Page 77 of Lured By Shadows

And suddenly—

Cold hands. Emerald eyes. Restrained hunger. The invisible tether.

“Culver.” His name slipped out before I could stop it, raw and quiet and far too real.

Carter stilled. His cock twitched sharply inside me.

“What?” he asked, voice cracking around the word.

I blinked up at him, pulse slamming unevenly through my chest while my fingers drifted lazily along his neck, searching for an escape route.

“I asked if you were close,” I lied breathlessly.

He grunted, suspicion fading fast once instinct took over again. His focus dropped back between our bodies while his thrusts picked up with the same sloppy urgency as before.

“Inside?” he groaned.

I huffed a small humorless laugh. “Hell no.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling out abruptly.

His fist wrapped around his cock, stroking himself with desperate speed while slick arousal coated his shaft. He held it close to my face, showing me exactly where he’d been buried moments earlier. I watched him with detached curiosity before my tongue flicked out to taste the mixture of us from the tip.

His eyes hooded instantly, and a groan ripped from his throat.

It didn’t take long before thick ropes of cum spilled across my face and cheek, hot, messy, and painfully physical. He worked himself through every last pulse before collapsing beside me with a satisfied sigh loud enough to fill the room.

Eventually, I pushed myself upright, brushing tangled hair off my shoulders, feeling the dried stickiness cooling on my skin. Carter zipped his pants and sat up, already mentally stepping out of the moment, the same way people closed out browser tabs they never intended to save. He didn’t say anything while I licked the remnants off the corner of my mouth and grabbed a discarded shirt from the floor to wipe my cheek. I wasn’t meaning for it to look seductive, but it was just a cleanup.

“Will you take me home?” I asked, my voice low enough that it barely rose above the thumping bass downstairs.

For a heartbeat, I honestly expected him to refuse. Boys like him rarely stuck around after the first orgasm. But his gaze drifted down my naked body, and he swallowed hungrily before clearing his throat. “Yeah,” he said, his voice roughened by the aftermath. “’Course. Wouldn’t leave ya here like this.”

Relief and resignation tangled beneath my ribs. I turned away from him to collect my clothes, my mind already drifting to how this night would fade into the background. My panties were balled up near the foot of the bed, and my shirt was tangled beneath his shoes. I slipped into them mechanically. I didn’t feel romantic or fulfilled or powerful.

“We don’t have to leave right away,” I muttered as I pulled my arms through the straps of my top. “Unless you’re about done here.”

“We can dip, yeah,” he replied a little too quickly, his voice ricocheting against the walls, light and unbothered.

I stepped into the cramped bathroom before anything else could be said. The fluorescent light flickered overhead, harsh and unflattering, as I grabbed a wad of rough toilet paper and blotted at my face again. I avoided the mirror completely. I didn’t want to see what expression was waiting for me there. I didn’t want to see the girl who gave her body away just to outrun a ghost.

A loud knock rattled the bedroom door, impatient and sloppy. “Hurry up!”

Carter stepped forward, shouting back without missing a beat. “Yeah, we’ll be right out, mate.”

The response from the hallway was a mix of giggles, flirtation, and voices buzzing with alcohol, unbothered by anything beyond the next drink or the next body. When I stepped out again, Carter didn’t try to touch me or make small talk. We were strangers again. Strangers who’d just borrowed each other’s skin for a while.

“I’m ready,” I said softly.

He nodded, and we slipped out of the room. The couple waiting outside pushed past us with an eagerness bordering on impatience. They barely glanced at Carter. Their attention locked on me instead with raised brows, knowing grins, and the unspoken judgment people saved for girls who didn’t bother pretending innocence. Their expressions said everything: We know exactly what you just did. I held their gaze, then looked away first. I had no interest in winning that sort of game.

We headed down the stairs, the music pressing against our bodies in thick waves, lights flashing across hazy faces and spilled drinks. The chaos of it felt unreal now, like I was walking underwater. Halfway to the door, my gaze snagged on a familiar figure across the room. Breeanna.

She didn’t approach, but her eyes tracked us with precision keen enough to cut. When her gaze flicked to Carter, something raw swelled beneath the mascara and perfect lip gloss. It was enough to make my breath catch.

She loved him, or thought she did. And I was the accident that walked into her battlefield without knowing the rules.

My stomach twisted with realization. I wasn’t competing with her because I didn’t even want him. I just wanted to be wanted in the most uncomplicated way possible. But somehow, I’d still become the weapon in someone else’s story, caught up in the fallout without even meaning to.