Breaking the Rules (The Hunter)
by Jina Bacarr
Erotic short story: 6,283 words
She smelled his scent before she saw him. Black leather soaked with a man's sweat, emitting a muskiness with a hint of citrus. Sweet and sticky.
Elaine froze at her laptop when the hunk wearing the black leather vest whisked by her in the coffeehouse and yanked her power cord loose with his muddy boot. Her screen went darker than an ebony night and her coffee cup shimmied back and forth like a kewpie doll.
The web page disappeared like it was sucked into a black hole.
Damn him. The nerve of the man. So what if he was tall with a strong jaw and broad shoulders? He wasn’t her type. Look at him. Dark and stormy, and filled with a wild streak like the critters roaming untamed through the dense woods in these back hills.
A way station back in the day for trappers and settlers heading west. Population around eighteen hundred when you counted the hogs and chickens. A small town doing its best to survive the economic downturn. And barely hanging on.
Like Elaine. Living on her meager salary and peanut butter sandwiches, she’d come home to put the pieces back together after a painful breakup.
Which meant no distractions from a guy with eyes so blue he could make a girl wet her pants with a hard stare.
Wait, did I say that?
Okay, think that, but she couldn’t help it. The last time this town had any excitement was when bootleggers came down from the hills fired up on corn liquor and packing shotguns. This stud was packing, too, she noticed. A six-shooter in his jeans, and not the kind that shot silver bullets. Not that she was interested. Still, clamping her legs together tight like an oyster protecting its pearl was a dead giveaway to her uneasiness.
Hunk Alert. Warning. Danger Ahead.
What was wrong with her? Acting like she was the town hussy in an old soap opera. She lifted her chin. Not her. Elaine was a play-by-the-rules girl. She liked square peanut butter sandwiches with the crusts cut off. She preferred her men also square. Button-down collars and single-pleated trousers. Corporate guys who texted their sexy intentions, not grunted like a bare-chested warrior in need of a haircut. She knew the type. Here today, gone on his Harley tomorrow.
No one-night stands for her.
Especially with a guy who had his primal moves down to a T.
Muscular arms. Spot-on smile that made her curl her toes. Bulge in his pants that left no doubt pulling out her power cord was no accident.
“I spent an hour filling out that job application,” Elaine said, letting go with an angry growl. Her precision-wired brain screamed at the loss. “All that work…gone.”
She should have kept her mouth shut, let him move on, but she didn’t. A fire erupted in her belly, surprising her. Maybe it was the late hour or maybe it was because she was sick of peanut butter sandwiches, but she decided to play his game. If only to break up the monotony and frustration of filling out her last five years of employment for the tenth time.
She unclamped her legs, her bold gesture inviting him to find her pearl. All shiny. And oozing with salty sea juices.
So you wanna play? her look said. Her steadfast gaze locked with eyes that waited to see what she’d do. Waited with the arrogance of a man who liked a challenge.
Instead he smiled, nodded an apology.
“Sorry, miss, I didn't see your cord.” He bent down and adjusted the cable. His sly grin made her close her legs again. Tighter this time.
Look at him, will you? I wouldn’t be surprised if he got a good peek up my skirt.
He kept grinning, turning on the charm and not letting her go. Stroking the cable cord like it was a woman’s body. Up and down with an icy coolness. As if the cord were a burning fuse leading straight to her pussy.
She never felt more exposed in her life.
- young adult
- new adult
- time travel
- dragon shifter
- bear shifter
- lion shifter
- tiger shifter
- science fiction
- urban fantasy
- erotic romance
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