A rubber Ghost Face mask stared back at him. Long black robe. A gloved hand holding what looked like a knife—or a very convincing prop—while a warm, solid body pinned him to the counter, draping itself over him like a shadow.
Noah’s rational brain whispered it was Adam. His pulse whispered it wasn’t.
Noah assessed the situation. The blade against his throat was very real. If he moved anywhere his assailant didn’t want him to, he’d bleed. The edge bit just enough to sting, cold steel kissing his pulse. He didn’t know what it said about him that he was already hard, his cock trapped painfully between the granite and his body, throbbing with every panicked beat of his heart.
“If you’re not my husband, you really picked the wrong guy to fuck with,” Noah said, leaning back against Adam’s chest. The heat pouring off the man was familiar, steady, and it made Noah’s stomach twist with dark anticipation. “He’s really, really protective of me.”
“Is that so?” the mechanical voice asked, low and inhuman, the distortion rattling straight through Noah’s bones.
“Mm,” Noah confirmed, reaching behind him to grip the robe on either side, pulling him tighter against him.
The scent was Adam. The way the body moved with his was Adam. But the mask staring back at him in the glass? That was wrong enough to ping his lizard brain. He was now more convinced than ever that it was Adam behind him. Who else could afford a mask with a built-in voice modulator? And after all these years, it wasn’t like he didn’t know his own husband’s every trick.
“I’m sure you don’t want to die screaming,” Noah taunted, letting just enough bravado bleed into his voice.
“You’re gonna be the only one screaming tonight.”
Yeah, that was definitely Adam.
Noah snorted. “Promises, promises.”
The knife withdrew, but before Noah could do more than turn around, Adam had him tossed over one shoulder, carrying him down the hall like he weighed nothing. Noah cackled loudly, caught off guard, his fists thumping uselessly against Adam’s back.
When Adam set him back on his feet, they were in their bedroom. “You sure seem to know my house,” Noah observed, heart still hammering.
Adam didn’t acknowledge the question, just stepped back, towering. “Strip.”
“You could say please,” Noah pouted, dragging it out.
Noah stared at the hollow eyes of the mask as he flicked open each button on his shirt, testing Adam’s patience just for the thrill of it. Danger was hot. Danger in Adam’s hands was scorching. His husband had a tendency to grow…impatient when he was denied what he wanted, and when Adam got impatient, he got mean. Noah loved when Adam was mean.
It only took about ten more seconds for Adam to growl, yanking Noah closer by his shirt before ripping it open, little plastic projectiles flying everywhere. “Strip. Faster,” the mechanical voice spat, warped and merciless.
Noah sighed, then tossed his ruined shirt to the ground. “I liked that shirt.”
“Then you should have taken it off when I told you to.”
Noah worked open the button and zipper on his jeans, then stepped free of them, kicking them away. He gestured with a flourish. He hadn’t bothered with underwear. He never did when they were at home. Adam had ruined too many pairs.
“There you go, Mr. Scary Ghost Face,” he said, putting on his best Marilyn voice. “But you better hurry up if you plan to defile me before my husband gets home.”
Adam’s hand closed around Noah’s throat, yanking him forward hard enough to make him stumble, squeezing the sides until Noah’s vision sparked. “You’re awfully mouthy for someone who’s naked and defenseless.”
Fuck, he had big hands. The pressure was possessive, not crushing, and Noah’s cock jerked at the hold, pre-come already leaking down his thigh.
“Oh, we both know I’m not defenseless. I’m just humoring you,” Noah managed, giving him a smug smile even as his head swam from the sudden loss of blood flow. “And if you don’t like me talking, maybe you should find a way to shut me up?”
Adam turned around, snagging something off the dresser. One of Noah’s ties. He’d prepped for this. A tiny thrill ran through Noah. He held his hands up, but Adam just tossed the knife onto the bed, then spun Noah around, tugging his arms behind him and securing them with the silk fabric. The silk dragged tight against his wrists, burning faintly as it bit into the skin. Noah bit back a smile when Adam slipped a finger beneath the ties to make sure they weren’t too tight.
“Awfully considerate for a cold-blooded killer.”
Noah anticipated him, whipping him back around. He didn’t expect the slap to the face that had his head jerking to the side, skin burning hot where Adam’s gloved palm had landed. His cock twitched, already wet with anticipation. He loved when Adam got violent. The glove had added some extra weight behind it.
“What was that?” Adam asked, voice low and distorted through the mask.
“I said you hit like a bitch,” Noah countered, then spit on the mask.
“Let’s see if you still think that in a minute,” Adam said, shoving two fingers past Noah’s lips, hooking them behind his bottom teeth to force his mouth open. Noah gagged slightly, then moaned, sucking hard at them, the taste of leather bitter on his tongue. Adam dragged them free, then wiped them on Noah’s cheek, smearing spit across his skin.
