Page 131 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

I stand there for a moment, just to watch. Back in my mom’s high-class, not-quite-gated neighborhood, trick-or-treating wasn’t like this.

Then again, it didn’t really happen there at all. The HOA turned up their noses at the idea of stray kids in the neighborhood, and I barely ever saw kids trying to knock on the big, heavily decorated and overly secure doors of my street.

I’ll never admit that I prefer this. I don’t want anyone thinking I’ve gone soft after a lifetime of being the unwell babysitter living with her mom.

My hand sneaks into the candy bowl to grab a few pieces before setting it back on the sideboard beside the door, which closes at a nudge of my bare foot. Without hesitation, I head back to the living room, passing Doom on the way while he grooms himself on the kitchen counter. Unlike Gloom, nothing we do keeps him off of it, and he doesn’t love Cassian enough to be tempted down like his sister. The ex-feral glances up at me, giving me a slow blink, before going back to splaying his legs like this is an 18+ show for cats.

“Gross,” I tell him, not stopping. “Literally gross. No one wants to see that.” But I still stick out my hand to gently pet his head. No way I’m getting near that tongue after where it’s been.

The living room is mostly dark, and I sink down on the sofa just as Cass pulls the blanket up for me. He waits until I’m tucked in and comfortable before pressing play again, and I deposit the candy I grabbed onto the blanket between us.

My boyfriend snorts, though his amusement certainly doesn’t stop him from picking up a Snickers. “I heard you. And saw you when I got up a few minutes ago.” He unwraps the Milky Way and puts it to his lips, taking a bite of the fun-size candy before gently pressing it against my mouth. He knows they’re my favorite, and I don’t hesitate in finishing it off.

“Did not,” I mumble around the chocolate. “There was nothing to see.”

“You’re soft for kids. It’s sweet,” Cassian murmurs as he returns his gaze to the TV.

“Nuh uh.” I don’t look at him, instead grabbing another piece of candy to unwrap. This one I shove into his face, much less kindly or affectionately than he did for me. Cass gives a quick sputter of surprise, his lips opening around it, before finally he snorts and bites through the soft chocolate.

He doesn’t let me pull away when I try, however. His hand catches mine and he licks the chocolate from my fingers, sending a shiver down my spine that goes straight to my core.

If I’m not careful, we’re going to fuck through another horror movie this week. And when Sloane inevitably asks if I enjoyed whatever it is we’re watching, I’ll have to admit that actually watching it hadn’t been so successful.

And God, I don’t want to get that look from her again.

“Hey, hey.” I tap his nose lightly. “I’m trying to watch the movie here.”

“You’re doing a terrible job of it.” He moves so I’m cradled between his thighs on the couch, back to his chest and head pressed to his shoulder. When he loosely wraps his arms around me, the movement sends the other pieces of candy to the carpet.

Not that I care. I’m too busy being focused on the way his hands are playing at the hem of my Scream T-shirt, and how occasionally I feel the pads of his fingers against my skin.

“Fuck,” I sigh, squirming. “You’re being unfair, Cass. If I don’t at least pretend to watch this, Sloane is going to make fun of me. Again. And apparently Hazel isn’t as busy this week with wedding shit. They’ll gang up on me if they get together with free time.”

“Gosh, that’s just awful,” my boyfriend deadpans. “I’ll leave you alone then.” He settles back, going as quiet as he usually is, and turns his face back to the TV, like he’s actually interested in whatever monster horror movie we’re watching.

But he isn’t. It’s obvious in the way his fingers keep moving, keep teasing. I can’t sit still as his hands trace higher, dragging my shirt up over my hip bones, up to the underside of my breasts, and up until⁠—

When the doorbell rings, I nearly levitate, which only makes him chuckle behind me as I give a quiet gasp. “You’re the worst!” I hiss softly, having to literally struggle free of both his grip and the damn blanket. “Let go of me, you…octopus.”

He doesn’t. Cass follows me, getting to his feet as well, and only lets go of me so he can pause the movie yet again.

As if I know what’s going on.

“I’ll suffer with you this time, I suppose,” he sighs airily. “Even though I still hold my stance that we are the least likely people in Hayden Fields to be celebrating Halloween by handing out candy.” He grins when I roll my eyes up at him. This is an argument I refuse to have. We both love Halloween, but I’m definitely the only one who wanted to buy enough candy for the entire neighborhood to come by three, if not four times.

Maybe I went a little overboard. Maybe that’s something I’ll have to come to terms with, but there are worse ways to spend Halloween.

Like being kidnapped by my ex-friend, who I also babysat as a kid. Or like telling my no-boyfriend to maybe not kill her since Reagan was clearly not doing well in the head, and⁠—

I open the door to a gaggle of children, this group dressed in much less fantasy-esque costumes than the ones before them. Instead, a few bloody ghosts and ghouls stand there, yelling the usual trick or treat at the tops of their strong little lungs.

“Come on, you little monsters,” I invite, kneeling down. I look their costumes over, able to recognize most except for two of them. “What are you supposed to be?” I ask the girl who steps forward, her white, lacy dress spattered with blood and a plastic ax in one hand.

“I’m Lizzie Borden,” she announces, brandishing the weapon. “I killed my—wait, no, that’s not how it goes.” She focuses for a moment, then declares, “Lizzie Borden took an axe,

And gave her mother forty whacks. When she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty-one.” Her smile goes wide; she’s clearly proud of herself for remembering the rhyme, and I nod, making a face to show I’m very impressed by the ten-ish year old.

While wondering what the hell her parents let her watch.