Page 154 of Scorned Beauty
Moving deeper into the forest, I felt better about not being lost. The lights of the cabin shined like a beacon through the soon-to-be-winter foliage. I should have known Dom wouldn’t risk anything that would endanger me.
A rustling of leaves had me spinning around and my heart clogged my throat in renewed fear. Not that I feared squirrels, but surely he had no control over other wild creatures. The negligible light of the new moon filtered through the ghostly branches and I tried to think of birds besides owls that hunted at night. I liked owls. Right?
Skittering near the trees had me spinning around again.
I almost called out Dom’s name.
But that would defeat the purpose of?—
What was that?
A shadow ghosted through the trees. That was too big to be a man, right?
Shit. Were there legends of Bigfoot in Georgia?
Soon, all I heard was labored breathing. Mine.
Run.
That was what Dom ordered as he leaned over the balcony of the log cabin when I was on the patio that led to the orchard. He was shirtless, his broad shoulders and muscled pecs on display, wearing black jeans that made him so lickable and sexy, I wanted to call the whole thing off and fuck right there.
But delicious orgasms awaited good girls who ran.
My feet picked up the pace. The jacket was trapping the heat in my body. My senses became hyper-aware. Excited, I shed the outer layer, surrendering to the freedom of the night. The area between my thighs felt swollen, and my nipples were hard and sensitive against the bra.
The cabin lights were getting fainter, and the forest was losing light.
I stumbled over a jutting piece of tree root, but didn’t fall.
I straightened and paused.
In front of me stood Dom.
Or I hoped it was Dom.
The man was wearing a mask similar to the ones medieval executioners wore. It covered his entire head and neck.
My heart rate quickened.
Danger. Fear. Arousal.
Without another word, I sprinted to my right.
The crashing behind me let me know he was chasing me, getting closer. Shit. Shit. My heart pounded. Oxygen depleted. When I reached a small circular clearing, I struggled in which direction to go, but before I could take another step, he tackled me from behind.
We fell, and I tensed for impact, but he switched our positions and took the brunt of the fall.
Still, air left my lungs and my whole body lit up in fight-or-flight. To giggle or scream.
I jabbed my elbow behind me.
He grunted and flipped me over, my wrists pinned above me.How the hell does he do that?
“Gotcha,” he rasped.
“Fuck you.”
“Soon.”
