Oh. That was unexpected.
“Which one?”
He smirks, looking at the carousel again. “The chase. It’s sort of my specialty.”
“Fascinating.” I sit back, crossing my arms, suddenly overwhelmed with a few different sensations.
“Should we check it off your list?”
I can’t tell if he’s teasing or completely serious. But when I turn to him, his expression leaves no doubt. His eyes burn with a raw, primal intensity that sends a shiver across my skin, igniting a fresh wave of desire that I can’t ignore.
CHAPTER 14
SELENE
What the hell was I thinking? I wasn’t. Nothing about tonight has gone according to plan. The moment I saw the three of them sitting at the bar with their masks on, it was game over for me. I knew what my target was for the night, and nothing was going to stop me—not even myself, or that small voice of reason. You’d think, with my status and wealth, I’d be a bit more reserved, maybe paranoid?
That’s the uncanny beauty of this place—it’s not about thinking or managing or making decisions. It’s about surrendering. Letting go entirely or taking absolute control, depending on your craving. Here, whatever dark or forbidden desire surfaces, you follow it without hesitation. You let it control you. The memories linger like stolen postcards—souvenirs you’ll hoard for years, snapshots of indulgence you’d never risk outside these walls. Someday, when I’m old and gray, I won’t look back with regret. No shame for the things I didn’t dare to enjoy openly because of the life I was born into. At least a sliver of it came alive here.
Now, though, I’m winding through the skeletal remains of an abandoned amusement park, the shadows of rusty buildings rising like sentinels around me. I’m searching for a man whomight kill me without a second thought. No one would know. He could leave my body here to rot, swallowed by the quiet, and vanish without leaving a trace. This place is a ghost town—a playground for the untamed, where secrets are currency and exposure is a fate worse than death.
Again, what the hell were you thinking?
The thrill of what’s to come is what keeps me moving, one foot in front of the other, as I push open the creaking door of what looks like a haunted gingerbread house. The once-vibrant colors have faded to a sickly orange-gray, and the candy cane columns are chipped and rotting. Inside, the air is thick with dust and the sweet scent of gingerbread long replaced by the staleness of desist.
Every shadow seems to move, every creak and groan of the old structure makes me jump with unease. The darkness is alive, playing tricks on my mind. But it’s that same darkness, that same uncertainty, that has me tingling in between my legs.
Fuck I love this feeling. I’ve learned to embrace it, giving up shame long ago and now that it’s finally here, a fantasy I’ve been dreaming about for so long potentially coming to life…I can hardly wait.
What if you hate it?
Then I’ll put a stop to it. I’m not ashamed of that either. That’s what a safe word is there for. There is no guarantee I’m going to love everything my dirty mind thinks of, and if I want to put an end to it, I will. Without hesitation. I haven’t needed to yet and I am equal parts curious and scared to find out where my limit ends.
Terrified, I round a corner into a hallway cloaked in darkness, my pulse hammering in my ears. I stretch out both arms, brushing my fingertips along the rough walls, searching blindly for a door—or worse, a dead end.
Damon seemed determined to shift the mood of the night, his mask secured tightly like armor. Without a word, he’d pulled out a handkerchief, tying it deftly around my wrists as I clung to the back of the bench. “When you free yourself,” he said, his tone calm but resolute, “come find me.”
A man with a plan, even when it seemed like he wanted nothing to do with the games tonight. Despite his aloofness, I’m glad I followed his challenge.
Searching for him feels like the right choice.
My heart is beating a thousand miles a minute and if something jumps out at me right now, I’d probably scream bloody murder.
Finally I seem to encounter a wall right in front of me. Relief washes over me when my fingers find a handle that yields with a faint creak. Holding my breath, I push the door open, stepping into an empty room bathed in a dim red and green glow.
In the center sits a dusty red couch, surrounded by plastic candy canes scattered haphazardly across the floor. Unlit Christmas lights dangle from corner to corner, their wires tangled and sagging. It doesn’t have the abandoned feel of the rest of the park; there’s a lived-in quality to the space, as if it’s used often—just not by anyone I’d want to meet.
I pause, taking it all in. The amusement park is clearly more than a decaying relic. People must come here for reasons far beyond the hotel’s kinky offerings. Still, I can’t shake the discomfort creeping up my spine. Like someone’s watching me.
A door stands opposite the one I entered. Damon isn’t in this room.
Without wasting time, I run across and step into the next room, nearly identical to the first. The only difference? This one has a green couch instead of red. Déjà vu tightens around me like a noose, but I keep moving.
Rooms three, four, and five are exactly the same, and by the time I reach the sixth door, it feels like I’m trapped in a never-ending nightmare. Each room is a carbon copy of the last, draining my hope with every step.
But then, hallelujah—this one is different.
A smile spreads across my face as I step inside, greeted by a row of Christmas trees. Though I know it’s all fake, it doesn’t feel that way. The ceiling above has tiny holes, releasing a steady stream of artificial snowflakes that gently blanket the room. The snow covers the Christmas trees, turning the space into a winter wonderland tree farm.
