Cross the Line

A grin spread across my face. Man, he was so easy to rile up. He dished it out, and I gave it right back. There was something about getting under his skin that was so damn satisfying.

The sound of the siren from The Purge reverberated around the park, and I waited until the echoes died away before making my own way around to the front of the haunted house.

Illuminated by the sweeping coloured lights, I watched the guys in their neon LED masks dart between stalls and rides in pursuit of their prey. Shaking my head, I turned in the direction of the haunted house, passing through the gaping mouth and into the darkness inside.

A guy dressed as a clown with a white painted face and distorted, bloody grin ran at me, but I sidestepped him, continuing through the corridors. Rounding a corner, I found myself in a dimly-lit open space, with a cackling witch who was stirring a cauldron.

She called out to me in a low, croaking voice, but my attention was diverted. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of red, and I paused, switching direction and heading down the corridor to my left.

Flicking the switch on my mask’s LED lights to turn them off, I melted deep into the shadows of the haunted house, undetected, watching him sneak up behind a girl.

She screamed in terror, struggling against his body. Hot jealousy burned through my veins, and I gritted my teeth, forcing myself not to react as my teammate-slash-antagonist murmured something to the girl before lifting his mask, running his lips over the exposed skin of her neck.

The corridor echoed with the pounding of heavy footsteps, and Carter came up behind him, ripping him away from the girl and simultaneously giving him a shove, in the direction of my hiding place. I heard him snarl, “You’re not playing fair,” before Carter and the girl disappeared.

I acted on instinct, before I could think it through. Leaping out of the shadows, I threw my body against his, sending us both staggering back against the wall. His mask was still raised, pushed up on the top of his head, and I tore off my own, before bringing my lips to his ear.

“Hello, Kian.”

His whole body stiffened, and I heard his breathing quicken as I ran my nose down his jaw.

When he spoke, he only said one word, but his voice came out as a low, tortured scrape that had my cock stiffening in my jeans.

“Preston.”

Fuck. One minute, I’d had a hot little female body pressed against me, all lush, soft curves and full tits, and the next, she was gone, and I was being pinned against the wall by six foot two of blond, all-American masculinity. Instead of softness, everything was hard. So fucking hard.

Preston brought his mouth back to my ear. I was frozen in place, just like before, when we’d been in almost this exact position in the changing rooms. “What do you want?” His voice was a sultry drawl that made my dick jump.

I pulled my lip between my teeth, concentrating on the bite of enamel against metal and skin, instead of the way he was grinding his hips slowly against mine.

“What do you want?” he repeated, his breaths getting harsher as he kept up his movements, and my dick lengthened, the tortuous pleasure of the friction against my jeans making me want to thrust my own hips into his. I fisted my hands at my sides, to stop myself from doing something I’d regret, like touch him.

I wasn’t gay. I liked girls.

I didn’t like guys. Most of the time.

Especially not ridiculously good-looking, mouthy American guys who were trying to take my position.

Without that position I was nothing.

With that thought, I finally got the strength to shove him away from me. “I want you to leave me alone.” Trying to storm away with a raging boner was a lot more difficult than you’d think, and my mood soured as I stalked past the huge, neon Ferris wheel, towards the park gates.

The combination of the throbbing beat of the music playing from the sound system and the bright strobe lights flashing around me made my head pound. Forget picking up a girl—I wasn’t in the mood anymore. It was time to move on to my next task of the evening, before I headed to the cove.

A hand gripping my bicep halted my trajectory, and I spun around to see Preston eyeing me with what looked like either apprehension or remorse on his pretty-boy face.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.” I bared my teeth at him.

“I wanted to apologise.” He shrugged, his shoulders slumping. “I know I was out of line. It won’t happen again.”

Why the fuck did I feel a sense of disappointment at his words?

Raising my eyes to his, I studied him for a moment, pulling my lip between my teeth, before I gave up and allowed the words to come out. “You wanna be a delinquent for the night, Golden Boy? Put your mask back on, and follow me.”

5

“Where are we going?” Sliding into the passenger seat of Kian’s car, I glanced over at him. His mask was still pushed up on the top of his head, and his eyes were sparking with wicked intention.