A Lovely Confession (Debt of Passion Duet Book 2)

by Coralee June

  My feet moved fast, pounding the tiled floor as I ran out of the gym and down the stairs to the entryway. I couldn’t pick out any specific, individual voices. My feet shook as I moved. Drowning in anxiety, I didn’t stop until I was running into the commotion. “Whoa, whoa,” a tall man said as I collided with a hard chest. I looked up and stared at a man that was splattered with blood. “Slow down,” he growled before wiping his forehead with the edge of his sleeve.

  It looked like a war zone. Bodies entered the immaculate foyer, covered in blood. A few of them were limping. There was a too-still body lying on the tile in the far corner that I knew in my twisted, paranoid gut was dead with a capital D. Luckily, he had brown hair, so I surmised that it wasn’t Hunter.

  Sunshine was fluttering around, dividing people up by injury, with Gavriel at her side. The other men I met when I first visited with Gavriel strolled in, looking disheveled and annoyed. The moment she saw them, Sunshine let out a sigh of relief and wrapped them both in a hug before quickly unbuckling the blond’s belt and using the thin leather strap as a tourniquet on a man bleeding out. Damn, she was a pro at this.

  “Hunter?” I called out while picking through the various men, searching their faces for him. “Hunter?”

  Someone else walked through the front door, Blaise. “Honey, I’m home,” he shouted, obviously uncaring about the chaos going on. It really felt like soldiers coming back from war. Unlike everyone else, Blaise looked like he just got back from an afternoon stroll in the park. Not a gelled piece of hair was out of place, and he still wore his aviator sunglasses, with a smile on his face. Sunshine immediately went to him for a quick hug before returning to the writhing man on the floor.

  I had just started to push through the crowd to get to the front door and ask Blaise if he had seen Hunter, when a second slumped body stepped through the threshold. My heart swore immediately. I knew who it was, despite the large blooming bruise on his forehead the size of a golf ball. Dried blood covered his swollen face, too. He staggered inside and searched the room, and I got the sense he was seeking me out just as I was looking for him. Our eyes collided, and it felt like the entire fucking world stopped spinning.

  “Pretty Debt,” he mouthed.

  “Stalker,” I mouthed back.

  The broken men surrounding me slowed. Their groans of pain dimmed at the site of Hunter. My heart beat three achingly slow times as I stood there in a trance. A body bumped into me. Blood splattered on my calf. It was a brief, fleeting moment of relief—but it was ours. I savored it, I treasured it, and then I immediately jumped into helping Sunshine.

  “This man is about to bleed out,” I said.

  “I’ve got a team of doctors that’ll be here in five minutes. They’ve been on standby,” Gavriel yelled over the noise. He had his phone stuck to his ear and was barking orders to whoever was on the other end of the line. “I want the cleanup crew to get rid of every body left on that scene. I don’t want anyone linking it to me. If there is a single hair or drop of blood left behind, I’ll personally cut your balls off.” My brows rose at his threat.

  “Hunter?” Gavriel then called. “On a scale of one to getting captured by Bloomington’s men, how capable are you of making the mayor’s body disappear?” the mob boss growled. Hunter exchanged a longing look with me before answering the angry Bullet leader. I knew what he wanted because I wanted a reunion too, but there was too much shit going on.

  “I’m on it,” he replied before following Callum outside.

  “You,” Gavriel said while pointing at Blaise. “Make every single bullet-holed vehicle parked in my underground garage disappear. Take it to Josi’s junkyard. They don’t ask questions.”

  “On it,” Blaise pouted before blowing Sunshine a kiss.

  On and on and on it went. Gavriel took control of the situation like he’d been doing it his entire life. I guess, in many ways, he had. He was born for this. If anything, this entire situation made me realize how unfit Hunter really was for the Bullet life. This wasn’t him. The more I saw of the Bullets, I knew that on the surface he seemed like a perfect fit. Protective and kind. Brutal. Demanding. Smart, hardened by his past, and assessing, but also gentle when he wanted to be. I wasn’t disillusioned about what he was capable of. But this life was chaotic. He needed the calm seclusion of Joshua Tree. He thrived in simplicity. I’d seen the evidence of it. This wasn’t his life. Hunter wasn’t a Bullet. Not really.

