Chapter 6

The air in the private back room of the haunted house attraction was thick, not just with the synthetic fog that had drifted in from the main attraction, but with the heavy, musky scent of our own sweat and arousal. The walls were lined with cheap black velvet, the kind that absorbs sound and makes the space feel like a womb or a tomb, depending on how you looked at it. I was on my knees on the plush, slightly worn carpet, my knees aching from the pressure, but I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was the weight of him above me, the way his shadow swallowed me whole. He had stripped off his tour guide vest, the one with the little pumpkin pin on it, and tossed it carelessly onto a nearby prop table. Now he was just a mountain of muscle and authority, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal the damp skin of his chest. He watched me with those dark, predatory eyes, the kind that made my stomach do flips. He knew I was waiting for permission. He always knew. "Look at you, baby girl," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the