Hunter

by Emmy Chandler

  Fortunately, the camera in the corner is dark, which tells me they haven’t yet figured out how I revoked everyone else’s access. But just in case, I point to it, and Callum hops up onto the food crate to bust it.

  “Sleep.” Callum says in my language, as he climbs down, and the wrist com doesn’t translate for him. It’s evidently learned that I speak that language, thus I don’t require a translation.

  “I will. But I want to wash up first.”

  “Eat,” he adds in the common language, and I nod. There’s no sense arguing, no matter how tired I am.

  After I wash up, chewing bites from a bar made up of dried fruit and nuts while I work, I can’t bring myself to put my grimy, sweaty shorts and sports bra back on. So, I rinse them out in the sink and lay them over the edge to dry, hoping we’ll have time for that before we have to leave.

  The supply pack catches my eye as I’m heading for the bed, and I stop when I realize neither of us has even gone through it yet. What if something in there is transmitting a signal? I didn’t see anything transmitting on the screen earlier, but it can’t hurt to check.

  Maybe there’s a change of clothes in there. I can’t imagine a wealthy prick like Scott Hansen hiking through the woods for a week without something clean to wear, and we haven’t found anything like that in the cabins. Though we haven’t checked the actual ration stations yet.

  I upend the bag onto the floor, and the contents tumble out.

  There’s a three-pack of boxer briefs, still sealed in the package. I rip them open and shake out a pair, but it’s immediately obvious that they’d fall right off of me. Disappointed, I toss the whole three-pack to Callum, who’s happy have them. And doesn’t seem to mind that I’m not wearing underwear.

  I change into a clean T-shirt, with the tag still attached, and slip on a pair of brand new socks, to give my feet a break from the form-fitting rubber-soled shoes. I’m about to throw everything else back into the bag when a cylindrical plastic case rolls across the floor. A toothbrush case!

  I pull it open and am devastated to find it empty. Why the hell would Hansen pack an empty toothbrush case?

  Curious, I dig through the rest of the supplies and come up with an unopened old-fashioned toothbrush—no motor—and a still-sealed travel-size tube of toothpaste. “Oh my god.” I feel like I just found buried treasure.

  Callum watches, amused, while I rip open the toothbrush and wet it with bottled water. I squirt a huge glob of toothpaste on top, and when the mint flavor hits my tongue, I can’t help but moan. It’s been nearly two days since I brushed my teeth, and several months since I’ve had mint-flavored anything. The toothpaste issued in the general population tastes like baking soda. We didn’t get toothpaste on the prison transport, and in jail during my trial, they gave us yet more of the baking soda crap.

  Callum laughs. But when I finally rinse and set the toothbrush on the edge of the sink to dry, he picks it up, aiming a silent question at me with arched brows.

  I nod, telling him to help himself. I would never have shared a toothbrush with someone before Devil’s Rock, but now I’m so grateful to have a toothbrush—and to have Callum—that I’d share much more than that with him. And I have.

  While he brushes his teeth, I crawl into the bed in nothing but my fresh shirt.

  “You need to sleep too,” I say, and the wrist com translates for me from the shelf over the head of the bed.

  Callum shakes his head and points at the window. “Watch,” he says with a mouthful of mint-scented foam.

  I think we can afford a couple of hours of simultaneous sleep, considering how far away the guards were the last time I checked, but I can tell from the bunching of his thick brows that I won’t win that argument. “Fine. But wake me up when you get tired.”

  Dimly, I’m aware of him crossing the room toward me. I can kind of feel his hand slide up my thigh briefly, as if enjoying the warmth of my skin, before he tucks the sheet over me. I hear him pull the chair up to the window. Then I am blissfully lost to sleep.

  13

  MACI

  I wake up as Callum slides into the bed behind me. His legs are bare, and based on the warmth against my back, so is his chest. And he’s really happy to be here. I can feel that too.

