Too Much to Lose

by Holt, Samantha

  I lie and listen to Hunter’s heavy breathing for a while. Strange how that sound can be comforting. I wish I understood him. Or at least my fascination with him. I’ve never met a man so complex. The way he flashes from wry smiles to gut-wrenching intense expressions. He’s intelligent, that much is clear, and brutally honest. Now that appeals to me. Which is ironic considering my whole life is a lie. But I’ve been toyed with so much in the past. A man who means what he says is refreshing.

  That must be it. I haven’t met anyone like him before and that’s why he intrigues me. Unfortunately that doesn’t explain why I feel like I’m being struck by a thousand bolts of lightning every time we come into contact. I yawn and curl up, carefully avoiding Hunter. I don’t want to be experiencing any more lightning tonight, thank you very much.

  ***

  He comes to me that night. Touches me. Whispers to me. Bile rises in my throat as I wait in the darkness in the narrow single bed, my aunt’s faint snores seeping in through the open door from the other room. I lie still and hope he thinks I’m asleep. It’s worse if I talk back. One day, he promises, he will teach me what it’s like to be with a real man.

  Then we’re on set, bright lights shining down on me. My uncle has gone and it’s one of the well hung porn stars. He’s not good looking, even has a paunch, but as long as he’s got length and girth, no one cares. As long as I look good, that’s all that matters.

  I’m on a bed. A stranger presses lubrication into me. I must have taken some strong painkillers because everything is quite fuzzy. I’m still sore though. Before I can change my mind, my co-star is on me. I squirm and fight him off but it’s no good. He’s stronger than me. All the cameramen urge him on until his face melts. It’s Pete. He’s laughing at me. Mocking me. The cameramen are gone and it’s my friends. We’re in a bar and they jeer and shout. I’m a whore, they say. A filthy slut. No one wants me. No one ever will.

  Tears cloud my vision and I curl up, trying to shield my naked body from them.

  Chapter Six

  Hunter

  A strange sound drags me out of a deep sleep. It takes me a few moments of staring at the unfamiliar ceiling for me to figure out where I am. I twist quickly and regret it as pain spears up my side. Glancing down, I see the gauze and a generous amount of bruising. Memories of Jess’s fingers on my chest, of her intrepid gaze raking me assail me and I’ve got a damned hard-on.

  Then I realize Jess is next to me. The bedding is twisted around her legs and she’s in a cute little tee and polka dot panties. My erection grows. Smooth endless legs and the cutest ass I’ve seen in… well… forever, face me. Her hair is a wild tangle on the pillow. I can’t see her face but I want to. She mumbles something. Is she dreaming of me? ‘Cause God knows, I’ve dreamt of her enough times recently.

  I stretch and consider her for a while. I especially consider her ass. Goddamn, it looks so good. Even those tight trousers she favours did her no justice. I’m surprised she opted to share the bed with me—not that I meant to fall asleep. But still, I won’t pass up on the opportunity. I’ve got another chance to persuade her to spend some time with me now. She’s a hard nut to crack. Surely she feels the attraction practically burning between us? So why won’t she give in?

  Well, probably because she’s smarter than that. She’s keeping herself buttoned down. If I could just find a way in.

  Great, now all I can think of is the way in I’d really like to take. My fingers twitch with the urge to reach for the waistband of those silly cotton things and peel them down. I’d curl my hand around that lush rear and pull her onto me. Maybe I’d take her hard and fast or slow so I could see her expression as I take her to the edge.

  Another mumble from her has me cursing myself. I need to gain control of my body—and my thoughts. Her waking to find me with an erection isn’t going to help my case at all.

  I draw in several long, slow breaths and try to picture something unappealing. But nothing is coming and my gaze keeps sneaking back to those fucking polka dots. I will never see spots in the same way again.

  I perk at the realization I’m in her apartment and she’s sleeping. The letter. I need to get a look at it. My gut tells me it’s something important. A key to unlocking the mystery that is Jess and her schemes.

