Page 40 of Twilight Mask

“When?” She looks up and her eagerness makes my heart skip a beat.

“As soon as you want.” I walk to the first light and turn it off. “I marked the trail back to the exit for you. Just follow the arrows.”

“Arrows?” Her face scrunches with confusion. “What arrows?”

I turn off the next two lights and the space plunges into darkness.

Enormous orange arrows glow from where I painted them on the floor, leading back to the hall and the outside door.

“Oh. Those arrows.” She laughs softly. “You thought of everything.”

“Goodnight, little demon.”

I watch her for another second, staying as quiet as I can, before turning away.

This is a mistake. I’m falling too deep into whatever we’re doing, and I need to be more careful. But as I walk to the opposite side of the warehouse, I’m already planning our next game, because as much as I rationally know that she’s dangerous and going to be the death of me, I can’t help but want more of her.

Chapter 18

Laura

I’m only half present as I try to work on my sculptures.

My mind’s still in that warehouse. For a little while, my life felt right. It was like the world clicked into place and made sense when Jackal tied my wrists behind my back and sucked my nipples. I had the best orgasm of my entire life, and I swear I can still feel that huge toy between my legs, but mostly I hear his voice in my ear, calling me pretty, telling me how good I look and how much he wants me.

It’s distracting. I can’t remember the last time I struggled with a piece, but this new jackal ear I’m making won’t come out right. The lines are wrong and the silhouette isn’t matching what I have in my head, and I can’t seem to figure out how to fix it.

All because I’m dick obsessed.

No—I’m game obsessed. I haven’t even felt any dick yet. Just a huge rubber one.

I don’t know what to do with myself. And to make it all worse, I keep coming back to those last moments we had, sitting side by side on the blanket alone in that warehouse, our shoulders touching, my body still tingling from the aftereffects of the orgasm.

I opened up to him. And I swear, he wanted to open up to me, but something stopped him and I don’t know what. It was like he bounced off whatever was in his head and it made him run away, and I want to understand why.

Except that isn’t how our relationship works. It’s supposed to be all about this game—so why do I want to talk to him?

I end up pouring myself a glass of wine at two in the afternoon. I’m dusty with rock debris and frustrated from a bad morning of subpar work, and I’m not sure how I’m going to get out of this funk.

When I look at my phone and make a decision.

I can sit around wondering all I want, or I can just do what feels good.

I’m not sure if this will work, but I open up my messages and find the texts from Jackal. I type and hit send, stomach a butterfly mess, and take a few sips of wine to calm myself.

Laura: I keep thinking about you. It’s a real problem.

Jackal: Is that why you’re drinking so early in the day?

I smile to myself and look over at the living room camera. It must be able to just barely spot me. I raise my glass.

Laura: Cheers to having the biggest rubber dick imaginable deep inside of me last night.

Jackal: I could get bigger, if you like.

I laugh to myself, because he probably could. I type a response, feeling a little cheeky.

Laura: How about we stick with normal, human sizes? Like yours, for example.

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