  I don’t know how long I slept, but the sunlight shining through the window is still rose-tinted and bright. I’m guessing it’s early afternoon. In a few hours, I’ll have been here for two days. “Any sign of guards?” I ask, as Callum shifts behind me. In reply, he closes his mouth over my earlobe and sucks gently. His lips and tongue are hot against my flesh, and every time he tugs on my ear, I feel an echo of that tug between my thighs.

  Before I met Callum, I didn’t even know such disparate parts of my body were connected by anything more substantial than flesh and bone, yet he seems to know just where to touch me to awaken hungers…elsewhere. As if he knows my body better than I do. But then, I haven’t experimented with it as thoroughly as he has, so I guess that makes sense.

  “That feels good,” I whisper. “But you didn’t answer the question. Any sign of guards?” The wrist com translates in a whisper that matches my own.

  “No guards. But the hound walked right in front of the cabin, without even slowing down. Do you know what that means, hellkitten?” Beneath the translation, I hear the nickname he’s given me in his language, and I have to admit, it sounds better that way. Sexy and exotic.

  “That means the soldiers don’t know we’re here. If they did, they’d have the hound stand guard at the door, so we can’t get out.”

  His smile feels like warmth from the sun, only more focused. And hotter. “And that means we have a little time…”

  “Yes.” I roll over to face him, and he pulls my left leg over his bare hip. Pressing his sizable erection against my stomach. “Time for you to sleep. You need rest, Callum.”

  “I need you.” He kisses me before I can argue, his hand sliding up from my waist to cradle the curve of my left breast. And just to emphasize his point, he thrusts against my stomach again.

  I break off the kiss with a laugh. “I got your point the first time. And it’s a very impressive…point. But mine stands. Sleep first. Then sex.”

  “Sex, then sleep,” he insists, in my language this time. And that’s so impressive I’m actually considering his counter offer. But it’s the slow circles he’s drawing around my nipple that tilt the scales in his favor.

  “Promise you’ll sleep afterward? Until I say we need to leave?”

  “I’ll promise you anything you want right now, Maci, if you’ll roll over and let me lick you,” he growls into my ear. “I need another taste.”

  “Anything I want, huh?”

  “Anything.” He slides his hand between my thighs and I suck in a breath when his fingers brush over the seam of my sex, teasing my clit without ever making real contact. “But I have to warn you, we convicted criminals are not the most trustworthy bunch.”

  “Well, considering that I’m one of those criminals…” I lose my train of thought when his finger rubs over me again, and my legs open for him with no conscious intent on my part. “What if I want to taste you?”

  He slides two fingers into me, stroking with pressure in just the right spot, so slowly that the sensation is as much torture as it is pleasure. I’m waiting for the next stroke before this one is finished, and after a minute, I realize I’m holding my breath. Thrusting slowly against his fingers. Hoping for more…

  “Taste me?” he whispers, and the wrist com translates softly. It takes me a second to remember that those were originally my words. I’ve almost forgotten I even know how to speak, much less that I made a counter offer of my own. “Little hellkitten, are you saying you want my cock in your mouth?”

  “Yes? Maybe?” Even after what we’ve done together—what he’s done to me—I still flush at just the thought. “I’ve never done that, but I’d like to try…”

  “Oh my god,” he groans. “How is such a sweet, innoce
nt little thing like you still so sweet and innocent on Devil’s Eye? Tell me the truth—you got off the prison transport yesterday, didn’t you?” He’s teasing me, but he’s not far from the truth.

  “I’ve been here a month, but I got lucky. A man in zone four looked out for me and my friend.”

  Callum props himself up on one elbow, clearly curious. “And he didn’t fuck you for his trouble?”

  I shake my head, and my hair catches on the rough material of the pillow case beneath me. “He liked Audra.”

  “I don’t care if he worshiped this Audra’s pussy like it dripped gold, if he took care of you without fucking you, you got damn lucky.”

  A bitter ache spreads through my chest, and for a moment, I can only blink up at him. “So, I’m only in here with you because I’m sleeping with you? If I don’t spread my legs, are you going to throw me out to the hound?”

  “Of course not, hellkitten,” he leans down to nuzzle my neck. “Without you, I can’t unlock the door.”

