Somehow, my eyes have found their way to his face, and I can’t help but let them slide down to his lips as he bites down on the bottom one while veering through traffic, as if following Sunny on her motorcycle causes him distress.
Fear of the unknown.
I read about it all the time, but it’s an unfamiliar sensation to my weary body.
I fear nothing, not even death itself.
Xavier, on the other hand…
He glances my way out of nowhere, and I feel caught staring, so I avert my gaze.
“What?”
I clear my throat. “Nothing. I was just … Never mind.”
He tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “You were looking at me.”
“Is that forbidden?” I retort, folding my arms.
His eyes flicker down my robe to my ample pecs still visible through a gap, and the blush is almost immediate, followed by a brisk snort. “It is when you’re distracting me.”
“With what?” I raise a brow. “Nipples?”
I part the robe fully, exposing my simple sweatpants and all the glorious muscle on my chiseled body.
He nearly flinches in his seat. “Stop. I’m trying to fucking drive.”
“Afraid you’re gonna crash the car from a bit of skin, Xavier?”
“Fuck you,” he growls.
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” I retort, smirking.
“In your dreams,” he says, keeping his gaze fixated on her, as if he’s determined not to lose sight of that delicious body in that skintight suit of hers.
We drive up the mountain, following our beloved Mistress Sunny as she swerves across the street on her motorcycle.
“Maybe I have,” I rebuke, throwing even myself off.
“What?” he mutters, completely caught off guard.
“Nothing,” I reiterate, sighing again as I roll my eyes. “Just fucking drive.”
I need this car ride to be over as quickly as possible so I can finally get to the only thing that matters to me: becoming her next victim. I’ve already made up my mind. She’s the only one who can do it for me, who can make my final wish come true.
When the car arrives at the location, I look up in surprise.
We’re not at her house. We’re at ours. Tartarus House.
“What is she planning?” Xavier murmurs as he parks the car.
“I have no idea, but I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” I say, as we both get out.
She’s already put her helmet on her bike and marches toward the door with her backpack still firmly pressed to her back. “Inside. Quickly.”
We nod and follow her into the house, where the party is still ongoing as usual. Tartarus parties only end when the sun rises, and the people are done dancing and fucking and ready to sleep it off.
Before she opens the door, she pulls her bag off her shoulders and pulls out a mask with bunny ears, but it’s not one I’ve ever seen before. She puts it on, then zips the bag back up and casually throws it over her shoulder.