  I stood there and helped where I could, eager to help while thinking, what now? We were safe, Bloomington was dead, Hunter looked okay, and Mack was stable. I pushed myself to be busy assisting Sunshine, because the alternative was thinking about my reunion with Hunter. I couldn’t help but wonder if all of this would end with goodbye.

  Lovely

  Waiting lips like lovely little dips of your hands.

  I patiently admire the way you always have me at the edge of my seat.

  I realized long ago that waiting doesn’t feel like waiting when it’s for someone you love.

  I also realized that love isn’t as cruel as everyone thinks.

  It takes work. It takes grit and forgiveness and grace and patience and…

  Waiting lips.

  “You’re still up,” Hunter said while slipping into my hotel room. I spent the afternoon mopping up blood on the Moretti foyer. I snuck away for dinner with Mack at the hospital and had been staring at the ceiling of my hotel room for the last hour. I didn’t want to stay at Gavriel’s home. Two men died there today, and it felt too familiar and triggering for me. I had grown a lot, fueled by the truth, but it didn’t mean I felt like opening myself up to the fresh ghosts now living there.

  “You’re still alive,” I croaked, emotion bubbling up my throat. He slipped under the covers and enveloped me in a hug. Pressing my head to his cheek, I breathed in his woodsy scent and grounded myself in the fact that he was here. He survived.

  “Takes more than that to kill me,” Hunter said. His tone sounded forced and playful all at the same time. We both knew this was a close call. He was lucky to be alive.

  I looked up at his face, wincing at the golf ball sized bump there. “That looks awful.”

  “Some asshole kicked me.” I reached up and hovered my fingers over the swollen wound. “Gavriel fired me today. He said I single-handedly started a war, and I should go back to Joshua Tree.”

  My mouth dropped open in shock. What? Did that mean… “You’re free,” I whispered in awe.

  “I’m no longer an assassin,” Hunter stated. He spoke as if the concept were foreign to him.

  “What are you going to do?” Part of me wanted to know if he planned on going back to Joshua Tree, but most of me wanted to know if his plans would include me.

  “I’m not sure,” Hunter replied. “I guess that’s something we should talk about.”

  I guess it was a good sign that he wanted to discuss it with me. Did this mean he wanted… I tried not to hope. “Is this the part where we have the what now conversation? It’s been a long day. I’m not sure I can handle you deciding that it’s better to leave me—or even worse—having a define the relationship talk,” I murmured while closing my eyes. I couldn’t handle the disappointment. Now that the danger was gone, would Hunter be willing to push past his bullshit and allow himself to love me?

  “You’re mine, Roe Palmer,” Hunter replied. “I’m not going to risk another second without you in my life. Another moment. Another—”

  My heart fucking soared. My chest swelled with a foreign sort of happiness I had buried down long ago when he first left me. “Hunter?” I interrupted. I was feeling bold. And I fucking wanted him. I didn’t want him to make any plans or promises just yet. Things were still raw, and we had a lot to discuss. Just knowing that he wanted me in his life was enough for now. We could work out the details when things weren’t as raw. “How about you show me what this thing between us is instead of telling me?”

  “So impatient,” he teased. “And yes, I plan on doing
that. But first…” his voice trailed off, and he threaded his fingers through mine before kissing the back of my hand. “I love you. If I’m being honest, I’ve always loved a version of you. That love evolved and changed over time. I loved the innocent baby that made me feel like I could fix the sins of my parents. I loved the growing girl that had survived such a tragic childhood. I loved the teen girl that rolled with the punches and demanded answers from me. And I love the woman that didn’t give up on me. I love the woman that tracked me down and demanded better of me. I love the woman willing to forgive me.”

  Willing was right. I wasn’t quite there yet, but I also wasn’t pushing him away either. I understood him. I also understood that I’d want Hunter forever. If I wanted a shot at happiness, I’d have to work through this grief. He was willing to help me walk through the trenches of that sadness, and even if he caused the fire in my soul, I knew he was the only person capable of helping me put it out.

