She hurried to the kitchen, muttering about the oversized beast she called a housepet.
Merrick rose to help her clean up the mess. With their attention diverted, I sped up my strokes.
Hatchet’s hips twitched forward as I stroked faster. “Merci.” Hatchet groaned as he reached for the napkin in his lap and pressed it to his cock as he spilled into it, the hot heat of him coating my fingers in thick pulses.
“What. In the fuck. Are you thinking?” he growled breathlessly. Under his anger, I could hear the barely leashed lust.
I withdrew my hand slowly and licked my lips. He quickly zipped up his jeans and crumpled his napkin on the table. The look in his eyes told me I’d pay, and I couldn’t wait.
Moments later, Kenna returned to serve the carrot cake she’d made earlier. We ate as Kenna and I continued our conversation about fundraising and support for our shared project.
“You’ve been quiet,” Merrick observed, looking at Hatchet with a curious glint in his eye.
“Just tired. Going to head out in a few. Thanks again for dinner.”
“You’re always welcome at our table,” Kenna chirped.
“I’m heading out, too. I have some errands to run. Don’t wait up.”
Merrick grunted. He and Kenna had gotten used to me coming and going at all hours of the day. Hatchet and I said our goodbyes and slipped out the door. The sun had already settled behind the trees, casting the yard in a deep shade. Once we hit the start of the trail and were out of the line of sight from the house, Hatchet grabbed my wrist and whirled me to face him.
Chapter Eighteen
Fury and lust boiled in my chest. Merci gazed up at me, not an ounce of apology on her face for jacking me off at the dinner table—exactly the type of shit I’d instructed her not to do.
“You’re going to pay for that little stunt,” I growled.
She bit her lip, trying not to grin. “It’s fine,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “No one noticed. It’s not like I crawled under the table to suck your dick.”
I invaded Merci’s space and peered down at her, my searing gaze focused solely on her. “I’ll give you a ten-second head start to get to the clubhouse, little Hellcat. And when I catch you—and I will—I’m fucking you on the spot. What’s your safe word?”
Merci raised a brow in question.
“You need a safe word, Hellcat. Your instincts will kick in, and you’ll fight me. But I’m not going to stop fucking you unless you use it. What is your safe word?” I enunciated each word of the question with a bite.
Merci smirked. “Armadillo.”
I shook my head. This fucking woman and her armadillo obsession. “Ten, nine, eight.”
Merci stood still, eyes still wide in confusion.
“Are you going to just stand there? Run, my Hellcat. Seven, six, five.”
Merci spun on her heels, her dark hair flowing wildly behind her.
“Four, three, two, one.”
I listened to Merci crash through the woods, following the sound. I huffed a laugh under my breath. I knew the woods surrounding the clubhouse like the back of my hand. She’d veered off the main path, heading for the stream. I cut through a deer path, branches scraping at my skin and my cock straining in my jeans.
Merci crashed through the woods with all the grace of a buffalo. I stepped over a log and leaped out onto the trail at her heels. She glanced back, and a small shriek left her mouth as she caught sight of me over her shoulder.
I tackled her to the ground, wrapping my arms around her protectively as we hit the ground. She wriggled against me, attempting to break free.
“I said to run to the clubhouse. What are you doing running on this trail, little Hellcat?” I gripped her wrists with one hand and pressed them to her stomach as my other palm slowly scraped against the inside of her thigh. I pushed the hem of her sundress up, teasing her with my fingers, until I came to the apex of her thighs. A low growl rumbled from my chest. “You’ve been bare this entire fucking night?”
She huffed a laugh. “Seemed like a waste of time if you were just going to take them off.”
I shook my head. She was a sight beneath me, cheeks flushed, hair astray with leaves and twigs woven in like a forest witch. Wild. Sexy. Free. The version of Merci that only I got to see. “I’m going to let your hands go. Do you promise to be a good girl?”
