Page 75 of The Huntress and Her Hound

Jude blows out a cloud of smoke—right in my face. “Maybe. I have a lot to do, and being sweet will get you nowhere with me.”

I swallow hard. “Then punish me for it.”

He narrows his eyes, but I still make out the spark of desire. “I always did want to see you crawl to me, and then beg for forgiveness while choking on my cock. However, that’s a fucking privilege, Cher, and while I still consider you mine, you’re skating on thin ice. I don’t share.”

My cheeks burn and my pussy fucking weeps for him—and I know he can see it in my face. But instead of waiting for my reply, he simply walks away, leaving me there to watch him go. I can’t decide if he’s toying with me, or if it’s an implication that he might be willing to forgive me for today.

I could just tell him the truth.

Ugh, but then he’ll have to face the real me.

And I’d never wish that on anyone.

Chapter 27

The Hound

Then punish me for it.

Such a wicked fucking woman, tempting me after lying to me. I had no intention of threatening to choke her on my cock, given everything I’ve discovered. I understand now why she asked to take it slow. However...I saw hunger in her eyes when she said those words to me.

Though, I still can’t decide if I’m mad at her. I mean, I am pissed she lied to me, but after sitting through that conversation with Liam, I’m confused as to why she lied about it to me. It was purely platonic, and on top of that, I didn’t hear anything officially business-related.

So why hide it? Unless she’s either using code lingo or she’s something more insidious...

My footsteps on the pavers are quiet as I round the corner of the house. It’s a massive place, and I try to imagine Cher and Cash in it. I stare up at the security system—one that I’ve already hacked into. It’s useless. I mean, up against a hacker like me, I guess. I pause then, gazing out across the view of Las Vegas. The city lies in the valley, and I’ve always been perturbed by the way it seems to end abruptly from afar, swallowed by mountainous desert.

It could eat someone.

My fists clench at my sides, images from that bloody fucking phone flashing in my mind. I need revenge as much as I need Cher for myself. Her broken phone is an issue, and the location stopped tracking—though I’m not sure that’s a bad thing if I have competition.

I fucking hate competition.

My phone ringing draws me from my thoughts though, and I glance down at the unknown number. I requested some information via the dark web earlier, intrigued by the Black Widow. There’s little to go on, other than they’re a mythical serial killer taking out rich men in Vegas. However, the deaths are all drug related—but my gut won’t let me forget that two men died in relation to Cher. But also...What about the phone and those pictures? Could the person chasing her be killing off the men she sees?

I couldn’t blame them for that. I struggle to see Cher killing someone. Also, she told me “no” that night in the bathroom. Not that I can trust anything that comes out of her mouth. Fuck. I nearly miss the call.

“Yes?” I answer, waiting to see who’s on the other end.

A distorted voice comes over the line. “She exists.”

“Okay. Who is she?”

“Don’t know but leave her alone.”

“Who is this?” I know it’s a stupid question, but sometimes people still answer it—and I need a little longer before I can track and get a location.

“None of your damn business.”

“Fair enough.” My watch vibrates, and I hang up. I pull up the tracing app I developed and track the call.

Right to Cher’s place of work.

My fucking head hurts, and I kill about twenty minutes looking around. Then, I pull up a different app and call the number back under the guise of the downstairs bar—just to see.

“What is it now, Carlos?” a familiar voice snaps over the line.

Sarah.

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