Hunter & Prey

by Kira Barker

  He was only too happy to oblige me when I stroked his eager cock, feeling him twitch under my touch. I moaned softy, loving the power he gave to me, but halted when he made a move to finish what we’d started.

  “You should use a condom,” I reminded him, for the first time in a long, long time hating those very words.

  Darren’s eyes bore into me, and for a second I thought he would just ignore me, but then he inclined his head. I didn’t miss the small sigh he let out under his breath as he extracted himself from me and reached for his pants.

  As I watched him put it on, I couldn’t help the wave of resentment that came up inside of me. For someone in my line of work, it was foolishness not to insist on protection, but if not for earlier, I would have shot caution into the wind.

  Damn Brigitte. And damn Ray Moss!

  Tears shot into my eyes and I felt my lower lip tremble, making me look away before Darren could see either. And because that didn’t help, I flipped over onto my stomach, trying to hide the misery I knew much be painted onto my face.

  The couch cushions dipped slightly under his weight as Darren joined me, but instead of going straight for the kill as I’d hoped, he planted soft kisses all over my shoulder and upper back, then reached down so he could pull me up into a kneeling position, his arms coming around my chest and embracing me.

  A shudder went through me, then another, and the soft, cooing noises he made just added fuel to the flames.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” I whispered, my voice now hoarse with grief. “You deserve something better. Someone who’s whole. Not someone like me.”

  His arms tightened around me, and while I could feel his hard cock pressing against my lower back, there was nothing sexual to his touch.

  “I don’t fucking care,” he growled into my ear. “You are everything I want.”

  The tears threatened to spill over but I blinked them away, letting his warmth and strength hold me up and put me back together.

  “You don’t care? That a man you pretty much despise bent me over and fucked me? Touched me where you touched me before?”

  I felt him stiffen, and for a moment I hoped that my words would cut through his mask of chivalry and hit him where I knew few other things could penetrate. Then it would be easy for him to just take what he wanted, reclaim me, make me his, completely ignoring what I had to say about that. I knew it would be over soon, and while painful, it would serve a cathartic effect.

  And much more important, it would help me set the jumble of thoughts and emotions inside of me straight, because if he chose to simply use me like any other man had ever used me, he would fall back into their ranks and I could go on living the life I’d built for myself, with not much of a care in the world.

  I could almost feel him considering that option; I knew him well enough to realize that he wasn’t cruel, but underneath that layer of civility he had been displaying all night long, a beast lurked that wanted to claim, possess, and erase the marks anyone else had left on me before. Physically, I was no match for him, and while I wouldn’t enjoy it as much as any other day, it wouldn’t get worse than what had happened with Ray.

  Yet instead of flinging me down and taking me hard and fast, he pressed his lips against the side of my neck and kissed me, slow and tender. Then his embrace loosened around me so he could run his fingers up and down my arms, stroking my breasts on each pass. I let myself relax and lean into him, and didn’t protest when he shifted us both so that he could push my shoulders toward the backrest of the couch. The leather was fragrant under my nose as I inhaled, and soft to the touch as I rested my cheek there.

  His body settled behind and around me, one hand joining mine on the backrest, the other easing between my thighs from the front, his fingers playing idly with my clit until I jerked my hips back sharply, silently demanding more. I could feel his breath fan warmly across my shoulder and cheek, and instead of going on, he just ran a single finger between my labia to gather some of the wetness seeping out of me so he could better work me into a frenzy.

  “I need to know what he did to you,” he told me, a low, intimate murmur that shouldn’t have been so damn sexy.

  I tried to buck my hips against his to make him skip that step, but he didn’t relent, his fingers finding mine, squeezing softly.

  “Please?” he asked, then kissed the shell of my ear, so very distractingly.

  “Why?”

  My voice was breathy, no longer heavy with tears, but laden with resentment.

  “So I can make it better.”

  His touch got more insistent, enough to drive me wild, but still shy of wild enough.

  “I just want to forget about it. I can tell you how you can help me with that,” I suggested, trying for levity, but failing utterly.

  “You know that I can keep this up all night long?” he teased, but squeezed my fingers. “Pretty please? With a red, wet, pulsing cherry on top?”

  Despite of myself, that made me laugh, but instead of breaking the moment, it just helped draw the residual tension that had nothing whatsoever to do with his physical stimulation right now.

  “Okay,” I more breathed then said, resigning myself to my fate. “I don’t care about the name calling, or the rough stuff. I don’t give a shit about having had to kneel in front of him and sucking him off. But that he thought the fact that just because he paid me he could violate me in stark disregard of my physical health, that bothers me. I deserve more respect than that.”

  Darren didn’t still, keeping up the circling motion, but I felt muscles all over his body lock.

  “What exactly—“

  “Anal, not enough lube. And because his cock wouldn’t have hurt me enough, he used one of my toys.” Exhaling slowly, I stared at the floor beyond the couch, then gave a wry chuckle. “That’s the part that keeps me flinching and wincing then I sit. But what bothers me is that he felt the need to smear it with his cum first and shove it back into me. And that’s why you need a condom right now.”