  I sit up and push him away, and his expression sobers when he realizes I wasn’t joking.

  “Maci, look at me.”

  But I can’t. I’ve made it through the past two days of terror, exhaustion, and constant hunger because I thought…

  I don’t know what I’d thought. I like Callum. But what the hell does that mean on Devil’s Eye? We’re convicted killers. We’ve managed to hold off execution so far, but I know damn well that can’t last.

  What did I think was going to happen? We were going to break out through the northern gate and live happily ever after on a planet full of rapists, thieves, and murderers? There is no happily ever after here. In zone four, we were lucky if we got a fucking pleasant afternoon.

  Yet…when I wasn’t actively fearing for my life, I’d been happy with Callum over the past two days. And I’d thought he was happy with me.

  “Maci.” He grabs my chin, but instead of letting him turn my face, I shove him off.

  “I get it,” I snap. “I’m only worth what’s between my legs. And just so you understand, that’s not so different here than it was on my homeworld. That’s how I was still a virgin when I got here. My brother never let me out of the house alone—not even to date—because we lived in a really shitty district, and I still look like a fucking child, which attracts the worst kind of predators. But I thought you were…”

  “You thought I was what?” His voice has gone hard. Even in the translation coming from the wrist com over my head. So finally, I look at him, only to find him watching me with a steely gleam in his eyes, like I haven’t seen from him since he first pulled me into that tree. Back when he thought saving me was a mistake, and I’d get both of us killed. “You thought I was different? Why? If I’m different than the men in the open population, it’s because I’m worse. I deserve to be here. I deserve to die for what I did.”

  “What did you do?” I had no intention of asking, but suddenly there the question is, hanging between us.

  “I’m a killer, Maci.” The words sound bitter and hard. Unflinching. “I beat three men to death because they took something that belonged to me. I did it to send a message. Which is the same reason I caved Scott Hansen’s head in, even after he stopped breathing. Because he tried to take you, so I had to make a fucking statement, and I do not intend to be misunderstood.”

  I should be terrified of him right now. My head knows that. But my body…

  My chest feels tight. That sensitive place between my thighs feels damp.

  “You’re saying I belong to you?” That should piss me off. And on one level, it does. But on that other level…

  “Hell yes, you belong to me,” he growls. “And not in that ‘prison dibs’ kind of way. You belong to me like my own fucking hand belongs to me. Like you’re a part of me. And I will fuck up anyone who tries sever you from me.”

  “So…” I have to stop and clear my throat, because my voice is hoarse with some emotion I can’t let myself analyze right now. “So, I have no choice in this?”

  He looks at me like I’m speaking gibberish, in spite of the translator. “No. Maci, don’t you get it? I have no choice. I haven’t bowed to anyone else’s will since I walked out of my pop’s house when I was seventeen years old. Yet somehow, in less than two days, you’re leading me around the woods like you’ve got a rope tied around my cock. You have all the power. So, yes, I want to fuck you. Right now, I want to be deep inside you so badly that it’s hard to keep my words straight as I say them. But that’s not why you’re here. And I’m not going to touch you again until you tell me you want that as much as I do.”

  By the time he quits talking, I’m breathing so hard the room looks a little fuzzy around the edges. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at once.” In fact, the translator seemed to be having trouble keeping up.

  He shrugs. “I’m here to pay for the things I’ve actually done wrong, not for the imaginary counts of sexual extortion you’re adding to my rap sheet. Though I can understand the assumption, considering where we are, and what I just said about your friend from zone four.” He frowns. “So, I guess this miscommunication is mostly my fault.”

  “Well, I appreciate the clarity.” Though that seems woefully inadequate to explain how relieved I feel right now. How…overwhelmed I am, to think that he values me like a part of his own body.

  Do I have a rope tied around his cock? How the hell did I manage that?

  “You know, when I first saw you, I thought Shaw put you in here to lure me out,” Callum says. “Like a human duck call, or deer pheromones sprayed on a tree. Then, when I found out you were a virgin, I knew that had to be the case. Why else would they throw a defenseless, freshly shaved virgin into the hunting enclosure?”

