The Hunter

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The Hunter Page 1

by Elizabeth Fyre




  THE HUNTER

  He’ll hunt down anything for his woman.

  Elizabeth Fyre

  www.ElizabethFyre.com

  Copyright © 2020 by Elizabeth Fyre

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher. For permissions contact:

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  The Hunter

  “Order, order!” James Watson, the first officially-elected leader of the Barton Oakes Settlement and my father, smiled over the crowded hall. We hushed down at once, and his stern look immediately turned warm under those big bushy gray eyebrows of his. He laughed out loud, “I’ve always wanted to say that!”

  I smiled and teasingly rolled my eyes as laughter rippled through the barn that served as our meeting house. Next to me, Tillie Sutton smiled as she fanned herself against the dense summer heat.

  At the podium, my father continued, “I know it’s hot in here, so I’ll make this meeting brief. We’re moving right on schedule for the summer, and I’m proud of this little community. I know the world outside is frightening, but we’ve made something truly wonderful here. We’re safe, and we’re together. Our first greenhouse is almost ready, which is very exciting news, indeed! We’ve done good work, folks! I suspect the greenhouse construction will be finished within a few weeks.”

  Our applause thundered through the barn, Tillie cheering aloud as I stomped my feet. Town halls were one of my favorite parts of the week—we all got to come together and see how well we were working as a community. Things were going well for us. The community had already constructed a basic wall around most of the territory. Thankfully we had a river bordering a large part of it, and we were working on using all available space for farming. We still had a ton of more work to do, but in times of civil war, it was a lucky thing to be part of a community where our basic needs would be met.

  From what we heard through our HAM radios, we had it pretty good. Very good, in fact. It was frightening to see how fast civilization, of all places, our home, the United States, had fallen apart. But we were all hopeful. We knew a part of the US Army was organized and on the move, helping people and restoring the peace, but it was slow. Until then, we had to survive and maintain some sort of order ourselves because we had no idea when the army would reach us.

  Dad waited for the cheers to die down before moving on. “Our scouting team has reported that there’s still fighting close to Chicago, but it seems to be focused on the control of the Mississippi River. Our river tributary isn’t of much value to them. Oscar tells me it looks like the fighting is dying down as people move into settlements for safety in numbers. He’s hopeful that by winter, the fighting will have stopped. Isn’t that right, Oscar?”

  I nonchalantly twisted in my seat to catch a glimpse of Oscar Mathis, standing with his pack of hunters towards the back of the barn. All of the hunters were our biggest and strongest, but Oscar Mathis was the toughest-looking guy by far. Oscar raised his tattooed hand to my father and nodded slowly for an answer, his shirt tight against his broad chest and defined muscles. He caught me staring, and the corner of his lips twitched up in a faint, barely-there smile. He held my gaze with heavy-lidded intensity, still leaning casually against the barn wall. Tattooed thumbs were hooked into the loops of his jeans, and he was staring at me as if I were the only person in the room. When my father started talking again, Oscar didn’t look away from me. A slow, easy smile curled over his lips just before I turned back to face the front. I shivered, warmth flooding my entire body as I imagined what those hands could do . . . I hadn’t tried them out. Yet.

  “And now I’ll open the floor to community members. If anyone has any matters they would like to address, now is the time.” With that, he stepped down from the podium.

  After a moment’s hesitation, I stood and made my way to the front of the crowd. Tillie gave me a thumbs-up, and Oscar was still staring at me with that hot, intense gaze. My stomach fluttered, and my crotch grew warm, aching for him. I focused on Tillie because Oscar was too distracting. “I’d like to raise a motion to open a dentist’s office for the settlement. Dental care is extremely important, and I’d like to volunteer my time, making sure we all stay healthy. It might seem frivolous, but there have been multiple studies about how good oral hygiene leads to quality of life improvements!”

