Page 21 of Song Bird Hearts (Green River Hearts #4)

Valerie

T he forest blurs around me, branches whipping past, roots clawing at my boots, my breath ragged in my throat. I don’t know where I’m going, only that I have to run, that he wants me to run.

So, I run.

My heart slams against my ribs like a war drum as my well-worn boots hammer against the scattered pine needles. The cold bites at my cheeks as the wind tears through my hair, and for the first time in days. . .

I feel alive.

Branches catch at my jacket and my lungs start to burn, but I don’t slow.

Behind me is nothing but silence.

Until, a snap of a twig, a whisper of movement far too smooth to belong to anything human.

I cut left, deeper into the trees. My breath catches on a laugh, sharp, bright, and startled by my own thrill.

Is this stupid?

Yes.

Does it matter?

Not even a little.

I dip under a low-hanging branch, then swear and stumble as a dip in the forest floor catches my ankle. I right myself with a grunt, palms scraped, but I don’t stop.

Another sound, closer.

A rush of air to my right.

I turn sharply, skidding through the damp leaves, breath coming hard now. He’s behind me; I can feel him, the presence too large to ignore. But every time I look back, I see nothing but trees, nothing but the idea of him.

Which is worse.

I hit a small rise and scramble up it, my thigh burning with the burst of activity. When I crest the top of it. . .

He’s waiting.

He’s leaning against a tree, one hand in his pocket like he hadn’t just chased me halfway across the woods. His mouth is quirked up in a smile, all suggestion and adrenaline.

I shriek a breathless laugh and spin the other way, nearly sliding on the descent. I hear him move then, quiet, fast, and precise. He’s not chasing anymore. He’s escorting me, flanking me, never far enough for me to forget he’s there.

“You’re not running from me,” his voice calls. Is it from behind? Or is it from beside me? “You’re running for me.”

“Go to hell!” I shout back, grinning like a lunatic as branches slap at my arms.

“I’ve already been, little star,” he says, closer now, almost at my ear. “There wasn’t nearly anything as pretty as you down there.”

My knees buckle slightly at the sound, but I keep moving, breath ripping out of my lungs. He almost lets me get away, lets me think I’m gaining ground. Until a fallen log forces me to leap, and when I land, he’s right there.

His hand grazes my back, barely. It’s a glancing touch that makes me yelp and lurch forward faster.

“You’re playing dirty,” I gasp, laughing through the ache in my ribs.

“I told you to run. I never said I wouldn’t make it fun,” he fires back.

I dart left again, but the woods are shifting around me. The paths are getting narrower, familiar shapes are reappearing. Through the trees, just barely, I can make out the cabin.

I skid into the same clearing ringed with dark pine, my guitar leaning against the log.

My chest is heaving, my hair wild as I drag in great lungfuls of air to try and steady my heart.

The bastard had been directing me, keeping me close enough to the cabin that I’d still be safe.

Somehow, that. . . makes me feel better.

Until he steps out of the trees behind me, calm and unhurried.

The chase had been mine.

But the catching? The catching is all his.

I tense as he stalks toward me. He moves like the creature he takes the name of, slow and silent, a shadow with eyes full of hunger. I turn as if to run again, but my legs won’t obey. Not from fear, but from want.

From the weight of his gaze crawling over my skin like it belongs there.

“You don’t even know what you’re asking for,” he murmurs, his voice raw with restraint.

I don’t speak. I can’t. My whole body trembles—not from the cold, but from being seen too much, from being wanted too thoroughly.

He reaches for me, but doesn’t touch me. He just leans in close, his breath brushing the shell of my ear.

“You want me to pin you down,” he breaths. “Make you beg. Make you say please with that pretty mouth.”

I shiver, watching him as he begins to stalk around me.

“I told you I’d catch you,” he murmurs, voice low and velvet-slick. “I’d chase you forever if you let me.”

I look at him over my shoulder as he moves behind me. “What are you waiting for?” I rasp.

That’s all he needs.

Wolf surges forward, crashing into me like a wave finally set loose.

He’s in front of me before I’m aware of it, his mouth claiming mine in a bruising and desperate kiss.

One hand tangles in my hair, the other gripping my hip almost painfully as he drags me against the hard length of him through his pants.

I moan into his mouth, my fingers clawing at his shirt. He tastes like dark things, like secrets, like fire that burns slow and deep. Everything about Wolf is a mystery except for the way he makes me feel.

