Primed to Hunt (Sins and Secrets Club #6)

1 Kimber

“There. Right there!”

His lips ghost over my skin, and I’m mumbling words that don’t make sense even to me. Is it still a dream, or did I slip into reality?

Fingers press to my pussy, making me rock against the hand searching for more friction. I can’t open my eyes, and I don’t want to either. I want this euphoria to continue on in all the best ways.

Then his tongue presses against my clit, sucking it between his teeth, and I whimper. My lips are heavy, the liquor from before doing its job, and as he stretches me with a finger and teases my clit I try to seek more.

He won’t lift his head, and I can’t see his face. My fingers pull through light blond, then dark, then reddish hair. That can’t be right can it? Hair’s all one color.

I squirm, trying to see more. Is he my fantasy or my nightmare? I’m getting confused, and the lust edges away as I can’t make out what’s happening.

Then he lifts his face, and it’s not who I want to see. There’s blood all over his neck, and it’s not mine. It’s his. I already know it is -

I bolt awake at the sound of slamming, reaching for my nightstand. My skin’s slicked in sweat, and before I even turn on the light my fingers are closing around the handle of my gun.

Breathe. Just breathe. Look before you shoot.

Turning the light on is a secondary thought, but I’ve learned what happens when you fire into the dark. My eyes squint as they try and adjust, twisting in bed while I grip the gun but keep my fingers off the safety.

At the end of my bed is Brutus, my black and white kitty. He stares at me, those judgmental eyes seeming to mock me in the night. He cocks his head before stretching out on the end of my bed, and my shoulders sag.

I should’ve gotten a dog. Maybe the pup would protect me, but Brutus is old faithful.

If he hadn’t been so damn bug and frightening I like to think Brutus would turn his bad mood on my attacker and scratch his eyes out.

As it was, I worried for Brutus’ safety at the time, so I’m happy he hid.

Groaning, I push the gun away, my hands shaking, and turn to kick my legs over the edge of the bed.

This is why I want the dreams to suck me under and never let up. When I’m sleeping, I’m free. Every waking moment is plagued by paranoia and guilt, but that doesn’t always translate into my dreams. When I dream, it’s all fantasy.

Like the dream I was just in the middle of would be fan-fucking-tastic to finish if someone didn’t slide into my memories and ruin it. I’ve had enough partners to identify who makes my body ache with need, and I know who I want to play with in my sleep.

It’s certainly not the man who stole my dream. He betrayed my trust and I guess, in a way, I betrayed him. I never should’ve opened up to him, or anyone, about my kinks. That’s where this whole mess started.

Somnophilia. It was a risk thinking he wouldn’t take advantage, and I miscalculated. Now I think I’m better off just not opening up to anyone ever again.

Sighing, I head towards the kitchen. I won’t sleep anymore so I may as well give into my addiction and have a drink. Brutus follows me, meowing pitifully, and I imagine he wants a snack. Peering at the clock on the stove, I see it’s just past four in the morning.

A shiver works its way up my spine. My nights are scattered at best because I can't relax. It’s like my body subconsciously remembers the time of night and forces me awake even when I’m bone tired.

Life’s cruel that way.

Brutus purrs when I give him a little dollop of whip cream in his bowl, because he might be rudely waking me up but he’s still my baby. I toss the can back into the fridge before moving on to the bottle on the counter and my glass, my hand shaking when I pour the drink straight.

The alcohol burns sliding down my throat. I should have warm milk or maybe a sleeping pill to get through the night, but alcohol does the trick. It rolls down my throat and makes my empty stomach groan in protest, but slowly the tremble in my hands stops as I take a second then a third gulp.

Leaning against the counter, I spy Brutus again. He’s sitting there watching me, licking his lips. “Don’t judge me. You have addictions too. You’re going to get fat snacking like that.”

Of course he doesn’t respond, and when I take a fourth sip and nearly clear the glass, my body unwinds. The alcohol cuts through my nerves, creating a nice little haze, and I roll my neck and lean further into the counter.

