Guts & Glory: Hunter (In the Shadows Security Book 3)

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Guts & Glory: Hunter (In the Shadows Security Book 3) Page 19

by Jeanne St. James


  Steel turned back around, his brows raised. Hunter held out his hand and they clasped arms, Hunter’s hand by Steel’s elbow, Steel’s by his. “Gotta thank you for stepping into my place for three days when I headed to Lancaster. Gotta thank you for showing up so quickly just now.”

  Steel stared at him for a second, squeezing Hunter’s forearm. “Always got your back, just like you got mine. And that place I stepped into wasn’t yours at the time. Seems it is now.” Steel grinned and released his arm. “You’re fucked. Gonna go get on Adam & Eve’s website and order you a cock cage. Extra small, right?” He spun on his heels as he laughed, then disappeared around the side of the house.

  Hunter dropped his head and stared at his boots for a long moment. Sucking in a deep breath, he set his jaw and headed into the house.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “If you think I’m leaving this house, you are fucking crazy, woman. I’m staying. Deal with it. I’ll sleep on the fucking couch if you can’t handle us spending time together. That’s fine. It’ll be all business from here on out.” He gripped the back of his neck with his hand and twisted it back and forth. “Fuck!” he growled, then left her room, probably wanting to slam the door, but didn’t since Leo was sleeping.

  That was what he said. That was what he did.

  That being three nights ago after they had found a cat on the roof and not Taz.

  She let him stomp out and grabbed her tablet, attempting to read until she fell asleep, but she couldn’t do either.

  Because she wanted him in her bed. But she wasn’t going to invite him back.

  No fucking sir.

  She was already in deep and didn’t need to fall down that hole any further.

  This morning the rest of his team was heading back to Shadow Valley. She only knew that because last night over a late dinner, he mentioned it. But that was all he said. Instead of them having a conversation, he had one with Leo the rest of the meal.

  If he’d rather have a conversation with her three-year-old that was fine with her.

  Though, in truth, it wasn’t.

  Watching Leo’s face as he did his best to have a conversation with the man across the table from him, not only warmed her heart, it broke it.

  Leo would be devastated when Hunter left.

  Who was she kidding? So would she.

  And as tempted as she was to call him upstairs back to her bed for the nights he’d remain in Manning Grove, she resisted.

  But now it was a little after two a.m. and she laid in her bed wide awake, parts of her aching which shouldn’t be. Aching for a man she shouldn’t, either. She had two choices. Take matters into her own hands or succumb to her weakness and go downstairs.

  They had hardly said more than a few words to each other the last three days but what she wanted from him didn’t take words.

  She rolled over and yanked open her nightstand drawer.

  No, it took condoms.

  Condom. Singular. She only needed one.

  Afterward, she could come back upstairs sated and hopefully sleep until Leo woke her up.

  She grabbed a condom, slipped out of bed, tucked her wayward boobs back into her tank top but skipped her PJ shorts, which she had dropped to the floor before climbing in. And, after peeking in on Leo to make sure he was sleeping solidly, hoofed it down the steps in the dark in just her loose, sleeveless tank and panties.

  As she hit the bottom of the steps, she turned her head toward her living room and came to a stop.

  Hunter was sitting on the couch, not appearing to be sleeping.

  Oh no, because not only were his bare feet planted on the floor, but his knees were spread, his head tilted back resting on the back of the couch, and quite possibly his eyes were closed but she couldn’t tell because of the dark and distance.

  She held her breath as she took one step into her small living room, staring at why, even though his eyes were closed, she knew he wasn’t sleeping.

  His hand was wrapped around his erection, his boxers pushed halfway down his thighs. And he was pumping that hand at a rapid, but steady pace.

  Frankie released the breath she’d been holding, and the ragged rush of air sounded deafening in the otherwise quiet room.

  His hand stilled, his head turned, and his eyes opened.

  Frankie found herself frozen where she stood, her eyes holding his.

