“See?” he says, cheeky, settling in beside me. “Better than studying.”
I roll my eyes, but the corners of my mouth tug upward. “Fine. You win this one.”
As the first trailer blares through the speakers and the crowd cheers, I let myself lean back against the pile of pillows, the chill of the night dulled by the warmth at my side. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The first movie turned out to be pure cheese—rubber masks, ketchup blood, and dialogue so bad I nearly choked on popcorn from laughing. Mads kept leaning over to whisper dramatic reenactments in my ear, which didn’t help. But now the second feature’s rolling, and the vibe has shifted. Darker. Slower. Horror that creeps under your skin instead of splattering it across the screen. I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders, my earlier laughter fading into silence as the tension on screen starts to gnaw at me.
The music ratchets higher, strings screeching enough to set my teeth on edge. A shadow crawls across the wall of some doomed character’s house, and when the jump scare finally hits, I flinch so hard I sling popcorn all over both of us.
“God,” I mutter, shoving the bag aside and burying my face in the warm curve of Mads’ neck. His skin smells like soap and faint cologne, and his chest rumbles with a laugh I can feel against my cheek.
“Scared, Blue?” His voice is low, too pleased with himself.
“Shut up,” I mumble into his skin, refusing to look at the screen.
Instead of letting me pull away, he wraps his arms around me and tugs me easily into his lap. I should protest—I know we’re in public—but the steady press of his body and the way his hands settle on me strip every excuse from my mind before I can form them.
I don’t move. I let him hold me, heart hammering for reasons that have nothing to do with the movie anymore.
“Didn’t peg you for the type to hide from a little fake blood,” he murmurs, his lips moving against my hairline.
“It’s not the blood,” I mutter, refusing to lift my face from his shoulder.
“Mm. Sure.” He gives me a squeeze. He’s enjoying this way too much.
The next scare on screen makes me jump even harder, and Mads chuckles. It’s infuriating.
I lift my head just enough to glare at him, ready with a retort, but the look on his face cuts the words off. His grin’s still there, but softer at the edges, his eyes darker, fixed on me instead of the movie.
He surprises me with a kiss. A tease, barely there, until I lean into it without meaning to.
His hand slides up my back, pulling me closer, while mine twists in the fabric of his shirt. The movie’s gone the second his mouth is on me, fading with the scrape of his teeth when he nips at my lower lip, with the quiet sounds he makes that go straight to the pit of my stomach.
It builds, messy and hungry, until I’m straddling his lap, the movie outside forgotten. The whole lot could be watching us instead for all I care.
He grinds me down against his cock, the friction building until I’m biting back a sound I can’t let anyone around us hear.
“Yeah,” he mutters against my mouth, lips trailing to my throat. “There it is. Knew you wouldn’t last once I got my hands on you.”
I shiver, nails curling into his shoulders as his teeth graze my skin. His words come out hushed. Raw and coaxing. “You’ve been tense for days, Blue. Let me take care of it. Let me take care of you.”
My body betrays me before my mouth can form a protest. I grind against him, and his answering groan makes my head spin. He presses me down, guiding the movement with shameless intensity.
“That’s it. Use me,” he whispers, filthy and reverent all at once. “Let me feel you fall apart.”
It’s funny to me that just a few days ago, I was slightly embarrassed by using his body like this. But it turns out, hedoeslike it just as much as I do.
Heat pools low in my stomach, every nerve sparking as I chase the rhythm he sets. My forehead falls against his, breath ragged. He doesn’t stop talking, doesn’t stop winding me tighter.
“You’re so close, I can feel it. You gonna come for me? Right here in my lap, while some guy two cars over is thinking his nachos are the highlight of his night?” There’s a wicked tilt to his mouth, but his eyes are wild with need. “Be a good girl and give it to me. I want every sound, every bit of it.”
The tension snaps, pleasure tearing through me as I gasp into his mouth, clinging to him like I’ll fall apart without him holding me together. His arms wrap around me, steadying, even as his voice keeps pouring filth into my ear.
“Yeah. That’s it. You’re mine, Blue. Mine to tear apart and put back together. Mine to fuck. I can’t wait to get you home. Fill this pussy like we both need.”
I sag against him, forehead pressed to his shoulder, lungs burning like I’ve just run suicides on the field. His hoodie is soft under my cheek, his chest rising and falling steadily while mine heaves.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, words muffled into the fabric.
