8. Casper
I’ve never been so goddamn excited and turned on. She wants me to find her in a twisted game of hide-and-seek, which is exactly what I intend to do. I knew tonight was going to be magical, but this is even better than I imagined.
She’s awoken a lot of new desires and cravings inside of me.
Although maybe they were always there, but she’s the key to setting them free.
Regardless, she’s begging for me to give her everything I’ve got, and I can’t wait to feel her come undone while wrapped around me.
The anticipation has been eating me alive, but the wait is finally almost over.
She’s my Scaredy-Cat, but she’s got claws of her own, and I want them tearing down my back, carving her possession into my skin while I do the same to hers.
A hand pats my shoulder as I right myself and turn back to our group.
Bates nods sharply, and his voice cuts through the music as he says, “I’ve got the crew. Go have fun with your girl.”
I didn’t need his permission; I was leaving them regardless. But I two-finger salute them all and spin on my heel, my heart racing harder than ever as I stride in the direction she went.
She wants this, and knowing that she’s as dark and twisted as I am does something to the chemistry in my brain. It’s making me feral, and I want nothing more than to leave my marks all over her … handprints on her ass, bite marks on her shoulders, hickeys on her neck and tits.
I want my fucking name branded on her skin, with my cum that she elicited, with permanent ink. I want it all. I want her. In every imaginable way.
“In My Head” by Alfie Castley pulses, the deep bass thumping through the sound system installed in the house. He sings about his head being a nightmare that he can’t escape and ghosts that live in his mind.
He may be referencing anxiety or negative thoughts. But I interpret the song in a much different way. I have the dark part of my mind, the one I’ve always kept at bay, outside of unleashing the demon on the ice from time to time, when he needs a little exertion.
I thought I had to keep these desires hidden. Shame always accompanied them. I felt like I was insane for the things I craved in a relationship and in the bedroom. But with her, I have no shame or cage. I’m free, just like she is. And if I’m insane, then I’m glad she’s just as unwell.
My head is on a swivel as I scan the room and pause on every Ghostface mask until I quickly rule out that it’s not her before continuing deeper into the crowded room. This entire place is packed tonight, and chasing directly after her is going to take too long.
I need to play this smarter. I’m not wasting time running in circles when my tongue could be doing that against her fucking clit. My mouth waters when I think of tasting her, committing every moan and breathy gasp elicited to my memory.
Where would my Scaredy-Cat run?
My boots, matching her Doc Martens, stomp on the ground as I clear the first floor, double-checking at least five Ghostface masks to be absolutely sure she isn’t hiding underneath.
I can’t help but chuckle every time I spot one, thinking of her calling it the cliché masked man.
In its defense, Ghostface is a cult classic.
There’s a reason so many people dress up as one of the infamous fictional killers every year, and that’s because it’s loved by so many.
It can be cliché and badass at the same time.
I knew before my hand pulled each mask back that she wasn’t beneath it. I’d have felt her if she was, the tension between us palpable and thick in the air.
When I find her, I’ll know it’s her without a shred of doubt.
My mind runs rampant, trying to figure out her next steps.
Would she go to her room? I doubt it. She wants to draw this out—at least for a little bit.
She wants to toy with me because she’s a brat with an attitude issue. Of course she doesn’t want to make this easy.
I’m guessing she’s going to hide in a place I can’t reach and get my attention, luring me toward her before darting away again. It’s too loud in here with the music, but I’d bet the most maniacal giggle will be emanating out of her.
Reaching an intersection of hallways, I decide to circle around the corner, back into the main entryway and the floor-to-ceiling fireplace.
Which is where I spot her and her lacy tank top and pleatherskirt.
She’s a fucking sight, and for a split second, I forget what the hell I’m doing; I just want to stare at her.
She wiggles her fingers, taunting me, baiting me, and, God, I want to bite so badly. She is not winning this game, but I’ll humor her for a brief moment.
Cocking my head side to side, I study her, waiting for her to make the next move.
The party moves around us, the music loud and haunting.
The air’s electric and scented like warm spice and apple.