  “The warden didn’t put me here for you,” I tell him. “I was supposed to be for Hansen. He wanted to be the one to pull the trigger on my execution. No pun intended.”

  “He said you killed his brother.” Callum’s brows dip with a new thought. “He came all the way out to Rhodon just to execute you himself?”

  “No, he was already here, to hunt you. I got sent to Devil’s Eye for hacking into a government network.” For my parents. Who didn’t even show up at my trial. “Three days ago—I think?—I escaped zone four with Audra and Tyson, but I got picked up by a patrol shuttle. I woke up here in zone two, where they made me shower and…groom myself. Then they stripped me and gave me to a man named Steven Hansen. Scott Hansen’s brother, who evidently paid for this extravagant, fucked-up vacation as a birthday gift. I accidentally killed Steven, trying to keep him off me, and murder gets an automatic death sentence. The warden said Scott could do the honors. So, here I am,” I finish. And Callum is watching me with an odd, quiet smile. “What?” I ask.

  “I was right.” His eyes flash with a resurgence of heat. “You are a hellkitten.”

  “Damn,” I can’t resist a smile. “What kind of murder do I have to commit to graduate to full-grown hellcat?”

  “Premeditated,” he says, and I can’t tell whether or not he’s joking. “If those guards find us, you’ll get your chance. We’re going to get out of here, Maci. I’m not going to let them hunt us down like dogs.”

  I don’t believe him. I believe he means what he’s saying, but that’s not how this place works. Even if we could escape the enclosure, they’d just hunt us down and shoot us in the wild. These past two days, and however many more we survive, they’re like a stay of execution, not a pardon. Eventually, the hammer will fall, and it will crush us both. But until then…

  “I believe you were going to try to get some sleep.”

  “I believe you were going to let me taste you first,” he counters.

  “If memory serves, there’s an alternate proposal on the table,” I remind him, and he frowns. “Wherein I am on the giving end, rather than the receiving.”

  “You know, it is possible to do both at once,” he says, and when my face begins to burn, he laughs. “But I guess there’s plenty o
f time for that.”

  I hope he’s right. But I doubt it.

  “Okay, I’m going to try this.” I rise up on my knees, and he rolls onto his back, pupils dilated in anticipation. “But you have to promise to tell me if I do it wrong.”

  “There’s no way to do it wrong, Maci.”

  But again, I have my doubts.

  Nerves fluttering in my belly, I settle myself between his thighs, and at first, I can only look at him spread out in front of me. I’ve never really gotten to see him like this without the distraction of his hands on me. Not that I mind the distraction, but it’s kept me from truly noticing that he’s beautiful.

  Messy dark hair, thick, expressive eyebrows, and two days’ beard stubble. Strong hands capable of both violence and pleasure. A quiet smile that seems patient, though the eagerness in his eyes belies that as I slide my hand down his chest, enjoying the feel of him beneath my fingers. His body is a playground of hard planes and mounds of muscle. He is power restrained. He is tenacious appetite and indulgent amusement in equal parts. And oh, god, he is all I know of sex. Of pleasure. Of my body’s own potential.

  But now I want to know his.

  I let my fingers trail over the tight V of his lower abdomen, and the muscles tense beneath my touch. His cock jumps, as if it’s reaching for my hand, and I smile, trying to push past my own timidity. There’s no better time than now.

  There may be no other time than now.

  I take him in my hand and feel the thick, hard length of him. Soft on the surface, but like stone beneath. He groans as I run my hand up and down. Familiarizing myself with his shape and size. Tightening my grip a little with each shy stroke. The head feels thick, and it has some give. There’s a bead of moisture at the tip. I brush my thumb over, it, smearing it, and Callum groans.

  I look up to see if I’m doing this right, but his eyes are closed. His chest rises and falls deeply, his breathing quickening with every movement of my hand.

  He likes it. I feel like I have the same kind of power over him that he had over me when his head was buried between my legs.