Page 70 of The Masks She Wore

?Jack had only texted me once after I discarded my phone. It was probably a threat, but I didn’t allow myself to read it or any of the messages sent by Max.

?I was angry at him. Not because he was gone, but because of what led up to him leaving. He claimed me in some psychotic ritual, told me my name wasn’t Rae Bennett, drugged me, and then disappeared for three days.

?Fuck him for doing that.

?Fuck Max for lying to me and then finger-fucking me.

?Fuck mom for whatever she had done to make me forget everything that ever happened to me.

?I wasn’t dealing with it. Any of it. I didn’t want to face any of it right now, all I wanted to do was forget.

?The more I thought about that day, the angrier I became, so the only solution I had was not thinking about anything at all.

?I pulled on a pair of tight, dark-blue jeans, a black belt, a dark rose colored halter top, and a black zip-up hoodie. Once I started dancing, I was going to get hot, so I needed something to easily strip off during my inebriated state.

?I called a cab, made sure I had my phone, keys, and plenty of cash in my over-the-shoulder purse before I finally headed out the door well past 10.

?The cabbie pulled up to the entrance of the port a half an hour later. I gave him some money and walked through the dark shipping yard, searching for the container marked ‘7B83’.

?The place was eerie. Dark and deserted, not a sound to be heard until I got close enough to the containers to finally hear the music.

?The parties here always took place in multiple containers, each one holding a different ambiance. It was up to the partygoers to decide where they wanted to be or if they wanted to jump around a bit before settling.

?7B83 was the main container. The one to the left was more techno. The one to the right was darker themed. There was one filled with pop music, disco, the sex-dungeon, and finally the one you foundwhen you needed any kind of fix. From alcohol to drugs and everything in between.

?I paid for some Molly and a few joints before downing a few glasses of alcohol and heading to the main container.

?Hours passed.

?I lost my sweater within minutes of arriving. I smoked four joints, drank a few more glasses of vodka before finally, later on in the night, taking that Molly.

?This is what I needed. No thoughts, no feelings, just this. Just drugs, alcohol, and some good music.

?Probably good. I had honestly stopped listening to anything but the beat after hour three, drink eight, and joint number 5.

?Fuckit was so inherently sexual the way the music slithered over my skin, the notes floating through the air, entering through every orifice of my body in such an intimate way.

?I wanted to fuck the music. Grind my cunt against the notes until I came from the beat of the base.

?I wanted to fucksomething. Anything. God, I felt like I could go home and fuck my toys for hours, but I needed something more than that. I needed a living, breathing toy. I needed someone to move under me as I grinded against their cock. To pin my hips down, to grunt and groan and lose control as I rode them into sweet, blissful oblivion.

?It wasn’t long before I found myself outside, unsure of how I got there,wandering the shipping containers in a daze, my pussy aching for any kind of contact. Everything felt so good. The way my clothes touched my skin, the way the freezing air teased my hardened nipples.

?God, I wanted to fuck. I needed to fuck. I was going to suffocate if I didn’t find someone to fuck.

?“You are in so much trouble,” Jack snarled in my ear, immediately causing my pussy to throb.

?I didn’t remember calling him, but Hell, who was I to deny myself the chance at pushing him to the brink of losing his absolute shit?

?I fell back against a container, the music now faded in the distance, my hair sticking to my damp skin as the chill did something to me, I couldn’t quite describe.

?“Yeah?” I half-moaned as I closed my eyes. “How much trouble?” I pushed, sliding my hand over my chest, my stomach, electric shocks flittering through my body. God, I just wanted to be touched, to befucked. Really and properly fucked. Like he had done in that maze. That’s what I wanted. I wanted him to wrap his hand around my throat and shove his cock so deep inside of me that I would never recover. I wanted to taste his cum, to lick his neck, to suck on his tongue.

?“Are you on drugs?” he asked me, the rage in his voice only causing my thighs to clench.

?“How much trouble?” I asked again. My heart was beating far too fast, my breathing labored. I felt like I could cum if he just talked to me in that voice. In that half-growl, raspy, desperate voice he used when he was balls deep in me.

?“Rae, where are you? Tell me right now or—”

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