  She tosses suddenly, a hand smacking into my chest. The sting almost cures me of my erection and then I see her expression and I couldn’t be less turned on. It’s pained, agonized. Brows furrowed, lips twisted. Even with her eyes shut, I know something terrible is going on in there.

  Thoughts of the letter fly. What do I do? Are you meant to wake someone who has nightmares? Or is that sleepwalkers? I have no idea. Her movements increase, becoming frantic and I’ve got to do something. I snatch an arm as it flies toward me and try to shake her awake but it’s no good, she’s lost in her world of pain.

  Sitting, I go for her other arm. If I can’t wake her then I need to stop her from hurting herself at least. Jess writhes and sweat glistens on her forehead.

  “Jess, wake up.” Another moan, another frantic movement. “Jess, princess, wake up.”

  I use my chest to pin her down now. She’s that close to flinging herself off the bed and tearing out of my hold.

  “No,” she cries and my heart feels like it cracks a little.

  “Jess,” I say, quietly this time. “It’s just a dream. I’m here. No one can hurt you. Wake up. I’m here.”

  I’m barely sure what I’m saying or why that would soothe her but it feels right. Her movements slow and I continue murmuring her name until her eyelids flutter open. I see those green eyes gain focus and shock registers. I force myself to ignore the breasts crushed against my chest and the brush of silky legs.

  “What the he—Hunter, what…?” Her voice is reedy and weak as she tries to push me off.

  “You were having a nightmare.” I roll off, instantly missing the feel of her body under mine.

  She swipes a hand across her forehead, reaches for the bedding and tugs it over her body. Disappointment makes my gut clench but the way her gaze trails over my torso appeases my male pride a little.

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she says weakly.

  “Neither did I.”

  We stare at each other for a few breaths. Jess twines the corner of the duvet in her hands while I rub my increasing facial hair. It strikes me I’ve never been in a bed with a woman I haven’t fucked. I’m not sure what to do.

  I fracture the silence. “You want to talk about it?”

  “What?” Her eyes go wide.

  “Your nightmare?”

  “No.”

  “Sure.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Right… well, I’m just going to…” I climb off the bed and hunt for my top. I need to escape. I spy it in the laundry basket. Snatching it up, I avoid looking at her and head to the bathroom.

  Real smooth, Hunter. Problem is, if I look at her, I want to fuck her. Especially in those delicious panties. I’ve never had issues like this with women—never felt vaguely unsure of myself. Jess is crawling under my skin, playing with my mind and twisting herself around my heart. It’s scaring the hell out of me. I can’t afford to be so consumed by her when I’ve got bills hanging over my head and a pissed off client who wants results. And I sure as hell don’t want to be involved with a criminal.

  I consider using her shower, but don’t know if I should get the bandage wet so decide to wait until I get home. I wash briefly at the sink, drag on my T-shirt and my side pangs. Thankfully it’s just bruising. It could have been worse. My gut bunches. It could have been Jess.

  Using a finger, I dab a bit of toothpaste on and scrub my teeth before rinsing my mouth. I hadn’t exactly planned on staying over. In fact, I’m not sure what I planned by meeting her at work. I was concerned for her. She’d been a wreck yesterday—so vulnerable. The thought of her working late into the night had played through my mind and I knew I wouldn’t be able to rest easy until I knew she was
okay.

  And I want more info, I remind myself. Remember the job. Why is it so hard to remember she’s a thief?

  Yeah, the damned job. I’m seriously regretting taking it on. But without it, I stand to lose everything. My mother lost everything when Dad left and I am not being that man. She worked so hard to buy the house I now own after we moved from Ireland and to help me through my courses so I could set up my own business. All the years I put into building O’Reilly Investigations from the ground up and for what? It’s all going to end up in the hands of the bank.

  But it won’t—if I can complete this job. The final payment will cover a few months on Mam’s house and if I play things carefully, I can invest the rest in gaining some new clients.

  By the time I’m finished in the bathroom, she’s in the kitchenette and is wearing a robe. Damn.

