Page 35 of Willing Prey

“You are going to be very unhappy to hear this, what with your passion for rules.” I keep my voice light. “But there’s no such thing as the right way. If we do this, there’s just our right way, and we decide what that is.”

“?‘If’?” Eyes stern, jaw set, Shane’s stare could cut glass. “What do you mean, ‘if’?”

We’re chest to chest, T-shirt to T-shirt, but not embracing.

“You still haven’t told me what exactly you want.” I’m split fifty-fifty between serious and teasing. “I understand this is hard, but I need words. Don’t try to act shy. If you can tell me there’s nothing on Earth that tastes better than my cunt, you can ask me for whatever it is you want here.”

Feathers are rustling in my chest again; hope trying to take flight too soon. Settle down , I want to tell it. Don’t get too excited, let’s see how he does. There’s still a chance he could whip a contract out of those well-fitting jeans.

Fidgeting, he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

Taking my hand, he squeezes it a smidge too tight.

Shane blurts, “I want you to move in with me. For real.” As soon as he says it, his eyes go wide, his free hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Fuck. I wanted to say that more eloquently.”

A giggle escapes, and I have to tease him before he starts spiraling. “Are you sure you’re a lawyer? Because you’re not great at this whole talking thing.”

“I’m great in the courtroom,” he grumbles. Dropping my hand, he toys with the edge of my T-shirt. “Besides, it’s corporate law. If I lose a case, it sucks, but the world keeps turning.”

There’s a lump in my throat, and it grows when his eyes meet mine. He sounds as unsteady as I feel when he says, “If I lose you, I don’t think it will. These are higher stakes than I’m used to.”

I blink back tears. I want to make a joke, ease the emotion, but I don’t. My voice cracks. “ That was perfect. I needed to hear that.”

“Good,” he says emphatically. “That’s probably as good as it gets.”

Sniffing, I try to glare at him.

The look he gives me back is stern. “And while we’re defining terms, don’t you ever leave again. Complain, yell, bear spray me, whatever it takes. Just don’t fucking run from me—not like that anyway.”

“Make it clear you want me, and I won’t—” Before I’ve finished the sentence, he’s pulled me to his chest, hugging me tight.

“Are you sure it isn’t too weird dating a guy who hires women to chase through the woods?” He says it like a joke, but the tension in his body suggests otherwise.

“We decide the right way, remember? Are you done hiring women to hunt?”

A rough chuckle makes my heart skip. “Definitely. You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

“Only took thirty days?” I tease, slipping my hands into his back pockets and squeezing his ass.

“Didn’t even take two. I was done from the moment you flung yourself off the roof.” He makes a displeased noise. “Never again.”

I laugh. “Wasn’t planning on it.” Wrapped in his arms, inhaling his scent—he smells unreasonably good for someone who uses a bodywash-and-shampoo combo—something nags at me.

A question that could wait, but now is as good a time as any to prove that the right way doesn’t exist, but that I believe in our right way.

Steeling myself, I prep him. “I’m going to ask you a question. And the answer can be no, it won’t change anything. But since you went outside your comfort zone, I need to too.”

“Let’s hear it.” He nuzzles the side of my head.

Here we go.

“Would you ever let me hunt you?” My mouth is dry, but my palms are clammy. I brace myself for the no. Keith had been adamant that the hunt only went one way, and while I can live with that, a part of me is desperate to know how it feels to be the predator, to be the hunter.

His whole body goes rigid. “You’d want to hunt me?”

“I’d like to try, but only if you want to. Do you?”

“Yes.” It’s an exhale of an answer, more of a prayer. “With you, fuck yes.”

All right, then.

The hunger in his voice fuels my need. I want to see Shane run from me. Hunt him down. Wear him out. And when there’s nowhere left for him to run, watch him yield.

“I’m so glad.” My voice is as breathless as his. “I’m getting turned on just thinking about it.”

He pulls back, eyes bright, and goes in to kiss me. I turn my head, so he hits my cheek, his stubble dragging across my skin.

“You’ve got three minutes,” I whisper. “Do you know your safe word?”

He stares at me like I just asked him to shove his hand up my pussy and put on a puppet show. “Now? You’ll hunt me now?”

“Like the good little deer you are.”

Shane barks a laugh when I use his pet name; it turns into a groan when I drop my hand to his crotch. I give him a gentle squeeze. He isn’t completely hard, but things are moving in that direction. “Think you can give me a good hunt?”

“You have no idea.” His voice is thicker. His cock is too, swelling by the second in my grip. “Sure you’re up for this? We don’t have a whistle for when you can’t catch me.” The challenge is laced with playfulness, and I struggle not to smile.

Releasing him, I step away. “Oh, I’m going to catch you. It’s just a matter of when.”

“What happens when you do?” he presses. I hold my ground—and his gaze—as he crowds me, the heat of his body almost tempting me to call off the chase and go straight to the catch.

“I devour my prey.” Staying composed is a challenge. I almost giggle; the feeling of the power shifting in my favor is intoxicating and heady. But I want the full predator experience, and judging by how Shane’s pushing me, he intends to make me work for it.

He’s about to tease me, I’m sure, but I speak before he can. “You have three minutes. Use them well.”

The grin that melted me the first time I saw it steals my breath again.

He’s off, racing out of the campsite. Flames leap in my stomach.

The urge to chase him makes it hard not to follow.

I’ve always wanted to try this side of the hunt.

Anticipation builds, my body throbbing with a surprising ache.

Chasing him. Catching him. Pinning him. It’s all I can think about, every other thought shoved from my head.

Shane has no idea what he’s in for.