We fumble backwards until my back hits a tree, the bark scraping against my jacket as he drops to his knees in the pine needles. This predator lowers himself for me, but his eyes look anything but submissive.

“I will make you beg,” he growls before yanking down my jeans in one swift motion. “And I’ll enjoy every fucking second of it.”

I don’t even have time to reply.

His mouth is on me, hot, unrelenting, ruthless.

I cry out, the sound ripping from my throat as Wolf buries his face between my thighs and devours me like the wolf he is. His tongue is clever and cruel in his worship, and I’m undone before we’ve really even begun.

My hands grab fistfuls of his salt and pepper hair as my head slams back against the tree, my eyes rolling as my knees shake.

“Fuck. . . Wolf. . .”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t stop. He holds me in place, his hands gripping my thighs like a wild animal clinging to his prey. He growls into my pussy, his tongue pushing deeper, his lips sucking harder. He’s relentless as he forces my pleasure to rise.

I come screaming, the sound loud, broken, and wild. The sound echoes through the forest like a warning shot. . . and it should have been.

Because thirty seconds later, as Wolf rips his shirt over his head and prepares to destroy me entirely, footsteps thunder toward us.

Knox is first into the small clearing, his gun drawn, his eyes frantic. Gilden is behind him, breathless, half-dressed and still zipping on jeans even with his gun in his hand.

They both skid to a halt when they see us.

Me, half naked, slumped against the tree, still trembling.

Wolf, on his knees in front of me, lips glistening, shirtless and unbothered.

Knox’s face twists with fury. “What the fuck is this?”

Wolf stands slowly, his eyes meeting Knox’s with unshaken calm. “She’s not in danger,” he explains. “I’m just giving her what she wants.”

Gilden’s brows rise. “Shit,” he mutters, glancing between us. “Can’t believe I missed it.”

Knox’s jaw clenches. “Seriously, asshole?” He tucks his gun away and purposefully looks away from me.

I’m just barely trying to catch my bearings, about to pull up my pants and hide away, before Knox’s next words stop me cold.

“I realize my words were harsh, but you didn’t have to go make an even stupider decision to spite me, Trouble. ”

I blink. “I’m not doing this for spite?—”

“Put some fucking clothes on,” Knox growls. “It’s fucking cold out here.”

It wasn’t spite before, but the moment that man tries to tell me what to do, I decide spite is a damn good idea. I straighten, carefully kicking off my jeans from around my ankles.

“Actually, no. I don’t think I will.”

Knox’s eyes jerk to mine and it takes everything inside him not to look down at where I’m naked. I can see his struggle. “What?” he grits out.

“I’m not finished,” I say, tilting up my chin. “So, you can either stand there and watch or run along back into the house now that you know I’m not in any danger.”

His mouth drops open in surprise, and then his restraint fails and his eyes dip down.

“That’s my little star,” Wolf purrs, running his hand down my hip. “What’ll it be, bodyguard?” He meets Knox’s eyes. “Will you stay, or will you leave?”

Knox tenses, and for a second, it looks like he considers staying. Something kicks in my chest at the realization, but it dies a moment later when he turns without a word and storms off toward the cabin, leaving us with the ghost of his anger.

“Well. . .” Gilden says, tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans, “. . .if the offer to watch is still there, don’t mind if I do, cher .”

Wolf shoots the Cajun an appreciative look. “No need to just watch,” he rumbles. “I’m sure Valerie wouldn’t mind you joining in. Would you, little star?” he purrs, running his hand down my arms.

My breath hitches, my eyes flicking between the two of them.

Gilden grins. “What do you say, cher ?” he says, voice syrup-thick, his muscles bunching at the thought of it. “You like the idea of us sharin’?”

I could say no, but why? What good would it do to turn down the opportunity to be worshipped by these two wickedly sexy men? I’m free. I’m in control. And I’m tired of doing what others tell me to do. I’m tired of following the rules of a society that would rip me to shreds if given the chance.

I reach out my hand for him. “Come on, sweet talker,” I rasp.

He immediately moves over to us as Wolf sinks back to his knees. Gilden drops to his knees beside Wolf, his eyes full of fire as he licks my thigh where Wolf had just left off. His hand slides up Wolf’s arm as he leans in.

“It’s been too long since I tasted you, cher, ” he purrs.

“It was just yesterday,” I say breathily.

He grins up at me. “Exactly. Too long.”