Page 3

I step outside and catch sight of one of the younger volunteers heading to the lodge, flashlight bobbing in her hand.

I paste on what passes for a friendly smile and call out, "Hey, you seen Delaney around? I've got some paperwork she forgot to sign."

The woman stops, shifting her flashlight. "Oh yeah, she mentioned something about going down to the lake to take photos. Said there's this incredible view of the stars or something."

Of course she did. There's a hidden spot down there where the water goes glass-still on clear nights, stars reflecting across the surface in a way that makes tourists lose their minds. It's also the perfect place to disappear when you're trying to avoid someone.

I take the long path through the trees.

And then I see her.

She's standing at the water's edge, bathed in moonlight, like something pulled straight from my darkest fantasies. Every line of her body is relaxed in a way I've never seen before—shoulders loose, head tilted back to the stars, no tension coiled in that spine that's usually ready for battle.

I watch from the shadows, torn between the urge to announce myself and the intoxicating sight of her completely unguarded. She thinks she's alone, and there's something so fucking thrilling about watching her when she has no idea she's being watched.

She sets her camera on a flat rock, then glances around.

Her jacket comes off first. One sleeve, then the other. But then her shirt follows, and my pulse kicks up a notch.

The black sports bra underneath molds to her curves like a second skin, and my cock hardens instantly.

She kicks off her boots and stretches, arms reaching toward the stars, and I'm memorizing every line of her body.

Then her hands move to her waistband, and I stop breathing entirely.

She peels those leggings down inch by torturous inch, taking her time like she's putting on a private show just for me. When those tiny black panties join the pile on the ground, I have to grip the tree beside me to keep from charging over there.

There she is. Completely naked. Completely perfect. Completely fucking mine, even if she doesn't know it yet.

She steps into the lake and gasps when the cold hits her skin. Water laps at her thighs, making that pale flesh glisten. Perfect skin that's going to look even better covered in my marks.

Her curls go dark and heavy with water, sticking to her shoulders and trailing down her back. Moonlight cuts across her body, a body that I've been dying to get my hands on since she ran away from me like that kiss meant nothing.

She moves through the water, completely fucking clueless that I'm watching.

Doesn't know I'm standing here getting harder by the second, thinking about how simple it would be to wade in there and show her what happens when you run from me.

Press myself against her back, wrap my hand around that pretty throat, and make her remember exactly who she's been avoiding.

I could do it. Right fucking now.

Join her in the water, grab those hips, and drag her back to shore. Pin her down in the soft mud where the water meets the bank and fuck her senseless while the lake laps at her skin. Make her scream my name so loud it echoes off the mountain.

My hand crushes the bark of the tree I'm gripping, the only thing keeping me from charging into that water.

But I don't do that.

Not yet.

Instead, I move toward the shoreline where she's left everything behind. Her clothes are scattered in a careless pile. Boots kicked off, jacket folded neatly, shirt tossed aside. And right there on top, those fucking panties.

Black lace. Barely enough fabric to cover anything. Still warm from being pressed against her skin.

I crouch down and pick them up, rubbing the material against my fingers. I bring them to my face and breathe deep, and fuck, the scent of her nearly brings me to my knees.

Peaches. Sweet and ripe, clinging to the lace.

Not some bullshit perfume either. This is her scent .

My cock strains against my jeans as I drag the fabric under my nose again. All I can think about is burying my face between her thighs. How she'd taste on my tongue. How she'd sound when I make her come with my mouth.

I fist the panties tight and watch her floating out there like she owns the place. She moves through the water, completely oblivious to my presence.

Until she turns and sees me.

Everything stops. Her body goes rigid mid-stroke, her arms suspended in the water as her eyes lock onto mine. I watch the shock hit first, then the anger that follows, rolling off her in waves.

"Jagger!" Her voice whips across the water as she scrambles to cover herself, arms crossing over her chest. "You scared the hell out of me."

