Page 16 of Teach’s Hayride with the Baller

Zack looked down at me. “Not tonight,” he murmured as he swung me into the darkness, and the door shut behind us, closing out all light.

A gasp left my lips for a fraction of a breath and then his mouth was on mine. This wasn’t the gentle, long kiss from before that heated with the hay ride through the corn maze. Zack Dawson started heavy and hot and went spicier from there. His tongue pushed into my mouth, drawing an instant moan from me as jolts shot along my arms and lower, between my legs. His body ground against mine, pinning me to the wall.

“The second floor is all ours, but only for a little while. And I can’t promise your tights will survive. Do you want that sort of tour, Miss Templeton?" he rasped, pulling back to let me breathe. “Or should I take you through the house the regular way, and let you get scared like the rest of the town?”

The glitter in his eyes promised me he was serious, that this was a one-time offer.

I reached between us, running my fingers across his bottom lips. Zack’s breaths were slow and controlled, even.

Mine were ragged and short as his hands closed firm on my ribs and squeezed. Once.

“Second floor,” I managed, before my courage deserted me. “Please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Determination flared in his eyes. He shoved at a wall–what I thought was a wall beside me. That flat surface disappeared and we sank into an all pervading gloom. If I’d thought I knew darkness before, it was nothing to what encompassed us now.

I clung to Zack’s shirt, certain I would lose him in the void. My toes tapped at the edges of something solid — stairs. His grip never lessened as I climbed behind him. How many flights were we doing? I tried to count and tripped over my own toes. Zack muttered something as we turned a corner, then another. All sense of direction left me in the darkness. Something flapped above my head. I clamped a hand over my mouth, suppressing the scream that built there. Then warm hands wrapped around my waist and I was airborne.

“Keep that pretty little scream locked in for the next few hours, and no one will know you’re not part of the display, okay, honey?” Zack’s voice dripped with despair as he lifted me higher, wrapping my legs around his waist. One found my wrist, and he paused as my brain churned.

Did he just say a few hours?

“Any fears or trauma you need to tell me about?” Something cool wrapped around my wrist.

“No?” I peered into his face. Not that he was more than a few angles and glittering darkness of hollow sockets at this point. The same noise flapped above our heads. High above us.

I bit my lips and panted.

“Good.” Zack tugged the strap around my wrist and slowly, giving me all the chances in the world to tell him no, brought the other to join it. “When the rest of the town comes to visit the house, we will be here, just another part of the display, jerking around like disjointed dolls. All you gotta do is not scream. Okay, Miss Templeton?” his tone warned me again that this was not a game.

Not even close.

I exhaled every inch of air in my lungs and tried to take another breath. Fail. what’s the noise above us?” I asked as he secured my hands above my head firmly. I tugged, and couldn’t get free.

“Last season’s tornado tried to take the house,” he said without preamble, all sense of desire eradicated from his voice. “I’ve been fixing the house ever since. What Mister G allows. But the tarp is the best we could do for tonight, Jordan and me. That’s his grandson.” He leaned forward and kissed me hard. “I know you love the tights.”

His hand pressed between my legs and he tugged. Hard.

The tights tore and I bit my lip, then his, preventing a cry.

“Good girl,” Zack approved. “Keep that up and we can play all night long.”

“All night?” I said faintly. “Are there lights?”

He licked my bottom lip. “Yes.” Something white and lacy flashed in my peripheral vision. A mask with ears—bunny ears—lowered over my face. “Can you see?”

I peered at the world, still darkened, through a haze of floral lace. The rest of the mask was cool on my face, like plastic that obscured the rest of my face, apart from my mouth. “Yes⁠—”

Zack kissed me again, and pressed his fingers against my pussy, rubbing gently. “Good,” he murmured. “Legs tight, honey.”

I ached to run my fingers through his hair. Or unbutton his shirt and touch his chest. Or touch him anywhere, really.

“Do I have to be tied up,” I mewled. “You get to touch me.”

“You wanted the experience.” His voice was closer than I expected, right under my ear. Warm lips touched my throat and I sighed, tipping my head back. Tension left me as he licked and sucked at my pulse point until I was a wet, cooing mess in his arms. The hard bulge of him rubbed against me where he’d torn my tight, and I pressed back.

“Please,” I whispered, unsure if I wasn't supposed to be making noise yet.

“Already?” Amusement tinted his voice. Light fingers traced over my clit, rubbing slicked circles over my bare, swollen flesh.