Page 14 of Hunt Me (The Skulls #1)

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Ruaridh

M y eyes are closed, but they are still being blinded by sunlight. Fuck why do they feel like they have had dirt rubbed into them?

I go to lick my lips, but there is a noticeable absence when I do it — any saliva that was once in my mouth has dried up, making me feel like I ’ ve been eating dust in my sleep.

What the fuck happened last night?

Just as I shift, still not strong enough to open my eyes, one of the worst smells I ’ ve ever smelt hits me. Instantly I retch, stomach contracting but nothing comes out.

A pained moan sounds to my left, and I freeze, realising exactly where I am and who I ’ m with.

My mischievous little deer. No, not just that, she has a name.

Fauna.

Memories assault me from last night as I recall the sick satisfaction I felt finding out her actual name.

It was then that I knew she was one thousand percent fucking mine. The overpowering possessiveness I felt would have terrified her and sent her running for the streets if she ’ d even felt a hint of what I was planning.

My little deer ’ s name is Fauna, how fucking perfect. A shit-eating grin breaks over my face, and I don ’ t try to stop it. I didn ’ t think it was possible to feel so smug, especially with a raging hangover like the one I have right now.

Her name perfectly matches her large hazel eyes, sandy-beige skin and ragged curls that fall all around her. But best of all, she matches me. She matches perfectly with what I had known she would be since that very second I noticed her. My Fauna is always running, ready for me to chase her.

Another pained moan breaks my obsessive thoughts.

Mischief over here had a little too much to drink last night and passed out in my arms. I ’ d fought the drowsiness, wanting to stay awake in case any of those rats from the sewers had followed us, but I must have caved at some point.

Thankfully, I had barricaded the door as a safety precaution when I came back up last night.

I crack one very dry eye open, finding locks of her wavy brown hair fanned across us both, and my cheeks begin to ache with the way I ’ m grinning so hard.

Her hair is matted, but that doesn ’ t take away from her beauty, in fact, it adds to it.

The soft look she has on her wee hungover face and the bit of drool at the corner of her plump lips is adorable.

My free arm reaches overhead as I attempt a full-body stretch.

This tiny sofa is not in the slightest bit comfortable; no cushioning, just pain.

Some people's tastes will never make sense to me. They could have chosen from all levels of comforts, and instead, they picked this torturous antique. If the virus didn ’ t kill them, I bet trying to survive in the new world did.

Thinking I ’ ve made it to my successful stretch without disturbing little miss mischief next to me, I relax too soon.

An almighty pop of my back disturbs the silence seeming to echo around the hollow ass room.

Fucking minimalists and their lack of clutter.

Of course, my luck is up and the sound wakes the beauty beside me from her slumber.

Fauna shifts against me, letting out a dissatisfied grumble as she adjusts her body beside me.

The movement causes the air to shift and I get hit by a brick wall of that disgusting smell again.

I pinch my nose quickly.

I fucking hope that ’ s not her breath.

Thankfully, my little deer must smell it too because she ’ s up like a lightning bolt, and before my sight fully focuses on her curled form, she ’ s heaving her guts up.

I can ’ t help myself, maybe it ’ s a mixture of dehydration and the nasty fumes but I ’ m chuckling at how adorable this all is.

‘ That bad? ’ I ask.

She groans before bending forward, heaving again.

I sit up, taking her hair into my hands so that it is out of her way, and gently rub circles across her back.

It must have been a while since she had a proper meal because her next retching session just comes out as dry heaving.

Fauna sucks in gulps of air before letting herself fall backwards and collapsing into my embrace. Her breathing is laboured, and her eyes scrunched up, so I continue my rhythm of circles on her upper back as I tuck stray strands of unruly brown hair behind her ears.

Despite the noticeable smell of shit clinging to us both, clearly from the sewers, her hair still smells intoxicating. Its sweet, like fresh honey and entirely like her. Not having an ounce of self-control, I angle our bodies so that I can discreetly bury my face into it, breathing deeply.

Yes, I know the smell of her is most likely her sweat, but what can I say? I ’ m a man obsessed. And she smells too fucking good.

After lying like this, not a peep from either of us, I begin to think she has passed out again.

How long has it been since I ’ ve had someone in my arms like this? Felt so warm and … fuzzy.

I huff a quiet laugh at that. There is not a chance I would ever say that thought aloud. It would definitely get my ass kicked by the lads back at the stadium, not to mention ruin our reputation around these parts.

‘ What ’ s so funny? ’ her voice is weak, and she doesn ’ t move from where she is bundled in my arms.

‘ Life, ’ I sigh.

Life is a strange one for sure. One minute, you ’ re laughing with your family, the next half of them are dead and you ’ re your little sister's only protector – a responsibility I failed at and with devastating consequences – then you ’ re all alone.

The lingering ache in my chest rises again at the memory of Isla.

It ’ s been years since I saw her vanish into the flames.

A part of me broke that day, and it has never been repaired since.

Warmth is absent from my chest as soon as Fauna moves; opening my eyes, I find her staring at me. Big brown irises boring into my own as if she ’ s trying to read my mind.

‘ Life ’ s a bitch, ’ she says, her voice firm, then pushes to sit up, then stand.

I sigh, watching her as she moves around the room, ‘ it is indeed, little deer. It is indeed. ’

Her movements stop and straighten. Those big eyes are on mine again. Just like they were last night when I ’ d called her the nickname I ’ d gifted her myself.

‘ Deer, ’ she shakes her head, not doing much to hide the upturn of her lips.