  His voice choked up, and I swallowed his emotion with a kiss. He responded to the feel of my lips in a devouring sort of way. We both tangled our tongues and our doubts up in a pretty little knot, then drowned in the sweet taste of our love. I kissed down his neck, stripped him out of his shirt, then groped for his cock. I didn’t want to waste any more time. He dug his fingers in my hair before pressing me into the mattress, and I felt secure under his weight. “You smell so sweet, Pretty Debt,” he whispered. The tiny pulse between my legs throbbed, and arousal painted my inner thighs with molten heat. He slid his hand lower and lower, grazing my breasts, circling my navel, then dipping inside my panties. I was breathing hard. So fucking hard. Panting. Sighing. I wanted. I craved. I ached.

  He wrapped his free hand around me and squeezed me, pulling me hard against him while his other hand continued to tease my cunt. Hunter rubbed his middle finger over my clit in small, slow, teasing, miserably leisurely circles. Neither of us talked for a long while. We let our bodies move with the melody of our hopes and gratitude. It was just us. The truth was out. There was nothing left to say.

  He rubbed faster, making me gasp and whimper. My nipples pebbled; the hard little points poked through my bra. I needed something more. Something only Hunter could give me. I craved his solid dick pulsing inside of me. But not yet. My stalker would make this moment last. Everything he did was with intention, and this would be no different.

  My clit continued to pulse at his command, and I felt my orgasm climb that summit. I wanted for him to make me scream and come, and for us to submerge one another in everything we’d been denying ourselves. I wanted to be breathless in an endless cycle of pleasure and reassurance. I stroked his cock with my trembling hand as he lavished my mouth with more kisses. His scruffy beard created a harsh and unforgiving friction against my cheek. I could feel him everywhere. And still I wanted more.

  He broke our kiss to speak to me. “Do you feel that?” he asked. The thick, hard ridge of his cock nudged my palm, making me groan. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

  I came at his words, bursting with bright, blinding bliss all over his hand. He was relentless, drawing out every ounce of pleasure with his middle finger. Rhythmic, tantric, he demanded an orgasm from me, and I was helpless to deny him.

  Within seconds, we were both stripping out of our clothes, baring ourselves to one another completely. He hovered over me with while sucking on his finger, moaning and groaning and licking up my cum like it was fucking honey. “You’re so fucking sweet,” he promised. I lifted up to bite his cheek, drawing his attention back to me. My heart practically jumped out of my chest as he moved over me, taking my lips once more.

  The heat of his tongue sent buzzing sensations right between my legs. I cried out, but it disappeared in his mouth. I tried to taste myself on his tongue, but it was all him. “Fuck,” I groaned between kisses. I slid my hands up and took the back of his neck to lock him closer to me. I never wanted this to end. My blood was rushing under my flushed skin. “Fuck me,” I begged.

  Hunter positioned himself at my entrance. “Your sweet, tight pussy was made for my cock, Roe.”

  He slid inside of me with a groan. The invasion of him was hot and full. I gasped and arched my back to allow him deeper. Thighs parted, bodies molded perfectly together. He thrust again and again, harder and harder. All I could do was fall back and take what he had to give me. Take the man that challenged me. Hurt me. Broke me. Then loved me.

  And when we came, it was fucking perfection. I wanted him again and again.

  My lovely obsession.

  ROE

  October Fourth

  The dry desert air brushed against my cheeks as I bent over to blow out the candle on my cake. It felt like my entire life had been building up to this moment. I inhaled and tried to think of a wish, the birthday magic held captive in my lungs.

  I didn’t know how my life could get any more perfect. I had a quiet life full of poetry and love. I had friends. I had him.

  I blew out the lone candle and wished for nothing new, just held hope that my life would stay this way. I’d grown into quite the optimist over the last year but couldn’t help clinging to the wish that this would be the life I lived forever.

