The Hunted (Sleeping With Monsters Book 2) by Cassie Alexander Page B

noise, stroking
me. I didn’t know my knot would make me stay so hard, or feel so good whenever
he touched it. I felt exposed, but not ashamed. This was who I’d always wanted
to be with him.
    “Have you gotten it
with others?” he asked.
    My breath hitched. I didn’t
want to lie, not when he’d accepted all my other truths. “No,” I said, just a
whisper.
    He made an even wiser noise,
and moved his mouth back on my cock.

Chapter Nine
    I stayed in the creek
until I thought I’d get hypothermia. Goddamn him, what gave him the right to
act like this? I slapped an open palm against the water – and found the night
was even colder when I got out.
    I had money, and I had
ID, and at least one clean pair of underwear left – I’d go up there, get my
bag, and then go, just go.
    I stumbled in the dark,
my feet being poked and prodded by turned stones and the roots of trees. I got
back, and saw the fire inside the cabin burning brighter than ever and paused. I’d
floated. I hoped he wouldn’t think that made me a witch.
    I got to the door and
hauled it open. He looked over his shoulder at me, his face guilty. He still
didn’t have a shirt on – what the hell was his problem with clothing?  
    “I need my things and
then I’m going.” I’d walk out of here naked if I had to, I didn’t need a
goddamned thing from him anymore.
    “Stay,” he said, voice
firm. I looked at him, and he at me. “We both know you don’t have anywhere
else.”
    I bit my lips together.
“You heard he’s gone, didn’t you.”
    “Yeah.”
    I sank down to my
knees. The smoke smelled awful, but at least the fire was warm. “How?”
    “I can’t tell you.”
    Sure, why not. I sunk my head, and then looked around for my robe to
cover myself with. He went and got a sweater from his non-serial-killer closet
for me and brought it back, handing it over. I tugged it on. It was huge,
hanging past my waist to bunch on the floor. It smelled like he did, musky and
good. I pulled out my necklace to sit on it between my breasts and glint in the
firelight.  
    “You were his, weren’t
you.” The odd way he said it made me look at him.
    “Yeah.” He was studying
me intently, the way Vincent sometimes did – used to – and then I remembered
the prior night when I’d fucked him. “Oh, God -- you must think I’m a whore.” I
had been, but --
    “No. I know what it’s
like to trade sex for safety.” His eyes glazed over like he was seeing his past
not mine. “I should have known better. I should have pushed you away –“
    “You couldn’t have
known.” I untucked and retucked my legs to be more comfortable, and hid my
hands inside their sleeves. That hadn’t been exactly what I was doing, but
better for him to think that. “How did you know Vincent?”
    “We were lovers.” He
watched me for a reaction. “You’re not surprised?”
    I shook my head. “I
knew every part about him. Even that one. We didn’t have secrets. He was very
clear about that. From the first day we met. He made me swear.” Which was why
I’d been so surprised there was only one go-bag there. I frowned, and pulled my
legs up underneath the sweater, until it enveloped me. “How long were you with
him?”
    “Three years. You?”
    It seemed best to be
truthful. “Seven.”
    “Did he ever…mention
me?”
    I couldn’t help but
hear the hopeful tone in his voice – but now was not the time for lies. “No.
I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be.”
    The way he was staring into
the fire, looking lost, broke my heart. “Did you love him?”
    He nodded.
    “I loved him too.”
    “I know. And if he
didn’t love you, you wouldn’t be here.” He stoked the fire. I saw the tail of
something blue curl inside it as it blackened.
    “What was that?”
    “Your robe, clothes,
and backpack. Don’t worry – I saved the money and your ID.”
    “What?” I crawled
toward the fire. “You burned -- my things? Why?”
    “You wouldn’t
understand.”
    “But –“ I looked