  Part of what I’d said clearly surprised him—if I had to guess, the latter.

  “Are you really concerned that he could have infected you with something? Because I’m pretty sure he’s faithful to Alison otherwise, and she always forces him to take repeat tests after his little escapades.”

  Not enough that Darren knew, no—apparently so did Alison. Just what had I gotten myself into?

  “Rationally speaking? No, I’m sure Brigitte only gave him the green light if he could provide a test less than a week old. But it is the thought that counts. His utter disregard for my health, or my hard limits.”

  Instead of answering me right away, his lips sought out the sensitive spot at the side of my neck, making it hard for me to keep concentrating on anything other than the wonderful sensations he was creating. And with my body already on autopilot, I wondered why I even bothered.

  “I can’t undo that. But I can try to lessen your physical discomfort,” he offered.

  It wasn’t like I hadn’t kind of expected that, considering how he’d turned me facing away from him, but it was still a little disappointing. Not the offer, but the drive I could clearly tell was underneath it. So he would not claim me with force, but claim me he still needed to.

  I was already here, and the residual guilt of not leaving him satisfied the last time still churned in my stomach. I might as well make that up to him now.

  “You can try,” I offered, a little cautious. “I can’t promise you I’ll react as I normally would.”

  “I will never hurt you deliberately,” he whispered, kissing my shoulder some more before he reached for a bottle of lube.

  Why he’d had that ready at hand, I pointedly ignored.

  I tensed at the first, tentative contact of his finger on my anus, but the sensation wasn’t too bad. I could tell that he’d chosen a more viscous lubricant that might need more work to apply, but would also stay as a thick coat wherever it landed. Closing my eyes, I made myself relax, telling myself that
if there was anyone out there I felt like I could yield to tonight, it was him.

  There was discomfort, I won’t lie, and some pain, but he took as much time as needed, and then some. I would have preferred it if he simply hadn’t, but I didn’t protest when, eventually, he lined up his cock with my rosette and started inching himself into me. All the while he still held my hand, even when I squeezed as hard as I could. But he didn’t stop.

  I let out a low, shaky breath when I felt his crotch hit my ass, our bodies now flush from my shoulders down, even our legs touching. I could feel his chest heave behind me, tension and need making him tremble, but he didn’t move a muscle.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  I shook my head, but was still afraid to move otherwise.

  “No.”

  “Just relax,” he murmured and reached for my clit, the lubricant still on his fingers a nice addition.

  Need, barely kept at bay before by trepidation, took flight again, making me bow my back, and in so doing, let me shift my hips just a little. I felt him slide out, then back in, my hyperactive nerves adding an extra zing to the sensation. It wasn’t all pleasure but my body didn’t seem to care, and I’d long ago learned to shut off my mind.

  “Do it!” I hissed between clenched teeth, then forced my jaws to unlock. “Please, just do it.”

  And he did, helping me exorcize my own demons the only way he could.

  A small eternity later, we found ourselves huddled together, sweaty limbs entwined, on the thick carpet before the fireplace. My body ached, but my mind was quiet, and I felt something I hadn’t expected in quite some time: I felt content.

  I stretched, groaning as muscles protested, which made Darren chuckle in return.

  “I love the sounds I can draw from you,” he remarked.

  “That was less for your benefit, but simply old age,” I snarked back, but with a smile.

  “Nonsense,” he replied, then stole another kiss.

  I settled back against him, luxuriating in the warmth of his body, but now that we had both caught our breath again, he seemed chatty enough.

  “I don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself,” he said, almost too low for me to understand, his finger drawing idle designs across my stomach.

  “Do what?”

  My tone was emotionless, almost cold now as my mind leaped ahead, expecting what he would say next.

  “Sell your body and soul for money.”

  At least he was nice enough to phrase it neutrally.

  “My soul’s not for sale,” I pointed out, feeling the hollow in my stomach expand.

  “You couldn’t be as good at your job as you are if you didn’t put everything you are into it.”

  I mulled that over for a second but didn’t like where this was going.

  “If I wasn’t doing that, I wouldn’t be here now.”

  It was challenge that I put into my gaze as I met his, expecting a joking remark in return, but the flash of pain I saw in his eyes instead took me aback.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I quickly amended, ready to punch myself in the head. “We wouldn’t have met if I wasn’t a—“

  A finger softly touching my lips stalled me.

  “I know how you meant it. And I guess I needed that reminder, too.”

  He smiled at me softly, but I saw him withdraw from me further, and after a moment he followed the sentiment with his body, letting go. I remained on my side, gazing up at him as he padded away on silent, bare feet, admiring what the soft light did to the muscles of his back, and particularly his ass.

  “Darren?”

  He paused as he bent over the coffee table and smiled at me. Then he picked up an all too familiar looking envelope, which made me bolt to my feet faster than I thought my languid muscles could accomplish.