She’s like the star in a music video, stagnant with the camera on her face while the background and extras become a blur of motion.
But it doesn’t matter because the only person I want to see is her.
The scene is set to perfection, and now I just want to get to the final act of our movie already.
Not the one in every scary movie where the bloodbath happens and it’s action-packed.
I mean, I want the action, just not the murder.
Maybe an engagement, another tattoo or three, and the promise of a life together.
Standing here, facing her with a mile and a million people between us, I wonder if my entire life was shaped to lead me to this very moment with her.
She doesn’t take too long to move our game along when she suddenly darts off, disappearing deeper into the other side of the house. This is going to be impossible.
An idea appears in my mind, and a proud smile shifts beneath my mask.
Eventually, she’s going to go to the third floor because as much as she wants to pretend to be in charge, she’s still a bit shy, and she isn’t going to want the rest of the party to possibly hear us, which means she’ll lead me up and away from the main group.
But I have a better plan, one that gives me the reins of control. I waste no time before taking off up the flight of stairs near me, two with every stride, not stopping until I reach the third floor.
The best part of owning this house is knowing the layout and exactly where I’m going to go.
She might have spent more time here, but I know where I want this sexy chase to end.
I turn right when I step onto the third floor instead of left toward Mona’s room.
I head into the first room, thankfully unlocked, to my right, one with a lock on it, so I can be sure we won’t be interrupted.
Shutting the door behind me, I grab my phone from my pocket and quickly open my camera app. She’d probably call this cheating, but I like to think that it’s using my resources. It takes me a moment to spot her, but when I do, I can’t tear my gaze from her, even if I wanted to.
She’s navigating the place on her tiptoes, carefully peeking around every corner before taking another step, every move calculated and sure. She’s the one supposed to be hiding from me, and yet she looks like the predator and I’m the prey.
Setting my phone down on the small table by the door, positioned so I can still watch, I slide the drawer open and grab one of the very reasons I chose this room—a lighter. I move on to the other reason, plucking an armful of candles from one of the cabinets on the back wall.
This room is an old library, full of old books and journals kept and collected by the Schraders. The ambience, with a bunch of candles burning, ornate dark green wallpaper, shelves filled with books lining the wall—it’s sexy.
I keep an eye on her, switching cameras when she disappears from view, while I finish lighting them all, setting them on the small table by the door and around the room in the least flammable places.
Hopefully, she won’t be too disappointed in my impromptu takeover of her little game. She deserves to be hunted and chased, but this isn’t that. I want to scare her, catch her off guard, and snatching her up as she strides past the room is the perfect way.
The candles have a couple of purposes tonight—to give us a romantic, soft glow and … well, she’ll find out soon enough.
Her hand grips one of the posts on the main staircase on the first floor, and she takes a tentative step up and then another, my heart doing little backflips in my chest as she gets closer to me.
Slowly trekking up the stairs as if she were hiking a rocky mountain side, she holds the railing for dear life. She quickly reaches the second floor, taking a few minutes to walk through the bustling rooms and long hallways while keeping an eye out for me.
I can tell she’s getting discouraged from the drop in her shoulders and slowness in her pace. Soon enough, it’ll all be worth it, and she’ll be screaming just the way she wants to.
I play the next few minutes out in my head, each fantasy sending my blood pooling to my dick. The image of her lust-blown pupils when I remove her mask, sliding two fingers into her mouth for her to greedily suck. I’ll then sink to my knees and swipe my tongue through the wetness waiting for me.
Fuck, the anticipation is eating me alive.
After lingering around the second floor, she finally braves the next staircase, bringing her straight up to me. She strides onto the landing of the third floor, slowly looking right, left, and forward, trying to decide on which path to take.
Her confidence in her decision-making skills have wavered completely. She’s on edge, nervous, and probably a bit fearful after losing her control, which will make every other emotion … sensation so much better.
The hallway to her left, the one that leads toward her room, is pitch-black, and as she makes the choice to wander down it, I lose sight of her, the camera only extending to the baseboard of the furthest wall.