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I don’t like how I’ve known this man for all of three seconds and he already thinks he has me figured out.
“Let me chase you. Let me show you what it’s like to be wanted,” he whispers, moving his face even closer.
I close my eyes and inhale. I can smell the liquor on his tongue, mingling with the stale carpet and lingering tobacco smoke from another room on the same floor. His bodywash wafting from his skin gives it a fresh hint, intoxicating me.
I want to say no. I should say no. But I don’t.
“What happens when you catch me?”
He’ll murder you, duh, my inner self chimes, but I push it away.
“You’ll have to wait and see.” A more sinister smile pulls on his lips.
“And if you don’t catch me?” I challenge.
“I always catch my prey.”
That simple sentence does something to my insides. My stomach erupts with butterflies, heat skates across every inch of my flesh, and my heartbeat quickens. I can’t grasp the why because I know this is stupid and dangerous, but I can’t bring myself to leave. And I know he sees it too.
“Run, little spitfire.” That’s the only warning I get.
I give him one last look and a smile of my own, then turn the knob and back out of the room. Once there is a good three feet between us, I spin around, and I run. My feet beat against every other step as I take them two at a time. I don’t look back again, because I’m scared if I do, I’ll stop.
When I make it to the bottom, I hang a left and hit the alley running between the motel and the abandoned building next to it. Cracked concrete sticks up from the ground with weeds, but I jump over it, never slowing my pace. I think I can hear him, but I’m not sure, so I keep going.
When I reach the end of the alley, it opens into a field. A very vast, overgrown field, where God only knows what lies under the surface. I pause for a moment. It would be the perfect covering, but even horny me knows stepping in there can’t be smart. Instead, I go right, staying close to the abandoned building.
My shoulder scrapes against the brick as I run beside it, doing my best to keep my feet on the small path that’s been made by other people walking the exact same way. I can see a chain-link fence in the distance, and I’m ready to jump and climb over it, but before I can, Stallion appears from the field and grabs me.
Adrenaline shoots through my veins as soon as his hands touch me, and goose bumps break out all over my skin. “Caught you,” he whispers, dragging me into the field.
I try to fight. It’s purely instinct and nothing else, but he’s stronger. A lot stronger.
Once we’re hidden by the overgrown grass, he places me on the ground. I try to crawl backward, but he catches my ankle and flips me onto my stomach. His weight bears down onto my back. “I caught you once, and I’ll catch you again.”
Every ounce of fight leaves me. His breath is like fire on my skin, leaving a trail of ashy desire in its wake. Touch me more, I beg in my mind, too scared to say the words out loud and ruin the moment. Maybe he can feel my want or even smell it on my flesh, but he gives in to my silent plea and drags his hands down my sides.
Closing my eyes, I let him move my body where he wants it. He turns me around, then cups my cheeks in his big hands. “Look at me.”
When I open my eyes, his dark amber ones are staring back at me. They’re a cold contrast to his warm skin. His tongue juts out and runs over his lips and makes me tear my gaze from his. He moves slow, calculated, like a perfect predator knowing what the motion is doing to me. It’s far more erotic than it should be, or maybe I’m just really horny.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathes over me.
More butterflies take flight in my stomach. Of course I know I’m pretty, but hearing it from someone as hot as him gives me a spark of newfound confidence. Hell, he didn’t even know what I looked like before offering me cash to sleep with him. The only photo I have online is one of a snake wrapped around my hand with perfectly sharp, pointed nails at the end of each finger. That alone should have made me feel pretty good, that of all people, a stranger found my hand attractive enough to pursue me, but everything is always better in person. And I’m learning that the more I stare up at him.
I part my own lips and wait as he lowers his face. Anticipation builds in my limbs, causing them to twitch as his stare bounces between my eyes and my mouth. “Kiss me.” Like all he needed was my approval, he presses his lips to mine.
He tastes like the liquor I smelled before and bad decisions—bad, bad decisions—but I can’t bring myself to stop. I push my tongue between his lips, then move my hands to his head. I place one at the base of his neck, letting the tips of my fingernails dig into his skin. With the other, I run my fingers through his soft hair. It’s damp, like he’s freshly showered, something I never noticed before, and it helps cool the heat on my skin.
His lips leave mine and trail down my jaw to my neck, until they hit my collarbone. He flattens his tongue against my skin, then runs it up, only stopping when he licks my cheek. “Sweet.”
That one simple word has my panties dripping, my knees wanting to squeeze together, and my mouth wanting to whisper his name, only I don’t even know his name. “Wh—what’s your name?”
A question I should have asked before I came all the way here, or let him chase me, or touch me, or kiss me, or lick me.
“No names. Call me whatever you’d like.” He moves further down my body, kissing every inch as he goes.
“What are you going to do to me?” Normally, I could do without the talk, but I want to hear his voice. I want the rough, gravel whispering dirty things into my ear since I have nothing else of him. I don’t know his name, his address. Nothing. All I get is his body and voice.
