Page 29 of Ranger's Secret

This is exactly what I wanted.

I can hear him behind me, not too close but close enough to keep the thrill alive. I'm fast, but he's faster, and he knows these trails better than I do. It's only a matter of time before he catches me.

When he does, it's at a bend in the trail where the trees grow thick on either side. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me off the path and pressing me against the rough bark.

"Got you," he pants against my ear.

I take everything I have not to smile as his hands find the hem of my skirt, pushing it up around my waist. This is wrong and dangerous and absolutely perfect. Cool air hits my bare skin, the chill clashing with the heat between my legs.

I hear the scrape of his zipper, followed by the sharp flick of a pocket knife snapping open. My pulse spikes at the rush of what we planned, what I asked him to do.

The cold blade traces my inner thigh, skating dangerously close to my pussy. The steel grazes my skin, never cutting but promising everything.

“You stay still while I fuck you,” he commands, “and you won’t get hurt.”

The knife presses just a fraction harder, making my thighs quake, making me ache for him in ways I can’t untangle.

I turn my head further, curls falling over my face to mask the grin I can’t hold back. Why does this turn me on? With Jagger, it’s safe, exhilarating, like he’s cracked open some hidden part of me. I’ve never felt so free, so alive, letting him push limits I’d never dared to touch before.

His hand shifts, and I feel the thick, pierced tip of his cock brushing against my pussy. My hips twitch in response, dying to feel him inside me. The blade presses harder into my thigh, never breaking skin but so close, the sharp edge creating a delicious, aching need that makes my core clench.

“I’m going to fuck you now, kitten.”

I whimper, caught between the knife’s threat and the torment of his cock teasing me.

Then I hear it.

A scream from somewhere behind us. High-pitched and horrified.

"Get off of her!"

Oh, fuck. Oh, no.

Jagger pulls away immediately, his hands coming up as he spins toward the voice. I yank my skirt down and try to process what's happening.

Ms. Chen is standing on the trail, her face white with shock. Her eyes flick to the knife. She has her phone in her hand, already dialing.

"Get away from her! I'm calling the police," she shouts, her voice shaking.

"No!" I gasp, stepping forward. "Ms. Chen, wait!"

Jagger rips off the ski mask, his hair sticking up at odd angles. He quickly closes and pockets the knife. "Ms. Chen, I'm sorry. It's just us. Nothing is wrong."

She stares between us, taking in my disheveled appearance, his guilty expression, the mask in his hands.

I can see the exact moment she puts it all together.

8

JAGGER

The silence Ms. Chen leaves behind feels loaded. The kind that settles right before everything blows up, and I already know I’m at the center of the wreckage.

Delaney stares in the direction Ms. Chen stormed off, pale as bone. I can almost hear her dreams cracking apart, piece by piece.

"We need to go after her," I say, already moving. "Explain what happened."

"Explain what?" Delaney's voice is hollow. "That we were role-playing a twisted fantasy in the woods? That's going to make it better?"

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