  I was rambling, excited and nervous about pitching my idea. But before I’d even managed to catch my breath, before Tillie raised her hand to second my idea, before my father even had a chance to ask for seconds to my motion, Oscar raised his hand again. He called out, his voice low, and as rich as chocolate, “Seconded!”

  Despite the heat of the summer day and the crowd in front of me, I couldn’t stop a shiver of delight from rolling down my spine. He maintained his relaxed posture, still staring at me with a faint smirk on his lips while the crowd around him tittered. I caught Tillie’s eye, and she grinned, giving me another thumbs-up and adding her vote for my proposal. I beamed, ecstatic, as my father tallied the votes and declared the motion passed.

  I was going to have a practice again! Ever since the war had started and the cities had become too dangerous, I had to leave my dental practice in downtown Chicago for the safety of the countryside. We found Barton Oakes as we were fleeing south, a small town nestled in the country. Because of my education and my dad’s business experience, our family was thankfully accepted into the fold. Barton Oakes was careful to make it a safe stop for families and small groups passing through. It was how they found people with valuable and needed skills. For the past three months, we’d all been hard at work to make it a viable, wonderful little community in the midst of the uncertainty around us.

  I had never spent much time with a person like Oscar before. He wasn’t like any of the friends that I’d ever had in fact. He was a He-Man of the woods, one with nature, armed to the teeth and usually out stalking Bambi. He was disarmingly handsome with a strong jawline and cleft chin, wild brown hair, and, well, he was simply physically huge. At first glance, he was terrifying all geared up, although the settlement children didn’t seem to think so. I’m sure everyone felt safer knowing that this giant man was out there, somewhere nearby, stalking in the woods.

  I took another peek back at Oscar. Tillie nudged me in the ribs and snorted softly, eyeing me from the corner of her eye, smiling. Nothing was secret here.

  I’d met Oscar when I was new to the settlement, and we were both working on the fence for three days straight together. Without anyone else around us, he was warm and curious, asking me question after question about what I did. He told me about some of the local plants and animals. His knowledge of the woods and land was incredibly impressive. I fell hard for him. And embarrassingly, I figured he saw my crush right away too, giving me sly smiles and casual brushes of the skin. Not long after that, we were a hot item.

  My father dismissed the meeting. As people filed out, they patted me on the shoulder, congratulating me and offering to help with whatever I might need, especially Logan Mcintosh, our settlement’s doctor, before heading out into the bright sun of the beautiful summer day.

  However, I noticed that Oscar hadn’t moved an inch from his post against the wall.

  He waited until my dad, Loga
n, and Tillie had filed out, and we were alone before breaking his cool outer demeanor. A huge smile broke over his face as he pushed himself off the wall and sauntered confidently over to my side, bending down to kiss my cheek, voice husky with pride, “Well done, Doc.”

  I smiled shyly at him, unable to stop a delighted giggle as his arms, thick as tree trunks and dense with heavy black tattoos, wrapped around my waist. He pulled me tight against his chest, staring down at me in that sly manner of his. Feeling Oscar’s muscled body against mine, I knew the sudden wave of warmth that flooded my body, especially between my legs, wasn’t entirely because of the hot summer season.

  “I got you a present,” he said, reaching for his back pocket. “Wanted to make sure you had something pretty and new for your first day as Barton’s first official dentist.”

  I smiled wryly at him, gently poking his chest. “You didn’t have to!”

  “You’ve been planning this for so long, I knew it was going to happen soon.” He pulled a small satin jewelry box out of his pocket, cradling it as if it were a kitten. “Hope you like it.”

  I gasped as he gently tucked the box into my hands. Sitting inside on a pillow of soft blue satin, glinting in the light from the open doors, was a delicate gold necklace with a tiny, sun-shaped pendant fitted with a sparkling blue gemstone. “Oscar,” I breathed, “oh, Oscar, it’s beautiful!”

  He grunted in pleasure, and when I lifted my eyes from the beautiful necklace, I thought I might drown in the look in his eyes. Self-satisfied, the tips of his ears and tops of his cheeks were ever so slightly red.

