Page 14 of Hunt Me

“Oh, um. Thank you?” The blush rises to cover my cheeks. “You are too.”

His lips twitch again, and then he grins, looking like maybe I’m the first person to ever call him that. My heart suddenly aches because why hasn’t anyone told him that before? Why haven’t people fallen to his feet in worship?

I shift on my feet, and then he reaches out and flicks the button of my pants open. My breath hitches in my chest as he twists his hand and, with extreme purpose, slides the zipper down.

His eyes follow his own movements, and when my fly is gaping open, he wets his lips, not bothering to mask his hunger. His gaze flicks back up to mine as both hands slide up to mywaistband, and with a single tug, they fall to my ankles, and Arhe’s hands immediately move to cup my ass.

I realize now he’s able to see what I’ve got on underneath my teaching clothes, and I’m waiting for him to respond. I’ve had lovers in the past who knew I did drag but didn’t realize there are pieces of that life I carry with me all the time. They don’t understand why I like it—why I crave it. Why it’s part of me.

And I’m not sure what I’ll do if Arhe turns away from me the way they did.

The pink lace panties sit against my skin like a beacon, cupping my hard cock like they’re putting it on display. Arhe’s eyes darken as they take in the sight, and then I see something feral move across his face as he traces his fingertips over the lace.

“Turn around,” he says and signs when he pulls back. He points behind me. “Hands there.”

I peer over my shoulder and see a headstone. It has the wordsNow Entwined in Eternal Embrace.Seems a little too sensual for a burial plot, but it’s just right for this moment.

I obey him like I was born to do it, my body slightly bent at the waist as my fingers curl into the cool marble.

And then he walks around me, crouching down behind the headstone so I can see his lips.

“I’ll be back. Don’t move, little rabbit. If you do…” His eyes twinkle. “…I’ll have to chase you.”

The way he enunciates that makes my pulse triple, and goose bumps move across my skin. Does hewantme to run?

He doesn’t give that thought an answer. No, instead he leans over me, takes a big lungful of air from the crook of my neck, then turns and stalks off until I can’t hear his footsteps anymore. The woods around me seem to settle—not quite silent, but not loud enough for me to pick up individual sounds.

My hands start to ache as they press against the hard stone, and my knees are aching from holding this position. How long do I wait? Is he watching me now? Is this some kind of test?

Minutes pass, and I wonder if maybe he gets off on humiliation, but no. That doesn’t seem like him at all. Maybe he really did want me to run. Maybe that was an instruction, and I’ve failed him.

Shit. Warmth blooms in my chest as I straighten my back and look around, but the profound realization hits me almost instantly: he’s not here anymore.

He’s long gone.

I sink deep into the feeling of rejection and shame as I grab my pants, pulling them on with slightly trembling hands. My heart kicks up a few paces as I yank my pants back up around my hips and secure the zipper and button. I’m acutely aware of the missing button on my shirt, so I tug it down tight in hopes it won’t be obvious, then turn and head toward the church.

My stomach twists with anxiety as I turn the corner, not sure what I’m going to find, but I immediately see that his truck is gone. He really did leave me alone.

He stripped me down and abandoned me like I was worth nothing.

Anger wells up inside of me, and my entire body heats. I’m shaking as I stalk toward my car and slip inside. My fingers clench the steering wheel, and a thousand scenarios run through my head. I imagine finding him again, tying him up, stripping him down, making him feel the same way I do right now. But god, something tells me he’d like that.

Something tells me this is part of his game.

Except…what if it isn’t? What if I’m imagining things to cover the pain of him leaving me practically bare-assed in a cemetery after he got me all worked up? Christ, did he take one look at me and lose all interest? Or was he ever interested at all?

I’m a little too aware that I might have read too much into that rescue and have now stalked a man who couldn’t give two fucks about who I am or what happened after I left that alley. That kiss might have just been for fun. That kiss might have been the reason he walked away that night and didn’t look back.

My ego fizzles into ash, and my eyes sting.

Fuck him. Because he won’t be fucking me. Ever.

Whatever that was, whatever lapse in judgment, I won’t be doing this again. I will forget about him entirely. Arhe isn’t special, damn it.

He’s nothing.

Now I just need a little bit of time to convince my brain that I actually believe that.