Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
I slip in front of her, and almost as if he can read my mind, Arson boxes in her backward retreat. “You’re not going anywhere. Please listen.”
Anger sparks in her blue eyes, and she shoves at my chest. I wince from the bruises already forming from Arson. “You do not get to tell me what to do after the shit you just pulled. I warned you...” A tear slips free as her voice breaks. “I warned both of you.”
I cup her cheek and pull her in tight. “Sweetheart. I’m sorry. We both are. We had to get that out of our systems, or we’d never be able to move forward. I promise we’re going to do better, for you, for us.”
She scoffs and swipes hard at her cheeks, leaving smears of dirt. “Right. Until the next time you get into a disagreement. Then I’ll be stuck in the middle all over again.”
Arson tugs her against his front, dropping a kiss to the side of her neck. “No. We won’t. We will fight, that’s a given. We have a lot of shit to sort through, and we’re brothers. I can’t promise you that we won’t have problems, but I can tell you that we’re done fighting against this, against what we both want. I love you. He loves you. On that we can agree.”
She lets out a long exhale, searching my face. “I want to believe you.”
I step into her, our bodies creating a cage we never want her to escape. “Let us prove it to you. Believe in us. Give us one more chance.”
She gulps hard, then lets her long lashes rest against her cheeks for a moment. When she finally opens her eyes again, her blue eyes shine, meeting mine. “Fine, but I’m not lying. I won’t be a doormat for either of you.”
I meet Arson’s eyes over her shoulder. “We don’t want you to be a doormat. In fact, we prefer you fierce and sassy.”
A soft snort leaves her pert lips. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do, and I have an idea. Arson probably knows this, but you don’t.”
“What’s that?”
“The Mill holds a traditional hunt every year. It’s like a glorified game of hide-and-seek. You get a small head start and get to use the woods to whatever advantage you can. Most of the time, a monetary value can be won, but you won’t be winning anything but an orgasm.”
“Or five,” Arson interjects.
Her eyes go wide, her pupils dilating until the blue is almost all gone. “So if you catch me then…”
I lean into her face and finish the sentence she can’t seem to speak out loud. “We get to do whatever we want with you…”
“Are you asking to chase me? Both of you? Together.”
“We sure are,” Arson replies, nipping at her earlobe.
I can’t help the feral grin that spreads across my face. “The way I see it, right now, Arson has had you more than me, and he took what I wanted for myself. I’m still a bit salty over it, so I’m going to claim the only virgin hole left, your ass.”
“That is, unless I catch you first,” Arson chimes in.
“Which isn’t going to happen,” I growl, my gaze cutting to him before skirting back to Lilian. “So…you run…and we’ll chase. Whoever captures you first gets the privilege.”
Her eyes narrow, and she licks her lips, her pulse fluttering hard in her neck. “And if neither of you catches me?”
I shrug. “Then you can have anything you want. You can have us any way you want.”
Another gulp, and I can visibly see the arousal growing, her fingers flexing. “When should I run?”
“How about now? We’ll give you a five-minute start,” I announce with a gentleness that doesn’t match the tension and need coursing through my veins.
She squeaks, throws Arson a grin, then rushes past me into the trees.
Arson crosses his arms over his chest. “Is this a good idea? Is it safe?”
“She’ll be fine. The only people out here are us. It won’t take long to find her, and I doubt she’ll put up a fight. She wants this just as bad as we do.”
“Naughty little minx.” Arson purses his lips, and I nod in agreement.
We both want her, and this time, when we have her, it’ll be together.
After five minutes, we wander into the trees to hunt our little rabbit.
Soon enough, I find myself breaking out into a run, the forest blurring around me as I search the area in front of me. My boots sink into the soft earth with each stride, my muscles burning as I push harder. There’s a primalness to the pursuit that strips away civilization, leaving raw instinct in its place. Hunter and hunted. The ancient dance that’s been encoded in our DNA for millions of years.
“Split up,” Arson calls, veering left. “Circle around.”