Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

When he was with me there were no demons lurking in the back of my mind. And even if there had been, I knew he’d chase them off. Probably by calling me pretty again—or telling me he’d protect me.

Before he had come into my life, no one had ever kept me safe.

No one had watched over me.

No one had saved me, not when I was small, and not when I was big either.

When Lydia had complimented me it was because she was manipulating me. I’d been wary of sweet words ever since the day I realized her love was a weapon, and her words were chains. Trapped in her web, I saw the spider that hung above me, always hungry, dripping venom—ready to bite.

Mutt’s compliments weren’t weapons. They had no ulterior motive. There was no manipulation, no darkness. When Mutt called me pretty, it was simply because he thought I was. When he bought me gifts, it was because he wanted me to be happy. When he touched me, it was because he wanted to. And when I melted for him, it was because he made me feel safe.

Because he made me happy.

I hadn’t known I could be happy either, but apparently I could.

“Don’t shake,” I warned him, pointing a finger at him threateningly. “Don’t do it?—”

Mutt’s long dark hair stuck to his back and shoulders, his eyes bright—flashing in the dark like a predator’s.

“Don’t you fucking do it?—”

His grin was wolfish.

Delighted.

Wicked.

This was a new side to him, playful and frisky—and unafraid of me. Unafraid of my emotions. He didn’t treat me like I was covered in bubble wrap, fragile and easily broken. But like I was hardy enough to withstand the frost. There was respect in his gaze. The kind of respect only an animal who has survived the cold dark nights can have for another.

The wounded sometimes recognize each other.

But I didn’t feel wounded when I was with him.

“Oh my fuck—” I gasped out, as Mutt giggled like a rabid hyena and began to shake his glorious mane. Water splattered all over me, and I blocked my face with a squawk. “You motherfucker?—”

“You say angry things!” Mutt cackled some more, dunking his head like a fucking lunatic in the inky black waves, before shaking it at me again. “But you smell happy-happy-happy!”

Calling me out.

The fucker.

I splashed him back, my boxers clinging to my skin as I tried to distract him for long enough I could get away.

I should’ve known he’d chase.

Because he did. I awkwardly waddle-leapt through the water, trying to get away—but only because I wanted him to follow. The hot brush of his breath on the back of my neck lit me up from the inside out.

Warm arms wrapped around me, yanking me against him as he caught up. He was laughing, and I could feel it. I could feel it as his chest shook and his lips vibrated against the side of my neck.

And then he yanked me down into the water with him, and it was cold-cold-cold, but somehow I was warm.

“My truck is going to smell like fish.” I snorted as I wrung the water out of my long-sleeved shirt, stationed inside the open driver’s side door. There was sand clinging to my legs, and thighs. And though my pants were dry—because they were the only thing I’d taken off—I didn’t bother pulling them back on.

I was too salt-sticky and cold.

“You have such pretty nipples,” Mutt informed me randomly. He was just as wet as I was, but didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was distracted as he reached for the hem of my shirt and yanked it up into my armpits.

“They’re cold,” I complained. My nipples were shivery and peaked, salt glistening on my chest as Mutt bent his head down and lapped at the perky buds. “Fuck,” I hissed out, grabbing onto his head with a quiet groan.