  “I’m surprised something this beautiful was still there to be scavenged,” I said.

  Oscar nodded. His hands smoothed down my long deep-brown hair and fiddled against the small of my back as if he wanted nothing more than to let them roam. I knew he was holding himself back. He was still an utter gentleman for all his muscles, his gruff manner, and his layers and layers of dramatic, dark tattoos.

  I raised myself on my toes to kiss him—this time, on the lips. He made a noise of deep, intense satisfaction as our lips met, leaning down as if he was hungry for more. One hand gently cupped my face, his other hand tightening in the flesh of my hips as our lips parted. The gift was momentarily forgotten in our passion for each other.

  I was hungry for Oscar after his five-day trip deep in the woods with the other hunters. I’d thought of him every single night, imagining my hands were his, imagining his fingers stroking my thighs, his tongue on me, in me…

  I’d forgotten how sweet these moments were, stolen in between work, how gentle and firm his hands were, how delicious his kisses were.

  As if he had read my mind, his grip on me tightened, grew more possessive, and he kissed me once, twice more before pulling back and resting his forehead against mine. His breaths were deep and ragged, and he held me fast against his chest like I were the precious jewel.

  After a moment spent catching my breath, I gently tugged the necklace out of its box, unfastened the clasp and held up the two ends towards him.

  His smile turned shy, and he dropped his gaze to focus on the necklace clasp. The metal was cool against my skin, but his fingers were warm, and their gentle touch made me shiver in pleasure. The heat that had started pooling in my groin only grew deeper, hotter, and more intense by the second.

  A smile brightened his face as I turned. “I’m glad you like it, Sara.”

  I turned my head and caught his gaze. “I love it! You have good taste!”

  “Lasts longer than flowers.” His hand touched the pendant on my chest. “Plus, Tillie warned me if she caught me picking flowers from the gardens again, she’d have my head. Tell everyone I’m a big softie, and all that.”

  My giggles turned into a moan as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against the nape of my neck. “You are a big softie,” I sighed, closing my eyes and reeling in the heat of his body so close to mine. He smelled like sweat and something fiery, burning. It drove me wild, every part of my body yearning for his.

  His chuckle made my stomach tighten with desire. “Only for my clever girl.”

  Oscar’s hands drifted down from my shoulders, exploring the lines of my body with the tips of his fingers. Lightly, he traced the curve of my back with touches so faint I thought I might be dreaming. Every nerve of my body hummed with electricity, leaping and crackling with growing ferocity.

  His finger traced the chain where it lay against my collarbone. “Beautiful,” he said softly, eyes warm and earnest.

  I raised myself on my toes to kiss him again, twining my hands through his thick hair as the kiss unfolded like a budding flower. Slowly and as gentle and sweet as the first taste of cold ice cream on a hot day. And then the kiss expanded, growing like a current between our lips. Our passion spread out slowly, brilliantly, until I was buzzing with anticipation at his touch, needing him.

  Despite the lingering heat from the presence of so many bodies packed together in the barn not ten minutes ago, I still shivered. My lips parted, and his hands glided down my back and lingered, softly, on my ass. He growled in delight, and the kiss deepened as his hands wandered.

  He traced some slow, smooth circular pattern there, paying attention to every part of my back and bottom, cupping and squeezing gently, pulling me closer against his tight, muscular chest. I adored the way he worshiped me after a long, arduous hunt. I broke the kiss to catch my breath, and he almost whined in protest, his lips traveling instead across my cheek to kiss my eyelids, my nose, my temples—anywhere he could reach. Breath caught in my lungs. Every movement and every touch were kindling for the flame burning low and slow in my deepest center.

  “Did . . . ah . . . did you think of me while you were gone?” I whispered, wanting to hear just how desperately hungry for me he had become while we had been apart.

  Oscar grunted in affirmation. “Every night,” he answered, his voice reverberating through my very bones as he bent his head to kiss my neck. “Every night, every day, every damn hour.”

