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Dear God, was she trying to kill me?
She was a killer. A trained assassin. A triple-threat Hellcat, the first of her kind. She could kill a man in four seconds in one move.
Only this would kill me in less time, and she wouldn’t have to lift a finger.
Blinking big, beautiful blue doll eyes at me, she twisted her lips. “What does that feel like?”
I swallowed.
She swallowed, watching me intensely with open, innocent curiosity in her eyes. That just seemed to make it worse, that she had no idea just what she was asking, what she was doing to me.
“Haina,” I said, shoving my fingers into my hair and breaking eye contact with her once more as I made a scoffing sound in my throat and turned away.
“Why aren’t you calling me Cat?”
“Huh?” I whipped back around to look at her.
“You were calling me Wildcat and Cat. It seemed to be a term of endearment, but now you’re calling me Haina. What’s changed?”
How about the fact that I’d heard her masturbating and orgasming twice a day for the last four days, and every time I touched her, an electric shock seemed to run from her body into mine, landing firmly in my balls.
Wildcat and Cat felt too intimate now.
“You want me to call you Cat?” I asked.
Her shoulder lifted. “I dunno. I … I kind of liked it. I thought we were becoming friends. Don’t friends give each other nicknames?”
I huffed a laugh and hung onto the back of my neck. “Yeah, I suppose they do.” Glancing at her, I smirked. “You don’t have a nickname for me, though.”
“Your name is really short. How do I shortenRix?”
She had a point. I laughed again. “Wildcat’s not short for Haina, though.”
She nodded in agreement, a small smile playing with her sensuous mouth. “I’ll come up with something. Though, it might just end up beinghandsomebecause when I look at you, that’s the first word that always comes to mind.”
It was like a bolt of beautiful lightning struck me in the chest. My feet became glued to the ground, but only for a moment because I wanted to keep up with her and she was still walking.
My smile was stupidly big on my face after that. I shouldn’t be as affected by her calling me handsome as I was, but fuck it. She thought I was handsome and that felt good. It felt really good.
We fell into line together, continuing to walk through the woods.
The birds chirped, and the squirrels tittered overhead, but she didn’t seem to be overwhelmed. She was a fast learner and had figured out how to compartmentalize her senses quickly.
She stopped with a gasp, and she reached into her quiver and had her bow in her hands and an arrow notched in under a second. She didn’t even pause for a breath before she shot up high to the right just as a large, fat, feathered bird flew out from the undergrowth.
She struck the bird in the neck, and it flopped to the ground with a thud.
She grinned at me as we trudged forward.
“It’s a grouse,” I said, picking up the dead fowl by the feet. “And a fat one at that.”
“Just earning my keep.”
We continued on, the grouse now slung on my belt as she kept her bow at the ready in case another bird crossed our path.
“So what does it feel like?” she asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between us as we made our way down the hill through salal and ferns toward the sound of running water.
“What does what feel like?”
