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Aspen
I stared into the wide arena from the stands. This was by far the largest venue I’d ever performed in.
And I’d sold it out.
My entire winter tour had sold out, which still blew my mind. I’d been performing for years and on countless stages, but it still shocked me people came to see me. I was grateful, honored.
The arena was pretty dark now. My concert had been over for hours. This was my first date of my winter tour, so now it was typically time to relax.
Typically.
When large hands moved around my rib cage, I jumped but only on instinct. There was a reason the arena was dark, and I smiled, then gasped when those same hands gathered my breasts. They massaged my nipples through my glittery bustier. He’d told me to wear it.
“You remember the rules, snow?” Thatcher hummed into my hair from behind, and I just about melted on the concrete floor. My knees weakened, my breathing husky. “You don’t leave this arena. No one sees you but me.”
The material over his mouth brushed my ear, which let me know he’d covered it. That had been my rule. I’d let him chase me, hunt me, but only if he wore his Punisher mask.
My eyes closed, I placed my hands over his. He let my fingers glide over them, then move to his large forearms. My fingers teased the soft hairs, and even though he always let me, I still moved delicately and with intention. I wanted him to know he was safe, and I wouldn’t ever do anything he didn’t want.
I’d come to find out later Thatcher had issues with touch. It was something he hadn’t allowed me to see at first, but once he’d admitted it, I completely understood. I finally understood, and I did everything I could to make him feel safe every day.
For so long, I hadn’t understood, but now that I did, he’d never feel anything but safe and secure with me.
He made me feel the same way, this arena so dark, but I would still be exposed here. Thatcher had made sure everyone was cleared out, and my mom had had so much wine at dinner she was definitely busy tonight. She’d started seeing someone recently. Someone good and kind. He’d been the one to actually make sure she lay back on the wine tonight. She wanted to celebrate my opening date with me. Eugena Davis was finally letting down her hair and just having a good time.
We both were.
“No one sees what belongs to me, snow,” Thatcher continued, his voice gruff. He dipped a hand into my bustier, part of my final outfit during the performance tonight, and as soon as his big hand gathered my breast, I forced out a breath. “I mean it, snowflake. Test me and see what happens.”
Being a brat, I moved a hand over his cock, and he growled so deep in my ear. The grizzly sound traveled into my back, and I ran before he could tell me anything else. He didn’t let me get far, his hands around my neck. He grabbed that and my ass.
“Dirty impatient girl,” he crooned, pressing his dick between my ass cheeks. I was wearing faux leather but felt everything he had packing back there. He chuckled. “You wait. You wait for me. I’ll give you ten minutes before I find you, but that’s all you get.”
He then proceeded to count, his hands slowly releasing my body. I could get pretty far in ten minutes, but this was Thatcher. I’d seen him play countless times on the football field with large dudes who were way faster than me.
Even still, I gave him a run for his money. I took the stairwell to the floor level, but all the while I felt his presence in pursuit of me, stalking me. Thatcher wasn’t light on his feet, but he was quick.
“Snowflake,” he taunted, teasing, and in the arena, his voice traveled. I’d seen nothing but darkness before his voice got closer. “At least make this hard for me.”
Shit, I was dripping. He’d chased me a few times since we’d started dating, and it always got me wet.
I panted. “Fuck off.”
His boisterous chuckle came from somewhere in the arena, and I cursed, knowing I’d probably given my location away. It probably didn’t matter anyway, but I tried to make these chases hard for him.
“I’m taking your ass today,” he said from somewhere, and I tightened below, in both places. Fuck. “I’m taking it hard for that.”
I was sure he would. I never had been into anal sex, but something about when Thatcher was back there… He was unrelenting, vicious, and so fucking hot.
I really did try to make things hard for him. I ran away every time I heard him, but he still caught me barely into my run on the main floor. He was dramatic about it too, picking me up, and tossing me over his shoulder.
“You fucker!” I slapped at his back, my locs swaying, and his hand cracked down on my ass so hard I nearly came on his shoulder. I wriggled as the pain faded, and he chuckled.
“Oh, snowflake,” he said, and I wasn’t sure where he was taking me until we ended up on stage. Thatcher had watched the show from backstage with my mom, but nothing was like seeing him in the front row at Carnegie Hall. I’d told him I was fine that day, but I had still been nervous. I mean, I’d frozen the last time I’d played there, but seeing him in the front row… rooting me on…
It’d meant so much to me and made performing so easy. Some of his family had been there too, and it meant a lot that Wells had showed up. Obviously, we hadn’t gotten off to a great start, but he had later apologized for that. All of Thatcher’s friends had for giving me the cold shoulder at first.
Wells and I were super cool now, and he’d explained to me he had just wanted to protect his friend back then. I understood that now too. Thatcher Reed was a unicorn, a beautiful, intense being who needed to be protected at all costs. He took care of me, protected me.
