Play with the Phantom (Midnight, #2)

by Amanda Richardson

“Are we still pretending you don’t want this, angel?”

She squirms, her breathing uneven now, and as I dip my head to hers, I smirk against her neck. I drag my tongue up the right side of her throat, slow and deliberate, tasting the heat of her skin. And then—I bite. Not hard. Just a slow, perfect press of my teeth against her pulse point.

“I don’t belong to you,” she spits, voice tight, forced, like she’s trying to convince herself.

I tilt my head, dragging my nose along her jaw, inhaling deeply. “You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”

“You can fight me all you want, little warrior.” I lean in, pressing my weight into her. One of my fingers trails up her side, slow, teasing, stopping just beneath her ribs. The other holds her hands above her head. “But your body already knows who it belongs to.”

“Fighting me only makes you want it more, doesn’t it? You’ve dreamt of being taken like this before, haven’t you? The thought of me doing this is one of your deepest, darkest fantasies. And you’ve been waiting for my brother to fuck you senseless, just the way you want. Isn’t that true?”

I grind against her, slow at first, teasing. Just enough for her to whimper. I feel it through my whole fucking soul, the way she starts to tremble. Either from fear, defiance, or… complete and utter arousal.

“Every time you squirm, every time you fight me, you just press that sweet little pussy harder against my cock.”

Her head tilts back against the pillow, her eyes squeezing shut. She gasps, her whole body locking up. And then—she falls apart beneath me. Fuck. I feel it happen. The soft, pulsing grip of her thighs around me, the way her body spasms. I grind against her harder, chasing my own release, letting myself fucking drown in her. And then it hits me. Hard. Violent. Uncontrollable.

“That’s twice now, angel.”

Her brow knit together, her breathing still unsteady. “Twice?”

I smirk. “That I’ve come in my fucking pants because of you.”

“Don’t let it go to your head. You’re not the first guy who couldn’t keep it together with me.”

“I won’t be nearly this patient again, little warrior.” I pause, just long enough to let the words sink in, just long enough to feel her shiver beneath me. “And next time?” I press my thumb against her slick, trembling lips, dragging it down her chin. “You’ll beg me not to be.”

“Sleep tight, angel. Don’t you dare dream about anyone else but me,” I murmur, my fingers brushing over her throat, a slow, dangerous caress.

“So, are you having a good time, Ari?”

“I am. It’s beautiful here.”

“It is.” She sets her coffee mug down and clears her throat. “Asher works...

I huff a laugh. “I’m us...

Hannah studies me for a moment, something warm and knowing in her gaze. Then, she sighs, picking up her coffee mug again. “You know, sweetheart… you deserve someone...

“We love Asher,” she continues, her voice careful, measured. “He’s always been driven. Focused. But… well, relationships need more than just good intentions.” She takes a sip, her eyes soft as they meet mine. “We like you, Ari. And we would understand if—” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “If it ever felt like too much. If you ever needed more than what he’s willing to give.”

“It’s not like that. I know Asher cares about me in his own way.”

“I have no doubt that he cares about you,” she agrees easily. “But words and effort aren’t always the same thing.”

Before I can respond, another voice cuts through the air. “Interesting conversation,” Maddox drawls, stepping into the kitchen, his blue eyes locking on to mine. “What are we discussing?”

Hannah sighs but doesn’t say anything. She just gives me a look. One I can’t quite decipher.

Oh mom KNOWS

“I was thinking we could go to the Santa Monica Pier today,” Hannah suggests, changing the subject again before winking at me.

“I’ll drive,” he says absentmindedly. “I need to take a call on the way.”

Maddox chuckles under his breath. “Of course you do.”

Maddox’s gaze flicks to mine, and that smirk tugs at his lips again. “You heard my mother,” he murmurs. “You deserve better.”

For the first time, I’ve been shown what’s possible—and how it should feel when you’re fully, sexually satisfied. I’ve never gotten off without helping. I always have to use my hands, or a toy. But that’s twice now that Maddox has made me come all by himself. The worst part—the part I’m still trying to make peace with—is that I feel more seen in five minutes with Maddox than I have in two years with the man I thought I’d eventually marry.

Maddox exhales through his nose, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ll skip this one,” he mutters, almost like an afterthought. His gaze flicks toward the towering Ferris wheel, and for the first time, I see something unreadable flicker across his expression.

“You don’t like heights?” I ask, tilting my head.

His jaw hardens. “I like being in control of m...

I don’t miss the way Maddox’s jaw tics, and his eyes flick to where Asher’s hand is on my back. I nod at Asher and swallow, suddenly feeling guilty about… everything. I’m not a cheater. I don’t cross lines. I don’t betray the people I love.

Asher’s phone rings, and he gives me a small, regretful smile. A work call, then. He looks at the screen, grimaces, but for once, he doesn’t immediately answer.

How mucb do we wanna bet asher is already cheating

When the phone rings again—sharp, persistent—he curses under his breath. This time, he doesn’t hesitate. “I’m sorry, I have to take this,” he says, already stepping away. “Go ahead and ride without me, okay? I’ll meet you guys after.”

Fucking asshole tbh

I stiffen. “Wait, but⁠—”

“Sorry, babe,” he calls over his shoulder, phone pressed to his ea...

“Guess that means you’re with me, angel.”

Before I can argue, Hannah is already ushering us toward the line. “Go, go. It’ll be fun!”

Istg she knowwwws

It’s barely noticeable at first—a subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his hands flex against his thighs. But when we climb higher, the wheel rocking slightly with the wind, I feel it again. His chest rises and falls a little too fast, his knuckles paling against the metal bar.

“I just—” I exhale sharply, hating how unsettled I feel. “It’s not a big deal. I just… thought I was riding with Asher.”

Maddox chuckles, deep and low, but there’s something forced about it. “Thought you’d be safer with him, huh?”

That’s not it. Not even close. The truth is, I wanted Asher to show up for me for once. I wanted the Ferris wheel, the sun, the stupid photos, and the lazy kisses at the top like somethin...

The gondola sways again, and I see it this time—the way his body goes rigid for half a second. The way he exhales slowly, like he’s forcing himself to stay relaxed. Maddox Cross, unshakable ex-Marine, doesn’t just not like heights. He’s terrified.

“I don’t care,” he murmurs, his voice a slow, dark promise. His fingers brush the collar, a deliberate, possessive touch. “Let me take care of you the way you deserve to be taken care of.”

Maddox notices the way my whole body tenses. And then he speaks, voice quiet, knowing. “You looked me up, didn’t you?”

He smirks. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

My chest squeezes. I don’t answer. Maddox tilts his head slightly, studying me. Then his smirk fades. Just a little. He’s been so sure the entire trip, and this is the first time I’ve seen anything that resembles vulnerability. And… I don’t hate it. The idea of him being scared of something—of having a hard past—softens everything between us, and I feel something akin to empathy bloom in my chest. Or perhaps… affection. What the hell?

“Lila was four,” he says, voice lower now, rougher. “She was sick for months. They kept denying her treatment.” A beat. A sharp exha...