  She half expected him to release himself and yank up his boxers since he’d been caught.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, he stared at her and began to stroke again.

  And if that sight didn’t make her pussy throb, her nipples bead and her core heat up, nothing would.

  He tracked her as she moved deeper into the room, a trickle of wet slipping from her and dampening her panties even further. He kept sliding his fist up and down his cock as she stopped directly in front of him, not sure where to look first. His face with his eyelids heavy and mouth parted. The corded muscles bulging in his neck. The rise and fall of his tattooed bare chest, the gleam from his dog tags still visible in the limited light. The heavy muscles of his thighs contracting with each pull of his hand.

  Or his thick cock, circled by long fingers. Both of which she knew intimately and had done very wicked, glorious things to almost every part of her body.

  Which she hoped he was willing to use on her again.

  She stepped between his knees and licked her lips, wanting to taste the shiny crown of his cock, but thinking she might only have one shot at him, so she needed to go big or go home. Or, at least, back upstairs.

  She didn’t want to waste this time with him losing himself in her mouth instead of where she wanted him. She also didn’t want to watch him come with his fist, so she needed to act.

  But as she went to climb onto his lap, he stopped her with a palm between her breasts. “You don’t want me in your house or your bed, but you want to use me for your own pleasure.”

  He had released his cock and it bobbed between them. “Yes.” She didn’t care if that sounded selfish, because for once, she wanted to be selfish. She needed to be selfish.

  She needed the man on that couch. She needed him to do those wicked, glorious things to her.

  She just somehow had to coat her heart in Teflon, so her emotions remained detached from her desires. She didn’t know how that would work, but it needed to. Otherwise, coming downstairs was going to be a bigger mistake than letting him into her bed in the first place. She already had enough regrets in her life and she didn’t need more.

  But what happened next, she would not regret.

  At all.

  His hand that had been stroking his cock, tangled in her hair, fisted it, and yanked her head back so sharply she gasped. The fingers pressed to her chest curled into the worn cotton and he yanked her tank top so hard, her body shot forward, but the shirt still gave way with a tear, exposing her breasts.

  Keeping her neck arched sharply by using his grip in her hair, he leaned forward and bit the flesh right above her right nipple and she whimpered.

  Not gentle, but glorious.

  “Condom. Now.”

  Her fingers trembled as she tried to open the wrapper, making it take three attempts, but she got it open, then reached out blindly to find his twitching cock and roll it on.

  Her strained neck was starting to ache, her pussy was throbbing, and she could feel the slickness between her upper thighs. He sucked her left nipple into his mouth, his tongue circled the nub and flicking it.

  She tried to move forward, to mount him, but he held her in place with her hair.

  She whispered a throaty, “Hunter.” But he ignored her, instead switching nipples, sucking the one, tweaking the other with his fingers.

  Not gentle, not tender. Rough and raw like her whisper.

  He let her breast go and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her off balance, her hands finding his shoulders to keep from falling. She scrambled to straddle him, her knees digging into the couch cushions on both sides
of his spread thighs. Her legs were not nearly as long as his, so this position planted her soaked pussy along the hard line of his cock. Rocking his hips, he slid himself between her slick labia, his length brushing against her sensitive clit.

  Every one of her nerve endings was popping and hissing like a cut electric line, so she could come simply by what he was doing. He continued to thrust up, but not inside her, letting her ride his hard length. She ground against him, now chasing that orgasm. She wanted it.

  She needed it.

  And when she found it, he pressed his face into her arched neck, his teeth skimming along her stretched skin. She rode that climax to completion, still sliding him back and forth between her folds, her body twitching every time his cock brushed against her swollen clit.

  As soon as the last wave had waned, he hooked her under her thighs and lifted her, grunting, “Position me.”

  Grabbing his cock, she lined him up and when he let her thighs go, she settled on his lap, his cock filling her, stretching her, unable to go any deeper.

  A sigh escaped her. They hadn’t had sex for the last two nights and she never knew she’d miss it so damn much.