  Jess offers me a weak smile and motions to the cup on the countertop. “I made you some coffee. I didn’t know how you took it but there’s sugar on the side.”

  I eye the cup and grin. “Black. Perfect.”

  She makes a face. “Yuck.”

  My grin expands. I love seeing her all make-upless and cute. I imagine I’m probably staring as she fidgets and places down her coffee.

  “I’ll just go and…” She motions to the bathroom. “I don’t really have anything for breakfast.”

  “No worries, princess.”

  She shakes her head at the nickname I have for her and slides past me. The door shuts. I don’t know why that name suits, but it does. It was intended to be negative. Spoiled little rich girl. Grew up with rich stepparents, speaks with a refined accent, wears pricey jeans. But it doesn’t seem to be providing the distance I need and now it sounds almost affectionate.

  I grab the coffee, drink it quickly, burn my mouth and pray the caffeine brings me back to my senses. Get the info and get out. That’s my new motto. Get out before she can draw me deeper. I dart a look around and go for the paperwork on top of the kitchen cabinet again but the letter isn’t there now. There goes that lead. I stuff the papers back and do a half-hearted search of the cupboards in case it’s in there. Looks like I’m going to have to turn my attentions to charming Jess and hopefully getting her to open up enough to give me a way in.

  About fifteen minutes later, she emerges, make-up in place. She scurries past me in a blue towel, barely looking my way and goes into the bedroom to dress presumably.

  I clench the edge of the kitchen side until my knuckles burn. A door—a thin, easily broken down door stands between me and the woman who is likely now peeling off that towel. I’m willing to bet her skin is still damp. My mouth dries as I consider how it would taste. I’d lick my way up those legs to the apex of her thighs, then I’d throw her down on the bed and sample between her breasts. I don’t need to have done it to know it would taste like heaven. Her mouth is amazing enough. I think her skin on my tongue would be the undoing of me.

  “Shit.” I turn and slam my palm on the counter but the sting does nothing to calm my thoughts.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I whirl and shove my hands in my jeans in a bid to hide my erection. “Nothing. Just burnt my mouth on the coffee.”

  Her hair is piled on her head in some messy bun thing, revealing the arch of her neck. My scalded, dry mouth is tingling at the idea of tasting it. Those leather trousers hug her rear again. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she dresses to tease me but let’s face it, she could probably wear a sack and I’d still find her hot.

  “Sorry, I was never very good at making coffee.” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  “You want to go for breakfast?” I spill out. I had meant to work up to it. I’m so off my game, it’s not even funny.

  “Oh, um…”

  “As a thank you, for… you know—” I motion to my bloodied T-shirt and grin “—saving your life.”

  Even under the make-up, I see a blush pervade her cheeks. “I really am grateful…”

  Jess twists her fingers together and I spy a battle raging in her eyes. Part of me wants to scream at her to run. Send me away. Then I’ll have no choice. I won’t be able to complete the job. But why does she deserve to get away with stealing?

  “Sure, okay. Let’s go for breakfast.”

  “Great.” A huge lump of guilt jams in my throat.

  She grabs her coat off the couch and goes to shrug into it. I snatch her wrist and frown. “How did you get these?” Bruises are scattered all along her forearm, marring her skin.

  She blinks and glances at the purple marks. “Oh, it must have been when you… you know, pushed me.”

  I drop her arm. “Shit.”

  “It’s okay. You saved me, remember?”

  “I didn’t realize you’d been hurt. You should have said.”

  “It’s only bruises. I didn’t really think about it. I was more concerned for you.”

  I skim a finger along her arm, bitter regret burning in my stomach. “You’re really something, princess.”

  Jess laughs. “Why? Because I didn’t complain about a little bump?”

  I shake my head. “That’s no little bump.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m not that easily hurt.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.” I’m beginning to doubt there’s a dishonest bone in her body. Which is dangerous territory. Why would my client waste money sending me after her if she didn’t take the money? She’s clouding my judgment somehow, emitting some weird brainwashing signals.