‘ Yes, ’ I smile. ‘ Seemed fitting when I saw the startled look on your pretty face when you fell in the sewers after me. Hunting you only solidified that it ’ s the perfect name. And then it was set in stone once you told me your real one. ’

She laughs. ‘ Fuck my life, ’ shaking her head again Fauna moves back to hunting for something.

I stand from the torturous sofa and follow her.

As if realising there isn ’ t much to the office apart from an empty bottle of booze and some books, Fauna grumpily makes her way into the small kitchenette at the back wall.

‘ What? ’ I ask as she lets out her second audible huff, this one significantly louder than the last.

Fauna slams a cupboard shut. ‘ I really need a drink! ’

‘ I think we drank everything last night, ’ I nod to the empty whiskey bottle scattered in the corner.

‘ Of water, you prick. ’

Ooo, she is feisty today and lucky for me, it's just the way I like her.

The way her eyes scowl at me only fuels whatever fire is lighting inside of me. Her being hungover and pissed off is a million times better than seeing her cry and suffering.

Although it felt amazing having her curled up against me, finally accepting me. I couldn ’ t feel anything but pain for her. And I never want her to feel like that again, even if that means dealing with her being pissed off for the foreseeable, at least she ’ ll have that fight in her eyes.

I grab my small pack where I keep a canister of water. Fauna watches me with suspicion, but her eyes light up when she notices the canister as I walk her way. But instead of watching me, her gaze is fixated on the bottle as she runs her tongue along her lower lip at a traitorously slow pace.

Can I be jealous over a water cannister?

Well, you know what they say… learn something new every day, and today I have learnt that there is no fucking way she ’ s getting pleasure from this crusty metal bottle without my involvement. Petty as fuck, I know, but I don ’ t have it in me to care.

Fauna reaches out to grab the bottle from my hand, but I pull back with a smirk.

‘ Ah ah, ’ I tut. ‘ If you want a drink, ’ I open the lid, ‘ you ’ ll have to be a good girl and open those pretty lips for me. ’

She doesn ’ t react for a second, doesn ’ t even blink.

Then, as if she ’ s shaken off the shock and when what I have said registers in her mind, a soft blush begins to creep up and across her cheeks.

I suppress the groan building inside of me, refraining from following its path with my tongue.

It will be no fun if I cave before she does; I remind myself to wait for her to follow my instructions.

And, of course, my stubborn little deer refuses, crossing her arms across her chest, lips firmly pressed together in an act of defiance. An act that only makes my body heat in arousal.

I shrug, tipping some of the water into my mouth making sure it is a couple of inches from my lips so that she can see the clear liquid. I swallow, humming a little louder than necessary as the hydration helps with my hungover thirst.

My tongue darts out in calculated precision, catching a splash of water that has hit the bottom of my lip.

Fauna watches my movement, pursing her lips. ‘ Dick, ’ she mutters as she shifts on her feet the adjustment causing her thighs to press together.

I laugh, ‘ horny thing aren ’ t you. ’

Her eyes snap from where they lingered on my lips to my own, but I don ’ t miss how they quickly flick downwards again, stealing another glance.

I smirk, raising an eyebrow, and the colour of her flush deepens.

‘ That ’ s not…’ She stammers, ‘ oh fuck off. ’

My smile falls as she turns to walk away from me and a brief rush of panic hits me. I grab her arm before she can take more than a step.

‘ Come on, it ’ s just a bit of fun. It ’ s good to laugh, we are in an apocalypse you know, ’ I try to smile softly but fuck I ’ ve not been like this in… forever.

Fauna must feel my slight desperation because she turns back towards me.

‘ Oh yeh, I ’ m sorry. ’ She says and I relax at her apology. I knew she ’ d see the bright side of things. ‘ I forgot that being hunted by a mad man in a skull mask who then got me drunk and got me to say stupid shit was all a bit of fun in the sunny old apocalypse. ’

I smile. She totally gets it.

A bit of adrenaline is the best thrill you can get, especially when someone as beautiful as my Fauna is causing it.

‘ Exactly, ’ I nod, my shoulders relaxed.

Her mouth opens and then closes a few times. ‘ You really are psycho, ’ Fauna whispers, seeming more like it was to herself, but I hear it nonetheless.

My grin is back as I speak. ‘ Aye, baby, I am. Now be a good girl and open those pretty lips. ’

She weighs my words again, and something shifts inside her. I see it in the way her eyes twinkle, almost as if she ’ s silently challenging me, but the pink in her cheeks gives away her more deprived thoughts.

When her plump lips open and her head tips back, I move towards her until our chests are brushing.

Then I tip the canister back to take a mouthful of the water as I wrap my wrist around her tiny neck.

Her gasp sounds a lot like the beginning of a moan and before she can decide otherwise I tip my head forwards spitting the water between her parted lips.

Our lips brush, sending a spark between us, and I squeeze her throat a little harder as I force myself not to go any further. I hold us here for a second, my hand wrapped around her throat and my lips grazing her own.

Then I step back and release her.

I want to go further. We could do so much more, but I can ’ t. I don ’ t know how she will react. At the moment all I ’ ve seen is mixed signals.

She ’ s clearly nervous, but the subtle challenges she shows in the way she talks back, and how instead of leaving when she could have last night she stayed and drank with me makes me think she ’ s not nervous in a bad way.

My mischievous little deer may be confused, but she ’ s also curious, and that curiosity is outweighing anything that ’ s telling her to leave.