by Shandi Boyes
“No, Paige.” Hunter shakes his head.
Confusion swamps me.
“I wanted to fuck you. So I used Charlie as my way in,” he clarifies, his voice stern. “I wanted to fuck you from the very first day I spotted you.”
I’m shocked, not just from the crudeness of his reply, but from his admission as well. To be honest, I don’t know whether to be pissed or happy.
“So everything, Charlie, fixing my laptop, the app, the gifts, was all because you wanted to get into my panties?” I ask, my tone a cross between curious and astounded.
If his sole purpose was to get me between the sheets, why didn’t he take advantage of the opportunity last night?
He swallows before turning his eyes back to me. “Charlie was a ploy. The rest was me. I like you, Paige. The stuff I’ve given you is because I wanted to. Not because I want to fuck you.”
His statement should bristle my spikes, but they aren't. Because he didn't say he wanted to fuck me. He said he wants to fuck me.
My happiness doesn’t last long when he mutters, “But what happened last night won’t happen again. I was supposed to show you the connection your characters should feel. To explain the dynamic, not do it. I took it too far.”
“No, you didn’t,” I argue, my voice bellowing through the thick stench of awkwardness plaguing the air between us. “You didn’t even touch me.” Technically, I was the only one doing the touching.
Hunter’s face lines with anger. “Oh, but I fucking wanted to,” he mutters under his breath.
After firming his grip on the steering wheel, he turns his hardhearted eyes to me. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to walk away last night? Seeing the way your eyes spark, and your lips part when you're about to come? It fucking killed me walking away.”
“Then why did you?” I reply, both angry and confused. Angry for the way I felt when he walked out without a word escaping his lips, and confused as to why he keeps fighting this unique draw we have toward each other.
“Because a girl like you doesn’t belong with a man like me!” he yells, his angry roar rumbling through my heaving chest.
I laugh in disbelief, a crazy cackle that exposes my nuttiness. “Are you seriously giving me that line after spending weeks telling me how I should never let another person’s opinion alter my own?”
“It’s not a line, Paige. It's the truth. I have nothing to offer you.”
“Bullshit, Hunter. You blew my mind last night. Made me achieve something I’ve never done before.”
“As you said earlier, that was all you, Paige. I didn’t touch you,” he interrupts, his voice a vicious snarl, full of maliciousness that maims my heart.
My back molars smash together. “Oh. Okay. I guess my opinion on you has changed,” I retaliate, swinging open the passenger door of his car with brutal strength, forcing him to slam on his brakes halfway down his gravel driveway. “Because here I was thinking you were a smart man. Obviously, you're more stupid than I initially perceived.”
I grit my teeth, suffocating a squeal when he snarls, “And quick-witted Paige finally clicks on.”
“Fuck you, Hunter,” I snarl, curling out of his car.
Slamming his door shut, I storm toward the back deck of my rented cabin. Hot, salty tears are threatening to spill down my face at any moment, the only thing keeping them at bay is the potent rage of anger boiling my blood. My frenzied pace falters when gravel crunching under feet sounds through my ears as Hunter chases to catch up with me.
"You saw how many women I've fucked, Paige! You witnessed it firsthand, yet it still isn't enough to scare you away from me," he shouts, his angry roar easily heard over the crashing of waves in the distance. "Then what the fuck will it take?"
“You don’t need to ask for help, asswipe! You’re doing a stellar job right now!” I retort as I continue with my brisk pace, not bothering to turn around and face him. “You want to scare me away? Guess what, you have!”
Willing myself not to cry, I rush into the cabin. I grab everything and anything I can get hold of before shoving it into my half-packed suitcase. My movements are chaotic and filled with devastation. Once I have my clothing packed, I drag my suitcase into the small living area. I don't need to lift my eyes to know Hunter is present; I can both sense and smell him.
“Where are you going?” he asks, his voice gruff.
I place my suitcase next to the entranceway table before locking my tear-glistening eyes with his. His face is stern and lined with anger, but his eyes give away his true self. They are full of worry.
