Chapter Two

Drake

I hold my breath, waiting for Madeline to decide if she wants to escape this nightmare of a party with me. One way or another, I intend for the infernal masquerade to end with her in my arms. Whether that's now or hours from now is entirely up to her.

I'm a patient motherfucker, but I can't even lie, though. I'd much rather it be now.

A billionaire spending Halloween at a masquerade party is about as cliché as you can get. And I fucking hate both Halloween and parties. Yet I let my asshole brother convince me to attend this damn thing anyway.

You need to get out more, Drake.

No fucking thank you.

You spend too much time alone.

Jack never stops talking, so silence and solitude are foreign concepts to him, but I prefer gratuitous amounts of both. Being by yourself is easy when you still remember being the butt of every joke throughout every goddamn year of middle and high school.

Until ten minutes ago, I was perfectly fine with the prospect of dying alone. Just me and my hand, rubbing them out until my goddamn balls shrivel and my sperm turns to dust.

And then I saw a curvy unicorn traipse into the bar with her eyes closed, complaining to baby Jesus about spiders.

A sparkling unicorn in a parade of expensive ballgowns? Fuck yeah, I noticed her. I was at her side in two seconds, the ground shifting wildly beneath my feet with every step.

Her costume isn't what has my heart beating out of my chest, though.

It's not that thick, lush body, either. Well, not entirely. That body has my dick throbbing like a motherfucker, but everything else about her has my heart pounding like a drum against my ribcage.

Even if she were dressed the same as everyone else in this fucking bar, I wouldn't be able to take my eyes off her. She's somehow both stunning and utterly adorable at the same damn time. Long lashes frame the biggest cinnamon eyes I've ever seen. Perfectly kissable, pouty lips say the sassiest shit. Minky brown curls frame her heart-shaped face, setting off her porcelain skin.

I want to sink into her curves and explore every perfect one like I'm goddamn Lewis and Clark. Her costume hides nothing— not the roundness of her belly, not the flare of her hips, not her gorgeous ass. She looks so fucking soft and sweet everywhere.

I was hooked the moment I saw her.

And then she went and put that perfect hand on my aching cock. It was all over with approximately point two seconds after she touched me. My first orgasm with a woman was damn near me cumming in my pants in a bar while she had her hand on me.

My entire fucking body started singing the Hallelujah Chorus. Not because someone was finally touching my dick, but because her hand was on my dick.

Every flustered word that's left her lips in the minutes since has only reconfirmed that she's something I need in my life.

I can't explain my visceral reaction to her. It's not just that I want to fuck her—although I definitely want to fuck her. Repeatedly, in fact. It's something else. Something innate. I know in my bones that she was meant to be mine in a way that's beyond words. It's just pure instinct.

Taking women home isn't something I do. It's something I've never done. But I intend to take her home with me tonight, and then I intend to keep her there for as long as it takes to convince her that she feels the same connection I do.

I don't think she's quite there yet. She's looking at me like she isn't sure if she wants to fight or flee.

Fuck . Maybe I should pretend I see the Sheriff coming our way.

I glance around, checking for Sheriff Midnight. He's here somewhere. I saw him earlier. If I motion him over…

Jesus. I'm an asshole.

But desperate times, right?

These are the most desperate of times.

My future wife is standing in front of me, unsure if she wants to flee into the night with me.

Help. Me.

My gaze flies back to hers when I feel her hand drop into mine.

"You better not have bodies in the basement, Drake Whitlock." She scowls up at me, those big cinnamon eyes making it hard to think straight when she's touching me.

My future wife is touching me. I mean, it's not my cock, but her hand is on me, motherfuckers.

"I swear to God, if you add mine to the collection," she continues, "I will be the most annoying ghost ever to haunt your freaking mansion."

"So, murder you in the woods instead of the house, got it," I reply, unable to resist teasing her when she makes it so easy.

She squeaks, staring at me with wide eyes.

Shit. I shouldn't have said that.

"Just kidding." I practically haul her toward the front of the bar before my stupid sense of humor manages to send her fleeing into the night. I just got her to agree to go home with me. There's no way I'm fucking it up now.

I need her madly in love with me and pregnant with at least two of my kids before she realizes I'm an idiot. Less chance of her leaving me for someone better if she loves me and has my babies by the time she figures out that I'm just a desperate man willing to do shady shit to get close to her.

"Stupid fake spiders," she mumbles under her breath, practically plastering herself up against me to avoid the display stretching across the foyer. The poor little unicorn even trembles against me.

I slip an arm around her waist, anchoring her to me…reveling in the heat of her body up against me. Fucking Christ. She feels incredible—so soft and warm. My entire body shoots off sparks, and every damn one goes straight to my cock.

I didn't know it was humanly possible to want to cuddle the fuck out of someone and fuck them raw at the same time. And yet, that's precisely how I feel right now.

