Page 63 of A Little Naughty

You’re very sexy as a macho hunter man.

She includes one of those red-faced sweating emojis, and my shoulders lift with a silent laugh. But her next one makes my dick hard.

Jemima

I wonder if pigs can hear a blow job from 100 yards away?

This one’s followed by a sly-faced emoji, and my thumbs start to move.

Lean back, and we’ll see if they hear you come on my hand.

Her head ducks forward, and she cuts a look at me over her shoulder before turning back to text more.

Jemima

If you lean back against the tree, I could straddle your lap and see who comes first.

This has to be a first—sexting in a live oak tree while waiting for wild hogs to appear below. I’m seriously considering it when the crack of a twig interrupts our flow.

Her head snaps around again, eyebrows raised in question. I nod, reaching back and sliding the gun from the waist of my jeans. I’m a pretty good shot at close range, and it isn’t the first time I’ve done this.

Lifting my leg, I turn so I’m no longer straddling the branch. I have a straight shot, directly down to the ground below, where a pig the size of a large dog is rooting around the base of the tree. He’s too close, and I’m afraid he’s going to catch our scent if I don’t act fast.

The gun is in my hand, and I pull back the hammer as slowly as possible, doing my best not to make a noise. I’m all set to shoot when a camera flash lights up the ground, and the animal startles.

Exhaling slowly, I don’t let it rattle me as I pull the trigger, aiming for the back of its head as it starts to bolt. The gun blasts, and it drops right on the spot a few feet away.

I hop off the limb, landing on my feet on the ground when Jemima’s voice rings out in a wail.

“Raif!” I look up fast. Is she freaked out by the actual kill? “I’m so sorry! I thought I’d turned the flash off!”

I reach up to help her out of the tree. She lands on her feet in front of me, her hands on my wrists, and my hands on her waist. She looks up at me with her cute face all scrunched, and I can’t help kissing her nose.

“You don’t have to apologize since I got him.”

“Still, I nearly ruined everything!”

“But you didn’t.” I walk over to where the animal’s stone dead and grab the rope out of the bag, quickly tying its back hooves together.

“You’re really good at this.” She has the camera out, taking more photos. “You’re like one of those people who could survive an apocalypse.”

That makes me laugh, since I’ve been working the last several weeks with Martha. “I’m not sure how long I’d make it, but at least we’d have something to eat.”

“Which is very important,” she notes quietly.

Tossing the rope over the low branch where we were just sitting, I lift the animal off the ground. It’s heavy as fuck, and it takes all my strength to get it high enough to drain. I hear her phone clicking, taking photos as I tie off the rope. Returning to my pack, I take out a pair of black latex gloves then pull my buck knife out of my back pocket.

With one quick swipe, his neck is open, and the blood starts to flow out.

“Ugh, that’s gross.” She’s frowning again, and I step back to where she’s standing with a hand over her mouth.

“All part of the process.” I wipe the knife in the grass, doing my best to get it clean before wrapping it and the gloves in a towel. “You have to drain the blood so it doesn’t settle in the muscles. Otherwise, you can’t eat it.”

I touch her arm, and we walk back around the tree to get away from the sound and the smell of the dead animal.

She has her phone out, and she’s back in professional mode. “How long have you been hunting? All your life?”

“No, I just started when the hogs started getting bad. My daddy was always too drunk, and Bull would rather get in a fight than sit in a deer stand.”

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