by Sadie King
“That’s true,” he says.
“And that’s where you keep the bats.”
“Also true. What else?”
“You like to stay in the dark.”
“True.”
“And you only come out at night.”
“Sometimes true.”
“That she hears you howling.”
He bends down to get a cloth out of a cupboard.
“So how do you explain all that?” I ask.
He comes back and kneels in front of me, placing the bowl on the floor.
“It’s a big house, and I don’t need much space. So I shut down half of it.”
He dips the edge of the cloth in water.
“This may hurt.” He gently lifts up my skirt, and the skin on my knees prickle under his touch. I take a sharp intake of breath. “I’ll try to be gentle,” he says.
I nod, letting him think it’s because it hurts, but the truth is that his touch on my bare leg is sending shivers right up to my lady parts. Watching those big meaty hands gently dab the grit from the scrape on my knee is sending my body into a spin.
He dabs the cloth in the water again and continues his ministrations.
“A family of bats moved into one of the chimneys, and I let them stay. They’re a thriving colony now. That’s why I don’t let anyone up there. Bats can be vicious if they think they’re under attack.”
He reaches out the other hand and lifts my skirt slightly to get to the top of the scrape. Oh my god. There’s a rush of heat between my legs.
“It doesn’t look deep,” he says.
I can only nod. He presses the cloth onto my leg, dabbing gently for someone so big. I wonder what it would feel like when he wasn’t being so gentle. To have those big hands running all over my body, rough and urgent.
“I use energy efficient lights throughout the house which you can’t often see from outside.”
He presses his thumb into the flesh of my thigh, and his hand lingers a little too long. Oh my god, this complete stranger is fondling my knee. I should pull away; I should run out the door and never come back. But his touch feels so reassuring and right, and what I really want is for him to run that hand all the way up my thigh. As if reading my thoughts, his finger slides up my leg. I catch my breath, and I’m sure he must hear my heart hammering in my chest.
“I often stay out all night.” He leans in and his look is wicked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. His hand slides all the way up my leg, his fingers resting on the warm flesh of my inner thigh.
“How about the howling?” My voice comes out as a whisper.
“That’s something you’ll have to find out for yourself.” He leans all the way in, and before I know what I’m doing his lips crash into mine. They’re hot and persistent, and I open my lips for him, welcoming his tongue into my mouth. His fingers graze my damp panties, causing my nerve endings to tingle, and a gush of wetness explodes out of me. He hooks a finger under my panties and pulls the fabric aside. I open my thighs for him as he brushes a finger against my wet folds.
I lean back and close my eyes when all of a sudden there’s a loud banging on the door.
4
Lucas
I slide my hand out from under her skirt and push my hard-on down as I stand up.
The banging continues, persistent and urgent.
I stride to the door, angry at whoever has interrupted my easy victory. Another five minutes, and I would have had my dick buried in that sweet, wet pussy.
As I walk into the entryway, a muffled female voice yells from behind the door.
“You’d better open up.”
I hear a groan behind me. Mya has followed me into the hall.
“It’s my sister,” she says.
I open the door, and an angry younger version of Mya almost pounds me on the chest with her raised fist.
“What the hell are you doing with my sister?” she asks.
The resemblance is powerful. Same eyes, same mouth, same dark hair. But the style is completely different. The sister’s wearing a full face of make-up, with dark smoky eyes and bright red lips. Her hair is pulled back into a slick ponytail, and the ends are blonde as if they’ve been dipped in bleach. It’s an artificial look, so much in contrast to Mya’s naturalness. She’s wearing a short leather skirt and thigh high boots. I’m sure Mya said she had a younger sister, but this girl looks old beyond her years.
“What are you doing here?” Mya asks.
“What the hell are you doing here?” counters the sister. “I got your text. What the fuck?”
“I told you I’d be home by nine.”
“You told me to call the police if you weren’t home by nine.”
I feel a pang of disquiet that Mya took my instructions so much to heart, and that she doesn’t trust me. But then again, she probably shouldn’t.
“It’s not nine yet,” says Mya, checking her watch.
“Did you think I was gonna wait around for my sister to get murdered?”
“So you called the police?”
“Of course not. I came around here myself.”
“How did you get in?” I ask, interrupting the siblings’ spat.
“I climbed the fence,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“I must remember to get a security check,” I say. She folds her arms and eyes me suspiciously.
“It’s time to go, Mya. We have to work, remember.”
Mya steps forward. “I remember, jeez, Keep your hair on.”
“You need a lift somewhere?” I ask.
“I drove here,” says the sister.
“You what?” says Mya. “If you get caught driving without a license again, that’s it.”
The sister rolls her eyes. It’s obviously a lecture she’s heard before.
“I mean it, Brit,” continues Mya. “They could separate us; you know that, right? They could still take you away from me.”
“Spare me the lecture, Mya. I’m almost eighteen. They can’t do anything after that.”
Mya takes a deep breath, and I can visibly see her struggling to push down her anger. After a moment she says calmly, “We’ll talk about this in the car.”
