Page 23 of Hunting Harbor

I’m getting to her. I’m under her skin, in her veins. This slow move, the slow unravelling of her mind, the noises she makes as she blushes and tries to reign in her impulses. It’s all her. She thinks I’m the one causing this, but I’m simply reacting to the deep seated desire that flows through her. That’s likely pooled between her legs as we speak.

She drinks, gulps the whiskey like it’s a fucking life preserver. She’s unsteady, a little wild, so fucking perfect.

“My head is full of you. Or, maybe, uh, notyouyou, but the… the vibe, I guess? I don’t know. Like your whole like quiet, sexy, bad boy type of thing you got going on,” she says, the blush on her chest spreading over her cheeks. She doesn’t want to be telling me this, but the liquor has loosened her tongue.. The admission is whispered and choked, the only lie being that it’s supposed to be an inside thought.

I can barely hold myself back, but this is the build, the start of the rest of our lives together, and she’s taking every step, following where I lead. I pretend to be as startled as she wants me to be, and let the surprise write itself on my face.

She loves it. It makes her think she’s the one seducing me.

The talk comes faster now. She’s free-falling and pulling me with her. “I shouldn’t be telling astrangerthis,” she says, but we both know it’s bullshit. Harbor is trying to convince herself like she doesn’t know it’s me that’s been inside her. She knows, even if unconsciously. How could you not? I can still feel her on my skin. The way her hand is running up and down her arm, her nipples almost piercing through her shirt…

She knows.

It’s everything I need to hear. I push the conversation toward places she wants to go. Places I’ve already mapped out and explored with my imagination and patience.

“Mhmm.” I murmur, “Doesn’t sound like I’m a stranger.”

“I’ve had these… like dreams,” she says, hands moving like flustered birds, cheeks flaming as she runs out of steam. “About us. I think. I don’t know how to explain. I barely know you, but I feel like I do. About what we talked about. About...”

“Being hunted,” I finish for her, throwing her the line she wants, not the one she expects. “Being caught.”

It stuns her, and I take the moment in greedy handfuls. I push the next round of drinks toward her and wait for the inevitable.

“Maybe you should be writing this book,” she laughs, shakily. “Maybe you already are.”

It’s an accusation and an invitation. She’s ready. The hook is set, and I reel it in.

“It must be fate, then.” I offer a grin. Careful, perfect. The smile I know she’s seen in dreams. “How else do you explain this chance encounter?”

Her eyes are on fire. Her hands move in spastic little bursts. “Yeah, yeah, it must be…”

“Technically, it could becoincidence,” I say, filling the word with a hundred meanings. “But what if it’s not?”

I know she’s trying to solve the puzzle I’ve created, but she doesn’t know I’m the one who built it. That there is no fucking solution but this.

“Maybe,” I suggest, each word heavy and loaded, “you need a new environment. Someplace where you can think. I have a cabin. A quiet place in the woods where you can think, clear your head. You know, smell the flowers, watch the birds. The stars are todiefor.”

She doesn’t know whether to grab the offer or let it hang. She tries to play the hesitation game again, but she’s already made up her mind. She’s going to say yes.

The invitation hangs between us, bigger than the bar, bigger than the city. My mouth twitches with victory as a million thoughts flash on her face before her lips harden.

“Fuck it,” she says, eyes wider than I’ve ever seen. “Life can’t get much worse. What are you going to do to me that hasn’t already been done? Kill me?” She laughs like it’s a joke and I chuckle.

No, my beautiful girl, I won’t kill you.

But I am going to destroy you.

I raise my glass in a toast to the smartest, riskiest, most beautiful creature in the world.

“Friday it is.” I say, jotting down her details as she gives them to me, as if I don’t already have an entire room dedicated just to her.

Chapter Ten

Harbor

Kairo.That’swhathesaid his name was when he drove me home. Silly me. I didn’t even ask, not even when I agreed to spend a weekend at his cabin.

This giant question mark is affecting me in ways I couldn’t understand, and yet want to experience.

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