Page 24 of Willing Prey

Don’t be boring.

Be a challenge.

Here goes nothing. I charge him. Hard, fast, and with absolutely no plan except getting out of the closet and then trying to outrun him. Shane shifts to block my exit. Ducking, I go low in an attempt to evade his reach. It doesn’t matter. He snatches me around the waist with one arm while his other hand grips my hair tight at the back of my head.

“I thought you went outside,” he sounds happy, as if he didn’t want to have another storm fuckfest either. “Of all the places, you chose my room?”

At the time, it seemed smart. It seemed like somewhere he might not look. Now, it feels foolish. Very foolish. My bare feet squeak on the hardwood floor as he manhandles me toward the bed. Its massive, black leather headboard makes me think of a tombstone. It isn’t made. The dark-green comforter and matching sheets are in disarray. I would have thought he’d have Gretchen make his bed for him.

Kicking at his legs, I try to get loose without leaving a handful of hair behind. It’s not going to happen. We move closer to the bed, and I get more desperate to make this interesting, to keep him guessing. I grab his cock. He freezes.

Shane’s grey sweatpants don’t do a thing to hide how hard he is. My fingers wrap around him, and I squeeze gently. This is the first time I’m doing the touching. It feels different, but I like it. I start to massage him, just a little. The hand in my hair loosens. So does the one at my waist. He’s watching me touch him, fascinated as if I’m doing something much more X-rated than fondling him through his pants.

I pull down his sweats and discover he isn’t wearing underwear when his cock bursts free, smacking against his stomach. He looks good. Delicious. There’s a drop of arousal on his tip, and when I run my hand down his length, he inhales like it might be his last breath. I do it again. And again. His eyes begin to close as he bucks into my grip, letting out a hoarse “fuck” under his breath. He looks so blissful that it almost makes me change my mind about what I’m about to do. Almost.

Think about thirty more days.

Releasing his cock, I run. Behind me, Shane roars my name. I run faster.

***

I’m racing back to the library when the power goes. At first, I think Shane’s done it to take the hunt up a level. Before I can wrap my head around that idea, I hear his voice booming through the house.

“Claire? Margot? Gretchen? Everybody good?”

Margot and Gretchen respond in the affirmative from downstairs. I say nothing.

“Claire?” he calls again. I don’t answer, and he chuckles low under his breath.

I sneak through the dark, trying to get farther away from him. Who knows when the power will come back on. I better use the dark while I have it. Tiny shuffling steps carry me toward where I think the library is. If Shane would talk again, I’d feel braver, know I’m not about to walk right up to him in the dark.

Every hair on the back of my neck stands at attention. I’m walking blindfolded through a lion’s den. Reaching out, I feel what has to be the hallway wall. I increase my pace, letting it guide me in what I hope is the right direction. Every step that doesn’t send me crashing into Shane buoys my confidence. I’m feeling downright cocky.

The lights flicker. Just a second, there and gone. I see enough to know I am in the hallway leading to the library. Two steps later, thick arms wrap around me, lifting me off the ground.

“Fuck!” I don’t mean to scream, but I do. Damn the flicker. He must have been right behind me.

“Claire?” Margot calls, “You okay?”

“She’s fine,” Shane calls back. “Stay downstairs with Gretchen.”

“Oh Jesus,” she grumbles.

I try not to laugh. A giggle slips out anyway. Shane’s lips hover above my ear, his breath hot. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” my response would be more believable if another giggle didn’t come out with it.

“Nothing?” His teeth close on my ear lobe. Thick and hard, his erection prods my ass. I can’t keep from rolling my hips back at him. He bucks, and I think about how he thrust into my hand in his bedroom. How heavy he felt, the way his cock twitched when I ran my thumb over the head. I press back harder. His groan makes me laugh again.

“Careful,” Shane’s voice is a rasp. “Keep laughing at me, and I’ll have to shut you up.”

“Do it,” the words slip out, but I wouldn’t have tried to stop them anyway.

He stiffens. Then I’m spinning, rotated in his arms until we’re chest to chest. I expect him to cover my mouth with one hand while he rips my clothing off with the other. To be pushed to the ground and taken brutally on the floor of the hallway. I’m not opposed to the idea.

Instead, a hand knots in the back of my hair, tugging my face up. Shane kisses me. Deep and sweet, the hand not in my hair snaking around my waist, pulling me tighter to him. I’m stunned. Frozen. He’s done nearly everything else, but he’s never kissed me. Gently, he pulls my hair, snapping me out of my shock. I kiss him back, forgetting about hunting. Forgetting about fighting. I forget Margot and Gretchen are downstairs and that tomorrow I leave. There’s nothing except us, kissing in the dark hallway.

His mouth is warm, and his tongue nudges the seam of my lips as he presses his pelvis to mine. My lips part for him the way my thighs want to, my body eager to take him in any way possible. I’m waiting to be ravaged. For him to take my mouth with his tongue the way he dominates my pussy with his cock. But Shane doesn’t kiss like he fucks.

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