10. 8 Weeks Earlier – Halloween
10
8 WEEKS EARLIER – HALLOWEEN
SCOTT
T hey were fucking right. And I’m truly grateful to my old school friends for throwing this outrageous party.
Last time they dragged me to one, I’d dabbled. Who wouldn’t? But I didn't really get involved. Poor Will has always seemed disappointed I’m not some open-sex convert, fucking anything that moves.
But Ashley’s sincere appeal that I should lighten the fuck up and have some fun, struck a chord. And she’s spot on that the costume allows me to be a different version of myself. Even if just for tonight.
Since Angel arrived on the doorstep like some ethereal vision, I’m struggling to think of reasons not to have a night off from myself. Struggling not to just stalk her around the party, watching how fucking sexy she is as she moves. Her confidence is a fucking turn on.
I had to restrain my hands in my pockets in the drawing room just now, to stop me from reaching for her, from pulling her to me. Left her with no explanation. Just had to get away. I’m supposed to be helping out Will and Ash … and she’s supposed to be working, too.
Jeez, I need to do something to distract myself.
‘Dude, you need a break from the bar?’ I ask Ghost Face, the bartender for the night.
He nods, the tormented features on the black and white mask bobbing up and down in what I take to be relief at my offer.
Inserting myself behind the makeshift bar, I try to concentrate on serving people, rather than craning my neck to catch a glimpse of my angel. Filling orders and restocking the fridge like a machine.
Ghost Face returns before too long and tags back in with a high five.
I pour out some Patrón and restock my tray, then make my rounds of the rooms again, going slowly enough that people can grab one if they want. I track Angel down in the library, pink tongue poking between her teeth as she studies another one of Ashley’s flower arrangements.
The sight of her sends heat rushing south and I can’t help wondering, if she were a guest, would her wristband be green? I would fucking love a taste of her.
The tail of her wings brushes the hem of her dress, grazing the back of her thighs, and I wish it was my hand there instead, skimming across her soft skin. Up …
Angel crosses to the far side of the room and leaves through the other door. I follow at a distance, hypnotically drawn to the sway of her ass, her wings wafting back and forth.
She’s stopped. Dead still. Watching something — someone. I step closer to her, needing to know she’s okay.
Her gaze has fallen on a threesome. A woman is unbuckling a guy’s trousers and sliding them down his legs, kneeling in front of him. She’s wearing a tight strapless dress. A tattooed scripture of the letter ‘C’ embellished in flowers loops around her bicep, muscles moving as she gives his cock a pump. His white blond hair glints in the lighting under all the gel. He stands proud; the crook of a smile on his lips is almost animalistic. Another woman runs her hands down his body from behind, coming down into a squat.
From the side lines, I watch as Angel appraises the situation, observes the moment he thrusts his cock into the first woman’s mouth. My eyes flick to Angel to see if she’s into it. What I can see of her face is calm, it’s more as if she’s imprinting it to memory than getting off.
Am I into it?
The guy grabs at his head as the second woman runs her tongue down his backside, knocking his mask askew briefly. He straightens it as I avert my gaze back to Angel.
I’ve never been into watching people, but watching Angel on the other hand … I’m into that.
She moves away, leaving them to their fun, heading towards a couple chatting in the corridor who are holding empty glasses. She greets them with ease, serves them with a stunning beam and then is gone again.
She said she’d never been to anything like this before, but she’s taking it all in her stride. Unfazed. In fact, she’s more than that. She seems to be glowing from the experience.
Have fun , the words echo through my head again.
‘Like what you see?’ I whisper as I catch up with her studying yet another of Ashley’s erotic arrangements.
As I lean in close, the scent of coconut curls through the air, exotic but familiar. Stirring.
‘These displays are … fascinating,’ she whispers back, making my dick twitch. ‘I’m totally inspired.’ Her eyes are bright behind her mask.
‘Inspired, huh?’
‘I’m itching to draw it.’ Her excitement is palpable, as if she’s about to set off an adventure and it’s making me want to come along for the ride.
‘You like art?’ I have to know more about her.
