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“Very funny,” Luca mutters.
We begin our descent, Brecken pulling out the small, familiar notebook from the back pocket of his jeans. By the looks of it it’s been referred to frequently, the edges dog-eared, the sheets crinkled with constant handling and striking through. The sight of it forces me to swallow hard, a bolt of lust hitting me low in my stomach. There must be only one reason why he’s referencing it now. It’s a taunt, but also a clue.
Aware of me watching him leaf through the pages with blatant focus, a slow-spreading smile edges Brecken’s mouth. His eyes lift to mine, possession flooding my veins with how he looks at me. At how he makes me feel.
I regulate my breathing, my mind distracted by thoughts of what’s coming.
“When we land,” Brecken begins, “it will be a twenty-minute drive to our lodge. It’s surrounded by woods,” he confirms.
I suck in a breath, my heart thundering.
“It’s a good job you’re wearing jeans and boots, because we’re going to drop you a mile out, and you’re going to have to run to safety.”
I nod, totally onboard, even though the thought of trying to get to a base, in an area I’m unfamiliar with terrifies me.
Luca explains. “We’ll hunt you, capture you, and fuck you dirty in the woods, Winter, and then you can check this off your list too.”
Primal kink. Hunt me like prey. Splay me apart and feast on me like starving animals.
Already I’m wet, just the thought of each of them tracking me through the terrain until they’re on me has my core throbbing.
In our quad of seats, side by side and facing each other, I take in their clothing. Nothing about their attire struck me as unusual as we readied for our trip. Jeans and boots, shirts, and sweaters are normal for Aspen. Practical and casual at this time of year. But now I notice that the brand of boots is an exact match. That they all wear black jeans.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Lampson Field. We’re heading for our cabin in Mendocino County, northern California.”
“It’s secluded, safe, private,” Reuben confirms.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re in a blacked-out BMW, traveling at speed along roads surrounded by forests in every direction. I use the time to study the map on my phone, a pin dropped on the property so I know where to run. Aside from the dense woods, there’s a little creek that leads to a small pond within their boundary.
My heart hammers in my chest. My stomach is twisted with a heady cocktail of desire and fear. When we turn off the road onto a dirt track, Luca stops the car.
“You’ve got five minutes, then we’re coming for you.”
The words sound so final. So resolute.
Leaving my coat, I jump out of the car. No sooner have I slammed the door shut than they speed off, stones kicking up from the tires, dirt and fine dust shimmering in the red glow of the rear lights.
I take a deep breath, two, as the lights disappear into the night. Part of me wants to win this by walking straight down that same track and arriving at the base before them. But my inner slut is telling me I want to live through every second of this experience. Still, I don’t hang around. I want to make them work for their dinner, so I get moving in a north-westerly direction, my strategy to come at the cabin from an angle. Or the rear.
The first thing I do is turn off my tracking app.
Those boys.Did they think I wouldn’t remember?
Under a star-filled night, I walk briskly through the thickly growing trees. The moon is non-existent, just a thin crescent slotted between occasional clouds. Visibility is low, and using my phone torch would be counter-productive. However, I’m thinking the light is worth the risk when, within minutes, I’m already bruised and scraped, my skin lashed at by branches that I notice too late. Underfoot, the ground is soft, but my footfalls sound like dinosaurs’ feet on the leaves and mulch.
It’s cool tonight, my breath misting in front of me.
I follow a small incline down, the ground dipping away sharply under me and making me lose my footing. I stifle a cry of alarm, but the gasp is audible.
Fearful I gave myself away, I scan the near-distance, looking for the lights of a dwelling through the trees. Nothing. Quickly, I bring out my phone and check my position.
A third of a mile done.
I dust myself down and carry on, traipsing over rotten, fallen trees. That’s when I hear it. A resounding crack. Freezing, I look behind me, staring into the dark.
Please be an animal.
