Hunted (8 page)

He’d thought for a moment the ladies might take it, but then there was Todd. Crisp and preppy, tanned and funny, Todd had perfect teeth and a killer backhand on the tennis court. Never mind how good he looked in shorts and tennis whites. There was Leroy, the guy in the band, with his easygoing humor, killer smile, and fabulous talent on the drums. Rhythm like that could be put to good use in any endeavor.

After one day and night at the club, nothing had been resolved.

Jared arrived at the helipad to find the other two hunters already waiting. They looked him over and clearly decided he was no threat to their chances of winning. That was okay—Jared liked to be underestimated. He sat back and checked them both out.

The one who had decked him the night before—Damon—appeared to be relaxed but really observing everything. Mr. Control. He was wearing dark green from head to toe, heavy boots and carried a small backpack. He was a bit too intense to tempt Jared, and last night had shown the consensual bit wasn’t so important to him. That was a turn-off.

The other guy was dressed in fatigues and seemed to have every gadget imaginable hung from his belt. He must be Neil. A coil of rope was slung over his shoulders and he wore reflective sunglasses. He was tightly wound, this guy, but it was possible he had the very best ass on the planet.

Jared wondered which team he played on.

Both obviously worked out with more discipline than Jared, who was simply blessed with a good metabolism. He watched them, came up with some interesting possible scenarios for the weekend, but doubted much would come of it.

As they waited for the helicopter, Jared realized this was his last chance to reconsider. In ten minutes, he’d be trapped on the island for forty-eight hours with these two. He felt under-prepared compared to them, and certainly less driven to win, but he was on vacation, for fuck’s sake. He was wearing his favorite sneakers and cargo pants, a T-shirt and a hoodie. He had a canteen and a knife, some energy bars, but really, he’d been thinking about the sex.

Well, and his own orientation.

He thought about Shara. She
was
gorgeous and she’s certainly been fired up the night before with Damon.

She liked being tied up more than he thought he’d like doing it. On the other hand, why not give it a try?

And her puss had the sweetest perfume. He’d liked the look of her in the picture they’d sent, but in real life, she was a lot more interesting. On the other hand, claiming her was going to be a challenge, requiring more of an effort than he usually made. Women usually came to him, like they had the night before.

He and Lisa had had a pretty hot night after she’d picked him up off the beach and wiped the blood from his nose. Mmm, that tongue stud was a bit of all right. Jared wondered what else she could do with it. Another day and night with Lisa would have been just fine.

Two days and nights of just sampling the gorgeous people available at this place would have been even better.

Then Damon caught Jared’s gaze and smiled, just a little.

As if mocking him for not playing hard.

“How many other rules are you planning to break?” Jared asked, hearing the irritation in his own voice. The thing was that Damon’s choice made Jared want to champion Shara—even if she had liked it.

Damon’s smile broadened. “As many as I need to.” His words were silky, confident and irritating enough that Jared decided to go.

If only to teach this guy he wouldn’t always triumph.

“Is it all about winning?”

Neil glanced up and answered before Damon could. “Of course.” His voice was hard, a take-no-prisoners kind of voice, and Jared knew right then it was going to be a heterosexual weekend, if he got any at all.

Maybe there’d be other compensations for that.

When they were dropped to the island not twenty minutes later, Jared pretended to head across the island, then doubled back and surreptitiously followed Damon. Jared liked sneaking up on people, he liked to watch without being observed, and he liked sneaking away once he’d had—or seen—what he wanted. He would have followed Damon the night before, just to see what he was going to do to Shara, but Lisa had changed that plan. Jared shadowed Damon easily, smiling in his conviction the other man didn’t even realize he was there.

It was payback time.

Jared tracked Damon for two hours, keeping him in view with such ease he was starting to feel smug. Damon looked as if he were tracking something—or someone—so he must have found signs of Shara’s passage. The easiest plan for vengeance, in Jared’s opinion, was to let Damon capture her again, but then turn the tables on the other man and steal Shara away.

Maybe he’d let Damon watch him take her.

Jared smiled in anticipation before he realized Damon had disappeared. He took a step forward, peering into the jungle, but nothing moved. He took another step, and then another, wondering where the other man had gone.

Then the hard edge of a knife revealed the truth. Jared froze.

“Looking for someone?” Damon asked, his knife at Jared’s throat. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. We’re going to play a little game.”

“At my expense,” Jared guessed.

Damon smiled as he secured Jared’s wrists behind his back with a cable tie and pulled it tight. “Certainly not mine,” he murmured then pushed Jared into the small clearing ahead of them. Jared stumbled, losing his balance, and stepped into a pile of leaves. There was something wrong with the way the leaves were arranged, but he saw it too late to stop himself from falling into the trap.

His step triggered the release of the rope. The heavy jute rope snapped, then slithered over the tree bough overhead. A rope net was lifted from the jungle floor, gathering Jared into it along with those leaves. He found himself hanging in a rope net, his hands bound behind each other, and dangling eight feet off the ground. He struggled and thrashed, guessing that the trap had been set for Shara.

Damon was tying the rope that held the net aloft to a tree, and Jared would have bet he was a guy who knew his knots. He leaned against the tree once the rope was secured and smiled at Jared. “Don’t you think you should call for help?” he said. “You never know. Maybe someone will set you free.”

Then the bastard walked away.

And Jared bellowed in frustration. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be!

* * *

It was way too quiet.

Shara perched in a tree, watching the clearing around the reservoir. She’d been sure the men would come to it, just to verify its location, but it had been hours since the helicopter had dropped them off and there was no sign of her hunters.