“I can’t do this anymore, Hunter. You keep drawing me in, then pushing me away in the same breath. You need to either let me in or let me go,” I plead, my heart cracking along with my voice.
His stern mask momentarily slips, revealing a flicker of panic he rarely exposes. I hold his gaze, ensuring he's aware my words aren't an idle threat. I can't keep doing this pulling and pushing routine of the past four weeks. It's exhausting, and I'm burned out.
“Do you feel anything for me?” My heart hammers against my ribs. “Anything at all?”
His jaw muscle ticks when he begins to speak. “Of course I do, you're my friend—”
“Stop giving me the stupid fucking friends line,” I interrupt, my voice rising in anger. “You know as well as I do that you're using it as a barrier between us because you're too scared to admit your true feelings.”
My firm stance eases when anger floods Hunter's eyes. He glares at me, issuing me the same threatening stare he gave me during my last round of interrogations. But even with my heart hammering against my ribs, I maintain a strong front, pretending his ardent glare isn't affecting me. In reality, he’s causing a sick feeling to spread through my stomach.
When the dense stretch of silence passing between us becomes too suffocating to ignore, I spin on my heels and gather my suitcase. My steps are frantic and rushed as I battle to hold in the tears threatening to spill down my face.
Hunter has openly expressed on numerous occasions that he hates talking about himself, but now is different. This weekend shifted our relationship out of the friendship zone, and I'm no longer willing to hide my feelings. I did it for years with Riley; I refuse to do it with Hunter.
The scent of Hunter's indistinguishable smell hits my senses the closer I get to him. My steps are hurried, wanting to escape the room that's shrinking by the minute. My chin quivers when I dip it in farewell as I race to the door. I need some privacy before I allow my tears to fall.
Just as I hit the edge of the patio door, Hunter catches my wrists. A whimper scuttles from my lips when he pushes in close to me, pinning me to the wall with his imposing body. I go from steaming in anger to frozen with desire in seconds from being trapped by six feet of pure man.
Hunter’s eyes are wide, his nostrils flaring, and his whole composure screams of nothing but fury. But instead of being unnerved by his intimidating stance, I'm excited and incredibly turned on. My breasts are heavy; my clit is throbbing, matching the mad beat of my heart, and my body is acutely aware of every inch of him pressed up against me. I’m not the only one aroused by our closeness. Hunter’s cock is thick and hard against my stomach.
"Do you have any idea what you're fucking doing to me?" he hisses, the hotness of his breath adding to the intense heat radiating from my cheeks. "You've sent me into such a tailspin, I can't even think straight anymore. I fucked up at my job as I was too fixated on you, yet you feel the need to ask if I have feelings for you. I can't breathe, sleep or eat without thinking about you. You're driving me fucking crazy."
"Good. It's about time you joined the crazy club because I've been here for weeks." My words come out fast, spurred on by the desire to unravel him, to force him to finally admit the undeniable connection between us.
“I’ve been there from the fucking start, Paige. From the moment I saw you.” He steps in closer, pinning me more firmly to the wall. I feel the surge of his pulse streaming through his body thro
ugh his hands clamped around my wrists. “The instant I saw you, I wanted you. The way the moonlight caught your hair, your smooth, soft skin, your beautiful face. I wanted it all.”
My breaths come out in ragged pants, my chest not able to fully expand with how close he's standing. “Then why did you throw down the friends card? Why have you kept me at arm’s length?”
“Because I knew you’d ruin me,” he mutters, his words hurried.
My pupils widen, and shock spreads across my face.
“For over ten years I’ve kept everyone at arm’s length. I tried to do that to you as well. For weeks I kept my distance, but the pull became too great. It became too much.”
I nod in full agreement. Even shocked beyond hell at how quickly my feelings have developed for Hunter, I can’t deny the draw between us. We are magnetized to one another.
He stares at me, his gaze smoldering with lust and anger. “I don’t just want to feel you, taste you and have you beneath me, Paige. I want to have all of you.”
“Then have me,” I mumble, unable to understand why he's holding back.