I’m not afraid of the ghost in my every waking moment. The gun is more of a comfort than anything, because he’s not coming for me ever again. I made sure of that. But when I close my eyes, my nightmares are confused.

“Think we’ll ever find a man who doesn’t try to kill us, Brutus?

” I grumble, and my cat just stares back at me.

I'm not sure why I even ask the question.

I've tried dating, or just hooking up at the club, and so far it hasn't panned out. Anyone I used to be interested in already hooked up with someone else and found happiness, and even with new members joining all the time I’m starting to feel like I’ve missed my chance.

I could look outside of Sins and Secrets, but then I have to deal with the whole kinks dilemma.

Pushing the glass away, I head to the living space to watch TV. Bed calls to me, but until the alcohol soothes me I won’t be sleeping.

Maybe I can dream again. And in place of the monster, I could get lucky and see Rich buried between my legs instead. That’s who I want to dream about. He didn’t know it, but he’s at the top of my list. I’d love to know what kind of things that man is into.

~~~

I only have to get through the workday and then I can freely walk around Sins, other clubs, or really anywhere else that isn’t my job. After last night, I need something to mentally turn off my mind again.

“Miss,” a guy says, leaning on the counter at work and tapping the top for the third time. He’s been walking around the store with his friends for the last twenty minutes, and they are the only customers still in here at the moment.

“Are you sure you don’t have any more options?

” the second guy interrupts, and the third lingers a few steps behind them.

They are all barely legal, eighteen year olds who have been here way too long messing up all the displays.

If they leave before the owner Bobby gets here I’m going to have even more work to do. “I could make you feel so good.”

I blow out a breath, silently cursing my boss.

Just because I can manage the store alone doesn’t mean I like to, and honestly, being here by myself should be more of a safety concern.

There should really be two people on shift, especially with some of the creeps who casually walk in here making all the sex jokes they can think of, but my boss seems to think I’m more than capable of handling myself.

Capable like a killer.

“Listen kid,” I say, almost wishing there were more customers here.

It usually keeps the fresh meat from hitting on me like this.

“You don’t have a chance. Try again with someone who didn’t just look at your ID.

Plenty of girls graduating high school are right in your ballpark.

Maybe leave and go find one of them to hit on. ”

He clears his throat, deepening his voice like it’ll make a difference at this point. “Listen, Miss, you said there’s a theater-”

“For a price,” I say, wrinkling my nose.

My boss's idea to include a theater here at a porn store should probably come with an HIV test. I refuse to clean those viewing rooms, so a cleaning team comes through daily but I think they do a piss poor job. Sins and Secrets set the standard for cleanliness for me, and that’s not changing anytime soon.

“If you want to go watch porn with your friends just pay up. I, an employee, will not be coming into the back with any of you for any reason.”

My disinterest finally gets the kids to turn back to the shop, and I groan and resist the urge to set my head down. Without the three of them looking at me I let my shoulders drop, grasping the counter out of their view.

Everything about this job that’s wrong is made ten times worse in comparison to S&S.

It’s an exclusive, members-only place, and I don’t feel like someone’s going to drug and hurt me the second I turn my back.

That place is loaded with security, and the people who pay to be there don’t want to risk having their membership terminated for causing issues.

The owners didn’t fight me when I said I wanted my nametag to read Kimber, unlike my boss here.

One of the owners of the club, Jo, asked me to pick something I would remember and re-confirmed my choice.

I’ve been going by Kimber there for over five years now.

I’m not entirely sure most of the people are even aware that Kimber isn’t my first name.

S&S… Sins and Secrets, it's my favorite place. Lately however it’s started to feel like a chore.

I don’t know how to be myself there, seeking to please whoever pays attention to me, and most of the time it seems like I’m no one’s cup of tea.

I’ve made some of the members mad with my choices in the past, and it’s more of a personal preference thing than a violation of the club rules.

Dragging my teeth over my bottom lip, I tell myself to not overthink but it doesn’t work.

There’s a subtle shake to my hands that I’d love to stop, and I dig my teeth further into my lip to keep from letting myself get overwhelmed.

My eyes track the three boys as they move, trying to keep my focus on where I am instead of spiraling like I always do.