Page 50 of The Honor Society

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Why ask stupid questions? We’re getting chased. I need to keep you safe. From here on out assume everything I do is to keep you alive until The Convocation.” I wrap the piece of cloth around her eyes and pull it tight.

She stills. “And after?”

I snort. “You think you can just become a part of The Honor Society and after I fucking fix everything you can go back to the life you had? Do you even want that life? Boring sex with your boring boyfriend? A white picket fence? A dog? Cat? Maybe a goldfish? A nine to five, or maybe you’d stay home.” My hands find her hips and dig in. “Yeah, you’re the type right? You’d want kids, safety, security. Fuck, you’d probably raise a sourdough starter and name it something like George and in that same breath tell poor Axel that you want chickens.” She licks her lips and then lifts her chin in defiance. “What? Too close to home? Come on, Charlie, it’s written all over your body, all over your face very damn time you looked at him. Safe. So fucking safe it disgusts me. That’s not your future, not anymore. The only time you’ll ever be safe,” I run my gloved hand down her neck. “Is in my arms.”

“You don’t want me.”

“Who says I don’t?” I counter. “Who says I’m not selfish enough to keep you, Charlie? I like pets.”

She tries to jerk away. I grab her by the wrists when a bouncer walks by and makes a motion with his hand that they’re surrounding the club, looking, then he shows me two. About two minutes before they bust in here looking for a man in a mask and a woman.

I tear at Charlie’s shirt even more, pulling it free from her body and tucking it under the cushion behind us.

She covers her breasts with her hands. She’s wearing the thinnest black bra known to mankind. Of course the one day she decides not to wear a sports bra. I move to her hips again tugging at her jeans and then I remember the date.

She’s on her period or close, I can’t remember but it’s close and I can’t risk her feeling uncomfortable or more so than she is and panicking.

I leave the jeans on, pulling my hands away. She shudders like she’s thankful for the small blessing and then I kill the rest of the mood lights. “Keep your eyes closed.”

“I can’t see anyway.”

“Promise me.” I whisper. “That you keep them closed until I tell you, you can open them.”

She nods. “Fine.”

“Good girl.” I slowly take off my mask, and hide it beneath my back then toss off my shirt to cover it and the cushion. My gloves follow and then it’s just us. My bare chest, her nearly bare chest and a small room that smells like sex, bad decisions, and too much cigarette smoke.

If I speak she’ll recognize my voice. So I simply put one bare finger against her lips as if to say ‘shhh.

She begins to shake in my arms. Fuck.

The least sexy thing would be for her to look afraid.

I lean in and cup her face with my hands, and like a desperate idiot, I kiss her. I touch my mouth to hers like a man starved. She shoves against me at first and then I hear someone outside the door above the music. It clicks. Something clicks in her head and she kisses me back—so hard that I can feel every curve of her body, melting into mine. Fuck she tastes so good.

Our tongues tangle in a battle I’d gladly lose if it meant I could stay in this moment forever. I tug at her hair, careful not to remove the blindfold, and run my hands down her arms then cup her breasts, God they’re heavy in my palms. I run a rough thumb over her nipple, she responds instantly. I can’t think. But I have to. I need to.

Control myself.

I part her mouth with my tongue and let myself suffer a bit longer knowing that I will probably never get the chance to taste her again. Her hands slide down my chest then pause. Fuck, does she recognize this chest?

My scars.

Any lower and she’ll feel them.

I quickly grab her wrists and pin them over her head then lay her down on the couch, hovering over her, working my own pants down like we’ve been mid sex the entire time, just as my trousers pass my hips someone pokes their head in.

“Get the fuck out!” I yell.

“Sorry.” The guy, ducks back and whispers under his breath. “Not him, boss, Proctor ain’t allowed to take off his mask ever, you know the rules.”

“Fuck the rules.” The voice spits, it’s low, arrogant. “And we just need the votes in our favor for him to remove it for his identity to be exposed and for one happy little accident to change The Society for good.” He curses again. “We need Death.”

“She got the note.” I’m listening but still kissing her, I can tell she’s doing the same, playing a part with our ears wide open. “And it looks like The Proctor has an interest in her beyond being Famine, all men are the same, boss, they think with their dicks, he’s no different.”

Charlie smiles against my mouth and gives my very hard dick a little tap. I wince against her and bite down on her lower lip. “Careful little girl. I bite.”