The winding inside him tightened and his muscles started to shake. But Hunter didn’t stop. He pushed and ground. The sounds of sex filled the apartment. The shuffle of clothes. The slap of Will’s palms against the wall.
The sex went on. Inside, Will heated, then boiled over. And he wasn’t alone. A rough noise escaped Hunter’s throat as his body let go. His weight leaned heavy on top of Will and his body shook, but his hand didn’t stop. Will dropped his head between his arms and watched. Saw Hunter’s fist pump up and down on him, swallowing his dick in a palm.
One last squeeze of Hunter’s fingers and Will gulped in air. The last of his control slipped away. As he came, his body bucked. His hips shifted and his body emptied. He had no idea how long it all lasted, but he slumped as the energy that had been clamping down on him eased.
There was nothing left now. To keep from falling down, he pressed tighter to the wall. Rested his cheek against the cool stones.
For a few seconds they both stood there, balancing against each other. Holding each other up. Neither of them moved except for the heaving and subtle shifting as their bodies touched in places that were now sensitive to any pressure.
Will’s insides still pulsed. His hands flexed on the wall as he tried to bring his breathing back under control. He didn’t say anything because he couldn’t find the right words to follow up what finally happened between them.
Hunter shifted and Will winced as he pulled their bodies apart. Hot breath no longer brushed against the back of his neck. Skin no longer touched skin.
With the weight gone, Will turned around. Heard the thud as he fell against the wall. It took another minute before his muscles sparked to life again. When they did, he forced his body to move. Kicked his pants off and dragged his briefs up. But that stole all his energy. Giving in to the weakness in his knees, he slid down to sit on the floor.
Hunter stood over him, refastening his pants, completely back in control as if nothing had just happened. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Will brought his knees up with his feet flat against the floor. Rested his arm on his knees and let his satiated body relax.
“That was bound to happen. We’ve been circling each other since long before the explosion.” Hunter’s clinical description sounded cold and matter-of-fact, driving home the fact that the sex had made little impression on him.
Will matched his attitude with one of his own. “No shit.”
“Then what has you staring into space, or is this a post-sex ritual with you?” Hunter grabbed his phone. Glanced at it, then dropped his hand again. “Well?”
Less than five minutes after sex and Hunter’s formidable emotional shield had snapped back into place. The whole thing made Will wonder if he’d only imagined Hunter’s loss of control. Maybe he was the only one who’d lost it. Sure, Hunter had come. On some level he must have enjoyed the sex, though he wore a look that said whatever.
Not the most flattering moment.
But Will didn’t plan to share any of that. “Just thinking.”
Hunter exhaled as he crouched down and sat beside Will. “About?”
“Why do you care? Are you in charge of my thoughts, too?”
“That’s what this is about? Your ego is bruised?”
“Maybe you should shut up for two seconds.” Will went from feeling good to pissed in a heartbeat. “My sister is dead. My brother is either dead or, by your theory, trying to kill me. My father’s now gone. The list is pretty fucking long, so maybe give me a minute or two to process.”
“I’m not convinced your family is worth crying over.”
Talk about missing the point. If Hunter wanted to be clear on how little the sex and Will meant, he’d done a hell of a job.
“You don’t get it.” Will thought about Stacia and a vision of her bleeding out on the hard ground flashed through his mind. That’s how the body had been described to him. That’s the image he couldn’t shake off.
“Explain it to me.”
“She was my sister.” Complex, flawed, dangerous. But years ago she and Peter had made sure he got out. They forced their father to send him away. Being shipped to boarding school sucked, but it gave him space to grow up outside of his father’s reach. To survive.
“I get that.” Hunter shrugged. “So?”
But he didn’t. Will tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. Tried to think of a way to say it that might make sense to someone who hadn’t grown up in the Rivers household.
“I know what she was capable of but—” He ignored Hunter’s scoff and continued. “She saved me. She and Peter.”
“How?”
“Never mind.” He glanced at Hunter and tried to forget how hard the news of the death had struck. “The guy who told me about her being dead went into a bit too much detail. It’s not easy to forget.”
The same guy who had planted the seed of doubt about Hunter and questioned his background.
“Who is this guy and where is he now?” Hunter asked.
“His name is Gatt. He showed up near the end, before the explosion, and hung around the country house while we were back in London.”
“Wait—”
“Peter didn’t trust him, but Stacia invited him to stay.” Will had intentionally not learned more. He wasn’t close to his family. He suspected his father had killed his mother, or had it done. Couldn’t prove it, but remembered her planning to run away and then she was just gone. Overheard Stacia and Peter talking about it.
“Stacia had a boyfriend?”
Will couldn’t quite see that, but…“Probably. Does it matter?”
Hunter frowned. “I guess not.”
Truth was, he came from a diseased family tree. That wasn’t a surprise to Will. He didn’t want to care about what happened to any of them, but his brain didn’t seem to work that way. “They used to go at it, her and Peter. My father encouraged it because he believed his children needed to battle in order to earn his respect and the right to hold power. So, they’d fight, and I don’t mean yelling. There was a time before I left for school…”
Hunter’s disinterest vanished. He was fully engaged now. “What?”
