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This morning, Claire was in the kitchen when I went to grab breakfast and coffee for the road. Sitting at the table in a hoodie emblazoned with the name of an elementary school and a cartoon velociraptor, her hair up in a messy bun, she looked like she belonged there. She gave me a smile that stopped my heart before nodding at my clothing.
“You don’t look ready for the woods. Those fancy shoes will slow you down.”
That had made Gretchen chuckle and heat creep up the back of my neck. Gretchen and Margot know why she’s here, but it isn’t something we talk about. When Gretchen stepped out, I’d leaned in close enough to smell Claire’s shampoo, dropping my voice to a whisper.
“If you’re the prey, nothing is capable of slowing me down.”
A flush had crept up the front of her throat, making the bruise I’d left on her neck glow an angry red. Seeing the mark made some animal inside me roar with pride. Mine, the creature gloated, all mine. That had been a new feeling. I’d been left trying to hide a rapidly growing erection behind my briefcase when Gretchen came back in.
I check my phone. Only fifteen minutes have passed.
Fuck it.
Gathering my things, I decide to take an early day.
***
This time I give Claire a ten minute head start. It’s the longest ten minutes of my life. When I sprint into the woods, I can feel everything clicking into place the way it always does when I cross the tree line. Stress from work evaporates, leaving nothing but the sounds of nature in my head. It’s why I live this far out, even though the commute is hell. Although usually I’m hunting whatever animal is in season, or hiking, not stalking a beautiful woman.
It rained last night. Claire’s footprints are easy to spot. She tricked me before, doubling back on her on trail, but she isn’t doing that today. Her prints are deeper, the tread of her sneakers blurred, bits of dirt and grass flung around.
My little deer was running. These aren’t cautious, planning steps. These are tracks left by prey with a singular focus. Get as far away as possible, as fast as possible. Claire’s in flight mode. I fucking love it.
Forty-five minutes later, I’ve followed her trail deep into the woods. The farther I go, the more I suspect she really did go exploring after our last hunt. She’s heading for the lake. That suits me fine. The idea of fucking her on the sandy shoreline grows more and more appealing the closer I get. It’s so enticing that I decide if she lures me away from the lake, I’m going to drag her back to it.
Claire doesn’t lead me away from the lake. I follow her steps right up to the water’s edge. Several large rocks jut out of the lake at different points, and I scan them looking for her. My cock tightens when I catch a glimpse of green fabric. She’s tucked behind an outcropping on one of the larger rocks. I can only see what must be her back, or maybe shoulder, and I know she can’t see me.
She wore her clothing into the water, which would have slowed her. I don’t make the same mistake, stripping fast, slipping into the water without a splash. The water’s cool, but it doesn’t keep my cock from thickening as I picture the shock on her face when I sneak up on her. I swim silently, swinging wide to approach her from the back. As I round the rock, it takes me a moment to realize what I’m looking at. It’s a shirt, a green athletic shirt, but it isn’t on Claire. It’s on a bush, a small scrubby thing somehow growing from a crack in the rock.
I blink at it, stunned. She tricked me. But why? Why take the time to set up a decoy when she could have put more distance between us? I spin, water splashing, and scan the shoreline where I entered the lake. At first, I don’t see anything. Then I spot her at the edge of the woods. She’s too far away for me to see her face, but her tan skin glows against the trees without her shirt. Snatching her shirt off the bush, I start swimming for the shore.
The second my feet hit the sand, I rush for the fallen tree where I left my clothes. I get there and freeze, Claire’s shirt still in my fist. Where there should be pants, a shirt, underwear, and boots, there are only boxer briefs and boots; my socks balled up inside where I left them.
She took my clothes. I’m going to be hunting her in boots and black boxer briefs. Shock fills me, and I don’t try to fight back my bark of laughter. When I thought of all the ways today’s hunt might go, Claire stealing my clothes never entered my mind. I like it. I like it so much my cock throbs desperately as I tug on my briefs.
She tricked me. I’m hunting her, but she’s toying with me. Lacing up my boots, I follow her footprints back into the woods, so aroused I don’t even care that I’m half naked.
It takes me a while to catch sight of her. Her ponytail swishes across a small black backpack as she jogs. We’re headed further into the forest. I own nearly 400 acres. Maybe she’s trying to explore every one. A branch breaks beneath my boot.
Shit.
Sneaking a glance over her shoulder, she lets out a surprised squeak. She takes off, and I follow. Blood thrums through my veins, my heart beats in my ears, and I can already feel her heat tightening around me. Branches scrape my chest, the sting urges me faster. I want her nails on my skin, scratching me the same way. I want to hear her cries echo off the trees, feel her fighting and thrashing underneath me. Anticipation makes my muscles sing. I’ll get everything I want. I just have to catch her.
Chapter Nine
Shane
Claire is fast, but I’m faster. I gain ground slowly, but I do gain. She’s tiring, and when she glances back to gauge my distance, she stumbles. She regains her footing, but that misstep is all I need. I tackle her, careful not to crush her.
Even with my caution, we hit the ground hard, my shoulder taking most of the impact. But there’s no time to worry about that. I can’t wait one more minute. I don’t have the self-control to drag her back to the lake to fuck on the shore. I need to feel her cunt convulsing around me. Need her here. Need her now. I don’t want to chase her anymore.
“Yield,” the command comes out guttural and hard-edged, more animal than man. “Strip. Everything off.”
Wide-eyed, Claire obeys, slipping off her sneakers as she rolls out of the backpack. Hooking my fingers beneath the waistband of her leggings, I rip them off in one movement, then go for her sports bra. Tugging it over her head, I fling it over my shoulder with zero regard for where it lands. I don’t care. Not when Claire’s tits are heaving as she pants before me, her nipples begging to be licked.
I press her back against the ground, and she doesn’t resist. I’m glad we landed on a grassy spot because I don’t have the patience to move. Dropping my mouth to her tits, I scatter kisses and nips over her skin, teasing around her nipples but not touching them, not yet. My hips have settled between her thighs, and I’m humping her shamelessly.
Seeking friction on every part of her body I can reach, my cock weeps arousal, streaming into my briefs. The damp fabric clings to me, but I’m too absorbed in Claire’s body to think about mine. Too busy soaking up the throaty little breaths she exhales when I finally tease a nipple with my tongue. Sucking the peak into my mouth makes her grab at my head, threading her fingers through my hair. Dragging my teeth across it earns me a buck of her hips, my cock sliding against her slick pussy.