She nods with enthusiasm, making her wings shimmy, their rhythm mesmerising.
‘Maybe take a look at Apollo’s gallery.’ Maybe I could show you. ‘He has quite the collection.’
‘Of art?’
‘Erotic art.’ Her eyes widen, teeth running over her bottom lip as if her interest has been well and truly piqued. ‘And photographs.’ Shit, the way she’s hanging off my words makes me say things I probably shouldn’t. ‘He even has a George Grosz.’
‘Oh my God!’
I shrug channelling nonchalance, but secretly loving how rapt she is. ‘He tells everyone it’s a good copy, but it isn’t.’
‘So, you know about art?’
‘Told you. I know about a lot of things,’ I repeat with an easy-going shrug, hoping she doesn’t test me on that. ‘I could show you now?’ I offer a hand out to her.
Fucking bold of me.
Her eyes slide up my arm and she rolls her lips as if she’s torn over whether to accept.
‘I’ll have to explore after my shift.’ She lifts her tray a little and flashes me a blinding grin, before sidling off to the next group.
I watch her go. Watch her curves as she walks away from me, admonishing myself. I should really only be admiring her work ethic.
Following her at a distance through the rooms, I’m only half-aware of people taking glasses from my tray. My vision trained on Angel like she’s my prey. As she glides between groups of people, her blood red hair shines in the candlelight. Her silky costume hugs her, leaving my imagination to short circuit.
She moves so gracefully, smiling as she serves. It’s as if she’s radiant — easily the most beautiful person here. So vibrant. So full of life and possibility. I feel a twinge in my chest. Perhaps someone as old and jaded as me shouldn’t taint her.
Wait . How old is she?
Must be over eighteen, or she wouldn’t be here.
Definitely younger than me.
But twenty-nine’s not old, even if I make it look that way.
Well, I take a deep breath, not tonight.
Being near her makes me want to shine too, like I’m the moon and she is the sun. Ashley had said “lighten up.” Near Angel, I feel like I could fucking glow.
A guest places an empty glass on my tray, and I blink out of my daze. Good thing it’s a nice crowd and there’s no trouble tonight. Can’t say my head is a hundred percent in the game. The drinks are all gone again. Reluctantly, I head back to get refills, not wanting to tear myself away from her.
Angel’s moved to another room and it takes me a while to track her down. Then I see her. Her dainty hands are straightening her mask in the mirror. Her bright eyes lock on to me, challenging.
A magnetic pull draws on my cock. Like a freaking divining rod. Thoughts of exactly how I’d peel her costume off fill my brain, making me have to adjust my jeans.
A wry smile creeps out underneath her mask as she holds my gaze.
Like she knows that I can’t keep my eyes off her, that I’m following her.
Her self-assurance is hot, and the way she’s kind of smug — playful — makes me want to chase her down, pin her under me, press her knees apart with my own as I invade that cherry mouth with my tongue …
She swirls away, offering her tray to another group. I tip my head to the side, enjoying the silhouette she’s cutting from behind.
I follow her into a common area, and people are getting down to business. At the side of the room, a couple are kissing on a sofa, urging each other’s costumes off, while two other couples are watching. Angel discretely offers the tray of tequila out to some observers. Her nails, a shiny silver, glint in the light and I suddenly wonder what they’d look like wrapped around my dick. What her red hair would look like fisted in my grip.
Drawn to Angel, I keep watching. I can’t keep away. Lust coils with a pang of guilt. I should really be helping out more than I have.
But maybe not for too much longer.
Will did insist he wanted me to participate.
Noticing some champagne flutes are nearly empty, I rush off to replace the empty bottle in the ice bucket with one straight from the fridge, eager to get as much done as possible before I can clock off guilt-free. Apparently, after a few hours, people are usually too busy fucking to need much, and you don’t want guests too drunk, or consent becomes dubious. A glance at my watch shows that time is near.
I complete my final sweep. Everyone’s drinks are topped up, bottles have been left on ice. Masks are still in place, but several layers of costumes have been discarded as the players get absorbed in the party. Will would be insisting I go enjoy myself right about now, if he wasn’t balls deep in whatever he was up to upstairs.
