Page 4 of If I Catch You

“Fuck off, Brendon,” I grumble, low enough so that he can’t hear me. It’s not his fault that he didn’t know what I really wanted to do tonight, but he’s the only one here, so I will be directing all muttered insults in his direction.

I’m not as quiet as I think I am, though, because in a second, Brendon has a fistful of my jacket and has hauled me back against his chest. I gasp from the force of it, the impact of his hard body on my back nearly knocking the wind out of me. With his free hand, he reaches around and grips my chin, dragging my face up to look at him. In the moonlight, the shadows on his face make him look darker, more sinister. The ridiculously sexy mask that he pushed down around his neck in the haunted house sits right below his chiseled jawline, and my fingers itch to reach up and cover his mouth with it once again. His breath is hot on my skin as he snarls at me.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Saxon?” He growls, gripping my jacket tighter and hauling me up to my tip toes.

“Let me go, Brendon,” I say, but he shakes his head. A chill runs through me, and I press my thighs together. I’ve never seen him like this before, I’ve never seen him so pissed off at me. It’s unbearably sexy.

“You’ve been a fucking brat all week, Sax, and now you’re acting even worse. You can’t just storm off on me without a word. This isn’t you. You don’t try to ditch our traditions, and you don’t roll those pretty eyes at me. I don’t know what the hell crawled up your ass but if I’ve got to toss you over my knee and spank the attitude out of you, I’ll fucking do it.”

I feel his chest rise and fall with each ragged breath as his eyes go wide, as if he’s surprised himself with the words he just said to me.

Spank the attitude out of me?

That is the last thing I ever expected Brendon to say to anyone, let alone me. The shock of it all settles low in my belly, and I squeeze my thighs together, desperate for some relief from the pounding ache between them. His pupils are blown out, his grip on my chin is so tight I fear I may be bruised there tomorrow, but I don’t care.

My big, goofy golden retriever has gone feral, and I want him. I want him so fucking bad, that I’m suddenly willing to risk everything— our friendship, his view of me, possibly even my dignity— just for a chance to see how far I can push him. Because if I'm going to do this— if I'm going to cross this line with Brendon, I'm going to make sure he knows exactly what I want, and hope like hell he'll be willing to give it to me. I whip my head, freeing myself from his hold and turn to face him.

“You want to know what my problem is, Brendon?” I hiss with a shove to his chest. His hand wraps tightly against my wrist, gripping, squeezing, marking my skin, and it’s now or never.

6

BRENDON

I feel like my body is about to burst. This fucking brat in front of me is pushing me to my goddamn limits, and it's taking every ounce of self-restraint I've built up over the years to keep myself from throwing her to the ground and showing her exactly who is in charge here. My teeth are chattering in my skull with the force of trying to keep my cool.

My cock— goddammit my cock is so fucking hard I feel like it might burst. I wish I didn't know what was going on behind the walls of that haunted house. Wish Saxon would have just stayed at home and watched Scream with me like she was fucking supposed to. Wish she knew just how deep my need to own her is.

Every second of walking those halls was like a torturous slow dance of foreplay with no promise of relief on the other end of it. Every green glowing bracelet taunted me, like the wearers were saying 'look what we have, look what we can do. Watch as we disappear down these corridors and lean in to our every desire. Enjoy your hand tonight, bucko.'

The sounds of muffled pain and pleasure echoed in my skull even beyond the loud music and screams of onlookers. The darkness provided a level of heady, sexy intensity that had my arousal peaking higher than I think I've ever felt it before.

And Saxon. God, fucking Saxon. Her small frame tucked into me as we slowly navigated the horror show was intense. I could smell her fear, could feel it in the way she trembled in my hands, and fuck if it didn't make me want to bend her over and fuck her to pieces on the fake blood coated floors.

Now, with her wrist in my hands, I can feel her pulse pounding against the delicate skin. I can see her blue veins right there, pulsing against her translucent flesh under the glow of the moon. I know when I let go, that creamy skin will darken from my hold, blue and purple marks decorating the sunflowers inked on her arm, and fuck if the thought of her covered in my bruises doesn't make my dick weep behind the zipper of my jeans. Her eyes are dark, burning with rage like she's Medusa ready to turn me to stone.

“You want to know what my problem is, Brendon?” she seethes, wiggling her arm to try to relieve herself from my hold, but it only makes me grip her tighter.

"Yes, enlighten me, Sax. Because I cannot for the life of me figure out why you're acting like I ruined your night."

"Because you did ruin my night!" She yells, her voice echoing in the dark night. "Do you know what this place is, Brendon? It's not just a haunted house. It's an underground sex club. It's a place where people come to play, to act out their fantasies. That's why I wanted to skip our movie night. That's why I didn't want you to come here with me. Because for once in my life, I wanted to do something for me. I wanted to be fucked. Really fucked, the way I wanted. I wanted to be chased, hunted, hurt. I wanted to be a man's prey, and I wanted to be shoved to the ground and forced to take his cock until I screamed. Is that what you want to hear, Brendon? That I'm fucking pissed off because I'm horny and frustrated and so fucking wet I'm going to have to throw my panties away when I get home? Because that's the truth. You couldn't just mind your own business. You had to tag along, had to be Golden Boy Brendon making sure I wasn't alone on Halloween, and now my night is ruined. So please, let go of my goddamn wrist so I can get home and fuck my vibrator."

She thrashes as she heaves her anger at me, whipping back and forth to get away from me, but I don't loosen my hold on her. All the blood in my body has flooded into my aching cock, straining to be let free from my pants, so it takes a moment for her words to start to register in my brain.

She knows the secret about the haunted house.

She was planning to come here alone tonight, to put a green bracelet on her wrist.

She wants to be chased. Hurt. Forced.

I let my eyes trail over her, down to where her tits are straining against the fabric of her dress, heaving with her heavy breaths.

In all my fantasies, I never imagined that Saxon might crave the same things as me. Things I've wanted from her since playing hide and seek with her started to make me feel things I wasn't old enough to understand.

I crave the hunt, and she's desperate to be hunted.

I could do it. I could be her predator. I want it. Need it. Need her like a drug.

"What's your safe word?" I ask, my voice coming out cool and chilly, even to my own ears.

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