I grab his hand, forcing his fingers to interlace with mine so I can squeeze hard. “I love you, Jared.”
“And I love you, Harper. More than you can possibly understand,” he whispers, leaning his forehead down to mine as he squeezes my hand back, and for some reason I feel like crying. His tone almost sounds pleading when he speaks again. “Please go back inside.”
“Okay.” I nod, stepping back to release him, and I’m relieved to see my Jared. The man who makes me laugh and smile and feel so incredibly loved every single day. “I’ll come check on you after I make something to eat, okay?”
“No need, babe.” Lifting the axe again, he gestures toward the cabin. “Go on inside, I’ll be in when I’m done out here.”
“Don’t be long, okay?” I try another smile, but I don’t think he sees it as he positions another log on the block. When I turn around to go inside, I hear the heavy thwack of the axe, and I’m not sure if this is an improvement over yesterday or not.
I didn’t make breakfast, or lunch, which feels kind of petty, but I’m definitely feeling petty right now. Jared made such a big deal about this weekend, about how we were going to have so much fun, how we were going to go somewhere really special, and every minute has been more miserable than the last. I can still hear the random swings of the axe, which means he’s still avoiding me by cutting up firewood that neither of us need — but I tried. I tried to get him to come inside, I tried to be a good girlfriend, and whatever weird shit is going on in his head right now… he’s obviously not interested in letting me in.
Shoving the spoon back into my yogurt, I continue wandering the cabin, but Jared had been right that there wasn’t much to it. The only rooms with anything interesting are the living room with its random collection of DVDs, and the large bedroom where a narrow, built-in bookshelf is stocked with books on animals and plants and others with no titles at all. Grabbing one of the canvas-backed ones with no title, I drop onto the bed and open it to a random page.
The handwriting throws me at first, but I quickly realize it’s not a fancy book… it’s a journal. His dad’s journal, if I’m understanding the notes correctly.
November 3, 2013 — Took Jared and Oliver hunting SE toward creek. Found nesting area near tall oak and bird beak rock outcropping. Got a buck near the old beaver dam.
I can’t find a signature or anything, but based on what Jared has told me, his grandfather never brought them out here. Just his dad.
Flipping through the pages, I find a ton of little descriptions where Jared’s dad was teaching them about tracking, about the woods and the land, or making notes on where they hunted, but I stop on a page where I see a note unrelated to hunting or deer or the landscape. It’s tucked under a note from 2015 where both Jared and his brother had been out with their dad, but his father only mentions one of them.
I need to talk to Jared about the rules of the land. Have to do it before he comes out on his own.
He was sixteen when his father made that note, and while I’m curious about the first time his dad let him come out here on his own to hunt… I’m way more interested in the reference to the ‘rules.’ I quickly flip through the last of the book, and then I set it aside and look for older journals. Grabbing a worn, leather-bound copy, I open it to the middle and find a reference to the year 1992.
January 9, 1992 — Charlie and I walked the northern border today, found two nests from overnight near the grove of ash with the open meadow and the circle stone. We will focus on a buck in the morning.
Charles Loxley is Jared’s dad, and it feels a little eerie to be reading about the man as a kid. I’m not even sure how old he was in 1992, but I know it was before Jared or I were born. Flipping through the journal more carefully, I skim the slanted cursive, trying to find anything that doesn’t reference hunting or the property itself. I end up pulling the next leather-bound volume out of the library just to continue skimming, and when I hit 1994 I finally find something that eerily echoes the note Jared’s dad made.
Charlie has a girl in his life, and I explained the Loxley rules to him. He understands the consequences now.
Leaning back against the bookshelf, I feel overwhelmed by the sheer number of volumes on the shelves. There are more without titles than I originally noticed, and the ones on the very bottom look almost too old to handle. The last thing I’d want to do is damage Jared’s family’s property, but the strange vaguebooking isn’t helping. Sighing, I skim through the end of that journal without finding another reference to any kind of rules or ‘consequences’ and so I pick another. I’m only a little way into the next journal when the light shifts and I look up to find Jared in the doorway.
