by Stasia Black
Isobel rolled her eyes. “Such a charmer, you are.”
They’d finally reached the truck and Hunter went to grab for the driver’s side door.
“Oh no you don’t, Mr. Dopey-pants.”
He turned and gave her a spectacular grin that took her breath away for a second. It was annoying how handsome he was. “See, you can’t remember my last name either.”
Even heavier eye role. “Mr. Dawkins, would you please be so kind as to get your ass around to the passenger door because there is no way in hell I’m letting you drive in your condition.”
He made a face at her like he was back in Kindergarten. “Who died and made you boss?”
The smile fell off her face. Because today, the answer had almost been: him.
“Get a move on.” She pushed past him to unlock the truck and then climbed up inside. He just stared at her. Or more likely he’d been staring at her ass as she hauled herself into the cab. The fact that he was alive to ogle her made her slightly less snappish when she said, “Now.” Slightly anyway.
He finally got the hint and came around to the passenger side. He seemed to have some difficulty getting the door open, though. She saw him frowning in confusion at it through the window. Good lord, maybe she should have helped him up before getting in herself. She reached over and opened the door for him.
“Oh.” He took a stumbling step back, reaching for the door to steady himself at the last second. Isobel about had a heart attack in the moment he faltered, though.
“Get in the truck,” she all but yelled. For God’s sake, if she survived today, it was gonna be a goddamned miracle. She just needed to get Hunter somewhere where there was a flat surface he could lay down on and not do any harm to himself. She’d swear she lost years off her life driving to the hospital with him half conscious and bleeding all over the passenger seat.
She grimaced looking down at the seats. They were a somewhat washable plastic-y material, and no doubt the truck had seen plenty in its tenure as Hunter’s mobile veterinary office, but still. Seeing the brownish red stains along the seams leftover from her rush clean up job with the towels they kept in the back—
She jerked her eyes away from the upholstery and back to the man who was whole and healthy in front of her.
Hunter had his hand held in front of his face and he was staring at it like it held all the mysteries of the universe. “Have you ever realized your hand is as big as your face? Like, what does that mean?” He looked over at her, wonder filling his face.
Well, he was healthy enough.
“All right, space cowboy. Buckle up.”
When he continued to stare at his hand, wide-eyed, she reached across him for his buckle. He nuzzled into her neck from behind. “You smell good. Did I ever tell you that?”
She jerked the belt sharply across his chest and pulled back, feeling her cheeks flush.
“I always thought so. Is it vanilla? No,” his eyebrows hunched, considering, “it’s got like a fruity thing. Vanilla fruit.” He nodded, then looked at her like he was waiting for her to confirm his theory.
“Um.” She was pretty sure she smelled disgusting at the moment. She’d only gotten a glimpse of herself when she’d run to the bathroom in the hospital earlier, enough to see that her clothes were muddy and her hair a disheveled mess. For once, she refused to allow her vanity to get the better of her, though, and she’d fled the mirror before any insecurities could take hold. Hunter’s life was in danger and she’d refused to obsess over petty bullshit.
But Hunter was, for all intents and purposes, fine now. And he was staring at her far too intently for her liking.
So she put the truck in gear and pulled out of the hospital parking lot.
As soon as the truck lurched, Hunter grunted and jerked his torso forward.
Oh. Ouch. She hadn’t realized it, but he’d been holding his body away from the back of the seat ever since he’d gotten in the truck. Until she’d started and the momentum pushed his sore back into the seat.
Her stomach knotted up when she thought of how much pain he must be in if it was still hurting through all the meds they’d doped him up with.
Speaking of…
“Hunter, did they give you a prescription you need to fill? To get more pain medication?”
Hunter made a dismissive noise. “I’ll be fine. Dawkins men are tough as nails.”
“Hunter,” Isobel said with a warning voice.
“I’m fine.”
Isobel gunned the engine so the truck jerked forward.
Hunter’s pained grunt at his back hitting the seat again told her all she needed to know.
“Gimme.” She held out her hand.
“Fine, fine.” Hunter sounded like a chastened little boy as he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket.
Isobel flipped it over. Vicoden. A month’s worth. Damn, they weren’t kidding around. She’d seen a Walgreens on the way back from the Animal Hospital.
She paused right before turning onto the road to flip on the GPS and click ‘go’ for the hotel she’d mapped earlier. Casper was a bigger metro area, if you could call a tiny city like this a ‘metro.’ But it had a Walmart and, more importantly, a hospital, so she was happy to count it as one.
Apparently this was the main hospital for all of east central Wyoming. Or so the nursing attendant had informed her over and over when she repeatedly asked for news about Hunter. As in, “we’re the only hospital for all of east Wyoming. We deal with an incredible amount of traffic. Everyone wants to know about their loved one and I assure you, the doctors are moving as quickly as they can while also assuring each patient receives the best care possible. You’ll be the first to know as soon as there’s anything to know.” The woman spoke like she was reading off a script. “Now, have you filled out your loved one’s insurance information forms yet?”
