Page 21 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

“Find out,” he invites, dropping my arm. His free hand comes up to my chin, tilting my head up to his as his eyes darken and that look from before, the one where something dark and sinister lurks behind his gaze, finds mine in the light of day.

He’s hiding something darker from me.

But I don’t get a chance to say anything about it. The kiss I expect to be as gentle as his hold on me sears against my mouth; his teeth sinking into my lower lip as he growls, expectant, against me. Immediately I open my mouth to him, feeling his tongue press against mine as the combined taste of my blood, coppery and sharp, and Jed himself takes over my entire existence.

Fuck, he tastes so good. My blood adds a strange sharpness to the act, and I feel myself reach out to grip his shirt, balling the material in my fingers as I drag him more tightly against me. For a moment, I don’t realize what the sound and feeling in my mouth is until I realize with a shock it’s his growl. His fingers tighten on my jaw, holding me with a ferocity just this side of painful.

And he doesn’t let me pull away.

Not that I want to. No part of me wants to pull away from him, and a deeper, feral part of my brain wants him closer than this, if that’s even possible.

But when his sharp canines nip at my lip, nearly drawing blood, the answering jolt that shoots between my thighs is enough to shock my brain into the realization that this isn’t right. I can’t do this. Not with him. No matter how much every part of me begs to.

“N-no. Wait,” I hiss, pulling away from him. “I can’t⁠—”

“I know,” Jed sighs, dropping his arms immediately and pulling away, though a glance at his face shows that he isn’t angry, or disappointed. He’s actually…amused? “I know, Saylor.” Jed runs his fingers through his hair, licking his kiss-swollen lips. “Just give me a second before you run. Please?”

“Why?” I demand, breath coming in fast pants. I know the way back. I know how long it’ll take. My muscles clench; thighs burning as they beg for movement. “Why?”

“So I can remind myself not to chase you.” It’s there again, the dark hunter in his eyes that he tries so hard not to let me see. As I watch, he forces it away, seconds before his eyes cram shut. “Go,” he says lightly, tilting his head back towards the cabin. “I know you need to. So, run.”

He’s right. And his words only make my heart pound harder.

I run.

And with every step, his words echo in my ears and in my brain.

So I can remind myself not to chase you.

Run.

11

Taking up cardio as a hobby is starting to feel like something I should look into. At least, if I did, maybe my lungs and thighs wouldn’t burn and tremble so much from running for more than thirty seconds.

Thankfully, Jed hadn’t chased me. Even though his words sent ripples through my body, shivers up my spine, and it’s hard to tell myself the heat between my thighs is from sore muscles when I can’t help but think of the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice when he’d threatened to chase me.

Or rather, hintted that he wanted to.

My breaths come in deep pants as I slow to a stop; doubling over with my fingers splayed on my knees as I try to suck in more oxygen than my lungs can hold. Everything hurts, and my heart pounds in my chest, beating painfully against my ribs while I try to breathe.

Yeah, I should definitely look into cardio when—if—I get back home. There’s no way I could improve my stamina in the next few days, and where am I going to run? Through the woods?

I’d trip and break an ankle for sure. No, I need air conditioning, a treadmill, and high-quality reality TV to even consider doing strenuous physical activity for my health. Especially running, which is easily the most painful, most boring, physical activity I can think of.

“Shit,” I wheeze, willing my lungs to chill out. It takes a few minutes, and belatedly I remember hearing somewhere that I shouldn’t just stop completely. Instead, I should start walking, trying to cool down and not just stop dead. But that’s easier said than done.

At last, I force myself to resume walking. The cabin is in sight and thankfully Jed is not. If I’m willing to believe something other than the worst, then I’d like to think that Jed is giving me a while to cool down. To stop freaking out over what happened.

To stop obsessing over what his lips had felt like on mine. Or his mouth on my arm as he’d licked the blood from my cut. I know I should’ve made him stop. I know that I shouldn’t have been enraptured by the sight of him licking my blood off my skin.

I know I shouldn’t have enjoyed the sharp tang of my blood in my mouth, mixed with the taste of Jed.

And fuck, that’s the problem. No matter how much I want to freak out. No matter how much I want to say that it was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me…it wasn’t. And way too much of me wanted him to continue. I wanted him to keep going, to see what he would do. I wanted to feel his mouth and tongue and teeth on my skin. Especially on other places of me instead of just my arm. Though, the way he’d started to devour my mouth had certainly been a nice teaser as to what might come.

“You’re fucked up, Saylor,” I mutter, tilting my head back as I walk and trying to convince my muscles to stop throbbing. My feet scuff along the gravel, and I fall into a comfortable silence as I walk, listening to the sounds of the breeze in the trees and things I can’t see around me.

It should be creepy. And maybe when the sun goes down, it will be. But for now, the near-quiet is comforting, and I wish I could see the animals that call this place home. Hell, I wish I’d brought my camera to the bridge. I could’ve lost an entire day there, looking for the perfect pictures. The perfect angles. The perfect…everything. And if Jed had been there? Staring off into the woods with his ethereal blue eyes and that look of near-longing on his face?