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“Hardly. Can’t ever be too careful with you, Lynch.”
“Hurry up, you’re making me cold.”
“Cold…” With a deft movement, Luca tugs aside my panties and swipes two fingers between my legs. He lifts them up to inspect the tips of his gloves, glossy with wetness. “Not just cold, it would appear.”
“Degenerate perv.”
He laughs and stands, wiping his gloved fingers over my lips. “Needy slut.”
I give him the finger, and he ignores me. He continues his pat-down, feeling my waist, tracing along the elastic band of my bra, squeezing my tits through my dress and giving my nipples a quick, punishing pinch. He checks my arms from shoulder to wrists, and he even checks my ponytail. When he’s done, he steps back with a nod.
“Happy?” I ask drily.
“Absolutely ecstatic, Lynch.” He checks his watch. “Fifteen minutes’ head start. You ready?”
“Double it and make it thirty.”
He throws his head back, laughing through the mask. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I asked, Luca.” I give him a pout. “C’mon. I’ll give you a kiss in exchange.”
“No thanks, Lynch. The only way you’d ever willingly offer to kiss me is if your lips were dripping with poison. I’m not so foolish that I don’t learn from my mistakes.”
I pout and give him my best puppy eyes. “Then do it for me, Luca. As a thank-you present for fixing your dick.”
“My dick is more broken than ever.”
I throw my head back in frustration. “Fine! Fifteen minutes.”
“Ten.”
“You piece ofshit!”
He touches his watch. “Ten minutes starting now. Make it count, Lynch.”
I don’t bother replying; I start running before he can even finish the sentence.
The treeline is stillfull of traps, so I make sure to stick close to trees, never running anywhere the trees are too sparse. I bolt into a full run because a ten-minute head start is going to mean very little when the predator I’m evading is Luca Fletcher-Lowe. Five minutes after I reach the woods, there’s a great distant rush, and then the downpour begins.
“For fuck’s sake.”
My dress is soaked within seconds, and once again I regret the spirit of playfulness which inspired me to dress like a naughty angel. Getting Luca all worked up and excited is fun in its own way, but I don’t want to lose the last hunt for the sake of fun. My chances of winning are already pretty low as it is.
At least the torrential rain will hide some of my tracks. Night is falling fast, and the less light there is, the harder it’s going to be for Luca to pick up my trail.
He does anyway, though. I’m climbing up a steep slope towards thicker pines, hoping for the shelter of those feathery leaves, when I hear Luca’s voice, clear as glass through the rush of rainfall.
“Don’t make this too easy for me, Lynch! Run faster!”
I almost slip on wet moss and buckle forward, landing on my hands and knees. I stifle a curse and carry on upwards, hoping it’ll give me a good vantage of Luca. Looking down, I see a dark shadow fly through the trees, and a thrill flashes through me like lightning.
It’s not quite fear, and it’s not quite excitement, but it feels like both.
“Better slow down, Luca! Your shitty heart might pop!” I holler back.
I veer left, along the ridge of higher ground I’ve climbed, running through the pines. The ground is a little drier there, giving me better purchase, and since I seem to be past the trapsnow, I streak through the trees, fast as I can, my pulse in my skin, my entire body a hammering heartbeat.
When I’ve run all the breath out of my lungs, I skid to a stop, bent in half with my muddy hands on my muddy knees while I catch my breath. I peer down through the thick dusk and the blur of rain, but there’s no movement down the slope. Maybe I’ve lost him. Maybe I manifested a mild heart attack, and he’s keeled over in the dirt somewhere, clutching his heart.