Uh, Hunter wasn’t her loved one and no she hadn’t filled out the goddamned insurance information because she had no idea about any of that. She’d said she was his fiancé so they’d at least tell her about his condition. Except it turned out no one had ever come to tell her squat before Hunter himself came ambling out.
She stopped for the prescription and then they headed to the hotel.
Where there was only one room available—a single with one king size bed. They were lucky to even get that. The rest of the hotel was full of people displaced by the storm.
Isobel didn’t care. She was just glad to get Hunter to their room. She helped him down from the truck and supported him under his arm.
Together, they made it toward their room at the end of the hotel strip. They were on the ground level, thank God. Isobel would have hated trying to get Hunter up the stairs.
Isobel fumbled in her purse for the key.
Meanwhile Hunter leaned in from behind her, all but sandwiching her against the door.
She felt a soft tug on her scalp and looked back to see Hunter rubbing the hair of her sloppy ponytail between his fingers, the corners of his mouth turned down.
“You never wear your hair down. My wife didn’t either. She knew I liked it long. She said that was sexist.” He huffed out a sad sigh. “Maybe so.”
His eyes were apologetic as he looked up at her. “I still like your hair down.”
His ex-wife. He never talked about her.
Isobel knew she shouldn’t pry. If he didn’t talk about his ex, he likely had his reasons. And he was probably only talking about her now because of the drugs.
But the little devil on Isobel’s shoulder won out. “What was she like?” she asked as she finally got the door open.
Hunter let out another long sigh that expelled all the air from his chest. He winced at the movement and Isobel cringed with him. Was it too soon to take one of the Vicodin? What exactly had they given him at the hospital?
“Forget about it. Let’s get you inside.” She helped him in and over to the bed. She pulled back the comforter and then he flopped down on his stomach, boots still on.
Isobel started reaching for his boots when Hunter’s sad laugh stopped her.
“Janie was beautiful. But hard. Like New York. Think that’s why I liked her. She wasn’t like any of the girls here.” He closed his eyes. She wondered if he’d drift off to sleep.
It was ridiculous, she knew. But it still hurt in some stupid, unnamable way to hear him talking about another woman. Knowing he’d loved her enough to marry her. And what about now? Did he still love her?
“I visited there once, did you know that?” He flopped his head sideways, cheek landing on one of his hands. “New York.”
Isobel shook her head but Hunter was already continuing. “And I thought, oh. I get it now. We never had a chance.”
He looked so sad and he shook his head again, his eyes dropping closed. “New York women.”
The next second, he shifted on the bed and let out a short grunt of pain.
“Don’t fall asleep yet,” Isobel said, her throat dry. “Let me give you some medicine.”
Her hands shook as she got a glass of water from the sink and a pill from the bottle. “Here,” she managed in a mostly steady voice. “Take this.”
He lifted up and took the pill, lids half-mast. Once he finished gulping down all the water in the glass, he handed it back and then collapsed back to the bed, arms hugging the pillow.
New York women.
It was because she was from New York? He’d pulled the one-eighty after they slept together only after learning she was actually from New York and not New Hampshire.
He thought she was just like his wife. New York women.
“Come to sleep, baby,” Hunter murmured, face half buried in his pillow.
Isobel jerked back from the bed.
Did he just…?
He’d just been talking about his wife. Was he so out of it he thought Isobel was this Janie woman? His wife?
Oh God. Isobel felt sick.
But so much made sense now. Why he’d been so instantly attracted to her. He just said his wife wasn’t like any of the girls around here. So when a new woman showed up in town, with the sophistication of the city on her that reminded him of his wife even if he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why…
Her stomach flipped. She shot to her feet and made a beeline for the front door.
But then she stopped as soon as her hand touched the doorknob. She looked back over her shoulder.
Dammit. She couldn’t leave him alone right now. No matter how much she wanted to run away and try to clear her head.
Because running was always the answer, right?
She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her forehead against the door. Shit. Was that really her go-to when things got hard?
After everything that went down that hellish year when she was sixteen, she’d run to Rick and Northingham stables.
Then she’d run away to college.
Then here.
But dammit, what had taking a stand and trying to get control of her future gotten her? Facing her problems hadn’t exactly worked back in New York. And every time she tried to assert herself and take charge of her life here, she just caused more problems. God, she’d almost gotten Hunter killed because of her stupidity in insisting they go out despite the storm.
She was pretty sure that a tornado dropping down almost literally on top of her was karma’s way of giving her the middle finger.
She banged her forehead once on the door before turning around and going to sit on the one chair in the room—the wooden one pushed in at a little desk top beside the TV. She pulled the chair out and stared down at it balefully.
She was exhausted. She needed rest if she was going to drive home tomorrow with the trailer. There was no way she’d even be able to catnap sitting on the uncomfortable chair. She looked over her shoulder.
Maybe she could sleep on the floor? But then her nose wrinkled. God, she was so tired. Her eyes lifted to the bed. Hunter was sprawled out, but mostly just on the left side. With the meds he was on, he’d be dead to the world all night.
She should take a shower. She’d done some spot-cleaning at the hospital but before she got in bed she should really—
Her shoulders slumped, the stress and weariness of the day finally hitting her full force. Oh fuck it. Housecleaning would clean the sheets whether she dirtied them or not.
