Chapter Two: The Stranger

“Who’s ready to Partyyyyyy!!!!”

After walking out on Sophie that evening, Carter stayed in his apartment for a week, feeling depressed and heartbroken as he rotted away in bed.

That was until he decided it was enough. “Stop being so weak, Carter. You can’t lock yourself away forever. You need to go somewhere different, where you can have fun and take your mind off all of this.” He told himself.

But now that he was actually there at the infamous “Obsidian” club, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

He preferred quieter, calmer places, like a nice empty library, or sitting home alone with a cup of coffee to warm himself by an open fire.

This wasn’t his scene at all. Neon lights cut through the darkness in shades of purple and blue. The heavy bass was loud as bodies moved all over the dance floor.

Everywhere Carter looked, strange party people wore masks: leather, lace, feathers, chrome. Some elaborate, some simple.

It was apparently costume night, though Carter couldn’t have cared less about the theme.

He just needed to forget, and he hoped a change in scenery and a few shots of hard liquor would help him do just that.

“Whiskey. Double.” He had to shout to be heard over the music.

He pushed his glasses up his nose and took a shot, but unfortunately, no matter how much he drank, the memory of Sophie and Dallas together stuck at the back of his mind.

“What am I going to do?” he muttered hopelessly, downing his fourth drink and feeling sorry for himself. Or was it the fifth?

He barely noticed the man who slid onto the stool beside him until a hand landed heavily on his thigh.

Carter startled, nearly knocking over his glass.

The man was fat as a barrel, looking dirty and unkempt. His breath smelled sour with alcohol, leering at Carter like he was a piece of meat.

“Pretty little thing like you, sitting here all alone. Let me buy you a drink.”

“No, thank you.” Carter moved his leg, shifting away from the man in disgust. “Please keep your hands to yourself.”

“What? You think you’re too good for me?” The man's face turned into an ugly frown as he grabbed Carter’s hand forcefully.

Carter looked around frantically for help. The bartender had gone on break, and no one in this loud, dark, pulsing room was paying any attention to them.

“Stop. Please. Let go of me,” he said, keeping his voice low and controlled even as he panicked.

But the man didn’t stop; instead, his other hand slid up Carter’s thigh and started undoing his belt, right there in public. “Shut up and stop pretending. You know you want it. I met plenty of pretty faggots like you back when I was in prison.”

Carter wasn’t a violent man. In his whole life, the only person who had ever brought out a streak of aggression in him was Dallas.

He'd never even been in a bar fight before, especially not with a dangerous-looking, alcohol-crazed ex-convict who was twice his size.

“Get your hands off him.”

Carter felt a sudden chill in the air at the sound of that voice.

A dark, powerful, irresistible presence appeared like a shadow beside him. Tall and well built, wearing a simple black mask that covered most of his face.

Before Carter could count to three, the masked stranger grabbed the fat man and threw him, sending him crashing to the ground in a heap.

The fat man took one look at the shadow who’d just flung him away, and his face turned white with terror.

“It’s you! Forgive me, Alpha! Please don’t kill me! I didn’t know he was one of yours!” Then he scrambled to his feet and ran like hell, disappearing into the crowd in a wild panic.

Carter exhaled slowly. “Thank you,” he managed. Alpha? What did he mean by that? He wondered.

“What are you doing here?” The stranger demanded, taking the now-empty seat beside him.

Carter swallowed anxiously. The giant stranger had just thrown a grown man as though he weighed nothing. He was clearly dangerous and feared around the area, and yet… why did he feel so drawn to him?

His voice was low with an underlying roughness, and for a moment, Carter’s tipsy brain itched with recognition. “Huh? Wha—"

His rescuer cut him off, glaring at Carter’s bright yellow button-up shirt, thick glasses and newsboy hat. “What is someone like you doing here all alone in a place like this? It’s not safe.”

“I… I don’t know. You’re right, this was a bad idea.” Carter stood up to leave, feeling a little foolish. “Thank you for helping me with that situation, but I think I should go home now.”