Angel has moved again when I return, but then I see her, studying another bunch of flowers intently. That tempting pink tongue sticking out between her teeth. She does this when she concentrates, it seems.
She doesn’t hear me approach.
‘Did you ever find any sweets?’ I murmur.
She stiffens in surprise, then turns to me with a coy expression. ‘No. Do you have intel?’
I give a waggle of my brows, which feel heavy under Ashley’s make-up. A reminder that it’s okay to be another version of me.
‘I have my theories.’ I have shit, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.
Her lips purse together and I realise I fucking hate these masks. I want to see her whole face.
‘I should probably keep working. I’m not being paid to eat sweets.’
‘Shift’s over.’
She seems to catch herself at that, and her eyes dart around the room.
‘Everything okay?’ I ask.
‘Where’s Apollo?’
‘He was entertaining guests in the sitting room a while ago.’ I check my watch again. ‘He’s probably in one of the rooms upstairs by now, though.’
She winces.
‘ Shit. Your pay. I promised you I’d sort it.’ Obnoxious of me to have let it slip my mind the moment the first guest arrived.
It dawns on me that I’d seen Will with an envelope earlier. He’s probably left her pay packet up in their bedroom. The one room closed off to guests.
‘I’ve got an idea where he’s left it.’ I pick my words carefully. She’s too intriguing to miss an opportunity to get to know her a little more on the way. Holding out my hand to her, I say, ‘Now, you have to come on a tour with me. It’s the only way you’ll find your money.’
Twisting her lips together in a smile, she takes a beat, and then reaches out for my hand.
‘Let’s go.’ My voice sounds strange as it comes out like a growl. This version of me is starting to get carried away. And I don’t want to stop him.
It would be foolish to take her straight to where I’m pretty sure her pay is. Not when I’m supposed to be having fun. Not when this might be my only chance to get to know her a bit better — perhaps introduce her to the other side of this party.
Locking her fingers into mine, a warmth runs up my arm. I weave her through the house the long way, enjoying the way her delicate hand is captured in mine. She doesn’t pull away.
We pass a couple pressed up against a wall. Pass an open door to where there’s a writhing mass of bodies on the other side.
We go into the study and it’s blissfully empty. The large desk and leather studded chair look invitingly sturdy — suitable for any sort of business deal. An image of Angel laying back on the desk flits through my head.
The murmur of the party fades as I shut the door behind us.
She lets go, stepping away to study the enlarged photo hung on the wall. A black and white of Will and Ashley; she’s naked, wrapped around him. He’s gripping her ass, fingers digging in hard. The faces are cut off at the mouth, hers thrown open in a gasp. I only know it’s them because of Will’s tattoo across his chest. And that Ashley wouldn’t be happy to have anyone else up on the wall.
Her focus is riveted on the portrait. ‘That’s beautiful.’
You’re beautiful.
She cocks her head to one side. ‘Stirs the soul.’
I cough to clear my throat. ‘Did you find the gallery earlier?’
‘Not yet.’
I cross the room to the desk, my eyes zoning in on some hidden treasure. ‘Money’s not here, I’m afraid. But I did find this.’ Turns out, I’ve not taken her on a wild goose chase after all. I brandish a lollipop in the air, pulled from a bowl on the desk.
Angel rushes across the room with a giggle. ‘Are you serious? You actually found me sweets?’
She stops short, chest heaving, eyes dancing with excitement. I lean back on the desk and hold the lolly out to her, but then pull it back, just out of reach as she makes a grab for it.
‘Don’t you need to say something first?’
‘Huh?’ Her lids narrow behind the mask.
‘Isn’t there a certain catchphrase you’re supposed to use on Halloween?’ I lower my voice. ‘Before you take sweets from strangers?’
She rolls her lips together, eyes steady on mine. I imagine her eyebrow to be arching over her topaz eyes, and she takes a second before she says, ‘Trick or Treat?’
Rubbing at my chin, I pretend to think about it. She bites down on her lip and it’s a struggle not to groan.
I take a deep breath in and out before I reply, ‘Trick.’