Page 39 of Samhain

“Where is he?” Ivy asked, a scowl forming between her eyebrows.

“Fucking off wherever he is.” Lex took a deep inhale and ran his free hand through his head of thick, dark hair.

“He’ll be here, darling.” I coasted my fingers down the side of Ivy’s face while she bit her bottom lip, her gray eyes unsure despite how badly she must have wanted to believe me.

The loft was a wide open area that ran the length of the house with a spare bed they kept up here for overflow guests. Aside from that, it was stacked to the brim with boxes from their parents’ places that contained old clothes, trophies from their childhoods, and costumes from Halloweens gone by. We’d come up here to find their stuff from TW, maybe even something from Ireland that would help us figure out what was going on. The lust hit us again just as we started, and we didn’t have a choice. Deciding I wanted to get some nonsexual movement in before it came back, I got up and walked to a box in the far corner.

“Old dresses, huh?” I asked, flipping open the lid.

“I have to go through them.” Ivy followed me while Lex stayed in bed, one leg bent, the sheets twisted around his hips, eyes set on us. Still the same brat he’d always been, my prince of darkness had not changed in all these years.

“Look at these.” Ivy went to the next plastic tub. “I should donate them.”

“I have an idea.” I held up a sapphire piece that flared into a mermaid skirt at the bottom. “Let’s play dress-up.”

“And I’m out.” Lex rolled out of the bed.

“Oh, come on.” I grabbed his hands. “Let me put you in Vera. She has a thing for long legs.”

“I think you should wear the Vera.” Ivy gathered a blush-colored poof of fabric that threatened to swallow me whole the minute I put it on. It was beautiful, and I remembered seeing Ivy in it at some gala a year or two ago. “I’ll wear the Tom Ford and…” She leaned in so she could whisper something in my ear. “…we’ll put Lucifer in the Anthony Wang.”

I gasped, and we both set our sights on Lex, who looked between us like a rabbit that already knew it had been trapped but was still trying to find a way out.

11

Carter

I was on set when the lust hit me like a sledgehammer behind the knees. My head went woozy, and blood rushed to my cock. I mumbled something about feeling nauseous before racing back to my trailer and pumping myself twice so I came.

The weird part was…the rest of them vibrated inside me, at the back of my mind like a splinter in my brain. I knew the instant Lex climaxed, a burst of coldness behind my eyes. Ivy came shortly after him, complementing that rush of ice with her special brand of fire. Something broke inside me when Miri finished us out, fresh dew and springtime energy.

Good fucking Lord.

I collapsed on the ground in front of my couch and panted, my face in my elbow, my other hand still down my pants, but my traitor fucking cock only got hard again. And again. And again. Nothing would stop it. The lust had taken me the same way it had in Ireland.

What the hell is happening?

Miri texted me the address, but I hadn’t had a chance to respond.

Miri: Come to DC. We’re waiting for you.

I opened the screen to do it, but another wave of lust hit me so hard, I grimaced against it, banging my fist on the floor.

I’m so screwed.

I still had two days of filming left. How the hell was I going to get through this?

By the grace of God and a helluva prayer.

I told everyone I had food poisoning, and that gave me the freedom to hit my trailer every hour or so, but those two days passed at a glacial pace. I jacked off so much, my skin burned. By the time I was free, I hadn’t eaten in forty-eight hours. My throat ached, my hands were raw, and I was so damn dehydrated, I could barely stand.

I was sure I’d lost at least fifteen pounds by the time I made it to their DC townhouse. The closer I got, the less it hurt.

The tight ball of anxiety in my chest loosened when I lugged my backpack and suitcase up the steps to their front door. If the paparazzi were watching, I didn’t care. I had to get inside. I needed them like I needed air.

“Carter Scott?” one of their bodyguards said.

“Yeah?”

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