Page 10 of Meating Dalton

But her words are the douse of reality I need, cooling the desire burning through my veins. I regret fucking nothing. But I enjoy the thrill of hunting. If my little flower wishes to run back into the arms of Mr. Wrong, then I’ll let her, just so I can snatch her up later.

And he has an appointment with my blades. Oh yes, he does. His fate sealed when I saw his hands land onmytemptress.

“Of course, sweet flower,” I tell her, letting my hands slide from her ass. Damn, I miss squeezing it already. After unwinding her arms from my neck, she steps back, avoiding my eyes as she adjusts her dress. Her fingers swipe across kiss-swollen lips and pure fucking male pride sweeps through me. I did that.

“See you, around,” I say with a dimpled smirk. She flinches but nods, skirting around me to prowl toward the door. I watch the sway of her ass until the door closes behind her.

Oh, sweetheart, the chase is on. And Ialwayswin.

MIDNIGHT SNACK

DALTON

Why do they always fucking squeal? I swear pigs are my least favorite animal, right next to sheep.

Another piece of meat swings from a hook in the basement of Rhys’ cabin. Deaton chills with his feet kicked up on a table housing empty bottles of beer. Rhys quietly cleans his rifle, acting oblivious to the animal noises erupting from the mouth of my current prey.

Something’s wrong.

Something changed, breaking off and rattling around inside me after the kiss with Natalia in the bathroom of Boudreaux’s restaurant. I can’t get the feel of her lips, the softness of her skin, and the buoyancy of her ass out of my head.

Dissatisfaction weighs heavily in my gut. Burying my blades in the swinging meat sack over and over doesn’t dull the roar ofsomethingin my veins. I need to see her again.

For research. For my parents. Nodding, I swipe the back of a hand across my brow, smearing blood. Huh. I guess I blanked out again. I can’t remember when the piggy stopped squealing.

“I’m going out,” I announce, turning away from the strung up carcass.

“Zachary—” Deaton starts, stopping when I whirl on him with wild eyes, blood staining my skin and hair.

“Relax,Dad. I’m not going hunting for something else to kill. I’m going to see a flower about a lead on my parents.” The lie slips off my tongue with ease and Deaton cocks a dark brow. He clearly doesn’t believe me, but what the fuck ever. I’m a grown ass man. My babysitting days are over.

“Let him go, D. You won’t reason with him with that look in his eye. And I’d like to not have to bury another family member so soon,” Rhys replies dryly, never looking up from the disassembled weapon.

Scowling, I flip him a middle finger he ignores because I’m not sure who he thinks he’ll end up burying, me or Deaton.

“Wash the blood off and don’t do something stupid.” Deaton’s voice slips into his usual indifferent tone. Not that I needed his permission anyway, but I give him a nod before striding toward the stairs. They can clean up the mess for once.

I need to see my little temptress again. Maybe even test out if she tastes as sweet as I remember or if novelty heightened everything.

* * *

Two days and she’s still just as pretty. I trail a phantom finger along the curve of one cheek. Maybe she’s prettier asleep.

Oblivious, eyes closed. She can’t look at me with a mixture of lust and regret, like when our lips parted in the bathroom. I didn’t need to ask if she regretted the kiss.

Witnessing her remorse caused an odd feeling to take up space in my chest. I have no name for it. But at least the spot next to her in the bed is empty. With the way I’m feeling tonight, I’d go against Deaton’s directive to not do anything stupid and murder the man lying next to my temptress.

Fuck. Whyher? Because she laughed at me? Or because she didn’t pull away when I tried genuinely flirting with another human being, abandoning pretenses and lowering my defenses a little?

Maybe that was it. For the space of a few seconds, I allowed myself to be vulnerable, and she ate it the fuck up. And later, she didn’t push me away when I kissed her, despite fumbling with the act initially. No, her regret happened after she let me kiss her.

Now, I need another taste. My eyes slide from her face to the blankets tangled around her legs. There’s something else I’ve never done that I suddenly hunger to experience.

Natalia gifted me with my first kiss. I think it is only fair that she lets me sample a woman’s flavor for the first time, too. My hands move without command, gently sliding the blankets away from her mocha legs. Damn, she has nice legs.

I can’t think of a single fucking thing I don’t like about her. Maybe next time, I’ll talk with her longer to see if I enjoy her personality as much as her beauty.

No. Get a grip, Zac. She’s a means to an end. I try to envision the look on her face when she realizes what Samantha knew all along.

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