“Stay.” The stranger demanded, “After all, you have me now to watch out for you.”

The bartender came back and set down two more drinks while the stranger pushed one toward Carter.

“Sorry, but I’m not a big drinker. And I really don’t need the charity.” He muttered.

“It’s not charity. Consider it…” The stranger paused, tilting his head. “An investment.”

Carter couldn’t help it then, he scoffed.

Clearly, this guy wasn’t used to being told no… and who could blame him? With that presence, and that voice, and that body. “An investment in what?”

“In making sure you don’t leave here still looking so miserable.”

Carter laughed bitterly, considering the situation for a second.

He gave the big guy a once-over and decided that even though he was being a little pushy, he seemed kind enough. For some strange reason, he felt he could trust him.

“I just...” He said softly, “Someone had their way with my fiancée. Or no, phrasing it that way makes it sound like someone else’s fault. But it’s her's. She cheated on me in the room where I was supposed to propose to her. On our anniversary.”

The stranger was quiet for a moment. “Sounds like an asshole.”

“And the worst part is… It’s not even the first time he’s done it. He’s been destroying my life and going after my girlfriends ever since we were teenagers.”

“Why?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Carter had spent so many years trying to figure it out, but he never did.

“I don’t know. We used to be best friends, and then one day we weren’t, and he just decided I was his enemy.”

“Maybe he has his reasons.”

A dark edge in the stranger’s voice made Carter look up sharply.

“Do I know you?” Carter squinted suspiciously at him. The mask made it impossible to see his face, and the alcohol and dim lighting wasn’t helping. “Your voice sounds…”

“I just have one of those voices.” The stranger straightened. “Common.”

That wasn’t true. His voice was unique and not common at all. Low and sultry, yet a little gruff. Carter just couldn’t put a finger on where he'd heard it before.

“Dance with me,” the stranger said confidently, mischief glinting in his eyes.

Carter wanted to say no.

He knew he was supposed to finish his drink, go straight home and nurse his humiliation in private, like he’d been doing for the past week.

But the alcohol flowed in his veins, and the stranger’s hand was already reaching for him, and he kind of owed it to the man for protecting him.

“Okay, but only for a minute,” he said, taking the offered hand, feeling a ripple of electricity pass through his fingers.

The stranger led him onto the dance floor, where bodies pressed together in the dark.

The rhythm started to get slower, as couples around them were all but having sex right there on the dance floor, rocking each other to the music.

“Wait. Wait… I—” Carter started.

This wasn’t right. It had barely been a week since the messy breakup with Sophie, and even though she didn’t deserve the courtesy, he couldn’t do it.

“Relax. I’ve got you.” That low voice whispered in his ear. The stranger inhaled Carter’s scent sharply, as though he needed it to survive, and that was all it took.

So he let himself be led. His mind would wander off to Sophie, to that bastard Dallas, to his strict religious parents who would disapprove of anything even remotely gay.

And just as he would start to pull away, the stranger’s hands would pull him back and ground him, touching him in some sleepy part of his body that came alive under his hands.

His strong, skilled fingers roamed Carter’s sides, his waist, the soft skin of his lower back, skimming the waistband of his pants with clear intent, drawing out the dark, hyper-sexual, shameful thoughts that Carter usually preferred to keep buried deep inside, where no one could see them.

This was crazy, absolutely nuts. He didn’t even know this man’s name, and it was a man, for heaven’s sake. He’d never done anything like this before…

Then the stranger’s lips found his neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, and Carter just tilted his head back and let it happen, unable to stop the soft, breathy, embarrassing moan that escaped the back of his throat.

His brain knew that he was supposed to stop this, leave now and continue to be the careful, timid, rule-following Carter he’d always been. But his body was already too far gone.

“Come with me,” the stranger murmured against his ear. And Carter took his hand and followed.

If only he knew what was about to happen next.