  “Happy birthday, Roe!” everyone screamed. Luna was fist pumping the air and drinking something strong from a shot glass. Butterfly was praying and looking up at the moon, a serene glow on her face. Nicole was popping her ass in celebration to the low music playing from our jukebox. Roxanne just clapped politely.

  Dad looked on, his eyes swimming in tears. He was proud of how far we’d come. He visited once every other month and was looking at moving closer. I guess he was finally ready to retire.

  “What did you wish for?” Hunter whispered, his lips hovering over the shell of my ear. His arms were wrapped around my bare middle, and I caught him glancing down my black crop top from over my shoulder. There was one word that best described us: insatiable. Having one another didn’t make our obsession end, it made it bloom.

  “This,” I croaked. “I want this forever.”

  Hunter shuddered behind me, moved by my words. I knew he wanted this forever, too. “Go sit down. I’ll cut the cheesecake.”

  We decided to keep with the housewarming tradition for my first official birthday celebration since Mom’s death. “Okay,” I beamed.

  Hunter and I had a tiny house built on the plot of land where his airstream was. It was eight hundred square feet and overlooked the mountains. The kitchen had a subway tile backsplash. Our sofa was the same color as the setting sun, and the sheets on our bed were rarely made up—mostly because we messed them up all the time. Hunter built a large wrap-around porch that fit a long enough dining room table to seat all the people we cared about when they visited. It was a simple life. We built it from the ground up. We lived cheaply, worked in the sun, and loved by the moon.

  I guess I had become a little bit of a hippie since moving here.

  Hunter worked at the compound, raising the horses and leading trail rides. I wrote poetry and shared it online. I’d actually grown quite a large following on Instagram and was currently in talks with some publishers.

  “It’s so freaking quiet out here,” Nicole said while rolling her neck.

  “She lives six months in the city and is already complaining when it’s quiet,” I replied with a laugh. Nicole took Sunshine up on her job offer, surprisingly. Now, she was getting her MBA online while running one of the most successful underground clubs in the country.

  “I wanna visit your club, Nicole,” Luna jumped in.

  Butterfly chuckled. “Count me in too. Let’s take a girls’ trip to New York!”

  “Maybe my father will shut the compound down for a weekend so we all can go,” Roxanne said breezily. She and I only got along when we drank, but most of our gatherings involved alcohol, so it worked.

  “That sounds awesome. I miss Sunshine,” I replied.

  Hunter growled at my back while placing my plate of cheesecake in front of me.
I twisted to stare at him. “What’s wrong, Stalker?”

  “I’d have to come with you. I’d be a miserable, jealous fuck if you went to a sex club without me.”

  “Only if you put on a show, Lover Boy,” Luna laughed, making everyone else join in.

  Dad looked like he wanted to exit the conversation and fly back to New York. The look of pure discomfort on his face made me laugh.

  “Everyone dig in!” Hunter shouted over the commotion, albeit a bit nervously. I directed my attention to the cheesecake in front of me and gasped at what I saw there. Sitting on top of the dessert was a ring. A motherfucking ring! It had a gold band with a black onyx pear-shaped stone on top. A halo of diamonds surrounded the centerpiece, creating a dramatic effect I loved.

  “Roe?” Hunter asked. I spun around on my bench to find him kneeling before me. He grabbed my hands and peered up at me with his icy blue eyes.

  “I’ve loved you for twenty-four years. You’ve seen me at my worst. You’ve loved me through the hurt. You took a chance on a life with me here in Joshua Tree. We’ve built a home together. Built a…” Hunter paused to quickly glance around at everyone and back at me. “A family, Roe. We have a family.”

  He choked up on that part. I did too. At the end of the day, both of us were broken people seeking consistency in the world from people who cared. We now had that in spades.

  “You’re my heart. My everything. You taught me to let my damage breathe. You ripped open my wounds and let truth and forgiveness flow through. You helped me let go of the past and gave me a future I’m unworthy of but am extremely thankful for. Please, Roe Palmer, will you marry me?”

  I leaned forward awkwardly to wrap my hands around him and cry into his neck. I loved him so fucking much.

  “Yes, Stalker. I’ll marry the fuck out of you,” I rasped.