Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Cadence
For a second, I just stare at him. Is he crazy? After what just happened, no one is touching me.
And then I remember. The Hunt ends when I let one of them have me.
Let being the operative word and the one the last man had clearly forgotten. But until then, the hunters will keep coming…
And any one of the men I’ve run into already might take another go. Whatever their reason for entering this competition, they all want to win.
And the prize is fucking me.
I signed up for this…
The soldier pulls me close enough to hook his other arm around my waist. His movements are slow and careful, despite the danger that surrounds us.
Which is why, I don’t resist as he lifts me into his arms, straightening up while holding me so we’re both standing. “Decision?”
I appreciate that he’s asking my permission. This isn’t a moment to be weak, it will only make the whole situation worse and bravery is one of the few attributes I’ve got in spades.
“Yes,” I answer simply, making my choice.
Maybe it’s his gentleness that allows me to give in to him. He isn’t like the others. Which is why I’m choosing him.
Not that he’s weak. My soldier boy just knocked a man out. A really strong one, at that.
I’m not wearing leggings or underwear, so he only has to yank at the waist of his cargo pants, the heavy fabric dropping to his knees.
I look down to see the kind of cock I’ve only ever dreamed about. He’s not even fully erect and he’s so thick that it makes my mouth water. Or maybe that’s the blood from my wounded tongue.
He bends a bit, hooking my knee and wrapping one of my legs around his waist.
And then he plunges inside me.
I should be shocked. Scandalized even.
But as he sinks deeply, every nerve lights on fire and my head tips back, a cry of a completely different kind falling from my lips. He feels so good, I forget everything else.
But once he’s inside me, he stops, his body freezing in place as his muscles grow completely rigid against my softer flesh. “Why is there blood on your chin?”
He asks it like he’s angry. I blink at him in confusion, too wrapped up in how he feels to process the question.
The PA crackles. “Game over.”
My soldier boy pulls out of me, and I make the smallest whimper of regret as I’m left feeling empty without him. He could have kept going. I would have welcomed it.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders, my leg tightening around his waist, my invitation not spoken but still totally obvious.
“In a minute, sweetheart, I’ll give you everything you want.” His voice is quiet as he tips his forehead down to rest on mine. It’s a moment of intimacy that I haven’t experienced in a very long time, and it steals my breath.
I stare at him, my lips parting from my surprise and that’s when more blood streaks down my chin.
He makes this snarling growl that reverberates in his chest and moves through me. I blink in surprise, wondering at the change and if I’ve made a terrible mistake.
Did I let the wrong man claim me?
He steps back, his hands raising in a way that makes me cringe, and I hate it. I hate showing fear like that.
The bonded feeling is gone, replaced with anger, as my own fists ball at my sides and I’m ready to fight no matter the outcome.
It’s not healthy, but it’s me. Aggression brings out aggression in me every time.
But instead of raising his hand to me, he wipes my chin. Then, he shrugs off his tank top, dropping the fabric over my head.
It falls down my thighs, covering the exposed parts of my body. My eyes widen in surprise. Why did he do that for me? He can’t care about what other men are seeing, can he? We’ve known each other for mere minutes. Why is he protecting me in this small way?
I don’t have a chance to ask, shirtless, he turns back to the man who caused my tongue to bleed. “Get up, motherfucker,” my soldier boy snarls.
The guy sits up, looking dazed, but I still take a step back. I’ve have taken on many fights that I never should have touched, so it isn’t sense that makes me shrink, it’s straight-up fear.
No one has ever made me feel as powerless as that piece of shit in the dirt, not since I was a small child. It’s a feeling I hate more than any other.
My soldier catches my reaction and his hand brushes down my arm, his fingers gentle before he steps in front of me. “I am going to give you until the count of three to collect yourself and run before I beat you senseless.”
“The Hunt is over,” the other man spits. “You won.”
“It’s not about winning,” soldier boy fires back. “It’s about treating the woman, who gave herself to us, with the respect she deserves.”
“Fuck off,” the other man barks. “You can go fuck yourself?—”
“Three.” And then soldier boy dives forward, tackling the other man back to the ground .
I bring both my hands to my mouth to hold in the scream as the two men roll in the dirt, fists flying.
I can’t tell who’s winning, only that they are both hitting each other with a force that would knock most men out cold.
“Fighting is over,” the PA crackles.
