11. Bedtime Story
~ brIDGET ~
I kept looking in my mirrors and over my shoulder, but I never saw anything—or anyone—following me. But how could I know if the car lights behind me were the same car, or five different ones?
I couldn’t, so I kept speeding and pushing through lights all the way to the highway, and then all the way home, changing lanes several times to see if any headlights followed me.
My body was humming—that panic replaced by an electric rush. But the longer I drove with no sign of anyone following, the more I began to calm… and decompress. Which made me angry. I wanted the exhilaration. That was the whole point!
Then, as the adrenaline wore off and left me shaky, but calm, the self-doubt crowded in.
Had it been Cain or not? It had sounded like his growl. But there’d been none of that wonderful scent. And if he was chasing me, he would have pursued me out to the car. Wouldn’t he? Wasn’t that the point of the hunt?
My head spun with questions, none of which had answers.
When I took the exit to my suburb and no cars followed me, my heart took its last thump, then puttered along at a far-too-normal rate while I drove through the sleepy streets until I was almost at my place.
Halfway down the block, I clicked the button and slowed the car, because my driveway was short and my garage door was slow. I ended up sitting in the car, the nose in the driveway, still waiting for the door to rattle up, watching my mirrors and scanning my yard, my phone open and dialed as I looked for any sign that he was here and considered whether it was time.
Fuck!
Frustration rattled through me. As I’d driven up, the arc of the headlights had revealed an Amazon package on the front door, and that was a little lift. Another couple sets of the black clothes that I’d ordered same day. But more equipment for the hunt did me no good if Cain wasn’t here.
I was nervous and angry and not having fun.
Determined to spend the rest of the night in the forum if that was what it took to catch Cain online and ask him if that had been him, I parked the car and tapped my phone a couple of times, then took a deep breath, then shoved out of it, slipping the phone in my back pocket as I stormed around the front to get the package since it was closer than going through the house—and I didn’t want to detour to the living room. I wasn’t even going to change until I had the computer logged on.
This fucker was going to answer some questions.
I picked up the package and started back down the short path towards the driveway and garage, my heels clicking on the cement, one hand clawed into the cardboard box, the other clenched to a fist around my little garage door remote, when something big and warm hit me from behind and took me off my feet.
And as that hand clapped over my mouth again, my heart slammed against my ribs, and my soul fucking sang.
~ CAIN ~
Did she have a deathwish? Just walking out in the open like that in the dark?
But, of course she did.
I would have laughed, but I was too busy crouching behind the largest of the bushes between her front door and garage. I’d intended to dart into the garage once she got the door open, but she was already in the driveway, and then another car passed just as she parked, so I had to wait to be sure.
But instead of going into the house, she’d clacked her way out of the garage and to the front door to pick up the package—my backup plan. If I didn’t get into the garage in time, I hoped she’d come to the front door so I could ambush her when she bent down to pick it up.
Instead, I got an eyeful of her ass as she leaned down in those heels to pick it up, then turned back the way she’d come, her jaw set and one hand clenched to a fist.
Her breasts bounced with every step and made my body tighten.
The moment she’d passed the bush, I slipped out and swept her up from behind, clapping a hand over her mouth so she couldn’t notify the neighbors.
There was a moment when my arms first wrapped around her that my stomach lurched and my heart expanded in my chest. I buried my nose in her hair and inhaled as I lifted and turned her—only to have my little reverie broken by a very sharp elbow straight to the ribs.
I grunted and hunched, my next step a little unsteady because my weight shifted.
She kicked my shins with her heels and I hissed, almost screaming because that was fucking brutal. But delight trilled through me because she was a cat—strong, quick, and never stopped moving, clawing, yeowling behind my hand, and making it very clear what she’d do to me if she had the chance.
Panting, but chuckling a little bit too, I whipped her completely off her feet, lifting her so she was slung over my hip— good luck kicking my shins from there, Bridget— and hesitated for only one second at the garage door.
This was only the first hunt, but it was probably the most important of them all. For the experience we planned to be truly fulfilling, this first hunt had to achieve two things. She had to learn that she could not beat me physically. And that there was nowhere safe. Even her home was not a sanctuary from me.
I wanted her heartbeat pulsing in her skin every second of every day, knowing I could reach her if I wanted to. That she had no control—and I had all of it.
However, neither of us was going to be truly satisfied by this whole arrangement unless there was some kind of build-up. If I’d just hidden in her house and ended this the first time, there might be a rush as it happened, but we’d both be left hollow. Dead.
This first hunt had to be short, sharp, and eye-opening—the promise of something greater to come. An inkling of the growing danger she was in. And a rush that threatened more.
So, as I carried her off her feet and towards that open garage door I discarded the idea of taking her into the house. I’d already proven that I could. And since I hadn’t had time to explore her home yet, there was a risk I’d get turned around or stuck.
This hunt was a taste. An appetizer. She already knew I’d found her at the bar. Now she’d learn that even when she couldn’t see me coming, I’d always be there. No matter where she hid.
The automatic garage door light had come on when she pulled in. But she’d taken a moment to get out, and a few more to walk to get the package. Pulling her hard up against the side of the garage, holding her tightly while she struggled, and whispering to her that it wouldn’t be long, I waited for the light to click off, then darted into the shadows of her space, pinning her up against the side of her car to give more freedom for my hands.
Her chest was heaving, her breath tearing in and out of her nose. She struggled hard as I brought her upright, clawing at me, trying to pull my hand off her face, but when I shoved her up against the car, pinning her against the rocking vehicle with my chest to her back, and one knee between her thighs, there was no room for her to engage those elbows. And keeping her feet off the ground gave her nowhere to go.
“Flatten your hands on the window where I can see them,” I growled, then smiled a moment later when she slumped and did as she was told. “Good girl.”
She shivered.
When I was sure she was secure and we hadn’t been seen, I paused… and for a moment I was almost overwhelmed by the thrill of her firm, sweet flesh in my hands. Her scent in my nose.
Her strength and courage.
God, she was amazing.
And I was hard.
Swallowing, I rocked my hips just once, nudging her. “Can you feel that… feel what you do to me?” I whispered a voice that started in the pit of my balls.
She nodded quickly, her breath still coming short and shallow.
I smiled as I dropped my chin and ran my nose along her jaw, and rasped, “The only question left is… can I do the same to you? What happens if I get inside you, Bridget? What will I find?”
She whimpered as I slid a hand between her and the car, right at the button of her jeans, though I wasn’t going to pop it. Not yet, not tonight. Even if the monster inside was aching to touch her.
She whimpered when I ran fingertips along the seam of her jeans–a simple tease–and she tried to fight once, tried to push me off the car, off of her, but the car moved more than I did. Then she slumped again, her shoulders moving up and down with the force of her breath as she was forced to accept that she was helpless.
I smiled, about to reassure her that if she was a very good girl she would live through this night.
But then… she laughed?