Maybe the first time I fuck her, I'll do it with her in my lap so I can hold her while she's wrapped around my cock and moaning my name.

Huh. The plan has merit.

The cool night air hits us in the face as soon as we're through the doors, making her shiver. She takes one look at Steele, one of the few people who doesn't annoy the fuck out of me, and draws up short.

"Guess you figured it out, huh?" he asks, humor dancing in his eyes when they land on her.

She lifts her adorable button nose in the air, a haughty look on her face. "In case no one ever told you before now, you suck."

Steele throws his head back and roars with laughter.

She sniffs at him, clearly unamused. "What's your name?"

"Asa Steele."

"We're enemies now, Asa Steele."

"Yeah?" He grins from ear to ear. "Cool. I've always wanted a mythical creature as an enemy."

"Cool. Sleep with one eye open."

"Yes, ma'am," he says, chuckling.

I lead her away, fighting a smile. She's fucking cute when she's pissed. And let's be honest, it's hard to take a cranky unicorn seriously. "What was that about?"

"He told me I had a cute costume," she mutters. "He could have told me this was a masquerade, but no. He left that part out. I guess he thought he'd just let me figure it out for myself for his amusement. Big jerk."

"Ah." I scratch my beard to hide a smile. That sounds like Steele. He's been raising hell in this town since…well, for fucking ever, actually. "So we're killing him too."

She eyes me suspiciously. "You're awful willing to commit murder and mayhem for me, Drake."

"Isn't it the season for it?"

"It's never the season for murder."

"It's Halloween, Madeline."

She snorts indelicately, making me laugh out loud. "Which is the most cliché season of all to murder someone, if you ask me. Murder at Halloween. Oh, scary." She rolls her big brown eyes.

"So, murder at Halloween doesn't scare you," I murmur, popping the locks on the truck as I lead her across the packed parking lot, her hand still firmly caught in mine. "What does scare you?"

She eyes me sideways. "Uh, are you crazy? Murder at Halloween scares me. Murder anytime scares me. I'm just saying Halloween murder is cliché."

"But you're going to kill your cousin," I remind her.

"Oh, yes. He's definitely gotta go." She bobs her head for emphasis, making me laugh again. Maybe it's the furry tail swishing along behind her or the sparkly horn bopping along on top of her head, I don't know. But fucking hell, she's so goddamn cute when she's being savage.

I can't remember the last time anyone made me smile this much. Actually, that's not true. I never smile this much. I'm a grumpy asshole nine days out of ten.

People annoy the fuck out of me. Being nice to them annoys the fuck out of me. Spending time with them also annoys the fuck out of me. Having to do those three things at the same time turns me into a raging asshole. But there's something…calming about her.

For the first time in a long time, being in town, surrounded by people who used to bully the fuck out of me, doesn't have me feeling like I want to crawl out of my skin. There's a sense of anticipation and…excitement I haven't felt in…well, since I was a fucking kid, honestly.

I help her climb up into the truck—but not before she peers into the backseat like she's checking to make sure no one is hiding back there.

"Did you move here from Houston?"

"No. Why?"

"Because I can pretty much guarantee no one is hiding in the backseat of my truck in Midnight Falls, unicorn," I murmur. "The crime rate around here is a dispute between farmers, the town drunk running naked through town again, and the occasional candy bar theft."

She turns to look at me, a smirk dancing on her lips. "Are you the town drunk you speak of, Mr. Whitlock? You seem awful familiar with his criminal history."

"Get in the truck, smart ass."

She giggles as she scrambles in, giving me a fantastic view of her ass. Right up until she drops down in the seat.

I scowl, trying to figure out how to get my eyes on her ass again.

"I meant what I said. I will be the most annoying gho—What are you doing?" She swats my hands away when I try to buckle her seatbelt. "I can do that."

I reluctantly back off to let her do it, my hands itching to touch her again. "You didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

"What scares you?" I ask, curious as hell. She's a fearless little thing, as far as I can tell. Spiders and the prospect of jail aside, nothing much seems to slow her down.

She considers the question while I close her door and circle around, climbing in beside her. My eyes drift closed as her scent swirls around me. Fucking hell. The whole cab of the truck smells like her—sweet, juicy apples.

I briefly wonder if she'll taste as tart and juicy. But that particular line of thought makes my cock throb like a motherfucker, so I crank the engine instead.

The truck rumbles to life while she's still considering the question.

"This," she finally says as I pull out of the parking lot onto the main road.

I glance over at her. "Hmm?"

"This scares me," she whispers, her fingers all tangled up in the long sleeves of her costume.

"Being alone with me?" My heart climbs into my throat. Fuck . She's afraid of me. "I'm not going to hurt you, unicorn. There are no bodies in my basement, and you aren't in any danger with me. Not now or ever, I promise you that."

