Hunting Cassidy (Stalkers in the Woods #1)

1. Prologue

Prologue

Cassidy

There are times in a woman’s life when she needs to decide to buck up and take charge. When the shit has hit the fan one too many times and things are spinning so far out of control, and the only thing left is to put on her big girl panties and overcome…

I’m there.

Right at that point. For so many reasons.

I’ve always wanted and wished for a love that was all consuming, burning it’s way through my body, straight into my soul. The kind of leg shaking, earth trembling, mind destroying love.

The funny thing is that I ended up settling for a partner at the law firm. He was smart. Kind enough. Brilliant in all the ways of law. But he lacked the one thing that I needed to really get going. We’ve been together just over a year at this point and I always thought things would get better. That he would… feel more.

Primal need . For me.

He never failed to get it up to the porn I can always hear him watching before I lay there and he crawls over me, spearing me with his cock a few times before coming on my tits and asking: “was that good?”

No, Stuart. That wasn’t good.

That was fucking awful. Again.

But I never challenge the status quo, never fought for more because I was a powerful business woman. I had it all. The swanky apartment, the partner label on the door, a list of clients who owed me half a million in fees. For all intents and purposes, I had everything I ever needed and more.

Except the one thing I truly wanted.

Someone who burned for me. That… passion. The excitement of being choked to within an inch of my life and fucked until I can barely breathe. And then… the aftercare. Sweet nothings being whispered into my ear, confessions of love, declarations that I’ll always be the center of his world.

I sigh, grabbing my journal and flicking it open to one of the last pages in the book. Glancing over at a snoring Stuart, feeling my absolute lack of satisfaction while he sleeps like a baby, I hop out of bed and walk to my kitchen. Flicking on the light and dimming it so it’s still dark enough not to fully wake me, I begin.

Once again, Stuart can’t fuck me worth a damn. Once again, he’s a two pump chump who empties his balls on my chest and leaves me to wipe it with my shirt. Once again, he’s sound asleep while I feel like an old hag with cobwebs growing between her legs, because why in the fuck can’t he just go down on me and get me off?

I suppose it doesn’t matter. I guess this is just what life is. One sad fuck after another. But at least he’s stable. He’s secure. He is successful.

The whole package, really.

Except for the way he doesn’t touch me.

But those fantasies are just deranged anyway. What type of lawyer wants to be spanked, strung up and hunted? None, that’s what. It’s unnatural. It’s unhealthy.

And yet… I can’t stop myself from wanting rough hands forcing my legs apart, forcing me to take his cock over and over until I’m out of my mind with pleasure.

I pause, pushing the pen into the page, leaving a big ink blot before sighing and changing my tune.

No use in wishing for it though. He will likely propose soon and then that’s that.

I have a big case coming up. Against Mr. Cross. One of his numbered companies, the ones he houses the baby companies in, has been accused of polluting the river and dumping chemicals in it. That river leads to a lake which gets pumped and cleaned for people to drink! It’s abhorrent. It’s one of my first biggest cases. I’ve had lots of big cases, but this is my biggest.

If I win against Mr. Cross, I can prove my place at the firm. I think I have it in the bag. The evidence is damning. He didn’t even try to hide the barrels leaking toxic sludge onto the embankments and then into the water.

So many people are sick. The hospital is overrun. It’s a nightmare. If I win, I win for all of them. The money will treat their water, fix the river and help them heal from this fucking shitshow.

He’s a bad dude. Who cares about money more than the value of human life?

Bad people, that’s who.

But I have every intention of making an example out of him and making sure that my name is right up there with the activists of my time.

Footsteps interrupt my journalling.

“Hey, baby, can’t sleep?” Stuart’s voice is rough around the edges as he leans against the door.

“Yeah, just doing some journalling, I’ll be in bed soon.” I try to smile, but I can’t. The outline of his cock strains against his sweats and I know he wants ‘round two.’

He grins and palms his cock. “Wake me up if I fall asleep.”

“Sure thing.”

I won’t.

Because I don’t want to.

God, my head is pounding. I need a damn break from all of this. I need to just get away and not think about cases, or Stuart. Maybe I should call Monique and see if she wants to go ski or something.

I lift my pen from the page to chew on the end. It’ll have to be next year. This case might take a while with how complex it is. Putting the pen back on the paper, I make myself a note:

Call Monique.