Broken for Me_Be for Me_Hunter

by Natalie Anderson

  He was tired of it? That meant he didn’t want to desire her—he wanted rid of it. Well, that she could understand.

  “You’re not cross-dressing at this joint?” he asked lightly, easing off that intensity.

  She chuckled as she remembered that crazy outfit she’d worn at the pop-up pizza parlor where she’d first met Hunter. “You’re disappointed?”

  “I’m never disappointed in the way you look.”

  She avoided looking at his eyes as a wave of pleasure swept over her. It was ridiculous how he could do that with so few words. Such blunt, direct honesty made her so aware of him.

  A quartet of honeymooners emerged, looking radiantly enervated, clearly looking for her service. Luisa walked over to them with a smile, relieved for the interruption from Hunter. Maybe he’d go and find his room and give her some time to steel herself.

  “It’s not too early for a pina colada?” One of the women asked.

  “It’s never too early.” Luisa winked at her.

  But she noticed one of the women giving Hunter a sideways look. Yeah, he was that striking.

  “He’s a friend of yours?” The woman guessed coyly.

  “We know each other.”

  The bride smiled. “He can’t take his eyes off you.”

  Yeah well that woman was looking at the world through her honeymoon glow. Luisa mixed up the drinks and lingered to chat to them before finally turning to walk back to where Hunter still waited by the coffee machine.

  “You want something to drink?” she asked him briefly.

  “No.”

  “Eat?”

  “Not food.”

  She sent him a look. “I have to work.”

  “Am I scaring off your customers?”

  She angled her head at that thread of tension in his voice and threw the questions back at him. “Do you think you are?”

  He smiled and yet again the change in him caused inner tremors. “I think you’re determined to keep me at a distance. You have been from the moment we met all those months ago. The question is why?”

  “I have a game for you. Mr-Ask-All-The-Questions.” She planted her hands on the bar and met his gaze squarely.

  “You do?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too excited.”

  “Too late.” He answered beneath his breath and deadpan.

  She had to bite back her smile. This playful side to him was intriguing. Tempting. She leant forward, keen to see just how far she could go with him. “Have you ever…”

  “I know the game—”

  “But there’s a twist.”

  “I can do twist if I have to,” he drawled with slight kink. But there was still that watchful quality in his eyes.

  “You can only ask the question, if you’ve done the thing yourself.”

  “So, you could ask, ‘have you ever worked in a coffee cart on the beach?’ —that kind of thing?”

  “Exactly.”

  He nodded. “Ask away.”

  “You want me to go first?”

  “Sure. Ask all you want.”

  She frowned at him. “We’re supposed to take turn about.”

  “I don’t mind. I see the curiosity in your eyes. Go ahead and ask me anything and everything you want. Just remember your own rules.”

  She lifted her chin. “Okay then.” She drew a breath, deciding to start easy. “Have you ever watched the sun rise?”

  His eyebrows shot up.

  “Answer me, it’s a real question.” She chuckled.

  “Every day.”

  “Seen the moon?”

  “Every night.”

  She narrowed her gaze on him. ‘You’re supposed to give yes or no answers.”

  “You didn’t specify that at the start.”

  “Have you ever swum with dolphins in the wild?” she growled at him. Was he a nature lover?

  “No.”

  “Have you ever gone white-water rafting down a grade five river?” Was he a thrill-seeker?

  “Stop showing off about your travel-a-thon life.” He interrupted her in a bored tone. “Ask me something real.”

  “Okay then.” She picked up a glass and began to polish it. “Have you ever cried in public?” she held her breath.

  He was silent for a moment. “Yes.”

  “Have you ever watched someone die?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you ever hurt someone?”

  “In what way?” he clarified.

  “Any way.”

  “Yes.”

  She hesitated. “Have you ever fallen in love?”

  Something flicked in his eyes. A glimpse of pain. She wasn’t sure whether it was caused by his own recollection of his past, or her admission by asking the question. Yes she’d loved someone. She’d loved Jack with everything she had. It wasn’t something she could do again.

  “Are you going to answer?” she prompted Hunter, aching to hear what he’d say.

  “No.”

  “Is that your answer or your refusal to answer?”

  “You work it out.”

  That wasn’t fair but she could find out in another way. “Have you ever told someone you loved them?”

  “No.”

  That broke her heart. And she hated the single word answers he was giving, but she’d set out the rules. To expand on his answers would mean she’d have to reciprocate and she couldn’t. So frustratingly, she was left even more curious than she’d been at the beginning. All the while she was giving things away while finding things out. She didn’t want him to know much more about her.

  “I have some questions for you.” He leaned forward over the bar now that she’d fallen silent.

  “I thought you didn’t want to ask,” she said warily.

  “I’m asking. Are you too scared to answer now?”

  “No. Go ahead. Ask me anything—but you have to have done it,” she reminded him.

  “I get your rules Luisa. I can play by your rules.”

  “Then go ahead.”

  He leaned closer, his voice lowering. “Have you ever dreamed of someone night after night?”

  She hesitated, but his gorgeous eyes were on her and he was too compelling.

