The man looks around the crowd before stopping on me. My heart kicks up a notch. Does he recognize me? It doesn’t take long to figure out when he raises his hand, presses it to his lips, and blows a kiss in my direction. I feel like I can’t get enough air into my lungs.
I turn and shove my way through the crowd, needing to get the hell out of here. I pull my phone out and pull up the app for Uber. Glancing over my shoulder, I don’t even think Colt knows I’m gone.
I cross my arms over my chest and walk toward the entrance in the dark. It’s so fucking dark out here that I can barely see where I’m going. The party still roars behind me, but I need to get the hell out of here.
I stand here for a few minutes when a car pulls up, which I assume is my Uber driver. I sigh, knowing I can get out of here without having to tell Colt what that was all about.
I climb in the front seat as I usually do and buckle my seatbelt as the car takes off. I rattle off the address before I turn and gasp.
“Let me out,” I say softly.
“No.”
“Let me out of the car,” I say once more.
“I said no.” I’m trying to listen to his voice to see if it’s someone I know, but I don’t recognize it.
“I just want to go home,” I say, nearly in tears. The man in the mask doesn’t say another word as he drives. I watch oursurroundings, and I can see he’s actually driving toward my house. When we get closer, he pulls to the side of the road, and I reach for the door handle, but he’s faster. He grabs my wrist and flashes a knife as my breathing becomes uneven and shaky.
“Please, don’t hurt me.”
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He sets the knife on his lap and pushes me back in the seat. I watch him slip his glove off one hand before pressing it to my stomach. I’m trembling, unsure what’s about to happen when he slips his hand into the front of my jeans. A whimper leaves my lips, and he goes lower. His hand grabs my pussy roughly before sliding his fingers into my panties. I should scream, right? Would someone hear me? They would have to, but as I glance out the window, there’s no one around.
“Don’t scream. Not yet,” he says as I gasp. How did he know what I was about to do? His fingers find me wet. Don’t ask me why I’m wet, I don’t fucking know. This is the reckless part of me. The part that craves things I shouldn’t.
“Oh, fuck. You’re so wet,” he says as his finger dips inside me. He works his finger in and out, and eventually, I start to move with him.
“Please,” I whisper. What am I asking for? I don’t even know.
“You’re fucking my hand so good, baby doll. Keep going,” he urges, and for some stupid reason, I do. I keep fucking his fingers, and he keeps moving them until I can’t take much more. He groans; he has to know I’m close.
“Go ahead, baby doll. Let go. Come all over my fucking hand,” he encourages me. I begin to move faster, taking his fingers deeper when it hits me.
“Oh God,” I cry out as I let my release wash over me. My pussy clenches around his fingers, waves of pleasure shooting through me. I stop moving, but his fingers don’t. They pull every last drop out of me before he slips his hand out of my jeans.
I can feel my cheeks heat from embarrassment. The masked man moves his hand to the front of his mask, inhaling my scent off his hand. My breathing is still a little sporadic, and I’m uncertain what to do now.
He sits there, watching me, but doesn’t say a word. A good five minutes passes and he turns to the road. He pulls from the side of the road where he’d stopped and drives the rest of the way to my house. I jolt slightly when he reaches across the front of me, pops open the door, and allows me to leave.
I climb out on shaking limbs, looking back into the car at him before closing the door. My heart feels like it’s going to leap out of my chest as I turn and walk up the stairs to the front door. As I pull my key out, he takes off.
