every sinful word is meant for me.
My thighs clench. A spark ignites low in my belly, and the need building between my legs swells into something so intense, it feels almost dangerous.
His jaw flexes, the sharp cut of it tightening as he thrusts deeper into her mouth.
His leather-gloved hand fists her hair, controlling her every movement.
But he’s not looking at her. He’s looking at me.
Why do I feel like I’m the one being touched, when it’s her body under his hands?
This is wrong. So fucking wrong.
My fingers twitch against my thigh, but I refuse to move. I refuse to be that girl. The one who comes undone from just a look. But that damn tattoo has a grip on me, a chokehold I can’t shake.
Ugh… I want to kiss his neck, to trail my lips down to the sweat-glazed curve of his chest where the ink lies. And then my body betrays me.
My fingers brush over the swell of my breasts, lingering like they’re waiting for permission.
But none comes. Still, they keep moving.
Lower. Slower. Bolder. Each breath quickens as they trace over my ribs, skimming the curve of my waist, until they find the edge of my thong. I hesitate, just for a second.
Then I slip beneath the lace, my fingertips trembling as they make contact. A slow, aching circle. Then another. Desperate. Relentless. I bite back a moan. No. You can’t, Lila… But I can’t stop.
I match him. Stroke for stroke. His chest rises and falls in sync with mine, the strain etched into every tense muscle, every slow, deliberate breath.
“Fuck, that’s it. I like when you do that,” he grits out, his grip tightening as his hips snap forward, thrusting harder, rougher.
A strangled gasp catches in my throat. I can’t see him fully, but from the way she reacts, from the wet, obscene sounds filling the room, I can picture exactly how big he must be.
And the thought sends a fresh wave of heat pulsing between my legs.
I bet he’d fit perfectly inside me.
His ice-blue gaze pierces straight through me, darkening and sharpening as he drinks me in, like he’s memorizing every detail. The way my other hand skims along my body. The way my breathing shudders with every needy movement.
I shouldn’t want this. But I do. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.
The coil inside me tightens, pleasure building to an unbearable peak. A soft moan escapes my lips before I can stop it, swallowed by the music thudding through the speakers. But he hears.
Oh, he hears. And he likes it.
His smirk curves slow and wicked, his body tensing as his pace quickens. His moan turns into a growl, low and sultry, as he finally lets go and comes undone right in front of me. And I fall with him.
My release slams into me so hard my knees nearly buckle, my thighs trembling as wetness pools between them. My body pulses, every nerve alight, the pleasure so overwhelming I forget how to breathe.
For a few blissful seconds, I float in the aftershock, caught in a haze of euphoria and disbelief. Then, reality slaps me in the face.
What the hell did I just do?
My stomach lurches, mortification crashing over me like a tidal wave. I yank my hand out of my underwear, frantically smoothing my dress, my braid, anything to feel human again. From across the room, he laughs.
Not loudly. Not mockingly. But a small, knowing chuckle slips past his lips,as if he’s just won some silent game I didn’t even know we were playing.
My jaw drops.
Did he… laugh at me? Excuse me?
Embarrassment flares up my neck. My eyes narrow. My nostrils flare.
Oh hell no.
I roll my eyes, spin on my heel, and bolt. My heart is pounding, my face on fire, and I can still feel his eyes on me like he branded me with that smirk.
What was I thinking? Watching him and touching myself. God, I’m never showing my face again. I need air. I need out. Now. And the fact we did that… without even touching? No. Nope. Absolutely not. What the hell is wrong with me? He laughed. He actually laughed. What an absolute dick. But…
God, the way he looked at me. Like he owned every inch of me with those gem-like eyes. No. Stop it. He’s a stranger. A cocky masked stranger who gets off on being watched. This isn’t me. I don’t do this. I’m leaving. I’m forgetting this ever happened, I have to… right?
The endless hallway of doors blur as I rush out, my pulse still erratic, my body still humming from what just happened. But even as I leave, one thought lingers in my mind, stubborn and taunting.
I liked it, and so did he. And honestly… I have a feeling this isn’t over.
Practicallyfleeingthrough the hallway and down the stairs, Imiss the last stepand crash onto the cold marble floor.
Maybe I’m losing it. Maybe that didn’t just happen, and the severe panic attack made me hallucinate the whole thing. That can happen… right?
Pain jolts through my tailbone as I sit mulling over my thoughts.“Ow! Son of a ….” I hiss, wincing. I groan, pressing my palms against the slick surface,my dignity officially in shambles. “This nightcannotget any worse,” I mutter under my breath as I stand on my shaky legs.
“Lila, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere! They’re about to start the game out back!”
“Hell no. Nope. I’m done for tonight. I’m calling an Uber.” I huff, still trying to steady myself.
“But if you’re the first one to make it through, the owner will grant you any wish!” Aster says, helping me to my feet. “Come on, you have to do it with me! It’ll be so much fun!”
I roll my eyes as she grabs my hand, pulling me toward the back doors.“What is he, a genie?”
Aster grins. “More like a devil. No one’s ever actually won.”
Beyond the pool, in a sprawling field, rises a fifty-acre hedge maze. It’s massive and threatening, like something ripped straight out of the Goblet of Fire. Above the entrance, a large white sign drips with blood-red paint, each letter oozing like fresh wounds:
HAUNTED MAZE
ENTER IF YOU DARE.
I grab two shots from a passing waitress and throw them back immediately, hoping the burn will wash away the lingering heat still pulsing through my body. News flash… It doesn’t.
“Well, I called it. I’ve already died from embarrassment tonight, and this is my funeral,” I mutter.
Aster cackles, looping her arm through mine. "Funeral or not, you’re still going in." The cold night air bites at my skin as we step outside.
Thank goodness. I need to cool off after what just happened.
The towering hedges loom ahead, fog spilling from the ground, curling around my ankles, and in the distance, flickering lanterns barely cut through the shadows.
A shiver crawls down my spine. It’s not from the chill but something else.
It’s part thrill, part fear. Part of the night itself.
But then… A feeling. The same one I had upstairs.
That unsettling pull, like I’m not alone.
Like those ice blue eyes are slicing through the dark, finding me again.
My breath catches, each heartbeat pounds harder than the last. I don’t know where he is, or who he is, but I can feel him.
His presence coils around me like smoke, thick, smothering, impossible to ignore.
I take a step toward the maze, and something inside me awakens.
He’s here. Somewhere in the dark. Watching. Waiting. Hunting.
Or maybe he was never here. And perhaps the monster I felt breathing down my neck… was me. And I’m just compartmentalizing my anxiety.