She flipped off the lamp, then pulled off her jeans. After a second’s hesitation, she pulled off her muddy shirt as well.
She’d wake up well before Hunter and slip out of bed without him ever knowing she was here. She got into bed, pulled the covers up over both her and Hunter, and was asleep within a few minutes.
***
Oh God, yes. Right there.
If he’d only—
But then Hunter’s finger circled her clit.
Isobel moaned before remembering they had to be quiet. Hunter had pulled her into the women’s restroom at Bubba’s, then into the back stall, but it wasn’t like there was a lock on the door.
Hunter’s hand immediately slapped over her mouth, his hardness grinding into her ass from behind as he pressed her against the wall.
“Hush,” his voice was a harsh whisper in her ear. “Those sexy noises you make are only for me. No one else gets to fucking hear them.”
With his other hand he shoved her skirt up to her waist and her panties halfway down her legs.
And she was glad he had his hand over her mouth because she couldn’t help crying out and pressing her ass back against him. She hadn’t heard him undoing his buckle but his cock was already out. He rubbed it up and down between her ass cheeks while he sucked on the back of her neck.
Oh God, he was driving her so freaking insane. Every touch, the perfect pressure of his fingers at her clit, the feel of him hard at her ass—
But she needed more. More. “More,” she groaned out. “Hunter. More.”
She flipped so that she could face him and threw her arms around his neck.
“Ow.” He flinched and pulled back from her.
Wait. What?
Oh God. His back. How had she forgotten? His back. The storm. The hospital.
This wasn’t real. This was a—
Isobel startled awake.
Awake in a hotel bed.
With a very real Hunter.
Who very really had his hands down her pants.
“Hunter!”
“I’m gonna make you feel so good.” Hunter was on his side, propped up on one elbow as he kissed down her jaw, his other hand at her core.
She should have pushed him away. No matter how good he was making her feel, he was on medication and might not be fully in the driver’s seat at the moment. Plus, his back—
But in the hazy seconds between sleeping and waking, she wasn’t processing information fast enough.
And that was when he dipped a finger inside her.
She almost came on the spot.
She’d been so primed by the dream. And it was Hunter. Who was alive. When he so easily could have died today.
That single thought had her grabbing his face and kissing him hard. His tongue was immediately tangling with hers. He kissed her so fiercely and with such urgency. Like he needed her for air. Like he couldn’t live without this.
A second finger joined the first inside her and she bucked against him. Riding his fingers.
“Fuck, I’m so goddamned hard. Feel how hard I am.” He grabbed her hand and put it on his cock. Which was indeed very, very hard.
“That’s right,” he hissed. “Fuck, baby. Grab me harder. Jerk it.”
She did and he made a tortured noise of pleasure. Then his hands were back at her opening. “So fucking hot and wet. This cunt. Fuck.” His fingers were less expert than last time he’d touched her there, but he never once stopped moving them. Exploring her outer lips, then thrusting inside and pressing against each wall like he was watching for her pleasure to find out which she liked best.
And oh God, she liked all of it. When her back arched in pleasure
, he cursed. “I gotta eat this pussy. Move up the bed. You gotta give me that hot cunt.”
“Hunter, your back,” she tried to protest even as he kissed down her chest and latched on her nipple. I don’t want to hurt y—”
He bit her nipple.
“Ouch!” She yanked back only to see him grinning up at her in the dim light provided by the bathroom.
“Then let me eat out the cunt that belongs to me.”
He tried to bend to move his head down her stomach but his face went taut with pain.
The goddamned lunatic was going to hurt his back all because he was too horny to listen to good sense.
“Fine, fine,” she said, pushing him back and scooting up the bed. She had to let go of his glorious cock, which was a shame. But as soon as her hips got near Hunter, he pushed her legs open and then settled between them, his face buried in her center.
He ate at her with abandon, all sorts of sucking and slurping noises as he’d suck her in and then let go with a loud pop. But it wasn’t until he focused on her clit, his long, talented tongue repeatedly lapping forcefully at her small bud that the world split apart.
Oh God— It was— She couldn’t—
“Hunter,” she cried out, her thighs clenching around his head.
He continued suckling her all through the earth-shaking orgasm.
She collapsed back to the bed and for several seconds, Hunter continued suckling gently on her clit. Then he laid the softest kisses all over her pelvis. Up her stomach.
It was so good, so beautiful. He was so… She still didn’t have words. All she knew was that she wanted to make him feel good in return. Better than good.
She scooted back down the bed with her legs open, ready to take him in her body. But as Hunter lifted to crawl on top of her, he grunted again in pain. His jaw flexed and he kept moving anyway
“Hunter, stop.” She rolled off the bed and he immediately reached for her. But she shook her head. “I don’t want to hurt you. Does it hurt when you stand up?”
“Oh.” Hunter blinked, then frowned. “I don’t know?”
“Try it.” The dim lighting made Isobel feel brave. Or maybe it was Hunter that made her brave. He’d just been kissing her stomach and she hadn’t stopped to freak out once about how he’d think it was too squishy or fat.