Sexy Spooky Season – Freebie Blitz and Giveaway

Through the eyeholes of his mask, Lark saw her, and everything crystalized in that beautiful and startling moment. She was stunning, with black hair that feathered like raven’s wings and brushed her pale shoulders. Those strands of ebony hair skimmed against her neck, and that was how he noticed the scar that stretched from one side of her neck to the other, just above her collarbone. His entire body tensed at the sight of the pale pink line—so pretty, so mysterious. There was a story there that he yearned to know. 

How’d she get it? When did she get it? The fact she wasn’t trying to hide it with a necklace or little scarf or even with makeup meant she wasn’t ashamed of it. 

In his opinion, she shouldn’t be ashamed of it. Her scar was a part of her, and he desired to get to know her and her scar. He fisted his hands at his sides to dispel the need to trail the tips of his fingertips over that scar, to feel the silkiness of the healed flesh and the hard line where her skin had sealed back together. His needs were so intense that he clenched his jaw as he imagined kissing and licking it.

His gaze trailed down the rest of her. She wore a black tank top, jean shorts, and black sneakers. Her legs were long and her thighs gorgeous as she walked and they skimmed together. Beneath his pumpkin mask, he ran his teeth over his bottom lip. The urge to part those thighs and settle his head between them, feel them clench around his skull was fierce. He’d never had such a whiplash surge of lust before, but holy shit he wanted her.

She was with a group of friends, though—two men and three women. Neither of the guys were close, so he hoped that meant she wasn’t with either of them. She was next to a woman with unnatural mahogany hair, though. Were they together? They were laughing. They were whispering. Then the woman with mahogany hair peered to the side and winked.

Lark followed her line of sight to where Cal in a skull mask stood. Okay. So Mahogany Hair was into men. At least men in skull masks who worked at Halloween theme parks like All Horrors’ Eve. So hopefully that meant his scarred angel was single.

As they walked closer, he stepped out of the shadows. 

She looked right at him.

The force of her stare halted him. He was a trained scare actor. Normal people weren’t supposed to make him freeze like a startled idiot, but she’d stunned him. 

A small smile played on her lips.

She wasn’t dressed like the other women who were there, hoping to get fucked by a masked man for a story to post to social media. No, his scarred angel was dressed because of the humid Florida night. Nor did she seem to be there to get railed by a masked man. Not like her friend who wore what equated to a black bra and was throwing “I want you to fuck me hard” looks at his friend who would surely take her up on that offer. 

His scarred angel shifted her gaze away.

Beside her, Mahogany Hair said something. Then she left his angel’s side, heading toward Cal, who stepped closer, towering and menacing and aware that both were turning Mahogany Hair on. Everyone who was within eyesight was aware of it.

His angel shook her head and continued on with her friends. Lark followed several paces behind, staking his claim. His other scare actor friends noticed. They all had a code. If one of them clearly picked someone for the night, they were off limits. The others targeted her friends to taunt and tease, but they left his angel alone. Did she notice? Did she sense him behind her?

The night was hot. Howls and screeches, screams and hideous laughter filled the humid air. Sweat dotted Lark’s forehead and upper lip beneath his pumpkin mask. A bead of sweat slithered a path down his spine. Although he was shirtless with just a distressed leather vest on, the heat was stifling.

His angel was hot, too. She lifted her black tank, twisted the cotton around her finger, and tucked it into the middle of her bra. 

The sight of her back and waist and the beginning shape of her hips glistening with a sheen of sweat thickened his cock in his black cargo pants.

Desire pumped through his veins. He wanted nothing more than to back her against a building and lick the sweat from her stomach and from between her breasts and thighs. He craved her salt, her water, her skin—everything.

She glanced over her shoulder.

Yeah, I’m here, angel.

She didn’t stop walking.

He didn’t stop following.