He angrily shakes his head. “That’s not me, Paige. I don’t want a relationship. I’ve never wanted that.”
“That’s because you hadn’t met me.” My voice is low, overcome by the barrage of emotions barreling into me. “I want you to touch me, feel me, taste every single inch of me, Hunter. I want you to have all of me.”
Incapable of moving my arms since he has my wrists pinned at my side, I flex out my chest, urging him even closer to me, giving him that final push. A brutal grunt escapes his lips when my budded nipples crash into his firm pecs, and his tightness around my wrists firms. I moan, incredibly turned on by the roughness of his hold. Hearing my shameful response, the anger lining Hunter's face lessens, and a new glint brightens his eyes. As though he could find any more space between us, he leans in even closer.
“Don’t destroy me, Paige.” His hot breath fans my inflamed cheeks.
“Never.” My voice is shaky, shocked he’d ever think I’d hurt him – while also wondering who already has.
His eyes search my face, seeking any untruth. When he fails to locate any deceit, he slowly and possessively seals his lips over mine. I gasp out the word, “Finally,” when his tongue delves into my mouth, stepping over the friendship line he drew in the sand weeks ago.
The roughness of his beard on my face is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, but it heightens my excitement, adding even more giddiness to his heart-twisting kiss. The inside of his mouth has the same citrus freshness of his lips, a scrumptious mix of flavor and heat.
He relinquishes my wrists from his rigid grip to band his arms around my waist, drawing me in nearer. Every nerve in my body is sent into a haywire, incapable of grasping what to do first. I want to run my fingers through his thick mane; I want to nibble on his lips. I want to grind against the thickness of his cock rubbing the seam of my panties as he holds me against the wall, devouring every inch of my mouth in perfect, lengthened strokes. There are too many choices, and my mind is fritzed on which item to select first.
Why can’t I do them all?
So I do exactly that. I run my fingers through his hair, securing his mouth to mine so I can nibble on his delicious tangy lips while I grind my throbbing pussy on the impressive thickness in his jeans. When he tries to pull away, I hold on, refusing to relinquish his mouth from mine. It's taken him this long to revoke the friendship card he issued, and I haven't had nearly enough time to ensure he never wants to use it again.
"I want you in bed so I can take my time with you," Hunter mutters against my lips. "Screaming my name in a place where no one else will hear it."
My nipples bud even harder as a needy moan topples from my lips. “My bed, not yours.” I suck his bottom lip into my mouth. He can’t dress me and walk me to the door if it isn’t his house.
He's pacing through the living room of my cabin before I even realize he's moving, too engrossed with sampling every inch of his mouth to maintain rational thoughts. Just like he made himself at home in my kitchen and living area the past few weeks, he enters the main bedroom of the cabin, not needing to ask for directions.
The thick duvet cover on my bed feels cold against my feverish skin when Hunter places me down on the edge. A cringe crosses my face when I catch my reflection in the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. My hair is mussed from his large hand tugging it during our kiss; my lips are swollen and red, and my pupils are wide and heavily dilated. But even looking the most frazzled I've ever been, I also feel incredibly desirable. That probably has something to do with the way his dark, possessive eyes are scanning my face, adding to the thickness his jeans are failing to conceal.
“You shouldn’t let me touch you,” he mutters, his voice deep and raspy. “I shouldn’t be allowed to fucking touch you.”
My breathing sharpens, panicked he hates what he's seeing. My hands dart up to my hair, vainly trying to smooth the frazzled pieces into manageable locks.
“You're fucking beautiful, Paige. Don’t ever doubt it,” Hunter snarls, his tone a stern warning.
“Then why did you say that? Why would you say that?” My eyes bounce between his.
“Because if I get one taste of you, I’ll never let you go.” His voice is low and full of worry. “You don’t need a man like me, Paige. You deserve someone better than me.”
“What are you saying? I need a man in a suit, clean shaven, and with no tattoos?”
My teeth grit when he nods.
“Been there. Done that,” I snap, my tone brittle like cracked glass. “Didn’t make him any better of a man.”