  “Are we grabbing some food or not? Any later and we’ll miss any chance for breakfast.” She says this with a smile but there’s wariness in her eyes. I need to play this more carefully or she’ll clam up completely and I’ll never find out anything.

  I grab my leather jacket while she stuffs some money and her keys into hers. “Damn.” I pluck at my T-shirt and she laughs.

  “You do look a little dodgy all covered in blood.”

  “I’m not exactly covered… but it does look bad. Do you mind if we stop at my place so I can grab a change of clothes?”

  “Your place?”

  “Yeah.” I’m not sure I intended for this to happen either. It’s one step too close to her seeing everything. If she realizes I’m investigating her, I’m screwed. But I’ve got to use this chance to dig deeper. “Unless you’ve got something…”

  “Definitely not.”

  “I’m only about fifteen minutes from here.” She puts the tip of a finger to her mouth and nibbles the end. I have never wanted to be a finger so badly. “You don’t have any plans today do you?” I press, knowing she doesn’t. I’ve followed her long enough to know she does very little on Sundays.

  “No.” Jess releases an audible sigh. “Come on then.”

  “It’s not that much of a hardship spending time with me, is it?”

  A reluctant smile twitches on her lips. “No, of course not.”

  “Good, cause I plan on spending a lot of time with you from now on.”

  Chapter Seven

  Jess

  We pull up outside a Victorian terraced house, all red brick and tall windows. It takes me a moment to realize we’ve reached Hunter’s house. The place he’s on the verge of losing. Funny, I didn’t picture him living in a normal house. I clearly know nothing about him.

  He turns off the engine. “Here we are. You can wait in the car if you want.”

  Curiosity has me shaking my head and he shrugs. We climb out, push through the small wooden gate and I stare at the bevelled windows as he unlocks the door. I still can’t figure out how I ended up here. There’s definitely this burning need to find out more about him driving me, but I’ve never given into inquisitiveness before. Why now? Why with Hunter?

  He flicks a grin in my direction and motions me in. My stomach flips. Probably because he’s so sexy. What am I doing? Why have I put myself in this situation? I’ve already shown I have no sense when it comes to Hunter. I should never have let him kiss me or even remotely encouraged him.


  “Wait in here.” He motions to the door on the right. “I’ll just grab a change of clothes.”

  I blink as I step into the living room. The dated furniture and dog ornaments are not what I was expecting. My surprise must show as Hunter laughs.

  “Not exactly a man cave, right?”

  “Well, I—” God, I’ve probably insulted him but I never expected a guy with scruff and a leather jacket to own miniature cottages.

  “It was my mam’s house.”

  “Ah.”

  “Haven’t got around to redecorating.”

  I shove my hands in my coat pockets and gaze around. “Is she—”

  “Dead?”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to—”

  “Cancer. Three years ago.” Sorrow flits across his face before being carefully buried under a wry grin.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He lifts a shoulder. “It was a blessing in the end that she went. She was pretty sick.”

  Several photos sit on the mantelpiece. I take the time to study them, unsure what I should do now. I’ve spent so long avoiding people, I think I’ve forgotten how to interact with them. I guess it makes sense that I’ve fallen under Hunter’s spell. He’s the first man to show me any attention that is more than just perving on me or wanting to feel me up. My lips curl upwards as I spot a photo of what must be Hunter and his mother. He still looks like a bad boy even though he couldn’t have been more than fifteen. I bet he broke hearts at that age.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “She was.”

  I want to cry. He sounds like a little lost boy all of a sudden and not like the confident man I think I know.

  “I’ll be two seconds.”

  I don’t turn around. I’m a bit scared as to what might happen if I look at him. Maybe I will cry or he’ll finally figure out who I am beneath my disguise. He could, I suspect, if he looked hard enough. Part of me longs for that. I’m so tired of lying and hiding. But that part of me secretly hopes whoever finds out will also accept me and that won’t happen.