On shaky legs, I move toward the door and step through. This room is almost like a prison; actors behind bars reach their arms out and beg for me to help them. It feels so fucking real. I move faster, needing to get out of here. When I reach the exit, I step out into another hallway, but I’m positive it’s not the same one I came through. There is a man standing at the end of the hall in a glow mask, and for the first time I notice he is wearing a wristband like mine, flashing yellow. This has to be Ares; he is the only one I haven’t come up against yet.
I walk closer to him, heart pounding, and wait to see what he does.
But he doesn’t do anything.
As I move past him, the air shifts, and his heat is now right behind me. When I turn to look over my shoulder, he is following me a couple paces back. With every step, I wait to see what he plans to do; the anticipation is killing me.
The overhead speakers crackle to life, and Vero’s voice is back. “We are going on a Vero hunt, and she’s not scared.”
He repeats the line over and over.
I turn in a circle and look up at the ceiling, though I can’t see much of anything in the gloom. I can’t find where the voice is coming from, and I wonder if it’s not just in my head. After a few spins, the footsteps behind me get closer, and I’m pushed sideways. I stumble into a pitch-black room, and the door slamsshut behind me. My wristband is still cycling through its three glowing colors, but the meager light isn’t strong enough to illuminate anything more than a few inches past my arm.
Body heat appears at my back out of nowhere—someone is behind me. Then something cold touches the back of my neck, and I scream loud enough it bounces back at me off all four walls.
A hand clamps over my mouth. “Shhh,” Vero whispers against my ear, breathing fast. “Are you going to scream again?”
I shake my head. He spins me around to face him as the light above us comes on, his hand lingering on the switch cord.
His eyes are too bright, pupils blown wide. Vero looks like he has been running on pure adrenaline for the last twenty minutes and hasn’t figured out how to stop.
“Most people break in the first hallway. The Jason thing gets them every time—it’s very effective. I picked the biggest guy we have for Jason, and his name is Gerald, by the way. Lovely man—breeds rabbits.” He stops, tilts his head, and looks at me like he’s only just seeing me properly. “You’re shaking.”
“I am not.”
“You are a little.”
“Vero.”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up,” I say.
Then I kiss him.
Vero
Kayla smashes her lips to mine, and I use the distraction to slip the handcuff around her wrist, so for the rest of the chase we are locked together. Why? Because she is not the only one who needs a little excitement in her life, and Clay is a loose cannon. This way, if he gets close to her, he has to get past me as well. The logic made sense when I came up with it.
My other incentive is Brawley. He can’t get in here, but I know he will be watching—he always is. When we take part in chases, he is with me when the fucking happens. I planned to chase Kayla outside, but the second her lips touched mine, I knew I would not make it out of this room. Brawley will come down here and beat down the door, then he will want to punish me. That thought makes me wild. Poor Kayla is now collateral damage, but something tells me she is going to love every second. I just hope she can run.
I pull back from the kiss and move my lips down her jawline to her neck. I really didn’t think through the handcuffing. It limits being able to fuck her from behind, and I really, really want to see the globes of her ass bent over for me, and that teasing sliver of pussy. But I’m a resourceful guy, so I move ustoward the single chair in the room, and right now I’m grateful my last one broke. Since I just have a piece of shit metal one with no arms, when we get close enough, I pull back and fall down onto the chair, and Kayla comes with me, her arm being attached to mine.
She wastes no time when I reach for the button on her jeans and pop it open, then pull her zipper down. Kayla helps shimmy her way out of her pants and her lacy thong, and when it all drops to her ankles, she toes off her boots and steps out of the pooled fabric. Who would have thought wide-leg jeans coming back into fashion would pay off?
I bite down on my lip as she straddles my waist, and I am thankful that the scrub pants I am wearing are elastic. She uses her free hand to release my cock, and when it springs free, she lifts and hovers herself over me, but she hesitates for a moment.
“I’m clean,” I tell her, hoping my word is enough.
Never have I wanted to fuck someone bare before, but I need to be inside her—she is all I have thought about for days. I hate when my brain latches onto something; it goes around and around in circles. But there is a high chance that once I fuck her, I will move on. I can’t help it. When I see something new and shiny, I need it, but then once I have it, I lose interest.
She exhales and whispers “fuck it” and impales herself on my cock in one move.
My eyes roll back in my head and I see stars; it could also be from the lack of oxygen from holding my breath while I waited for her to decide what she wanted to do next.
She rocks forward and back a few times, then increases her pace right before the thumping on the door starts. Kayla pauses and looks over my shoulder toward the door.
“It’s just Brawley. I hope you are ready to run because I am a dead man if you can’t.”