Brit storms off toward the road.
“Sorry you had to witness that,” says Mya. “I’d better go.” She starts off after her sister, and I follow.
“I’ll open the gate for you. Unless you want to climb over?” She shakes her head and throws me a thin smile.
I can tell her mind’s preoccupied. She’s behaving like the parent here, and it’s pulling on something deep inside me.
“Are you her guardian?” I ask.
Mya nods.
“You don’t have any parents?”
She shakes her head.
“They passed away in a boating accident three years ago. It’s been just the two of us ever since.”
I stop in my tracks. “I’m so sorry.” She walks on, her arms folded, heels clicking on the asphalt. I jog to catch up to her. “If there’s anything you need. Anything at all.”
She smiles at me. “Thank you. That’s kind of you. But we manage fine on our own.”
Something catches her eye, and she frowns. “Brit come down from there. Lucas is going to open the gate for us.”
I look up in time to see her sister hoisting a leg over the top railing. She gives us a sarcastic smile and jumps down on the other side, landing heavily on her heeled feet.
Mya sighs. “Sorry,” she says.
I push the button to open the gate. I could have done it from the house, but there’s something about this girl. I want to spend every moment I can with her. Maybe it’s her innocence I’m drawn to, or maybe it’s the memory of her soft pussy against my fingertips.
She turns to go, and I reach out my arm and clasp her shoulder. She turns to face me expectantly.
“Mya...”
Beeeep
Brit’s in the car already and has her hand slammed down on the horn.
“Brit!” Mya calls after her.
Brit bounds over to me.
“Stay away from my sister,” she says. She’s right up close, and I can smell cigarettes on her breath and peppermint as if she’s tried to disguise the smell.
“I’m sure Mya is old enough to look after herself.”
“She is. But she’s not experienced with men. And I’ve heard all about you, Mr. Lucas Bancroft. You’ve got quite the reputation. Thinks he’s so rich he can take what he wants. Well, not my sister. That’s why I came over here to get her. You want a quick fuck, find a girl like me. But Mya’s still a virgin. She’s not for the likes of you.”
“Brit!” Mya calls again from the car.
Before I can answer, Brit spins around and jogs back to the car.
“Keep your hair on,” she says to Mya.
My mind is reeling as they pull away from the curb. I should be offended, but she’s so close to the truth that it hurts. A virgin. I was about to deflower a virgin, for no other reason than that I liked the look on her innocent face.
Just one more innocent piece of the world I was prepared to ruin for my own gain. For my own selfish desire. I slam the gate shut and saunter back to the house. Brit’s right. If I want a woman, I should stick to my own kind: heartless and world weary. And I should definitely stay away from Mya.
5
Mya
“What was all that about?” I ask Brit as we pull away from the mansion.
“What was what?”
“Jumping out of the car like that?”
“I asked if he had a spare cigarette.”
“Brit! I thought you’d given those up.”
“Yeah, well, he didn’t have any, so you don’t need to worry.”
“I do worry. I worry about you constantly. You can’t keep going like this; you’re still a minor.”
“I’m almost eighteen.”
“You’re not though. You’re seventeen and a half. You’ve got six months to go until you can do what you like. But while you’re still in my care, you live by my rules.”
“Chill out, Mya. You’re so uptight.”
“I just don’t want you ruining your chances of getting into a good college.”
“What if I don’t want to go to college? What if I want to have some fun instead?”
“You’re going to college. No question. I wasn’t able to, but you can. It’s what Mom and Dad would have wanted.”
“Well, what if it’s not what I want?”
“We’re not doing this Brit, not tonight. I’m working hard for you to stay in school. Don’t throw that away.”
“You don’t need to work so hard. You don’t need to come to this job tonight.”
“And leave you to go alone? To a job where they’ve asked for female hosts only? What’s a host anyway?”
“They said we’ll be waitressing.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not sending you out to waitress, slash host, a private party on your own.”
“It seems I’m not the one who needs a chaperone.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means what were you doing with Lucas Bancroft anyway?”
I can feel the heat rising up my neck, and I stare straight ahead at the road. I’m still in shock that I let a complete stranger run his hands over my pussy. And the most shocking thing is that I liked it. No, I loved it! And if Brit hadn’t shown up banging on the door, I would have let him do a whole lot more.
“You always get on me for wanting to have a good time, and now here you are letting yourself get seduced by the man with the worst reputation in town.”
“Well, I’ve never heard of him.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. But believe me, there are a lot of woman who have.”
I can’t help but smile. “Ah little sister, so you came to save my virtue?”
“Don’t be a dick, Mya. I came to get you because I don’t want to be late for this job.”
I sigh. Of course she was only thinking about herself. She always does. It’s usually me that’s bailing her out of trouble.
I’ve been Brit’s legal guardian for three years and it hasn’t been easy. She went off the rails when Mom and Dad died, and she’s never really found her way back. I try my best to keep her on the straight and narrow, but it’s so freaking hard.
