Page 97 of The King of Halloween
He could spend the night doing what he always did—hobnobbing with people who had connections and getting in a dance or two alone. But this year was different. He wasn’t alone, for one.
Adam pulled off the pumpkin head. Its welcoming grin and black empty eyes stared at him.
He thought he needed this, to be welcomed, to be safe. Maybe…maybe tonight needed something different, something special.
Light caught on a pair of silver rings, and Adam smiled.
Something…naughty.
?
He’s coming.
Okay, not like that. He better not be. Unless he’s pregaming, then… Damn it, why am I picturing him stroking himself while in his full suit?
The fact that he has the pumpkin head on means I’m doomed, right? Glad I know.
Raj knew he should be focused on the ball. It’d been a madhouse for the last twelve hours to get everything working and close enough to ready. Even with his skull pounding in the back of his head, that full night of sleep did him wonders. He flew through what’d been a struggle for weeks.
It might have also been that lanky man lying beside him in bed, casually tugging on Raj’s cock while he whispered everything he had planned tonight in his ear. They were gonna need a lot more lube and maybe a pull-up bar.
The DJ booth screeched, and a spotlight swung to the door. “What what!” some kid in a rat costume shouted from above him. “Look who’s in the house!”
Everyone paused, turning to take in the newest entry. This had to be him. Raj adjusted his shirt, the ruffled blouse left open down to his navel to show off as much of his chest hair as he could. The cummerbund constricted his midsection, but the red and white striped pants hugged his ass. He’d finished his dangerous and erotic man of the seven seas outfit with a domino mask, a sword at his side, and the requisite pirate hat. It wasn’t anything game-changing, but he hoped Adam would like it.
Raj stuck his chin out, then he rested his hand nonchalantly on his sword, waiting for his pumpkin prince to come.
And come, and come.
“It’s Mrs. Melnar. What what!” the DJ shouted.
The old lady sneered and raised her handbag to stop the light from getting in her eyes. “What?” she shouted, but the response was the pulsating music starting back up.
People seemed to be having a good time, at least. The ballroom was filled with locals and his guests. He had pulled in a couple of the ghosts from his haunt and had set them up just out of reach of the drunks. Not that it stopped a few from having a full conversation with a woman missing her lower half hanging off the wall.
It was a good party, no doubt. The food was delicious, a mix of a lot of local favorites and every pumpkin-themed dessert imaginable. The drinks were watered down, but not outrageous. And someone was in charge of adding dry ice to the punch on the hour. The pumpkin bowl writhed and bubbled a twisted green, not slowing people down for a second.
Everything was great except for one thing. Where’s Ad—?
“Mr. Chowdery!”
Taking a deep breath, Raj turned to the exuberant mayor. “It’s Choudhary.”
“What is?”
“My name. You pronounce it Shawd-aree. Not chowder with a y. And if that’s too much of a tongue twister, you can just call me Raj.”
The uneasy glint in his face softened, and he laughed. “Raj. Got it. This is quite the spectacle. You did a wonder, my boy. We’ve never had a better show for the ball.”
“Most of this is Marianne’s doing,” Raj said.
The mayor nodded like he heard but didn’t understand his giving credit to a woman. “Am I correct? Is the birders society going to be hosting their Christmas party here?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Splendid news for both of us. They have a lot of money behind them.”
Birds were nice to look at, sure, but Raj never thought of watching them as being a fancy hobby like polo or cricket. “I didn’t know birds were such a big deal in Anoka.”
