Kill Switch (Devil's Night 3)

But they were always the same person.

“As long as you’re Damon Torrance, I don’t care what you wear,” I told him.

He kissed me, melting his mouth into mine and tipping my head back, cradling it in his arm so he could deepen the kiss and sink his tongue into my mouth.

A swirl of excitement spun all the way down to between my thighs, and I was already panting as his heat just made me want so much more right now.

A bed. A whole night

. Just him.

“Did you like it?” he asked against my mouth.

“Huh?”

Did I like the kiss? Wasn’t it obvious? My body was a puddle in his hands.

The fountain?” he clarified when I didn’t respond.

He turned me around and lifted me up, and I could feel the draft under my skirt, so I knew it was riding up, but I didn’t care.

Just take me home.

“It was incredible,” I told him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Perfect for sitting.”

Just like we liked to do.

We kissed again, harder and deeper, and I gripped the hair at the back of his head, forcing us to go slow every time he wanted to speed up. I hovered, teasing him, and dipped in for a kiss only to pull away again.

“Winter,” he growled low.

We stayed there, nose to nose and breathing each other in, not wanting to pull away for a moment, even to get out of here and find a bed.

But he put me down and took my hand, leading me off. “Follow me.”

We walked through the crowds of people dancing and hanging out, the music pounding and the smell of grilled food hanging in the air, and I trailed close, holding his hand and his arm, too.

I still wasn’t sure how to feel about a lot of what had happened and what was happening now. What was prison like for him? Did I feel badly about any of it?

What about Arion? What were his intentions with both of us, and what about my father? Did I resent that Damon was the one who exposed him?

I gripped his arm, overwhelmed with just the need for him, and I couldn’t care about the rest right now. Just hide with me. Just hide us away.

We wound deeper into the park, passing some voices here and there, but the music and hustle and bustle of the party were far behind, leaving us on our own the farther we went.

He stopped and rose up. “Steps,” he told me.

I followed him, still holding his hand and arm as I followed him up a small flight of five metal stairs.

We took a few steps, and he paused again, telling me, “The Midnight Maze.”

I smiled curiously, cocking my head. I didn’t remember this, but my pulse quickened at the thought of another maze.

He let me go first, the mobile structure sounding quiet and feeling still. We must be the only ones out here.

Putting my hands out like I did with the fountain this morning, I touched the plastic panels on both sides, hearing them shake as we both walked inside and began down a path. The walls ended here and there, showing me how the maze diverted into different trails, and I stepped quietly in my Chucks, smiling about how silent I could be and getting an idea.

“Marco,” I called.