Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
SUMMER
This is quite possibly the worst vacation in human history.
Everything is going wrong. Our quaint cabin in the mountains is more of a secluded shack.
The air reeks of mildew and must, water stains dot the ceiling, and the lampshades in every room are coated in a thick layer of dust. Victoria and Carson have been bickering since they stepped out of their vehicle, and I’m guessing they started bickering long before they arrived.
When Victoria isn’t arguing with Carson, she’s snapping at Aries, who seems to be gleefully pushing her buttons.
Killian injured himself twice within the first four hours, and we learned the air conditioning doesn’t work, so we plugged in the single box fan we dug out of a closet and crossed our fingers that we wouldn’t all melt.
As if our stay couldn’t get any worse, this morning, David found a dead rat on the walkway.
The thing was huge, and if it hadn’t been dead, I would’ve run screaming and sped home.
Carson suggested that Victoria bring it inside and put it on the table for Noah to perform CPR. If looks could kill, Carson would’ve dropped dead right then and there. She hasn’t said another word to him all day.
Christine and David are so unbelievably generous for paying for all of us to join them on their thirtieth anniversary vacation, but I’ve had nightmares that were more pleasant than the last forty-eight hours.
The two of them are optimistic that our luck will turn around, but everyone else seems just as miserable as I am.
If it weren’t for Victoria’s threat of bodily harm, I’m sure Carson would’ve already left.
I can’t decide who she hates being locked up with more—Carson, Aries, or me.
Even after our reluctant heart-to-heart a couple of weeks ago, I still sense her watchful gaze wherever I go. I swear I could literally feel her eyes searing my skin when Aries and I were having a one-on-one conversation about a fantasy author we both love.
This vacation was supposed to be a fun getaway. Even better, it was supposed to be an opportunity to get closer to Noah’s family. To finally convince Victoria that Noah is the only man I have eyes for. But if anything, the hard-won progress I’ve made with Victoria is regressing.
Under the full moon and a smattering of stars in the vast cobalt sky, a cool breeze lashes through my jacket, and I yank up my hood. Even in July, nighttime lows in the mountains of Maine can drop into the forties.
In my hand, my phone vibrates with a text.
Hazel
I will admit that’s pretty bad and sounds like the worst vacation ever.
But at least you get to ride Noah’s face every night?
So far, that has indeed been the only positive outcome during this trip. And I have the same plans for tonight.
My thumbs hover over the screen, but before I can type back a response, a twig cracks behind me.
A tall shadow emerges from the precarious trek between the cabin and the wood line. Specifically, a six-foot-four shadow. My shadow. The man who became a stalker just to bring my fantasies to life.
I slip my phone in my jacket pocket and zip it shut. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.”
“And miss an opportunity to chase and fuck you in the woods?” he drawls, voice deliciously low and muffled. My thighs squeeze together at the mask covering his face. “Never.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” I taunt. “Because next time, I’m chasing you.”
“Can’t wait.” He’s practically giddy behind that mask.
Adrenaline shoots through me. How does every word that leaves this man’s mouth end up sounding so sultry? How does he turn my knees to jelly every damn time?
I’m weak for him, that’s how. But it’s okay because he gives me strength too.
“I hope no one saw me leave the house in this.” I gesture at my ridiculous outfit—a jacket with a pair of shorts. Easier to fuck Noah in shorts than jeans.
We’re prioritizing fuckability over sensibility tonight.
He’s in a hoodie and joggers, a much more practical outfit. My mouth goes dry. How does he look so good in everything? How does he look even better in nothing? The hoodie conceals the promise of a six-pack and chiseled biceps, while the joggers fail to conceal the bulge already waiting for me.
In the moonlight, the bullet casing hanging around his neck glints. I’m so glad the wound he suffered wasn’t more severe. Selfishly, I’m also glad he’s recovered enough to chase me and fuck me when he catches me.
“No one saw you,” he reassures me, taking another step toward me that makes my heart surge. “If I catch you, I—”
“You won’t,” I cut him off.
As soon as Noah lurches forward, I spin on my heel and take off into the woods, leaves and twigs crunching under my feet. He wore boots—better for protection and stability. But I wore sneakers—better for speed. In a few minutes, we’ll find out which of us chose right.
Of course, Noah is the only runner in this relationship, and I don’t think it will be sneakers that make me faster than him.