Soldier boy wrestles to the top and drops his fist into the other man’s face once, twice, three times with a punishing force that reverberates through the ground, the sick sound of it filling the air, before he stands up.
“When you’re having your dental work done, I want you to remember that gentlemen do not hit ladies. Ever.”
And then soldier boy kicks dirt over the other man before he turns back to me.
I raise my brows, my eyes wide with my surprise. I’ve pictured this kind of moment. One where instead of just blowing up my life, I actually teach another person a lesson about respect.
Mostly, I just get smacked back when I try.
And if I’m honest, no one has ever fought like that for me before. Never.
My bestie, Ava, picks me up when I fall. She’s amazing like that. But she’s not a fighter. Never has been.
Soldier boy walks back toward me, but his eyes aren’t on me, they’re behind me. I turn to find three other men standing where the path winds into the forest.
Two are men I knocked down myself, the other stares at me with a raw hunger that makes me shiver.
Behind them, several more men stand in a neat line. They are all in black with their faces covered. A shiver of dread creeps down my spine.
“Guards. They won’t hurt us.” Soldier boy wraps his arms around my upper legs, lifting me in the air.
“Where were they when that shitbag was attacking me?” I glare at them as I hold onto soldier boy’s shoulders.
“They were there,” he answers. “They would have intervened if I hadn’t.” And then he starts walking toward the guards.
My head whips back to him as I suck in a breath. “What are you doing?” I hiss. I’m not the girl who gets carried, and with men all around us, it feels like he should be free to fight.
“Proving a point,” he answers, my stomach coming to his chest as I place my hands on his bare shoulders. “You’re mine. ”
His muscles ripple under my hands, the breadth of his shoulders and muscled biceps easily carrying my weight.
While part of me would like to argue, his skin against mine makes me feel way safer.
But I still hate that he’s carrying me closer to a hostile looking group of men.
Some of my worst fears have been pricked tonight and I’m completely raw.
“Don’t be scared, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he walks. “I won’t let any of them hurt you.”
“I’m not scared,” I lie, which is another pattern I like to repeat. When in doubt, bluff.
His arms tighten around my thighs. “I’m glad you’re not, but either way, none of them are touching you. You can bet on that.”
“You’re going to fight all of them off?”
He smiles up at me. “I’d have some help, wouldn’t I, little lioness?”
Heat fills my cheeks. “How do you know that?”
“I saw you, from across the field, take out two fighters. Impressive.”
I dip my head lower, curling around him as we pass by the very men he’s discussing. “Thank you.”
“You could have been in the military.”
“Maybe.” I’m not sure an organization like that would have me, it requires a stability I lack, but I keep that to myself. No need to ruin his idea of me in the first five minutes.
“What’s your name?” We enter the woods following a path that I can barely see as he moves with complete ease.
I’m aware of some of the guards moving through the woods too. I catch the snapping of branches, but in the darkness, I can’t see them.
“Cadence, but everyone who really knows me calls me Cade,” I say, my arms relaxing enough that I slide one hand from his shoulder, up his neck and into his dark hair. Who knew I’d like being carried?
“Cadence. Nice. I like it. I’m Zane.”
I’d like to say it’s the first time that I’ve let a man inside me when I didn’t know his name. But I will never forget Zane. Not his name, not the way his broad chest feels, or the way he carries me.
I don’t normally like macho displays, but this feels different. It doesn’t feel like posturing, its more…protection. It’s a completely foreign feeling and I tuck it away, to think about later.
We clear the wooded trail, coming out of the trees and into another small clearing.
Wooded areas like this are rare in this part of Nevada.
This little oasis is fed by a river, which wraps behind three cottages that stand in an adorable little line.
“What are those?” I suck in a breath as I take in the picturesque view bathed in moonlight.
“The one on the left…” he nods in its direction. “That is where we’ll stay for the next three weeks.”
I stare at the cottage, a calm washing through me. Just me, him, a river, and trees.
As long as I can keep it together for three weeks, this was a good decision, and for the first time tonight, I’m glad I came. Here I just might be able to think. Breathe. Relax.
It’s a state I can’t seem to sustain for longer than a day, so this will really be a totally different experience.
My fingers tighten in his hair. I’m not sure how I’ll keep it together for that long without the restlessness creeping in. But Zane is amazing enough, that I’m going to try.
For the next three weeks, this is…home.