“Stacia stabbed Peter. She said they were sparring, learning knife moves or some stupid thing. A coach was right there, but she sliced Peter’s stomach. There was blood everywhere.” Will had been a kid and his father finally agreed to ship him off right after that. Said he needed a better education and that being away would make him more of a man.
“Your brother wasn’t a good guy. Maybe Stacia was defending herself.”
Will laughed as he stood up. “You don’t know as much about the family as you think.”
Hunter frowned. “Meaning?”
“She was the more ruthless one. Possibly worse than my dad, and that’s saying something because he didn’t have a conscience or any boundaries.” She was savvy and the most dedicated to the family name. “Apparently she tried to kill me when I was a baby because she didn’t want another brother. Threatened me several times when I got older, but just as frequently put her body between mine and our father’s hand.”
Hunter shook his head. “Jesus, your family is something.”
“I don’t pretend that I ever truly understood her.”
“She was dangerous.”
“Understatement. There was this car accident that wasn’t much of an accident at all. I was nineteen and home for a holiday and almost died.” He’d been rammed and knocked unconscious. Woke up to see a man coming at him with a knife and barely escaped. “Peter insisted I stay at school from then on. Actually paid me not to come home.”
“I guess none of that should surprise me since you’re heir to a criminal dynasty, not a coffee shop.”
Will paced around the room. Debated putting his pants back on as he tried not to think about how Hunter said the words. Not like any paid bodyguard Will had ever known. “Those are rumors, yes.”
“You’re not that naive. Hell, you’re supposed to be the smart one
.” Hunter glanced at his phone, which sat on the floor beside him. “The one with all the fancy degrees.”
“The one who broke away from the family.”
“You can’t sell that to me. I worked for your family.” Hunter stood up and slipped his phone in his front pocket. “I know where all that shiny money that supports your lifestyle comes from. You’re not exactly a nine-to-five office type.”
Will had reached his end with this topic. “You mean the same money they used to pay you?”
Instead of answering, Hunter rebuttoned his pants. Tucked in his shirt. Even reached for his blazer. When he started looking around for his keys, Will got the point.
“Where are you going? The spotlight moves to you and your culpability and you duck out.” Worse, they’d had sex and he panicked. Will couldn’t believe Hunter had a fuck-and-run mentality. One round and he was finished. If that was really the case, he could go and keep going.
“To get something to eat. And, for the record, we’re not done.” The keys jangled as Hunter scooped them up. “Do not move from this apartment. I will be pissed if I have to hunt you down again.”
Will waited until Hunter reached for the door to take one more verbal shot. “You think the sex means you decide what we do from here?”
“I think being in charge means I decide that.” For the first time the blank expression left Hunter’s face. He almost smiled. “The sex is a bonus.”
He saw the sex as a joke. Wasn’t that just fucking great. Yeah, Will was done. “Happy you’re satisfied.”
“You’re not?” Hunter winked. “I’ll work on that when I get back.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“Don’t issue a challenge you can’t win.” Hunter pinned Will with his intense gaze. “And so that we’re clear, we’ll be doing that a lot. The wall, the bed, the couch. The location doesn’t matter to me.”
“Do I get a say?”
“I’m betting you say yes.”
Chapter 6
Hunter made it into the hall, down the first flight of stairs, and halfway down the second before he blew out the long exhale he’d trapped inside. He knew he should keep going but his knees buckled and he sat down hard on a step.
Despite what he said and how he acted, the sex had kicked his ass. Burned right through his control. Giving in and touching Will had him thinking about fucking instead of protecting. He’d worried that would be the case, which was part of the reason he’d held off for as long as he had.
Need had been riding him ever since he met Will. He didn’t understand it. The hot collegiate type had never appealed to him before. The idea of spending a day in bed with someone sounded like torture. Sex—absolutely. Talking and the deeper stuff? No thanks.
That’s why he’d kept the screwing as impersonal as possible. Limited the kissing. Refused to see Will’s face as he came, despite how much he wanted to experience that moment. Pulling away after, building that emotional wall again, had been a matter of survival. Hell, he hadn’t even meant to let it go that far to begin with, but when Will had encouraged—hit him with the heat and the words—Hunter had slipped from flirting to action. He’d lost it, and he never lost it.
He glanced over his shoulder half expecting Will to be standing there. The guy struck Hunter as a runner. He’d stayed alive and out of custody, out of the hands of those who might torture him for information, ever since the explosion. Hunter admired that. It also meant Will had skills other than shooting. Skills he hid. Hunter hated that part because it made him wonder what else he didn’t know.
He still didn’t understand quite what had happened back in that room. They’d morphed from fighting to touching. Maybe that was inevitable. But the rest…He’d listened to Will and been hypnotized by his voice. Lured past what he looked like to somewhere deep inside.
As they’d sat there on the floor, he’d wanted to know more. Not just for the job. He wanted to know Will, understand how his mind worked. How he separated out his life from his family’s. How he’d come to be the man he was.