“What are you doing, Harper?”
6
Harper
Panic grabs hold of my lungs and refuses to let go, which leaves me without much to say in response as Jared slowly walks closer.
“Get up.”
“I was just looking at the books, trying to find something to read, but these are journals. Did you know these are journals?” I’m rambling now, holding out the leather-bound book as some kind of explanation, but when Jared gets to me, he just smacks it out of my hand.
“Did I say you could look through my family’s things?” He asks the question so softly, but there’s anger underneath the words and for the first time in my life I’m actually a little scared of him.
“I’m sorry, Jared. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to touch them, you didn’t say anything about— OW!” I flinch when he suddenly grabs my hair, craning my head back as pinpricks of pain skitter across my scalp. “You’re hurting me.”
“Am I?” He tilts his head, his face filling my vision as he leans close, but he still doesn’t let me go.
“You’re scaring me, Jared,” I whisper, staring into his green eyes that seem too… flat. Too empty.
“Which is it, Harper? Am I hurting you? Scaring you? Keeping you up at night? What complaint do you have about me now?” Jared lets go of my hair, but he quickly captures my face. Hands firmly planted on either side of my head so I still can’t move away, trapped on my knees with his face inches from mine.
“Please stop.” The words are barely audible because I’m pretty sure I’m about to cry, but then he kisses me. It’s powerful, commanding, and my head swims when he yanks me off the floor by my arm and drags me toward the bed.
“You want me to stop? Stop what? Loving you?” Jared lets out a rough laugh that sounds nothing like him as he slowly shakes his head. “I don’t think I can do that, Harper.”
“No! I love you, Jared, I do. I’m just worried about you!”
“You love me?” he asks, head canted to the side.
“Of course I do.”
“Say it again,” he commands, voice low, and I nod as he strokes his thumb over my cheek.
“I love you, Jared. I love you so much, I just—” My words are cut off when he shoves me back onto the bed, his hands on the button of my jeans before I even realize what’s happening. Grabbing his hands, I try to stop him, but he gets my zipper down anyway. “Jared, stop! Would you just talk to me?”
“You keep trying to push me away,” he mumbles, knocking my hands away so he can rip my jeans down, catching my underwear on the next tug. I try to twist away from him, and I manage to land a kick on his hip, but he growls at me like he did in his sleep — and it doesn’t matter anyway. He tosses my clothes away and grabs my legs to drag me back toward him across the bed.
“JARED!” I scream his name, trying to snap him out of whatever the fuck this is, but then he’s on top of me, kissing me, muffling my words with his lips as he spreads my legs with his. When I turn my head, breaking the kiss, he just trails them down my neck, finding that place near my collarbone that sends a thrill rushing through my blood even though all I want is for him to be normal again. To be him again. “Please, Jared, just listen to me.”
“You say you love me, but I’m never good enough for you. That’s the real problem
, isn’t it?” he whispers against my skin, grinding between my thighs, and I can feel his erection through the rough fabric of his jeans as I shake my head. “Is that what you were looking for in the journals? A reason to leave me?”
“No! I don’t want to—” I’m cut off by Jared’s hand covering my mouth, and all I can do is whine as his fingers dig into my cheek.
“No more lying.” Jared shakes his head, his eyes wild as he stares down at me. “I can’t let you leave me, Harper. I won’t. You’re mine.”
I need him to listen to me, to really listen so that he’ll stop acting like this, but it’s useless when I try to pull his hand away from my face. He’s bigger than me, stronger, and I can feel his sweat soaking through my shirt as he presses me into the bed so he can work at his jeans.
“Show me. Show me you love me, Harper,” he whispers, and all I can do is shout against his palm as I shove at his ribs, trying to get him off me, but too quickly he shifts and I feel his other hand between my legs. He pushes two fingers inside, and I whimper because I’m not wet enough for this. “I thought you loved me,” he growls. “Did you lie? Do you always lie?”