I hold up her clothes, letting her black panties dangle from my finger like a prize.

"Nice night for a swim, kitten."

Her mouth gapes, and the rush of power that gives me goes straight to my cock. She's realizing exactly how exposed she is, how completely at my mercy.

"Give me my clothes."

I cock my head, studying her. "Come get them."

She starts wading toward shore, arms still locked across her chest, water sluicing off her skin. "Stop being an asshole."

"You shouldn't be out here. Naked and alone, practically begging for trouble." My gaze drags over what I can see of her. "Lucky for you it's just me. Anyone else might not be so... understanding."

"You're such a dick." The words hiss out between clenched teeth as she moves closer. "Give me my clothes, Jagger. Now."

That little shake in her voice? That's not cold. That's me getting under her skin, exactly where I want to be.

"You want them, kitten?" I let the question hang between us. "Earn them."

Her mouth falls open, genuine shock replacing the anger. "What?"

"You heard me. You came out here alone. Stripped down to nothing. Slipped into my lake. Tell me you didn't want this."

"You're insane." But her voice cracks on the words. That edge of fear and desire tangling together in her throat.

“Then why risk it?” I press. “Why take your clothes off and wade into my lake like a gift left out in the open?”

She runs her tongue across her lips, and I want to bite that fucking mouth. "Fine," she spits out and starts moving toward me.

The water slides off her body like it knows better than to cling to what's mine. Every goddamn drop catches the moonlight.

Her arms are clamped across her chest, trying to hide from me, but it's useless. Each step brings her closer, the lake giving her up to me inch by fucking inch.

Blood hammers through my veins. My cock strains against my jeans, desperate to break free and claim what belongs to it.

And then… fuck.

Her pussy rises from the water, slick and glistening, and I know damn well the lake isn’t the only thing making her wet.

My control splinters by the second. She tries to hide, dragging one hand between her thighs like that’s going to save her modesty now.

“Take your hand away. Don’t hide from me.”

She freezes, eyes locked on mine, daring me to back down.

“You’re already naked, kitten. Might as well show me what you came out here to offer.”

Her breath stutters. I can see the war playing out on her face. Pride, shame, heat. But slowly, achingly slowly, she drops her hand.

And fuck.

She’s perfection, trying so hard not to flinch under my gaze. But her chin is high. Defiant even now. A sweet little contradiction.

“Satisfied?” she spits.

“Not even fucking close.”

I crowd her immediately, stepping into her space so she feels the heat rolling off my body, the size of me, the way I’m holding myself back by a thread.

I lean in, lips grazing her ear. “I want you on your knees, kitten.”

“No,” she says, but it’s frail. A lie she’s trying to sell herself.

I pull back just enough to look her in the eye. “Then no clothes.”

I raise the pile higher, just out of reach, a silent threat hanging between us.

Her eyes flick to the clothes in my hand, then back to my face.

She looks away for a second.

That hesitation? That tiny crack in her defiance? That’s all I need.

“On your knees. Or you’re walking back to camp like this. And who knows who’ll see you? Your competition? The client you're trying to impress? Might be hard to explain why you’re naked, looking like you just got thoroughly fucked in the woods. Appearances matter here, right, kitten?”

Silence. Tension.

Then, finally… finally… she drops to her knees.

“Good little kitten. But I’m not done with you. You’re going to touch yourself.”

She stiffens. “No. I’m not doing that.”

“No?” I lift her clothes higher, my fingers tightening around the fabric. “Then I guess you’re walking back just like this. Naked. Wet. And dripping.”

She grimaces, trying to figure a way out. Good luck with that.

I crouch, my gaze locked on hers. “Touch yourself, kitten. Right now. While I watch. Or I shred every last piece of these clothes and toss them into the lake.”

She freezes. But I know, I fucking know, she’s considering it.

Her hand trembles as it lowers, testing the heat of a flame. She hesitates at her stomach, fingers splayed over bare skin, then slides lower.