  My smile turned into a soft gasp of pleasure as his lips and tongue tasted the warm flesh of my throat. Can he hear how fast my heart is beating? I wondered, eyes closed and pulled together in ecstasy.

  “You’re always in my mind, Sara,” he murmured in between kisses, both soft and intense, chaste and passionate. “Even with my eyes open, I dreamed of you.”

  I opened my eyes, my head tilting towards the roof of the old barn. Sunbeams scattered through the high windows, draping us in warm, dazzling drops like fresh honey. A gentle breeze flowed through a myriad of cracks as if in a vain attempt to cool my warm, sweating body pressed up against Oscar’s maddening heat. I wanted him between my legs, I wanted his lips to worship every part of me, I wanted to feel him deep inside me, body and soul. “What did you dream of?”

  “These especially,” he murmured, his hands sliding up my stomach to cup my breasts, pushed up against his body. “This. I dreamed of . . . of . . .” His voice turned unexpectedly shy, even while his fingers were spread wide, touching as much of me as he could reach. “I dreamed of you in my bed. Our bed,” he finished, his voice so quiet I had to hold my breath to hear his murmured words.

  “Ever so chivalrous,” I teased, stroking the back of his head. When he smiled, I felt it against my skin, pressed as he was against my neck. I wrapped my arms tighter around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. The fondness, the adoration in my heart, threatened to overwhelm me.

  He raised his head, and, for a moment, our movements ceased, pulling out like the tide. He smiled ruefully at me, his cheeks flushed and eyes shining with passion. “Don’t tell the others I’m a softie. I’ve got my reputation to uphold.”

  His arms encircled my waist, and I traced one of the tattoos—a sharply-angled geometric design—with the pads of my fingertips, admiring the way the ink rippled across his muscular bicep. He shivered at my touch, and when I looked up, he was staring at me with that furrowed-brow, starving look I adored so much. I smi
led and kissed the corner of his lips, pulling away before he tilted his head to try to catch a full kiss.

  “Don’t worry,” I whispered in mock-conspiracy tones. “Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Oscar Mathis.”

  His bright, full smile could have cleared the sky of thunderheads, and I was almost certain I was the only one in the settlement who had ever seen Oscar Mathis truly smile. It warmed my heart and made it flutter so hard against my ribcage I thought it might burst. I ran my hands down the densely compacted muscles of his chest and his stomach, watching his reaction with pleasure. He groaned softly and titled his head back at the touches, his grip tightening on my hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there. Our hips, our thighs were pressed tight against each other, and I felt the swell of his cock between my legs. His entire body was straining—I could sense the sheer force of his self-control as he willed himself to take it slow and enjoy every moment of our first embrace after nearly a week apart.

  And seeing him like this delighted me almost as much as the warm, electrifying touches of his hands on my body.

  “Where . . . where d’you wanna—” his words cut off with a strangled moan. My crotch was slippery with heat, my clit almost beating with an intensely painful need. His hard cock bulged in his pants and poked into my stomach. He took a moment to gather his breath, eyebrows pulling together. “People are going to walk in on us—”

  “The clearing,” I whispered, my voice struggling to maintain some manner of composure. “By the little waterfall.”

  He groaned in assent. With some measure of difficulty, we managed to pull apart, to separate our hot bodies. My heart was thudding hard against my chest, my head swirling with the growling, animalistic passionate demand of now, now, now!

  Stumbling into the bright light of the midday sun, we hurried across the quiet compound towards the river, heading for one of our hideaways. It was hard in a settlement as crowded as Barton Oakes to find a place private enough, so we carved out our own spots, hidden like jewels all over the property. The one by the waterfall was my favorite, though, because the crashing waters could hide our voices, and no kids were allowed near the water without adult supervision. And besides, it was now schooltime. Although it was hard to know how to find the clearing, it was still in an open-enough space that anyone could stumble upon us. Making out there felt a little taboo, and it made every moment all the more daring.

 

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