Hunter couldn’t say what had crystallised inside him. Only the moment Ellie had told him she wasn’t going back to being Vin’s sister anymore had made him aware that not only would she never be that to him again, he didn’t want her to be either.
Standing against the stove, her arms crossed over her breasts, red hair loose over her shoulders, she looked strong and sexy and very self-possessed. Her chin lifted a little in challenge. She had black jeans on today and a very loose black T-shirt, the strap of a bright purple tank top peeking out from underneath the T-shirt. And all the confusion in his head became very clear.
He wanted to touch her. Wanted her to touch him. What Vin didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. And Ellie would be gone in around two and a half weeks anyway. So why not indulge himself? She wanted him. He wanted her. There was no drama, right?
What would it be like to be inside her?
It was the one thing he’d never done. The one thing Liz had never manipulated out of him. Oh, he’d begged her for it—he’d been seventeen, after all. But she’d always refused. In her twisted mind, the fact that she’d never screwed him had meant she’d never cheated on her husband. And afterwards his virginity had remained the one thing he’d kept for himself. The one thing no one could take from him.
He’d never felt the urge to give that to anyone before. Not even a glimmer. The power inherent in keeping it was too precious to give up. But that was before Ellie. Before he’d touched her. Before he’d felt her around his fingers. Hot, tight, wet.
His body hardened. Became restless and aching. Suddenly he couldn’t seem to think about anything else.
Jesus, was he insane? This morning at the site with Vin all he’d been able to think about was the trust Vin had given him. And how he’d broken that trust. Now all he could think about was touching Ellie. Screwing Ellie. Two days ago the thought of a woman touching him was enough to make his skin crawl with distaste, and yet now the only thing he could think about was Ellie’s hands on him.
Yeah, he was insane all right. This situation wasn’t only messed up. It was fucked up beyond all recognition. Spinning wildly out of control.
Really, he should walk out of here. Keep the distance between him and Ellie. Do the denial thing she’d accused him of doing. But he couldn’t. He was pinned beneath the weight of all the years he’d spent without touch. And right in front of him was the one woman who’d broken through that barrier. Who could ease the hunger that gripped him by the throat and refused to let go.
Hunter forgot about the wedding. Forgot about Vin. He forgot about everything except his need for Ellie.
“Come here,” he said softly, and he didn’t make it a request. A demand was the only thing he had room for.
She blinked at him. “What?”
“You heard. Come here, sweetness. Now.”
Her intake of breath was audible in the quiet of the kitchen. The look in her eyes changed, the silver spark of anger lurking in the gray depths becoming something else. She dropped her arms, pushed away from the stove and walked toward him.
He couldn’t breathe as she came closer. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t take his eyes off hers. She stopped right in front of him, a flush creeping over her cheeks, making her eyes gleam bright. “What do you want?”
Hunter didn’t reply. Instead he sat up, put his hands on her narrow hips and pulled her forward so she stood between his thighs. She made a soft sound, one that sounded like surprise, her hands curling into little fists at her sides.
He looked up at her, into her eyes. Saw the glitter of desire.
I used to imagine you in my head…. I wanted you so badly…
“Hunter,” she said thickly. “What are you doing?”
“What you want me to do.” With slow, leisurely movements he began to undo the buttons on her jeans.
She took a ragged sounding breath. “But you don’t want…want this.”
He opened the denim and pushed her jeans down, revealing the soft paleness of her stomach. Today her underwear was cotton. Bright green with little blue stars. “Whatever gave you that idea?” He leaned forward, pressed his mouth to the sensitive skin above the waistband of her knickers, the scent of her filling his head, heady and sweet as incense. He closed his eyes, inhaling her, feeling the shiver that went through her.
“We need to talk about this,” she whispered.
“You really want to talk?” He let the backs of his fingers stroke gently over her bare skin, prompting another shiver. “I think we can do better than talking.”
“What, and have you distance me again? I don’t think so.” She tensed, preparing to move away, but Hunter tightened his hold, keeping her right where she was. Guilt threaded through the desire because she was right, they did need to talk. It would be the right thing to do. But shit, he’d always been fucking useless at doing the right thing. And besides, why bother when guilt only added spice to the mix? It always had done.
He slid an arm around her waist, keeping her close, then he let his hand drift over the material of her knickers, pressing lightly right where her clit was, circling.
Ellie gave a soft little gasp, a tremble shaking her body. “Hunter…”
He looked up at her, continuing to stroke her through the cotton with his thumb, watching her flush deepen, her white teeth sinking into her bottom lip as he pressed harder.
He had so many boundaries and yet she made him want to test them. Made him want to push through them. She’d touched him and the distaste, the crawling, tainted feeling he’d always experienced, had disappeared. Got buried under all that heat. And now he wanted… Jesus, he fucking wanted…
“Touch me, sweetness,” he murmured. “Put your hands on me. Hold onto me while I make you come.”
She shivered again, her whole body trembling. Then her fingers dug into his shoulder while the palm of her other hand brushed over his head. He couldn’t stop the automatic tightening of his muscles, a whisper of discomfort brushing over him. But then it was gone and all he could feel was the burn of her touch. His arm tightened around her, holding her close, and then he slid his fingers beneath the waistband of her green, star-scattered underwear, pushing down through the tangle of silky, copper curls to the wet heat he’d felt beneath the material.
