Page 69 of Hunted, Season Three

“Fuckkkk!” is grimly murmured in tandem with him relinquishing his hold on the rag.

Thankful to be free from the oxygen blocking contraption, I immediately drop my jaw to suck in a large breath only to have the object sloppily covering it again.This time, unfortunately, the hand that was previously holding mine at bay curls around my neck instead.

The squeeze that’s instantaneously executed is far from gentle.

Calloused fingers crush my airway tighter and tighter and tighter until I’m left with no choice but to choke down every bit of the unusual stench.

There isn’t time or opportunity to attempt another distraction.

Not even a moment to contemplate if what I’m ingesting could kill me or my baby.

One second my eyes are watering in desperation for fresh air and the next my entire frame is collapsing into nothing more than a lifeless lump.

Chapter 15

Nolan

I attempt to slam the door to my truck closed only to have an artic blast slap it back open.

Fuck!

I’m so over this shit.

Between the plummeting temps causing my nuts to freeze to my thigh and the UFC inspired wind that won’t let anyone fucking tap out, I can’t wait to get my ass home.

Warm up.

Drink something hot.

Fuck something hotter.

Ortwosomethings hotter.

My second try at shutting the door ends eerily similar to the first.

Which is bullshit.

It ain’t like I’m that fucking weak.

Definitely less weak now considering how much I’ve been trying to lift to prove to The Kid I’ve still got it.

That his future husband can compete with whatever Matchbox knockoff pulls up next to him on the street.

Then again hauling bags of salt all around town between delivering emergency supplies ain’t exactly light work either.

That’sprobably why I’m on the struggle bus.

Fuck, I don’t remember the last time my back hurt this much.

Got half a mind to have Rabbit roleplay as a massage stripper.

Get her to rub me thenrub me.

Finally getting the damn thing shut barely precedes Post strolling around his own vehicle that he just exited with an amused grin.“They weren’t kiddin’ about aggressive winds, huh?”

A less than entertained grunt is the only retort I give.

Most of the time, you can’t trust a goddamn thing those point and wish wannabe weather wizards say.

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