Where had they gone?

She might have been alone on the island, which wasn’t how she’d expected her birthday to pass. She’d actually been thinking of initiating a chase, by ‘accidentally’ appearing when one of the men was in sight, but their absence trashed that plan.

There was no sign of the men, no sounds other than the wind rustling the top of the jungle canopy. It was shady close to the ground but too humid and still to be cool. Shara bit her lip and adjusted her position. It was already afternoon and would be night soon enough. She was feeling her exhaustion from being awake the night before, probably because of the heat, and hoped the hunt wouldn’t end so lamely that one of them scooped her up when she was sleeping. No, she had to get moving, get this hunt started. She was thinking she’d give it another hour, then sat bolt upright when she heard a shout.

“Help!” a man cried, although she didn’t know which one of them it was. “Help! Get me out of this fucking thing!” he roared, and she knew it was Jared.

Was he trying to draw her out of hiding?

Or was he really in trouble?

Of the three men, he was the one who it would be easiest to befriend. Shara remembered Jared’s offer to help her sleep well the night before. And really, it didn’t matter if it was a trick or if he genuinely needed help. Her hiding place was obviously too good, because she did want to be caught eventually.

Maybe sooner than that.

She slipped out of the tree and moved toward his voice, alert for any signs of pursuit.

“Help! Someone please!” Jared shouted again at closer proximity, his voice sounding strained. “For fuck’s sake, set me free!”

Shara eased closer, her heart pounding. She could see something moving through the growth ahead, something in a small clearing. It was Jared, snared in a rope net and suspended from the ground. The rope was densely woven and she wouldn’t have known it was him, if not for his voice. He swore again and continued to thrash in the trap, his obvious fear convincing Shara to take another step forward.

The net hung from a single rope, one knotted to a tree close beside her. Shara peered into the shadows, but couldn’t see anyone lurking there. She didn’t want to call out to Jared, because that might identify her position.

That is, if no one had heard the pounding of her heart yet.

It took her half of forever to get to the knot in the rope. Jared shouted and struggled all the while, apparently unaware of her presence. Otherwise, the forest breathed in watchful silence. Shara had the definite sense someone was monitoring her progress, but she decided it was silly. She couldn’t see, hear, or smell anyone. She reached for the rope, surprised to find it had been knotted so a single tug on the end would unfasten the knot. It was a kind of a hitch, maybe one used on boats.

She grabbed the rope and tugged. The loosened rope shot through her fingers and over the bough of the tree overhead. The net dropped fast and Jared landed hard. He swore again, still flailing within the mesh of the net.

Then the net stopped dropping. The rope had snagged on something, Jared still caught within the net. He swore and she shouted to him.

“Sorry! I’ll get it.” Shara would have followed the course of the rope to find the snag but it was too late. She was caught from behind, a rough hood hauled over her head so she couldn’t see a thing.

“Gotcha,” Damon said with satisfaction.

Shara grabbed for the hood, but Damon had already seized her wrists. He spun her around and sealed them together behind her back, securing them with a cable tie. She stumbled forward, but he caught her around the waist, tipping her over his knee and binding her ankles together with alarming speed. She was eased to the ground, writhing but unable to get free.

“You’ve done this before,” she charged, struck again by his efficiency. Jared bellowed again, but no one helped him.

“But never with such a fine trophy,” Damon said. He pushed back the hood and she saw his triumphant smile. He was crouched beside her, looking purposeful and intent. Her puss started to hum with anticipation. This was what she’d wanted! Damon pushed his fingers through her hair again, lifting her head with his hand beneath her nape, and claimed her with a kiss.

It was as hot and wonderful as the ones he’d given her the night before. Shara felt her eyes close with pleasure, and she wondered what he’d do to her next. She hoped he took his time in savoring his victory.

She hoped she could stand it.

Then he broke the kiss and she saw the length of knotted cloth. She opened her lips to protest, but he gagged her quickly, silencing her. He was rough and the cloth was pulled tight, making her his captive in a thrilling way. Shara’s heart was hammering and she bucked her hips a little in silent demand.

Damon chuckled, then ran his hand over her. If anything, his eyes were darker and his manner even more intent. He liked this as much as she did.

“Try to scream,” he instructed in a whisper. Shara did and was startled by how little sound she was able to make. Damon smiled. “Excellent,” he murmured. “We don’t want Neil to interfere with our fun.”

Shara dared to wink at him and he grinned.

Then he tugged the hood over her head again.

“Set me free!” Jared cried.

“Work it out for yourself,” Damon retorted. He rolled Shara over then, using another cable tie to secure her bound wrists to her bound ankles. She wriggled, because she thought it was expected, then found it so exciting to be this helpless she fought harder against her bonds. She realized she’d expected to be able to break free if she really tried.

But she couldn’t.

She was helpless and his.

Shara moaned in delight, then Damon’s strong hands were on her. She halfway hoped he’d bang her senseless right then and there, but she knew in her heart he was one to savor the moment. He picked her up then once again, he tossed her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing at all. He carried her away, heading for some lair he’d obviously already prepared.

Shara couldn’t wait to get there.

* * *

Bastard.

Jared’s determination to get even with Damon redoubled. At least he was partly on the ground now, if still tangled in the net. He managed to get the jack knife out of his pocket, then wriggled around until it was in his hands. He opened it, and with some effort, cut the cable tie.

After that, it was easy to get out of the net.

It was also pretty easy to see which way Mr. Control had gone. Jared removed the rope that had held the net high above the ground and coiled it up, planning how he was going to put it to use again.