So I signed up.
I made a profile.
…and then I got a match.
That’s as far as it went. I was never going to meet the guy I matched with—I think the whole thing was more an experiment for me than anything. Regardless, the day he asked me to meet, our conversation in the app was randomly deleted, my profile got blocked, and then my account was put under review.
A small part of me suspects Roman might have had something to do with that. But he’s never brought it up.
ThankGod. Because I’d literally die of mortification if my bother talked to me about my online conversations with a stranger involving dark, depraved…well, I don’t even know if they'refantasies. More things I’d read about in books or online that felt…thrilling.
“Sweet, innocent Evie,” Bianca grins.
I groan. “C’mon, I just haven’t had enough coffee yet. My mind’s slow.”
Melina gives me a “yeah, right” look. We both know I didn’t get the joke because I’m a complete dork when it comes to sex at all, let alone sex that involves beingchased down.
I shiver.
I mean,what?
“Well, little miss primal play,” Bianca giggles, eyeing Milena, “get your freak on now, before you’re too tired even to bathe yourself after the baby comes.”
I laugh along with the rest of them. Inside, a different question is creeping through my thoughts.
What on Earth is primal play?
7
EVELINA
Primal play refers to the exploration of raw, instinctive, animalistic behaviors in sexual situations, often involving hunter/prey dynamics, chasing, growling, and psychological intensity.
Oh my.
Sitting on a bench on the Knightsblood campus, my eyes widen as I reread the definition on my phone. I’ve spent the last couple of days trying to put the question out of my mind. But it’s still been there in the background.
Lingering.
Lurking.
With a shiver, I glance up, nervously eyeing the older gentleman sitting on a bench across the small square from me, on the other side of an ivy-covered statue of one of the founders of the college.
He’s just a professor here, dummy. Not a mind-reader interested in your dirty internet searches.
Exhaling, I glance back at my phone. A tingle chases up my spine and my thighs press together when I read the definition of primal play again. Instantly, I’m back in the woods up on Griswold Hill.
Heart racing.
Pulse thudding.
Body tightening and electrified with a sense of fight or flight, a hand wrapped around my throat, pinned roughly to a tree.
“Evelina?”
I almost drop my phone. My eyes snap up, and my brows knit as I find myself looking at the familiar but unplaceable brunette standing in front of me with a puzzled look on her face that mirrors my own.
“Evelina Nikitin…right?”