"Good to know." She swallows. "But that's not what I was talking about. Um…" Her cheeks heat, an adorable blush climbing all the way to her hairline. "I've never left a party with a guy before, Drake," she whispers like she's telling me a state secret. "Or gone home with one."

Cum spills into my boxers in response, my blood roaring through my veins in a rush. Fuck my life. She's innocent. Untouched. A goddamn unicorn virgin, just like me. My hands tighten around the steering wheel in a last-ditch effort to keep them to myself.

"Good to know," I say, my voice a rough rasp even to my ears. "Because I haven't either."

She stares at me for a second and then smiles devilishly. "You've never gone home with a guy?"

"Nope, afraid not." I chuckle. Her sassy attitude and smart mouth are far too goddamn attractive. Something about her teasing is just damn appealing. When Jack talks all the fucking time, it annoys me. Listening to her is the exact opposite of annoying. "I've never taken anyone home with me, either."

She blinks like a little owl, clearly caught off guard. "You're lying."

"Nope."

"I'm pretty sure you're doing the hot, single billionaire thing wrong, Drake," she says. "You're supposed to have notches in your bedpost and a drawer full of panties you've collected from your conquests or something."

"Yeah, none of that bullshit sounds appealing to me, Madeline." I glance over at her. "Doesn't sound sanitary, either. A drawer full of random dirty panties?"

"I don't make the rules, Whitlock." She shrugs one shoulder, making her horn bob again.

"Thank fucking God. I have serious concerns about your rules right now."

She giggles, peeking over at me. "So you aren't a billionaire manwhore. Why not?"

I pause, trying to decide how best to answer. "You want the truth?"

"Depends." She narrows her eyes on me as we pass beneath a streetlight. "Does it involve bodies in your basement?"

I smile despite myself, and then it slips. Fuck. I've never told anyone the shit I'm about to tell her, but she's trusting me with her safety here. The least I can do is trust her with my truth. If she's going to be living in this town, she's bound to learn it eventually, anyway.

"Halloween used to be my favorite holiday. I fucking loved everything about it."

"What changed?"

"When I was twelve, I went into this old, crumbling mansion on a dare on Halloween night," I admit. "I didn't know a man had walked away from rehab and started living there. I walked into the bedroom, and I guess I scared him. He jumped out of the bed, wrapped in this white blanket, screaming bloody murder. He thought I was there to take him back to rehab. I thought he was a fucking ghost. I hauled ass out of there, convinced I was going to die. Naturally, I wasn't watching where I was going. I tripped on the stairs and fell down the entire flight. Broke my arm and my right leg, and managed to knock myself out."

"Oh no," she whispers.

"Yeah, it was bad. But that's not even the worst part." I pause again, my heart pounding. I can't believe I'm going to tell her this shit willingly. "The paramedics hauled me out of there in front of half the town, covered in my own piss."

"Oh, Drake," she whispers.

"You can imagine what that was like for a twelve-year-old kid. My classmates never let me live that shit down." Had it not been for my brother and a few friends like Steele, I would have been a complete outcast. "So yeah, unicorn, I'm dead serious. I've never brought a woman to my place. I don't even like most people."

"That's honestly kind of sad, Drake. You were just a little boy, terrified and in immense pain. It could have happened to anyone."

"You're right. But they were just kids, too. And to them, it was hilarious," I murmur. "Reminding me about it every day for the next six years was even more hilarious."

My heart squeezes in a vise when she reaches across the console. I don't know who the fuck this girl is or where she came from, but the minute she slips her hand into mine to comfort me, I decide that I'm marrying her. Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do to convince her, I'll do.

She's it for me, my one. My future.

"Do they still give you a hard time?" she asks. "If so, I'll help you egg their houses."

"Not really," I murmur, lacing our fingers together. "Some people say a lot of shit about me spending so much time alone, but most people around here forgot about what happened back then long before my brother and I made our first million. You never really forget when you're made to feel a certain way, though."

I certainly never did. Most people leave me the fuck alone about it. But some people…well, some people just don't fucking get it. To them, I'm odd. They whisper about me when they think I can't hear. I don't really give a shit, though. The whole experience made me…harder in a way, less trusting. I don't let people in. I don't get close to people. I mind my goddamn business and keep everyone at a distance. It's just easier that way.

At least, that's what I always thought. But everything feels different tonight. For the first time in my life, I don't want easy. I don't want safe. I don't want distance.

I want the woman seated beside me, even if it means exposing all my raw parts and uncomfortable secrets.

I don't know if unicorns are magic. But the curvy little goddess seated beside me dressed in a unicorn onesie certainly feels a little like magic to me. And for a motherfucker who gave up believing in magic and fairytales a long damn time ago, that's something special.