  Not sex in general. Sex with Hunter.

  His tongue followed the line of her throat and he sucked at the hollow, released her hair, dug his fingers into both of her ass cheeks and began to guide her up and down. He held tightly to her flesh, separating her cheeks, exposing her vulnerable spot. A spot he had touched, licked and teased but had gone no further with her.

  Would she let him if he tried tonight?

  She was afraid she was falling so deeply she’d say yes to anything.

  That wasn’t her. That wasn’t Frankie. She was not a woman who let a man control her. Not even Taz. If that man hadn’t caught her that day making arrangements to disappear, she would have been gone.

  But this wasn’t Taz, this wasn’t any other man. This was Hunter.

  This was a man who was sacrificing his time to help her and her son. This was a man who remained in a house which triggered his claustrophobia to help them.

  While she wanted to use him for her own needs, she wanted him to use her, too.

  Mutual satisfaction.

  So, if he wanted to go there, she’d do her best not to stop him.

  When his lips touched the spot where her neck met her shoulder, she braced for him to bite her. He didn’t, instead his breath puffed warmly against her heated skin. She held her own as his hands slid lower on her ass, his fingers finding where they were connected, one dipping in alongside his cock, an odd, but exhilarating, feeling. She ground down against his cock and finger, her forehead landing hard on his shoulder as she muffled a groan against his skin.

  He slid his finger back out and up along her crease until he stopped exactly where she knew he would, then without hesitation or even preparation, he thrust it inside.

  She sucked in a shaky breath as he plunged it in and out of her, in the opposite rhythm of his cock. Adding a second finger, he fucked both her pussy and her ass at the same time.

  Any and all thoughts dissipated like a chef throwing a handful of flour in the air.

  The sensations he was causing destroyed all rational thoughts.

  The tip of his tongue traced up her neck again, along her jaw and when he put his mouth to her ear and growled, “That pussy is mine, that ass is mine,” another orgasm ripped through her, causing her to clench down on his cock and fingers, causing her to lose her mind and hiss out a, “Yes.”

  Because if she had been in her right mind, she never would agree with his claiming of her. She was falling in love with him, but he would never own her.

  No man ever would.

  But for this moment, she allowed it. Allowed him to think what was hers was his.

  Because soon he would leave what he just claimed behind. For that reason, she let him have his fantasy. She also let herself have her own.

  And that fantasy included one more climax before he got his.

  The hand gripping her ass slid up her back and into her hair again, taking hold and moving her until they were eye to eye, nose to nose. Lips close, their breaths meeting, merging.

  “Baby,” he breathed.

  Not loquilla, not Frankie. Baby.

  The way he said it chipped the Teflon she’d coated her heart with.

  She struggled to patch that missing piece as their rhythm slowed, their lips touched, and he breathed the word “baby” again, this time into her mouth where she tasted it.

  Then she tasted him as he claimed not only her pussy and her ass, but her mouth. It began soft but became more frantic, his tongue taking control of hers.

  A groan bubbled up her throat when he didn’t let up, his hips driving up, his fingers gliding in and out of her, his lips plundering hers.

  She stopped breathing, but only for a moment as he grunted and his hips shot up and he spilled himself deep inside her. She came again as she rocked back and forth, grinding her clit against him, her beaded nipples brushing along his hot, damp skin.

  Then he broke the kiss, pinned their foreheads together and breathed, “Baby,” one final time.

  She closed her eyes, let that swirl through her mind before tucking it away where she’d keep it as a memory.

  Nothing was said between them until the sweat on their skin was almost dry and their labored breathing smoothed out.

  After the few moments she allowed herself to stay connected, she pulled away and he didn’t fight it. He let her go without a word as she nabbed her panties and went back upstairs to clean up.

  Back in her room, in her bed, she once again stared through the dark, but this time her eyes were glued to the knob on her bedroom door, waiting for it to turn.

  It didn’t.

  And the sleep she was hoping for never came, either.