Every muscle in my body tightens as her fingertips trail past her belly button.

Then… they disappear between her thighs.

She cups her pussy like she’s not sure if she’s going to go through with it. But she will. She fucking will.

My voice drops to a growl. “Do it. Show me how you fuck yourself, kitten.”

Her breath stutters, chest rising and falling as her fingers dip lower, teasing her folds. She starts slow, then sinks deeper with a soft gasp.

Her lashes flutter, eyes beginning to fall shut.

“Eyes on me,” I snap.

She startles slightly, her gaze lifting to mine. Her mouth parts in silent surrender, and she keeps her fingers moving, just like I told her.

“That’s it. Now fuck yourself harder. Finger that pretty cunt like you do when you’re alone, wishing it was me splitting you open.”

She jolts like the words hit her physically. Hesitation flickers in her eyes, right alongside desire. It’s beautiful. That perfect conflict.

Her hand moves faster. The soft, slick sound of her fingers fills the air between us. And it’s all for me.

My fists clench. My restraint is hanging by a thread.

“Say my name. Tell me who that pussy is wet for.”

“Jagger,” she gasps, her voice cracking as her fingers thrust deeper, circling just right. Her eyes flutter shut, overwhelmed.

“Keep your eyes on me,” I command, dragging her back into the moment. “Show me what you’ve been keeping from me.”

She’s close. I can see it in the way her thighs quiver, her muscles tensing as if she’s trying to hold back the inevitable. Those desperate little gasps give her away. She’s clenching her jaw, wincing, trying so damn hard not to fall apart for me.

And it only makes me harder.

I want to drag her over that edge. I want her to scream my name like it hurts.

Her body bows. A guttural moan rips from her throat. Her hips jerk once. Twice.

Then my name spills from her lips.

She comes for me. Hard. Shuddering against the ground. I watch her fall apart, watch her legs shake, her chest rise and fall in frantic bursts.

When she finally slumps back, I see it. Rage. Shame. Lust. The rawness of being owned and exposed.

“I hate you,” she breathes.

I step forward, crouching so she sees the truth in my eyes.

“You can hate me all you want, kitten. But you still came for me.”

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t have to. That silence is the sound of surrender.

I toss her clothes at her feet. “Get dressed.”

She fumbles, scrambling to cover herself. Her hands are shaking as she yanks up her panties, her leggings. The bra twists in her clumsy fingers.

I turn my back and head a few steps into the woods, my cock aching with everything I didn’t do to her. Her moans, her body, the way she said my name already branded into me.

Then her voice cuts through the quiet.

“So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave me out here?”

I stop. Smirk.

Turn.

She’s half-dressed, her leggings pulled on, bra barely covering her tits, her shirt clutched in one trembling hand.

I stalk back.

She freezes.

I grip her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You really think this is over, kitten?”

With my other hand, I tug down the cup of her bra. Her tit spills free. I don’t touch it. Not yet. I don’t have to. She arches into my hand, starving for more.

I lower my head, dragging the edge of my beard down her throat. Over her chest. I pause at her nipple.

Then I bare my teeth and scrape them over that tight, sensitive peak.

She gasps and shudders. Her whole body coming alive under mine.

Then I pull back and slap her tit.

She yelps, but it’s not pain. It’s need. Her body bucks into mine, her hips catching against my thigh like she can’t help it. A moan escapes her lips, and she tries to bite it back.

“I hate you,” she says, breathless.

I slap her tit again, this time harder. Her nipple jerks under the force and she cries out, the sound wrecked and ruined and needy.

“Mmm,” I say, dragging my knuckles down her ribs. “I like how you show hate, kitten.”

I lean in, my mouth brushing her ear.

“For the next two weeks, you’re mine. And before it’s over, you’ll be screaming it.”

Then I release her. Step back. Turn away, leaving her half-dressed, shaking, and wrecked.

Exactly how I want her.