NO! I try to scream it, but it just comes out as a broken vowel sound beneath the muffling effect of his hand, and then I feel his thumb on my clit. I try to shake my head, but he just holds me still, forcing me to take the dull thrums of pleasure each swirl of his thumb brings.
“Come on, I know you like this. You always want me inside you, and I’m not going to make you wait this time. I’m going to make sure you remember you’re mine.” There’s something off in his voice, and when he takes his fingers away, I feel his cock press against me.
His bare cock. Oh God. He doesn’t have a fucking condom on!
I try harder to knock him off, twisting my hips to keep him from thrusting inside me, but he braces his arm across my chest and pins me down just before he pushes in. I’m not ready, and the twinge of pain between my thighs freezes me in place as he groans.
“Yessss… take it.” Jared rocks his hips, forcing himself deeper, and tears burn the edges of my eyes as I dig my nails into his sides. With his forearm across my chest, so close to my throat, I can’t do anything. I can’t even beg him to slow down, to wait for my body to adjust. He knows how thick he is and how much it can hurt, and he’s always been so fucking careful with me — but he’s not my Jared right now.
There’s something wrong with him. Something very wrong. His knees push against my legs, spreading me wider, and when I cry out on the next hard thrust, he shushes me.
“I’m almost in. Almost. You can take it.” He grunts and pain ricochets through me as his skin finally meets mine. All I can do is whine as he lets out a long, low moan and slides back to thrust again. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
It doesn’t feel good! I want to scream at him, to make him realize what he’s doing because this hurts more than it usually does. He always stretches me, but he makes sure I’m wet first. Soaking and needy and ready, but I wasn’t ready for this. Definitely not ready for him to pick up the pace already, driving in harder, our bodies clapping together with each powerful slam of his hips.
“Mine. All mine,” he whispers against my ear, and I whimper because there’s still an ache between my thighs… but my body is responding. I’m getting wet, adjusting to his size, and even though I still want to slap him for this, I can feel pleasure weaving its way into the complicated whirl of emotions in my head. I’m angry, hurt, worried about him, worried about me, but he knows just how to move to hit that place inside me that sends a buzz rushing under my skin.
When he finally takes his hand off my mouth, I pull in a gasp of air, filling my lungs for the first time in what feels like hours, but before I can shout at him, he kisses me. It’s aggressive, a dominating claim of my mouth, and I lose myself in the nipping bites and sweeps of his tongue. A moment later he shifts his arm off my chest, and even though I know I should stop this — I can’t.
With him kissing me, this almost feels normal. More raw, more primal than any other time we’ve ever been in bed together, but I can’t deny the blur of pleasure humming in my blood now. I’m inching toward an orgasm, stoked by each rough drive of his hips, each seductive nip of his teeth on my skin. When he moves my hands beside me and interlaces our fingers, pinning them down, I don’t even fight him. I just rock my hips to meet the next hard thrust, the dull ache blending seamlessly with the incredible friction of him moving inside me.
“Harper…” he whispers as he kisses down my neck, seeking that spot that has me moaning and urging him on with another flick of my hips.
He’s never been this rough, this controlling in bed, but I’ve also never been this close to an orgasm this fast. Not without him teasing me, licking me until I feel like I’m going to explode. It’s some strange, primal response, something I can’t control or logic myself through while he’s fucking me like this. Hard, dominating. Possessive.
“Mine,” he groans, biting down on my shoulder as he starts to thrust faster, letting go of one of my hands to grab my leg, bending my knee toward my chest so he can go deeper on the next drive of his hips. The low growl in his chest vibrates through my own, and I know he’s close, but I’m not far behind and—
FUCK.
“Jared! Jared, stop!” I try to pull my hand free, but he tightens his grip on it and on my leg, pressing me harder into the bed as he nips at my shoulder again. Panicking, I force my free hand between us and grab his face, my hand under his jaw as I lift him enough to look into his eyes. “Condom. We need a condom, Jared. Please.”