  “’Nough time wasted,” came the bark through the phone. “Been a month since the pigs made that announcement. The fucker’s hopefully dead.”

  “If he isn’t?”

  “Then he isn’t,” Diesel answered. “Pigs can deal with ‘im if he shows up in their territory.”

  “D—”

  “Pussy worth losin’ your job over? Slade ain’t payin’ for you to take a fuckin’ vacation full of gettin’ some snatch. Him payin’ for you to get a rub an’ tug would be fuckin’ cheaper.”

  “We all want to find Taz.”

  “Yeah, started out for one reason, turned into another. Now you’re ridin’ the third reason. She wanna pay for personal protection, she can fuckin’ pay. She don’t, then I need your ass back here. Got payin’ jobs here waitin’.”

  “She can’t afford to pay for protection. She’s barely making it as it is.”

  “So’s most Americans. Ain’t gettin’ a hand-out from us even if she squirted out Slade’s nephew. If you’re so fuckin’ worried ‘bout ‘er, bring ‘er back here. Set ‘er up in your place. You get the snatch, she gets protection from the club, the Shadows. Hell, the sisterhood. An’ Slade gets to help raise his blood to keep ‘im from becomin’ a fuckwad like the rest of his family. If the bitch don’t wanna move, then it’s on her.”

  Pussy. Snatch. Bitch. Hunter dropped his head, his phone held away from his ear as he did his best not to snap out on his boss.

  The last three weeks had been difficult with keeping his hands off Frankie. He had left it her choice whether to sneak down the stairs and join him. She hadn’t. Only that one night and then that was it.

  They were civil with each other. He watched Leo and the house when she went to work. He stuck close, but not in her personal space when she was home. Her days off, he went with her to her mom’s to visit. Her mom still wasn’t sure what to think about him, but the older woman uttered more words to him than Frankie did. If it wasn’t for Leo being a chatty kid, the silence would have made him lose his shit.

  He’d watch her when she wasn’t looking. And he caught her many a time watching him when she didn’t realize he was paying attention. But he was. Tha
t was his job, to pay attention.

  And it was so fucking hard not to pay attention to the woman he wanted to shove against the wall and fuck from behind until she squirted all over his cock when she came.

  Jesus. He shouldn’t be getting a half-chub while his boss was on the other end of the phone. He pressed the phone back to his ear.

  “Time is money, brother,” Diesel was saying. “If she don’t got it, then we don’t got it. Got me?”

  “D—”

  “Ass back here today. With or without ‘er. You wanna keep searchin’ for that motherfucker, then do it on your own fuckin’ time. Got me?”

  Hunter pressed his lips together to stem the flow of words which would only piss off the big man. Instead he forced out, “Got you.”

  “Today,” D barked and the call cut off.

  Hunter’s gaze lifted from the dark phone to Leo, who was running around the backyard chasing a blue inflatable ball. He’d almost catch it, accidentally kick it, scream non-sensical things, then chase it some more on his stubby legs.

  Hunter sucked in a breath when the kid face-planted into the grass, his momentum almost tumbling him end over end.

  Fuck! Hunter raced over to him, hooking him by the underarms and putting him back on his feet before searching his body to make sure there was no blood or injuries. “You okay?” His heart dropped from his throat back into his chest as the kid looked unharmed.

  Leo smiled big and screamed, “’Kay!” Then flopped to the ground and started rolling around in the grass, belly to back, belly to back, rolling toward the ball, giggling all the way.

  Hunter sighed and shook his head, wondering if Frankie’s kid was normal.

  He pulled his cell phone back out of his back pocket, where he had shoved it when he saw Leo eat it, took a short video and sent it to Frankie along with the text: Ur boy’s whacked.

  She sent back a laughing emoji and the text: He’s perfect.

  Hunter had to admit, he was. She was raising him right. He was a happy kid even though he didn’t have a lot of material things. But what he did have was good enough. Clean clothes, good homemade food, and a roof over his head.

 

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