“I’m probably gonna murder you.” His arm cinches tighter and holds me captive. Though it’s freezing out, I’ll gladly walk toward my doom, so long as he keeps me warm on the trek. “Maybe you should call Drake to come save you from me?”
I snort and snuggle in closer under his arm.
“Did you like another man’s attention tonight, Vivian?”
He leads me past an unlocked gate and across a gravel yard until we arrive at heavy steel hangar doors. But they’re not locked, either. Tugging them apart, he creates a gap just big enough for an adult to pass through, then once we do, shuts them behind us.
Anxiety kicks into high gear when the only light in this room—provided by the gap in the open doors—vanishes, and my eyes struggle to adapt to the complete blackness. “M-Matt?”
Nerves pummel my system and leave me breathless. Every second he remains silent, every moment he doesn’t reach out and take my hands, feels like a lifetime.
“Matt!”
“Follow my voice, beautiful.”
My body turns in his direction, my ears attuned and eagerly searching for my next clue.
The darkness inside this place is next-level; a complete blackout but for the glow of random machinery buttons in the distance.
“Matt?”
“Let’s play a game,” he murmurs from my right. So I turn again, as he adds, “Since your performance with another man tonight implies you like them.”
“Oh god.” Giddiness swarms in my blood until I’m almost woozy. “This doesn’t sound like a game I have any chance of winning.”
He chuckles from a few feet away, fractionally to my left, so I correct course. “Oh, you’ll win,” he hums, throaty and seductive. “I promise, Anarchy. You’ll win. Just follow my voice—and be careful not to trip on anything.”
“How can you…” I reach out ahead of me as anticipation makes way for stress. The thought of diving headfirst toward concrete makes my palms sweat. “How do you know where everything is?”
“Because I shut this place down a couple weeks ago,” he whispers directly into my ear.
I startle to a stop so his arms encircling me are the only reason I don’t swizzle straight into the ground.
“They had a small fire,” he explains, but I’m entirely focused on his hand, slipping into the front of my jeans. “A machine went rogue, and the alarms went off. My crew was called out.” He slides his fingers inside my pussy and holds me up when my knees want to buckle. “We put the fire out and shut the place down until they could show proof of repairs.”
“Matt…” I drop my head to his shoulder and pant. “God.”
“We reopened them today, since they got things back up to code.” He grabs my jaw with his free hand and tilts my head until our lips clash. Until his tongue dives in and intoxicates my worries away. “That’s why it’s not as cold in here as it is out there.”
“Because it caught on fire?”
He chokes out a laugh and pumps his fingers. But he walks around me until his chest presses to my back and his arm drapes over my shoulder, then he starts us forward. “Because of the machinery, silly girl.”
I gasp in surprise when my knees hit something solid, and my hands drop to rough, textured steel. But it’s hot, so my hands shoot away again in surprise. In expectation of pain.
“They run these things for twelve hours a day.” He folds me forward, unyielding, even as my body fights to stay away from the heat. “The steel is four inches thick all over.” He presses my chest to the hot steel and places his free hand on the back of my neck to keep me down. “It’s hot, Ana. But it’s not burning you, so stop freaking out.”
“My brain says…” I gulp in fresh air and relax against the machine. “It says ‘hot!’”
“Because you can’t see. You have no fucking clue what surrounds you, so you’re in survival mode. Your body senses heat, so to stay safe, it propels you away.” He kicks my ankles apart, the action violent and jarring, so my breath comes out in a gust of panic. “But if you give it just a second, you realize it’s only warm. Pleasantly, so.”
Stealing his hand from my jeans and leaving me reeling, he unsnaps the button on them instead, and hums when I cry out.
He’s too rough. Too crass. My head swims from lack of oxygen, and my brain screams, ‘This is too much!’.
But I’ll be damned if I can walk away.
“Are your instincts saying the same about me, Vivian?” He slips my jeans down, so I’m bent over a steamy machine with my pants around my ankles. “It’s dark in here,” he murmurs. “Your instincts are working in overdrive. Warm feels hot, and daring feels dangerous.” I catch the telltale clink of his belt as he unbuckles it, and then the sound of his zipper being lowered. “Do you wanna run away from me right now?”