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Visions (Cainsville 2)

Page 97

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"Work?"

"We're out here to enjoy the night, aren't we?"

A predatory edge in his smile set my pulse racing. "That's what I'm trying to do."

"And you will." I moved into the forest. "After we take a walk."

"Pretty sure I don't want to walk anymore."

"Then you'll have to convince me you have something better in mind. But first . . ." I ducked around a tree. "You have to catch me."

His grin then was nearly blinding as he lunged at me. I whipped around and tore into the forest.

--

The woods were too thick here for actual running, so it was more hide-and-seek, which would have worked so much better if Ricky hadn't moved through the forest like a damned guerrilla sniper. After he nearly caught me a third time, I checked to make sure he hadn't put on moccasins and night-vision goggles.

"How the hell can you see me?" I said as we circled a huge oak.

"You're right there."

"Hiding. Behind a tree."

"Not very well."

He lunged. I zipped around the tree.

"This game would be much more fun if you weren't so freaking good at it," I said as I stayed out of reach.

"Oh, I still think it's plenty fun."

He lunged again, and I took off, dodging trees and jumping logs. I looked for clearer ground, where I'd have an advantage. Ahead, moonlight streamed through a break in the tree cover. I ran for it. Then I glimpsed a shadow . . . in front of me. I stopped short. A flash of blond hair told me the shadow was Ricky before he disappeared behind a tree.

"How the hell do you do that?" I muttered.

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He only chuckled.

"You have the home turf advantage," I said, turning toward the source of that chuckle. "You know the shortcuts. I'm probably running in circles."

"Maybe." His voice came from behind me now and I wheeled, catching a flash of bare chest before he backed off, attack averted.

He went silent then. I pivoted slowly, trying to catch a crackle of dead leaves or snap of a twig. But all I heard was the sigh of the wind and rustle of leaves. I knew he was there, though, circling me, watching for an opening, and as soon as he had it, if I didn't notice in time to escape . . .

Heat shot through me. Of course, the obvious answer would be to not escape. Let him catch me. Get what I wanted. But the point of the game was that building anticipation, which was damned sweet.

As I turned, searching, I swore I could sense him circling, catch the glitter of his eyes through the trees, hear his breathing, coming faster now, the slight catch of it as he . . .

I wheeled to see him right behind me, midpounce. He snagged my belt loop and yanked me back, his free hand going around my waist, blazing hot against my cold skin, raising goose bumps as he pulled me to him.

I broke free and danced away. He chuckled, the sound reverberating through me, heat rising in its wake.

"Close," he said.

"But not close enough."

I ran. I headed straight for the clearing, hoping it would be bigger than it looked and give me time to run on open ground. I was dashing into it when Ricky called, "No! Don't!"



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