  “I don’t want your money!”

  There should have been more indignation in my voice, but I was too drained to fake it; yet after my verbal faux-pas, I felt obliged to put some conviction behind my protest.

  He looked down at the cream-colored paper in his hand, but still held it out to me.

  “You should take this.”

  “But—“

  “I won’t take no for an answer,” he reminded me, but softened it with a teasing smile. “If you don’t want to take that as payment, pretend it’s me being really uncreative about getting you something nice for yourself. Shoes, clothes, a new lamp for your bedroom, whatever strikes your fancy. If you never give Brigitte her cut, it’s not payment. And if you won’t tell her, she’ll never know.”

  I stared at the envelope for another moment, but then took it, though reluctantly. Even if the slight weight seemed to burn a hole into my hand, it also swept a blanket of security over my frayed nerves, and as I studied his face, I thought I saw a similar emotion flit across his features.

  If he still paid me, he was still my client—nothing more, nothing less. Everything that happened between us could be just pretense, a well-acted scenario of wish-fulfillment. Easy, safe, nothing to be concerned about.

  But as I bent over and put the money away into my bag, we both knew that things had gotten a hell of a lot more complicated.

  Chapter 13

  I ended up giving Brigitte her cut. And not just that, but the entire sum, including tip, that Moss had left with me. After my evening with Darren, my initial idea of simply splurging on something with it had lost all appeal. I had earned every fucking cent of it but felt a lot better the moment it was out of my hands.

  That was Friday, over lunch at Brigitte’s, in her kitchen, that I was treated to as a surprise. I’d fully expected her to seat me in her living room where all business was conducted, hoping that after the mandatory tongue-lashing she would let me move on, and maybe reveal what had crawled up her ass and died there and made her let near-random guys tear up mine.

  Instead, she led me into the kitchen, the warm, homey oasis beside the representative, styled rest of the apartment. It had taken me two years in the beginning for her to warm up enough to me to invite me there the first time, and I’d known several girls over the years who never made it there. Coming so soon after last Friday, it was a white flag if ever I’d seen one.

  Brigitte joined me after putting the envelope I handed her away, her face blank, eyes neutral. She had a dish of spaghetti ready, and we idly chatted about inconsequential things while we made our way through it. She seldom used small talk, and never in these sacred halls; that she did so now was evidence enough for me that something was up.

  Before I got to weasel it out of her, she dropped the bomb I’d hoped we could avoid, at least until another day. Sometimes, Brigitte was too good at her job.

  “Care to tell me why I got a call from a certain almost-celebrity lawyer this morning, pretty much tearing me a new one when he confirmed your standing appointment for weekends on the grounds of being dissatisfied with how I handle my girls?”

  I wondered if I should have held on to the fork, but did my best to deflect her glare with a cool gaze of my own.

  “If you ask me, considering how much he shells out to fuck me, he has the right to expect me to be in a condition fit to get fucked however he wants to fuck me.”

  That could have been phrased more subtly, but I didn’t see the point of it. She must have had a reason for bringing that call up, or else she would have taken it in stride and ignored it.

  Her eyes narrowed at me, clearly reading more into my answer than I knew I had put into it. “So you tattled.” Meaning I broke another one of her golden rules.

  I shook my head, crossing my legs so I could lace my fingers over my knee, keeping them steady.

  “I didn’t need to. There seems to have been some kind of repeat performance element to the story, and from up-close inspection, it wasn’t hard for him to fill in the blanks.”

  A lie, but I’d be damned if I let her knot my noose from this.

  “That means you went over to him last weekend after all.”


  “Never said I didn’t,” I pointed out.

  “You called me, telling me you were off the clock until further notice.”

  Sighing, I fought the impulse to nervously pick on my hose. She would have noticed, and I didn’t want to give her any indication that I was nervous. After all, I had no reason to be.

  “And after that he called me. I explained why I refused him at first, he insisted, so I went. You can’t expect me to be stupid enough not to try to make amends after the lesson you taught me.”

  “What lesson would that be?” she queried, her eyes narrowing slightly.

  “Whatever lesson it needed to be,” I replied cooly. “The way I see it, the whole affair is dealt with. You have the money, I got the client back, and judging from what you just said, he wants to keep seeing me. Everyone should be satisfied.”

  I normally wasn’t that snippy with her, but the entire affair still had me on edge, and I wouldn’t have reacted any differently if Darren and I hadn’t had our moment.

  Brigitte leaned back in her chair and eyed me intently, then barked a short laugh.

  “You really think you can play me, Penelope? I’ve been deceiving people while you were still crapping your diapers. Don’t even bother playing coy.”

  Fact was, I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that, but it didn’t matter.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She gave a brief snort in return, a deliciously wry sound I wished my voice was capable of.

  “You know that there’s really only one golden rule for people like us?”

  “You taught me at least ten,” I replied.

  “Stop bullshitting me. Rule number one, and the only one you can never break: you don’t fall in love with a client.”