His murky blue eyes flash, and his nostrils flare as jealousy swamps him. The raging beat of my heart accelerates when he removes his gun from the back of his trousers and places it onto the table at his right. His eyes scorch into mine as his fingers make quick work of the buttons on his red and black plaid shirt. The wetness between my legs multiplies when the smooth ridges of his torso become exposed, closely followed by the bumps of his stomach. I moan, a needy, raspy groan when his shirt falls off his shoulders, puddling around his boot-covered feet.
I lick my lips as he steps toward me, my eyes devouring the way his muscles move and flex with every long stride he takes. When he reaches the end of the bed, I glide my eyes from the band of his jeans to his vehement gaze.
“I warned you.” He stares straight into my eyes.
I nod. “And I didn’t listen. Lucky you seem to like my defiance.”
A ghost of a smile sneaks out from behind his beard. “I like you any way I can get you,” he barely mutters, clasping my hand in his and hoisting me off the bed.
“Lucky me. Cause I don’t like you at all,” I jest, my eyes dancing between his amused gaze.
The laughter spilling from Hunter's mouth simmers when I grip his erect crotch and squeeze it in my hand. "This, on the contrary. I think I could really like this.”
His lips quirk. "Nah. That won’t happen anytime soon."
I stare at him with alarm on my face. I thought with the removal of his shirt I was making headway in my endeavor to have him stepping over the friendship line. Now, I’m not so sure my ploy is working.
Any concerns about my lack of seduction vanish when Hunter says, "You won’t like it. You’ll love my cock by the time I’m finished with you.”
Chapter Eighteen
Just like the carefree Paige who only emerges in Hunter's presence, a new, unstiffened Paige surfaces in the bedroom as well. It might have something to do with the way his eyes devour every inch of my skin as he removes my shirt. Or how he loosens the elastic holding my hair to let my wavy hair spring free. Or the fact the thickness in his jeans seems to be getting larger with every second that passes as he wrangles my skin-tight jeans down my quivering thighs.
Whatever it is, I'm loving the newly-found, relaxed Paige. For the first time, I feel sultry and desired. I'd even go as far as saying I feel sexy.
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The heat of Hunter's breath adds to the misting of sweat on my skin when he stands from his crouched position, stopping at several intimate spots on the way to press a kiss or a soft nip on my heated, aching skin. Just like last night, he moves to stand behind me, pressing his body firmly to mine, engulfing me in his hot, manly heat.
Shivers rack my body when the bristles of his beard drag down my neck before his teeth sink into my shoulder blade. A rush of excitement surges through my blood when his tongue lavishes the spot, soothing my skin and adding to my lightheadedness. His hand grips my neck, securing my body to his while the other one curls around my chest to cup my breast, teasing and caressing my nipple until it puckers.
A swell of desire pummels into me when Hunter says, “I love your fucking tits, Paige. I knew they would be ten out of ten. Can’t wait to see my cum smeared all over them.”
His clever fingers work me into a frenzy, while his crass words add to the dampness of my panties. As his lips pay devoted attention to my neck, his hand moves away from my breast to follow the path he guided mine down in the hotel last night. Goosebumps follow the trail his hands make over the small swell of my breasts, down the smooth plains of my stomach before stopping at my aching-with-desire pussy.
A hiss of air parts Hunter’s lips when his fingers run over the dampness of my panties, tightening my core with every soft stroke he makes. My nails bend as I secure a rigid hold of his thighs when he slips his hand inside my panties, breaking through the small cotton barrier between us.
"You're so fucking wet.” He rolls his hips so his thick cock grinds into my backside. "Are you dying to feel this, taste it, fuck it.”
Unashamedly, I nod. “Yes. So what’s taking you so long?”
The prickles of his beard scratch my neckline when he smiles at my eagerness. “In time, Paige.” He slides his finger inside me in a slow, unbridled thrust. “First, I'm going to make you come like you did last night, but I’ll use my hands this time. Then, I’ll make you come again… on my face.”