Stone Cold

Chapter 2

"Jesus Christ," I utter, but there's no way Eloise can hear me now. The noise is almost deafening.

The basement is enormous, probably going under the entire building, and packed to the gills. I can only hope not all of it is used for this party. Surprisingly, the ceiling is quite high. Muted lights, similar to the ones in the stairway are wrapped around thick concrete beams, offering some visibility. There's a long makeshift bar not far across from the small landing we are standing on, with at least ten bartenders. They are buzzing around it, while dozens of hands wave at them to catch their attention. Deeper inside, on the far end, is a DJ station, with strobe lights shifting in all directions. Balloons are floating in the air, being caught and released again.

And people. There are so many people.

"How the hell am I going to find Lena in here?" Eloise wails loud enough for me to hear. I must admit, the task is looking more and more daunting with every detail I notice. There's no space to walk. No seats. Not enough light. It'll take us at least an hour, probably more. I'm getting tired just thinking about it.

"We should split," I finally say into her ear. She looks at me with panic, but I shake my head in a there-is-no-other-option way. "It'll be faster. Whoever finds her first, texts the other and we meet here."

"No, no-"

"Yes, Eloise, yes," I confirm, adding quickly as I'm stepping down so she can't argue, "Keep your phone close. I'm heading left."

"Nathalie!" She yelps, but I'm already caught between bodies, and out of her sight.

Cursing under my breath, I diligently and, excruciatingly slow, plod through the crowd. Being shoved and pushed stops bothering me after the hundredth time. My shoes are completely wrecked now, countless people stepping on them. I surely reek of alcohol, having drank none, but having it spilled on me multiple times. My feet hurt, I'm hot beyond comfort in my thick coat, and my eyes throb from stupid strobe lights. Every other minute I check my phone, hoping Eloise found Lena before me.

Unexpectedly, I recognize some of the faces here. Reality-show stars, an odd tv presenter, a couple of footballers. Some of the girls look like models, and they probably are. A fairly popular young actor grinds himself fervently against a modestly dressed girl. Finally, I understand why are these parties so hard to get into.

After half an hour of disappointment, I'm almost done perusing this part of the basement. The only thing left to check out is the space around the DJ booth. Circling it, I notice another pair of stairs leading up, with a door on top. At least this place isn't a total fire hazard, I think, deciding to check where they lead to. Eloise's text arrives, letting me know she still hasn't found Lena. I reply with my plan to go up and look for her there and head toward the stairs.

They lead outside, into some kind of a yard. It's closed off with buildings on all four sides, with high trees and untrimmed bushes in the middle, and wooden benches lining an overgrown path. It rains harder now, so I cover my head with my bag and take it. If Lena isn't here having a make-out session with some random guy, I'm giving up.

As I'm coming closer to the end of the yard, I hear something. At first, I think it's just the wind, maybe rain hitting the leaves, but then a clear 'oh, yes' stops me in my tracks. Could it be Lena? Except... isn't that a bit overzealous for a make-out session? Instinctively, I step away from the path and head toward the sound, coming somewhere from my left.

Muffled groans become louder as I sneak closer and closer, keeping myself glued to the trees. I'm half ashamed I'm doing it, as piked curiosity keeps pushing me forward. When another half-shriek echoes between the walls, I know that's not Lena's voice. Relieved, and almost boldened by it, I take another step and peek behind the last tree.

There, under a heavy crown of a huge oak, shielding them from most of the rainfall, a couple is... fucking.

In disbelief at what I've stumbled upon, I straighten up to get a proper look.

The girl is bent over the back of a bench, her long blond hair pulled up in a high ponytail dangling from her bowed head. She's in a black tank top, and what looks like a matching leather skirt, pooled around her waist. Behind her is a tall, slender guy, built like an athlete, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. His white shirt is open, allowing a glimpse of his wide pectoral muscles. They're rippling like waves under the skin with his sharp moves. Wet bangs cover his forehead as he looks down, where his hands are gripping the girl's hips. He pounds into her with force, making her shift almost violently forward with every slap. She obviously likes it, begging him not to stop.

Shocked at myself, I realize I'm agreeing with her.

It is enticingly erotic, natural, raw - two beautiful people fucking in the rain, in the dark, in the open.

Rooted to the spot, I watch them with quiet admiration until an uncomfortable question pops into my head - when was the last time you've been so free with someone, Nathalie? When was the last time you felt the need to have someone so badly you didn't care about the rain, or cold, or the possibility of being seen? Can't remember, I whisper to myself, while the guy's hand slaps the girl's butt cheek. She yelps through an excited giggle.

An ugly twang of jealousy stabs at my stomach, and more out of that than decency, I turn to leave. But just as I'm looking for a safe spot to step on, the ground muddy and soft, my phone lights up with a message. In this muggy darkness, the light has an effect of a bloody flare.

I know my cover has been blown with the same certainty it's Eloise who's texting me.

Bracing myself for some nasty words, I look back to the couple, ready to apologize. Apologize and run away, mud be damned.

The guy is looking straight at me. I can feel it more than I can see his eyes. The girl, though, is still in the same position, and she's still... moving. They are still going. The guy must know I see them, even if he didn't notice me before, but he's not stopping.

While I scramble to think what to do, or what to say, he pulls on the girl's hair and brings her back to him. She moans loudly and lifts her arms up and back, hugging his neck. Her full breasts bounce, threatening to roll out of her flimsy tank top. My mouth open in disbelief, I watch as his hands travel up, over her ribs, over her breasts to finally, yank her top down. They readily spill out, and she cries out in bliss when the rain hits them. I swallow against my dry mouth. Keeping his eyes on me, the guy covers them with his large hands, and holds on to them for balance, ramming into her. That spot between my thighs tightens, warming up. But then, I notice something alarming that slaps me back to reality.

The guy is smiling. He's smiling at me while he fucks this girl.

That's the moment I finally manage to nope the hell out of there.