She’s right though. How am I meant to set a good example by wandering into some strange man’s house? I don’t know what came over me. I remember his hand on my thigh, and a shiver runs through me. I shake the thought from my head. I just need Brit to stay focused for another six months, to finish school and get into a good college.
I just need to hold it together for six more months. I need to set a good example. Be the model sister, mother, and guardian all rolled into one. And that means staying away from strange men, no matter how sexy they are.
I take a deep breath and put on a bright smile.
“I just need to head home quickly to change, and then we’re ready to go. What kind of party doesn’t start ‘til 10 pm anyway?”
Her eyes twinkle. “That, big sister, is what we’re going to find out.”
6
Lucas
It’s after midnight when I mount the stairs of the secluded country mansion. I show my invitation to the doorman. He inspects it carefully, and then opens the door. Another man pulls aside a red velvet drape and ushers me through.
I’m assaulted by a wall of hazy smoke and incense. Fires blaze in the grates, and the chandeliers are hung with real candles. It’s loud with the babble of conversation, the cackle of laughter, and the clink of wine glasses.
Partygoers in loose interpretation of Halloween dress fill the room, overflowing up the grand staircase and into the halls.
It’s already hot under the wolf mask, and the smell of candle wax and woodsmoke is making my head swim.
A waitress in a playboy bunny outfit comes past, and I grab a glass of champagne. I have to lift the mask to knock it back, and as it falls back into place someone grasps me by the arm.
“Lucas? I thought it was you under there.” It’s a woman in a black leather catsuit.
“I was hoping you’d be here tonight,” she says, flashing me a seductive smile. “Although I don’t know why you have to wear such a scary looking mask.”
“It’s Halloween,” I say.
She tilts her head back and laughs as if I’ve just said the funniest thing in the world.
I take her hand off my arm and start to move away.
“Might see you later upstairs?” she calls after me.
“Maybe,” I say.
I weave my way through a room thick with costumed partygoers. I pass a woman wearing nothing but red body paint. Her breasts are painted as two red carnations, open and full. She eyes me as I walk past, and a red hand reaches out to stroke my wolf face.
“You animal,” she murmurs as I squeeze past.
I keep walking and almost trip over a man dressed as a lion on his hands and knees. A woman in a witch’s cape straddles his back. Her cape hangs open, revealing a black lacy bra with peek-a-boo slits where her nipples poke through. He bucks underneath her, and she throws her head back and laughs, a high-pitched cackle like broken glass scraping together.
I push past them and almost collide with a woman in a large crinoline gown.
She shoots out a hand to steady herself. Her eyes are wide and dreamy, and she fixes them on me.
“You want a turn?” she says.
I wonder what she means, but then I notice a pair of feet poking out from beneath her skirts. She follows my gaze.
“Oops.” She readjusts her skirts over the feet.
She resumes eye contact with me, her smile mischievous and inviting. A gasp escapes her lips, and her mouth
falls open, her eyes widening. For a moment I’m fascinated, but then an image of Mya flashes into my head. Her innocent, artless smile in comparison to this brash woman, in comparison to everyone here.
I suddenly feel an uneasiness in my stomach. I tear myself away from her gaze and head for the stairs. It’s a wide open staircase with red velvet carpet. As I head up, I pass a woman in a bondage outfit leading a man by a leash attached to a leather collar around his neck. She winks at me as they go past.
Off the landing there’s a wide hallway with several closed doors and a bouncer standing guard by each. I go to the first room, and he gives me a curt nod and opens the door.
It takes a while for my eyes to adjust to the dark, but I don’t need to see to know what’s going on. The grunts and moans are enough to let me know. I press my back to the wall, the sickness in my stomach growing.
I hear the sound of the man next to me undoing his belt buckle.
Suddenly I need to get out of here, to get some air. I knock twice, and the bouncer opens the door.
“You might prefer the lavender room.” He nods across the hall. “Women only, but anyone can watch,”
I push past him and head back to the landing.
A waitress goes past, and I grab a glass of water and lift my mask to throw it down my throat.
I lean my palms on the banister and watch the scene in the main room below. My heart is racing, and it’s not because I’m turned on, far from it. I feel a sickness in my gut like someone’s twisting a blunt knife. I don’t know if it’s the heat, or the smells, or the champagne, or the shameless display of unchecked carnal desire and the knowledge that I’m usually at the center of it.
I think of the innocent Mya, and what she’d think of me if she knew what I really was.
I’m disgusted at myself for what I am, and for what I’ve done in my life.
I take a few deep breaths trying to get my heartbeat under control. I watch a waitress trying to navigate around the woman in the crinoline dress. The waitress holds the drink tray over her head, struggling to get past the wide skirts. Her outfit looks too tight for her full figure, and the ears are sliding off. She turns around, and my stomach contracts. It’s her. Mya. She’s trussed up in a playboy bunny outfit and her face is painted with make-up, but it’s definitely her.