His pupils are so dilated there’s just a thin ring of green around them, and at first I don’t see any recognition in them, but he only thrusts once more and stops, breathing hard.
“Get a condom. Please.”
“You’re mine,” he answers softly, voice gruff, and I nod.
“Yes, babe. I’m yours, but we need a condom, okay? Please?” Easing my hold on his face, I nod some more, and he stares at me for a long moment before he finally nods back.
“Okay.” Jared looks up, eyes searching the room, and then his gaze lands back on me. “Don’t move.”
“I won’t.” I stay still as he slowly lets go of my hand and my leg, moving to brace himself on either side of my ribs. He’s not looking at me though, he’s staring down at where we’re joined, skin to skin. We’ve only had sex without a condom once before, and it was because we were drunk and stupid, and I ended up taking the morning after pill the next day. He’d promised that it would never happen again, but when he’s still buried inside me a few seconds later, I’m not sure if he plans on keeping that promise. “Jared?”
“I need you,” he says, his voice low and rough and bordering on confused as he looks back into my eyes, his brows pulled together.
“I won’t move. I promise. I want you too.” Reaching up, I brush my hand across his cheek and his eyes close as he leans into my touch. “Just get a condom and we can keep going. I’m all yours.”
He nods before he opens his eyes, his intense gaze boring into me as he says, “Mine.”
Finally, he slides out of me, and I’m distracted by the sight of him. He looks even bigger than usual, thick and shiny with my wetness as his cock bobs at his hips. Sitting up straight he tears his sweat-soaked shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor before he stands and lets his jeans and boxers fall as well. I don’t move at all as he walks around the bed, grabbing a whole strip of condoms from the box before he returns to my side.
“Planning on another round or four?” I ask, trying to lighten the intense mood, but Jared just looks at me, his brows pulling together again as another strange expression passes over his face. After another second he tears a foil packet free and rips it open, and I finally relax a bit as he rolls it on.
“All mine,” he mumbles as he climbs back onto the bed between my thighs, pushing my knees wide enough to make my hips ache. I hiss air through my teeth, but I don’t fight him as he runs his t
humb through my wetness, dipping it inside. I’m sore already, tender, and when he switches to his fingers my hips jerk. Two fingers quickly becomes three, and I whine from the low pulse of pain, but it fades fast when he finds my g-spot and starts to tap. Jared’s voice sounds oddly flat when he quietly says, “I want you to like this.”
“I do. I’m just sore,” I try to explain, but it makes him frown and he shifts off the edge of the bed, immediately leaning forward to flick his tongue over my clit. A breath later he captures it and sucks, focusing on the bundle of nerves as he works his fingers inside me, sending me higher and higher until I’m fisting the sheets and arching my back from the constant waves of overwhelming sensation. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Yes, Jared, yes…”
“Better?” he asks in that same weird tone, and when I look down at him between my thighs, I can almost see my Jared in the darkness of his eyes. I nod and he dips his head back down, drawing another loud moan out of me as I fight the urge to come, but it’s hard when he’s attacking my g-spot and my clit with such dangerous accuracy.
“Please, please,” I beg, and he stops and looks up at me. I can’t think of what to say, but when I reach my hand down for him, he quickly climbs back on the bed, shifting me further up until he’s on the bed too.
“I…” Jared trails off, his gaze moving down my body as he slides a hand up my side, pushing my shirt higher. “I need you to be mine.”
“I am yours,” I answer, wiggling to pull my shirt over my head before I twist my arm underneath to unhook my bra and drop it to the floor. He groans, lowering his head to pull a nipple into his mouth, grazing the sensitive bud with his teeth before he sucks and teases, making me squirm beneath him. “Jared, please.”
When he lifts his head again, I’m not sure what the look on his face means, but it’s something entirely new. Everything about him feels different, but I’m not scared anymore. His tongue traces across his bottom lip before he lowers his hips between mine and grinds against me, teasing me with his hard shaft. “I need to take you. Make you mine,” he whispers.
Hunted (The Dirty Heroes Collection Book 13) Page 6