No, my only hope is that I get luckier than Noah and don’t trip over an errant root sticking out of the ground.
I weave between trees and dodge branches. I cringe at every snapping twig beneath my feet. Every sound leads him right to me.
Noah crashes into the woods behind me, cursing almost immediately after a resounding thud. “Fucking tree.”
Maybe running through the woods in the dark in a completely unfamiliar area wasn’t our smartest decision.
We probably should’ve done this at dusk or waited until dawn, though David might’ve spotted us through his binoculars.
Waiting until after Noah’s parents went to bed seemed like the best time to do this, a fun way to turn this vacation around, but now regret settles heavily in my stomach.
I blame Noah for my poor decision-making. Whenever he’s around, I lose brain function. He puts me in some kind of arousal-induced haze when he stalks toward me in a mask. Or when he murmurs in my ear. Hell, when he makes eye contact with me.
And when he cuddles with Prick, the eggs in my ovaries scream for impregnation. I swear the sight literally induces ovulation.
“You okay?” I call back to him. If he ran face-first into a tree, we could have a bloody nose or a concussion on our hands. That’ll be hard to explain to his family.
“Damn it, Summer, don’t ruin the fantasy!” he shouts, getting closer, but at a much slower pace. Taking his time navigating the woods to avoid another collision. “I’m a sexy, competent man skilled in the art of chasing a woman through the woods in the dark!”
“Right. That sounds just like you.” I take off again, weaving through the trees with far more ease than my pursuer.
But he’s trying, and there’s nothing sexier he could do than try something new to make me happy. I can’t remember the last time my cheeks hurt this much from smiling.
I make it about another twenty feet, lungs stinging and heaving for oxygen, before a thud hard enough to shake the forest floor echoes in the silent, still air. Followed shortly by a groan and a drawn-out “Shiiiit.”
Oh no. Noah has definitely broken a bone. Or he’s dying.
God, this was stupid. Why did we think we could reenact the sexiest scenes from my favorite books? My calves are on fire, lungs desperately dragging in air, and now I may need to perform first aid on my injured boyfriend. I lack the stamina for this, and Noah lacks the coordination.
I double back, his shouted curses guiding my path to him. “Noah? What happened?”
“I’m stuck,” he groans.
I jump at his voice mere feet from me. But I can’t spot a tall, looming figure anywhere.
“Shit,” I mutter, fumbling frantically for my phone and turning on the flashlight.
Noah shields his eyes against the sudden brightness, his mask gone. He’s on the ground nearby, his foot under part of a fallen tree.
“Oh my god!” I nearly drop my phone in my rush to get to him. “Are you hurt?”
He shakes his head. “No. But I can’t get my foot out. I think I managed to wedge it under there pretty good when I fell.”
“Should I . . .” I trail off. I don’t know what the hell to do in this situation. I can’t lift a damn tree off him. “Should I try to . . . pull you?”
“God, no.” His blue eyes go wide, and he waves me off before I can get any closer. “Nothing’s broken, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
I roll my eyes, but a smile crawls across my lips. “So you’re definitely not hurt?”
“Definitely not,” he reassures me, still eyeing me like I’ll try to yank him out of the trap any second.
“And you’re stuck?”
His head tilts in adorable confusion. “Summer, did you hit your head while you were running? Do I need to call someone to save both of us?”
“I’m fine.” I turn my flashlight off and slip my phone back into my pocket. “And you’re not calling anyone. Not yet.”
“What?”
I sink down onto his lap, finding evidence of the effect primal play has on him.
My panties stick to my skin, the space between my legs growing more damp from the friction of his hard length beneath me.
Dirt and pebbles dig into my knees, but I don’t care.
I don’t care about anything beyond getting Noah inside me.
His palms grip my bare thighs. “Is this one of those help-me-step-bro-I’m-stuck situations, but you’re the step-brother?”
“You catch on quick.” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep kiss, biting at his bottom lip before sucking the way he likes.
Between my legs, his cock twitches in his joggers. I grind against his erection, a moan escaping past my lips. Though we completely bungled the whole primal play kink, one thing is certain: we’re going to fuck each other’s brains out anyway.
When I pull back for air, he grins. “I like you on top of me.”
“I like being on top of you.” I tug at the bullet around his neck. “I like controlling your orgasm.”
He chuckles softly. “You think you’re in control of that? I’m barely in control of it.”