Page 123 of The Catalyst

“I’mnotgoing to make fun of you.” I gaze at him and take in the relaxed expression on his face. Oliver offers me a small wink before he adds, “I never expected such a naughty thing out of you.”

Arching a brow at him, I smirk. “We had sex at a carnival, you made me bleed from all three holes, and a chasekinkseems out of character? Your head would spin if you heard everything I’m into.”

“Is that so?”

“What can I say? I’m a kinky bitch with alotof issues.” I shrug nonchalantly.

“Issues are nothing. Some people cope better than others, but we’re all fucked.”

“I would much rather just be fucked in the literal sense, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?” I joke, but his hand lands on mine, and his fingers close around my hand.

“That sounds like a fan-fucking-tastic idea.” He sends me a flirtatious wink before throwing open the car door and climbing out.

The car is shrouded in thick fog–so dense I can’t see where Oliver is or what direction he went in–and his unknown location has my heart racing and my panties drenched. Carefully, I open the door and climb out of the vehicle, my eyes darting around for him, but once I’m out, I can barely even make out the direction of the car.

“Oliver?” I call out for him, but I’m met with silence.

The town psychopath is playing a game, and I’m here for it.

“What? Do you want to play Marco Polo?” I joke as I run my fingers along the chipped paint of his car to guide myself around.

Then, I hear a soft chuckle from nearby, and my head whips around, trying to figure out the direction the noise came from, but it’s to no avail.

“Alright, Mr. Ghostface.” The anticipation glides down my stomach and settles between my thighs, buzzing and burning my pussy, as my breathing becomes ragged, but it’s not with exertion this time. I can’t wait to see what he has planned. “Marco.”

“Polo!”

My head whips around as his voice licks my ear, and I reach out but find empty air.

“Marco!”

“Polo.”

“Marco.”

“Polo!”

“Marco!”

“Polo!”

The muscle beating in my chest slams against my ribcage as I spin around, dashing toward his voice again and again until my eyes can’t focus on anything but the need vibrating within my body.

“Where are you?” After a minute of silence, I concede, but I’m greeted with laughter that zooms by my ear as if he ran past me, barely missing me. My mind whirls and pivots in every imaginable direction, trying to figure out how to catch him.

“Take off your clothes, and I’ll come to you, crazy girl.”

My body shudders as I stick my arms out, trying to find the car so I have some orientation of where I am, but I ran too far.

This little game of Oliver’s is even better than being chased.

I slip off my hoody down my arms, letting it fall to the ground. I push down my pants along with the blood-red thong I have on underneath. I tug my shirt over my head, dropping everything in a single pile, leaving myself completely bare in the dense fog.

At any moment, the fog could clear, and anyone within the vicinity could see me, but this is a small town, and we parked near the abandoned playground.

No one comes here anymore.

My breath catches in my chest with nervousness, but I can’t contain my sass.

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