Ellie gave a small cry, her fingers digging harder into his shoulder. Her other hand slid down over his head to grip the back of his neck. Christ…the touch of her hand on his bare skin felt like…like…being brushed with fire.
And he ignited.
He jerked her toward him and pulled down her underwear roughly, baring as much of her as he could. Then he bent farther and covered that delicious tangle of copper curls with his mouth.
Ellie gasped. “Oh God…”
Her weight shifted as she swayed, her body curving over his, her hands slipping down his back, her slender frame shivering.
He held her tight, tasting her, circling her hard little clit with his tongue, while he pulled her jeans and knickers down farther to give him better access. Then he slid his hand between her thighs and eased two fingers into the tight, wet heart of her.
“Harder, Hunter. Up a little bit. Yes…that’s it. Good boy. Oh, very good boy…”
The flashback hit him hard because the moment Ellie had touched him he’d forgotten. Forgotten everything. But now memory flooded him. Of the afternoon Liz gave him his first lesson in how to pleasure a woman. An unwelcome, unwanted memory.
He shut his eyes, fighting the voice in his head. Fighting the past that threatened to pull him under, the feeling of dirtiness that began its slow, inexorable creep over his skin.
Then Ellie gave a soft moan and her nails scraped his back through the cotton of his T-shirt. The pain was negligible but it was enough.
The past receded and Hunter poured every ounce of concentration he had into the woman in his arms. Into the blinding heat and desire and musky sweetness of what was happening right now.
Ellie. And oh Christ, she was the best thing he’d ever tas
ted. Spicy and sweet and salty all at once. The feeling of her curled over him, the heat of her around him was so intense and he was so fucking hard. She felt so fucking good. Tasted so fucking good.
Ellie cried out, the sound of a sob catching in her throat, inner muscles clenched around his fingers. Hunter held her tightly as the shudders racked her, the memories, the flashbacks, all wiped away by the heat of the woman in his arms. By her taste. By her scent.
Wiped clean.
He closed his eyes, holding her for a little while because he was so hard it hurt.
Then, as her body grew lax, he moved, adjusting her so her weight was on his knee, her head on his shoulder. Taking her hand, he put it on the fly of his jeans, pressed down.
“I want your hand on my cock,” he ordered softly, pulling open his jeans. “Do it now, Ellie.”
She didn’t say anything, only did what he wanted, the cool touch of her fingers sliding into his boxers nearly making him come on the spot. Then she held him, squeezing, and he groaned.
He could feel her breath against the side of his neck and then the brush of her mouth on the bare skin above the neckline of his T-shirt. The softness of it seared him and he put his hand over hers, urging her faster, harder.
Ellie made a soft noise, turned her head, and he felt her teeth on his skin, closing down on the sensitive place where neck meets shoulder. The bite sent an arc of searing hot pleasure right down his spine so that he gasped her name. And came.
Chapter Eight
Ellie’s heartbeat thundered in her head. She could feel the aftershocks shaking him, his breathing uneven and hoarse. The salty, musky taste of his skin filled her mouth, the scent of him everywhere, and she didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to even breathe in case the moment shattered.
She should have pulled away from him before, she knew she should. But she couldn’t resist him, hungry for anything he’d give her. And she was glad she hadn’t now.
God, she’d done that to him. Made him sound like that. Made him demand like that. It gave her the most intense satisfaction she’d ever had. Not even hearing she’d got the job in Tokyo had made her feel quite the same.
She turned her head into his neck and shut her eyes, breathing him in, wanting to hold on to the closeness with him for as long as she could. Because sooner or later, there would be distance. There always was with Hunter.
He shifted and she thought that perhaps this was the moment when he’d push her away, but he didn’t. Instead she felt his body move and then the rasp of a paper towel he must have got from the roll on the table as he cleaned both of them up. She kept her eyes closed, pressed her cheek against the warmth of his skin.
Neither of them said anything, the silence a still, waiting presence between them.
Eventually, because it wasn’t enough to sit against him, she put a hand on his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through the cotton of his T-shirt. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word as she let her hand slide down again, all the way down to where his jeans were still undone. Ellie opened her eyes, circling him with her fingers. God, he was still semi-hard. She idly ran her thumb along the smooth, heated skin of his cock, stroking, watching as he got even harder.
A shudder ran through him, a harsh intake of breath in her ear.
She moved, sliding off his lap to kneel down between his thighs. She wanted to taste him. Take him in her mouth. Give him the same pleasure as he’d given her.
“Ellie,” he murmured hoarsely. “Stop.”
But she barely heard him. This had been one of her darkest, most secret fantasies and the thought of finally being able to indulge it was intoxicating. She bent her head, holding him in one fist. Then suddenly strong fingers were in her hair, jerking her back so sharply tears started in her eyes.
“I said fucking stop!”