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Have you ever been unable to sleep because you wondered where someone was and whether they were thinking about you?”

  “Yes.” Her answer was quieter still.

  “Have you ever wanted someone so badly it physically hurts?”

  Her heart was in her throat and he asked another question before she had the chance to answer.

  “Have you ever spent an entire plane ride imagining the various ways you’d kiss someone?” He sounded almost angry and the next question fell roughly from him. “Have you ever longed to touch someone so bad, you’re shaking with it.”

  “Stop,” she whispered, her heart racing.

  “Stop what?”

  Turning me on. “Making this so intense.”

  “It just is intense,” he shrugged and straightened. “It’s nothing I’m doing.”

  She looked at him. It was all him.

  “It was your idea.” He pointed out with that rare, lazy smile.

  She shook her head, her breathing was too quick and she was shaking.

  “Because it is this intense,” he muttered temptingly. “You know, you come across so ballsy, yet now you’re acting all chicken.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  HE WAS BEING provocative, right? Putting it out there to shock her into an unguarded response… well, two could play at that game. Excitement coursed through her veins.

  “If I want, then I take,” she said, feigning more confidence. “Sometimes.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “And is that a limited time thing too?” he queried calmly. “Like how you travel lots… you love then leave?”

  “I lust then leave,” she said boldly. “And yes, it’s for a limited time.”

  Far more limited
than Hunter realized.

  “When did you last do that?” he asked.

  Of course he’d ask. He who asked everything yet gave away so little.

  “What business is it of yours?” She threw it back on him pointedly. Truthfully she allowed herself one night only. Or less. And she hadn’t even had one of those in months. Okay, years.

  “In case you’re interested, I haven’t had a lover in over a year.” He leaned over the bar with exaggerated swagger but his voice was soft and his gaze true.

  He shocked her into stillness. Finally he’d told her something personal. This wasn’t something he did all the time either? That soothed and satisfied, but also scared her. Why was he so particular? Why her? This couldn’t be anything that important. But another feeling also flared—excitement, pride.

  “It’s been a while for me too,” she admitted recklessly. “A lot of the time its a disappointment.”

  His eyebrows shot up and his smug facade shattered to reveal genuine shock. “In what way?”

  She breathed in and went for brazenly honest. “A guy looks good. Hot. Like he’ll have the moves…”

  “And then he lets you down?”

  “No orgasm is ever as intense as the one I can give myself.” She took a look at his face and rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t a challenge by the way.”

  “Okay.” His tone suggested total disbelief.

  “It’s just the truth,” she shrugged airily as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

  “It’s just a damn shame.”

  She stiffened. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”

  “Are you saying no guy has ever gotten you off?” His gaze bored into her.

  “Oh I’ve gotten off with a guy, but it’s just not as good.” She flashed him a smile. “It’s not as intense.”

  “Huh.” He sat back on a barstool and chuckled. “So that’s why you don’t bother with boyfriends? Because some self-love keeps you satisfied.”

  “That’s right,” she feigned casual confidence. “It’s less messy. In lots of ways.”

  “So you crave intense, but not messy.” He laughed again. “Tall order.”

  “Not really.”

  “But there are other things that are good about sex,” Hunter debated. “Spending time with a person. Just hanging out and having fun.”

  “As if you ever just hang out and have fun.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re so serious. You barely smile.”

  “I’m smiling right now,” he protested, his hands lifting wide.

  “And you’re isolated. Whereas I spend time with lots of people.” But only a little time and preferably with plenty of people at once.

  “Lots of people because you like it less messy,” he said.

  “That’s right.” It was less intimate.

  He was too astute. She should’ve said no and walked away and let him have his vacation on the beach. This was messier than anything in ages, because he was magnetic. Her body craved his—as if she were addicted already.

  He leaned over the bar once more. “Show me,” he whispered.

  “What?” She was distracted by his nearness. “Show what?”

  “Show me how you please yourself.” His voice was husky and low and his expression? Downright dirty.

  Her toes curled as she looked at him through widened eyes. Did he mean what she thought—

  “Let me see how you touch,” he dared with smoldering heat. “How intense it truly is.”

  He couldn’t be serious. That was so private. And so… hot.

  Lust suddenly seared. She’d wanted him for so long and seeing him again and only reinforced the fantasies she’d had of him all these months. And yes, she was going to have to… take the edge off, when she finally got alone.

  His lips quirked as he watched her. “I’ll do the same, if you like.”

  Her jaw dropped as her brain short-circuited at the image of Hunter bared and touching his body. “I…”

  “Only once Luisa, right?” he whispered. “You want to live to the full? Then do this. I dare you.”

  “I can’t…”

  “Why not? I thought you considered everything in this adventurous life of yours.”

  Oh, he was smooth. And so damn arrogant. He thought he could just show up out of the blue and get her into bed before the clock struck midday?

  But the dreadful thing was she wanted that too. And it wasn’t dreadful, it was natural—hormones, a long time alone, a gorgeous, gorgeous hunk of man… and it was him. All this time, there’d been that sharp edge of sensuality between them. And that inevitability.