The BND had trained him to stay focused, keep on mission. He’d laughed at fellow officers who failed to disconnect and shun emotion. But after months of looking at Will, dreaming about him, Hunter no longer saw him only as a job or a potential fuck. He’d moved past that, and that scared the shit out of him.
He had to move. Stand up. Get some air and restart his brain.
Wrapping his hand around the railing, he pulled up and stood there. Made sure his legs worked at full strength and his head had cleared. Walking outside would put a target on his back, which was part of the reason he was doing it. Flushing out trouble generally worked better than hiding from it.
That Ed guy had to be skulking around, looking for Will by now. Peter’s men had to be out there, too. And Hunter had no idea who this Gatt guy was. He had to figure that out.
Then there was the big question. The one Hunter didn’t like to think about or analyze. What if, through it all, after he unburied every thought and dissected every conversation, Will was playing him? Hunter had to admit he didn’t have his usual perspective, which meant Will might not be who Hunter thought he was.
The Rivers family bred manipulators. Siblings trying to kill each other? That was one fucked-up gene pool. They produced people who could con and kill without blinking. Hunter wanted to believe Will wasn’t like that, but he couldn’t be sure. Not yet.
That meant waiting, creating a trail to make it look as if Will had left the city to throw off the scent. Getting a little breathing room so he could find out specifics from Will. Then Hunter could take him in and let the BND handle him.
That was the plan anyway. Whether Hunter could get it done, especially the last part, was still unclear.
He just really wanted to know Will’s agenda first, and that meant building trust. Getting closer. Accomplishing that without getting sucked in and pulled under sounded impossible at the moment.
But the goal right in front of him at the moment was food. There was a crepe place on the street level of the building and about a dozen other spots to get food within steps. That was the good thing about a neighborhood loaded with shops and restaurants. It was not hard to find what he needed.
He took the last of the stairs and with his head down walked into the street. At this time of night people milled around, gathered at tables at nearby cafes, and spilled out of bistros and clubs. It was at the far end of weekday dinnertime but people hurried by with bags. A big group walked out of the Pompidou Center, a huge modern structure that housed a library and museum and other things that Hunter would likely never visit.
He slipped down one of the less congested streets and headed for a market. He’d find what he needed there and still be close by. Because he was deadly serious about the threat he’d issued. Will better stay in the apartment. Hunter would tie him to the bed if he had to find him again. Maybe he should have anyway. The idea sounded dirty and worth investigating.
He’d taken a few steps when the noise hit him. Actually, the lack of noise. The buzz of the Paris night faded and he concentrated on footsteps. On picking up any sound, no matter how slight. He focused his breathing, taking in everything around him without ever breaking stride or moving his head.
Nothing.
Tracking and evading came naturally to him. He never ignored his instincts even when the obvious evidence didn’t support his gut. This time the prickling sensation on his skin told him someone was watching. Someone trained, with skills.
He looped around, doing a U-turn in the street and switching to the other side to walk back toward the busier area again. Adrenaline pumped through him as he thought about Will up there, alone. No one should know about the apartment. It wasn’t even his. He’d “borrowed” it and locked it and even jerry-rigged it with an alarm synced to his watch to warn him if anyone breached the perimeter. It hadn’t tripped.
But the phone was a different issue. As Will had been talking about his family something weird happened wit
h Hunter’s phone. The display lit up, just for a second, then turned off again. Hunter didn’t bother to look at it now because he needed his full attention on his surroundings. It had only been dark for a short time thanks to the long summer day.
He took another step before he heard it. The slight shuffle of movement, almost imperceptible. Others, people not trained, would have missed it. It blended into the sound of passing cars and the murmur of voices a short distance away. Then it was gone. One brief note, but it was enough to tip him off to impending trouble.
He waited for the next narrow street. When he hit it, he ducked around the corner and stopped. Counting to three, he waited. No footsteps or sound this time, but he knew. At three he stepped out and grabbed the guy standing there. Dragged him into the side street and slammed him against the wall.
The guy didn’t fight or protest. Even in the limited light it took Hunter only a second to realize why. He knew this one.
Fisher Braun, the guy who had actually blown up the Rivers estate three weeks ago. CIA Special Activities Division team leader and all-around badass. Hunter had worked with him on the job that uncovered Pentasus. He and his team, though reluctantly.
Hunter stared into Fisher’s dark eyes and saw amusement dancing there. That was enough to make Hunter shove away from him. “Asshole.”
“It is always good to see you.” Fisher glanced at the space just over Hunter’s shoulder. “You remember Seth Lang.”
Part Chinese and all smartass. Hunter definitely remembered Seth. Hunter wasn’t a big fan of Fisher either but that had more to do with his general distrust of people and the fact that the man Hunter used to sleep with—Zachary Allen—was now Fisher’s partner inside of the bedroom and out.
Fisher’s group was tidy and efficient. They busted ass and were as tough as anyone he’d ever encountered. But they worked as a team, while Hunter preferred to go it alone.
There was a bigger issue, though. Before working with them he’d never bent the rules. He’d followed protocol. They’d taught him that sometimes he needed to go around the people in charge to get anything done. More than likely that new skill would land him in prison one day.
The Talented Mr. Rivers Page 5