Dazed, she looked up at him. Darkness burned in his eyes, the skin drawn tight over his cheekbones, his lips drawn back in what was almost a snarl. He looked wild, dangerous, anger blazing so brightly she couldn’t look away. She’d never seen him display it so openly before. Never seen him less than silent and still and contained. But his expression seemed almost glazed, as if he wasn’t really seeing her but someone or something else.
His hand twisted brutally in her hair and a little whimper of pain escaped her. “Let me go,” she managed to gasp out. “You’re hurting me.”
Hunter blinked, his gaze abruptly focusing on her. “Shit,” he whispered and released her, thick, black lashes veiling the black glitter of his eyes.
An icy feeling began to unravel inside her. Whatever was going on in that head of his, whatever he’d been looking at just then, it wasn’t anything good. “I think you’d better tell me what the hell is going on, Hunter,” she quietly.
He ran a hand over his head, spiking up his short black hair. “Give me some space a second.”
“But—”
“Please, Ellie.”
Reluctantly, she rose to her feet and took a step back from him. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, tension in every line of his body.
The chill inside her intensified a little more. She’d wanted to know more about him, know the man behind those opaque black eyes. But now she wasn’t so sure. Somewhere inside the man she thought she knew burned a rage she wasn’t sure she was equipped to deal with. A terrible, hungry rage. It frightened her and yet…
It fascinates you too.
She took a small, silent breath. Yeah, it did. It really did. Rage, passion and a whole raft of other emotions lurked beneath the surface of the man who sat in front of her now and yeah, she was fascinated. Drawn to him. He was more dangerous, more complicated and far more intense than she’d ever imagined.
“So,” she said in a voice that was more breathless than she wanted it to be. “Are you going to tell me why you nearly scalped me?”
He didn’t move or speak for a long time. Then, when she thought he wouldn’t say a word, he lifted his head, the look on his face set and hard. “You need to listen when I tell you to stop. I don’t say it for the fun of it.”
Guilt sat like lead in her stomach. “I’m sorry. But how was I to know you didn’t like me going down on you? I don’t normally get guys trying to pull my hair off.”
He was silent a minute. “I’m fucked up, Ellie,” he said eventually. “Seriously fucked up. And I’m not going to make any apology for it.”
“Fine. I get it.” She put her hands in her pockets, bit her lip. “Anything you want to talk about?”
“No.” The word was so final, so certain, there wasn’t any arguing with it. “And I never will. You need to understand that right now.”
So he didn’t even trust her enough for that. Her jaw ached, she was holding it so tight. “I said I wouldn’t ask questions or demand answers. And I won’t. You don’t need to be so bloody aggressive about it.”
“So stop when I fucking say stop. Or does that kind of respect only apply to women?”
Shame spread through her. She wanted to look away from him but didn’t, making herself bear the pitiless look in his dark eyes. “No, of course not,” she said hoarsely. “I’m sorry. I should have. But you told me not to touch you before and then you liked it. So I thought…” She stopped, bit her lip. “I’m confused, okay? One minute you’re telling me to touch you, the next you’re jerking my head away. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how you want me to act.”
Hunter’s mouth tightened. He leaned back in the chair, did up his jeans then glanced away, running a hand over his short black hair. For a second he did his usual silent thing, a muscle flicking in the side of his jaw. Then he let out an audible breath and looked back at her.
“I didn’t expect this thing with you, Ellie. It’s new. And it’s taking me some time to get my head around it. Christ, you’ve been Vin’s little sister for over sixteen years and in the space of one week, you’ve got me thinking about you in a way I never thought I would.”
The raw honesty in
his voice hurt. “Oh.” She swallowed. “Is that…is that really so very bad?”
“Yeah, sweetness. It’s bad. It’s fucking terrible.”
Great. Wonderful. Ellie blinked fiercely against the prickle of yet more tears. “Then why don’t you—”
“But I can’t stop thinking about it,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About touching you. Tasting you. Screwing you senseless.”
Her stomach dropped away in a dizzying fall. He wanted her. Couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Screwing you senseless…
A low pulse of desire gripped her, heat between her thighs. “You can. I want you to. I want you to screw me senseless. I’ve wanted you for years and years, Hunter. You know that already.”
His gaze remained opaque as black water. “But I hurt you. And that’s something I never, ever want to do.”
“You won’t, not again. I promise I’ll listen to you next time, okay? I’ll do whatever you say.” Yeah, it was pathetic, but she’d spent too many years with only empty, aching fantasies for company. She’d had a taste of reality and, God help her, she wanted more. Whatever he’d give her before she had to leave for Tokyo.
Hunter ran another hand over his head. “Ah Christ, sweetness,” he said quietly. “You deserve a shitload more than I can give you.”
“Probably. But I don’t care. I’ve waited too long for you.”
He looked away, saying nothing. Then, abruptly he pushed himself out of the chair. “You need to give me some space before we do anything else,” he said after a moment. “Until I’ve got this situation straight in my head.” Another pause. “What are you doing on Saturday?”
The question wasn’t one she’d been expecting, and it took her a moment to process it. “This Saturday? Uh…nothing, I don’t think.”
“I need a date for my brother’s wedding. Do you want to come with me?”
Taking Him (Lies We Tell) Page 10