  “I room with another worker,” she choked out the problem.

  She had very little privacy. But that heat flickered, shifting deep inside. Her body yearned for the ultimate connection with him. But she wasn’t going that far. He’d be devastating.

  “I have one of those luxury huts. All to myself.” He shrugged and spread his hands helplessly. “I haven’t checked it out yet, in fact I’m not sure I know how to find it. You work here, right?” A gleam of humor lit his eyes. “Do you think you could you show me where it is?”

  “Oh please, you’re going for ‘helpless and lost guest’?” She huffed a laugh.

  He nodded unashamedly. “Is it working?”

  She drew in a deep breath. This was completely crazy. But temptation whispered like an impish devil. Once only. And this option was safe—she’d get the release without real intimacy. Every muscle in her body twisted up with anticipation. She just knew it would be the ultimate orgasm.

  “You can’t touch me,” she mumbled through her dried lips. “You can only watch.”

  He folded his arms across his chest and sent her a sinful smile. “Ditto.”

  Heat scorched her most private parts. The thought of watching him, of even just seeing him naked was enough to send her into orbit. She wanted to touch him. More than that she wanted to lick. But she’d settle for touching only herself. That was the deal because no way could she cope with him touching her. This was how she retained control—how she got off, without getting hurt.

  “You have no customers now,” Hunter remarked casually. “There’s another waitress in case anyone arrives.”

  She checked her watch. He was right and she was due two hours of rest before she was rostered to start the evening shift.

  “I’m in number sixteen,” he said. “You happen to know where that is?”

  She knew. It was the farthest hut from the main building, the equivalent of the penthouse suite in a hotel. It was the most secluded, the one with the best private pool.

  She stepped out from behind the bar and led him along the narrow path that ran parallel to the beach.

  “You won’t get in trouble for fraternizing with a guest?” he asked.

  “No one’s going to know,” she said quietly. “I’m confident you’re good with keeping secrets.”

  His smile was small and slow. “I know when to keep my mouth shut.”

  She didn’t reply, just kept walking as her heart raced ahead of her. This was crazy, but she was going insane anyway—some sexual relief would restore her balance, would help her keep him at a distance. She’d be better equipped to say no to everything.

  She drew a breath as she got to his hut. “You’re here.”

  Sunlight streamed through the leafy arbor above the pool, dappling the coverings of the accompanying daybed. It’d be perfectly private for them to lie out there, but Luisa walked inside. The room was luxurious—with its wooden flooring and lush furnishings, but it was dominated by the big bed. Unbearably conscious of Hunter’s close proximity, she could almost feel his heat at her back. Part of her didn’t want to venture too deeply into what would be his personal space, but she needed the soft gloom of the interior to hide just a little. She couldn’t believe she was going to do this. She hadn’t even kissed him and she was going to do something so private right in front of him?

  But her pulse raced and excitement thru
mmed and she was not a chicken. As bold and crazy as this was, she wanted to do it, to prove that to him. That she could handle this. That it didn’t mean anything. She wanted to provoke him the way he’d provoked her—to know he was as affected. She didn’t want him having all the control. So she’d control her own release.

  She swallowed as she turned and found him standing right behind her.

  He dropped the small bag and shoes he was carrying. In his old jeans and white tee, he was raw and handsome. Her uniform suddenly felt hot and too small.

  “You want me to take off my clothes?” she asked huskily.

  He didn’t move, didn’t take his gaze from hers as he softly replied. “You just do what you gotta do.”

  She wanted to die but she wasn’t going to back down. She slipped her hands under her skirt and shimmied down her panties, stepping out of them and leaving them on the floor. Maybe she should strip slowly and completely and make some kind of a show for him but sudden intense lust overwhelmed her. She was aching for an orgasm. It had been so damn long since she’d had one. She’d forgotten how this kind of hunger felt. Truthfully she didn’t know if she’d ever felt it like this. She licked her lips again and stepped back to sit on the edge of the bed.

  He remained standing, very still, only a foot away. She could see his muscles straining, color rising in his face. She scooted back a couple of feet to lie back onto the plump pillows. The bed covering was soft and luxurious to the touch as she ran her hands out from her body. She rocked her hips in an instinctive movement to ease that drive beating within her. Hell, she wanted touch. She wanted…

  His gaze zeroed in on her. Yeah, she was still fully clothed but they both knew there was nothing under her skirt. Her breasts peaked, hot and tight, poking at the cotton of her plain tunic. If she had more time she’d have touched them, but she was too hungry to assuage that ache between her legs. From the center of the bed she could see him still standing there right at the end, his legs apart as if he were braced. She hungrily eyed that bulge at the front of his jeans and reveled in the fact that his hot gaze was trained on her like a laser. But suddenly he moved—whisking that white tee shirt off his body and tossing it to the floor beside him.

  Her heart stopped. He was so fit. His skin was light golden and looked silken to the touch, but the muscles were ridged and his abs so defined she knew he’d feel hot and hard. She scoped the slight trail of hair leading down to the jeans that weren’t hiding the increasing pressure of his erection.