by Billi Jean
“I don’t—”
“Oh, you do. Without me keeping you on your toes, you’d have gotten your butt in more trouble than it already has. Shit, I mean, you’ve already been wounded twice!” He settled down and squeezed her hand. “You wouldn’t have if we’d trusted each other, so I take part of the blame, but you don’t explain, don’t wait—just jump in.”
She shrugged when he pinned her with a no-nonsense stare, but other than that, she stayed as she was.
“Just talk to me. Trust me. Have I steered you wrong yet?”
She thought about that for a bit longer than he’d hoped, clearly not easy with him, or the topic, he wasn’t sure. He was just about ready to poke her when she exhaled and dropped her head down, not meeting his eyes.
“All of it,” he added when she took a deep breath.
“I’m not sure you want all of it,” she said in a quiet, dull tone.
“I do,” he assured her. “Start with the bitch of a sister.”
Her back went ramrod straight, as if he’d cursed in church. “She wasn’t—”
“Oh, yeah, she was. Now, come on. Tell me how it happened.”
Hunter was one of those unique individuals who thought people were good. He wasn’t sure why after what she’d lived through, maybe because she was young still, or maybe she wanted people to be good. Either way she had a hard time when they weren’t.
Why do people do this?
That question still got to him. It was so…innocent, when he knew she wasn’t. She was a woman. She’d been to hell several times. He knew damn well that might mean…well, might mean she’d been raped. The thought burned his gut, but it drove him nuts, too, not knowing.
“She was always my elder sister. They called her that, but Margaret didn’t love me, or even like me,” Hunter said in a whisper. “I didn’t know that, though, you know? I thought she was just being a big sister. Teasing, I mean, doing things to me, but she…didn’t like me.”
Hated her was what she was saying, but couldn’t.
“I see. And?”
“We were out on the river. It’s more of a creek, really, behind the house here.” She gestured to the room with her hand. She was back to squeezing her hair dry of water. “It was a cold, snowy day, maybe even what you’d call a blizzard, I don’t know. Anyway, we were out, but down near the creek, so we were kinda out of the wind.”
This wasn’t sounding good. Not the dull way she talked or the theme of the story.
“She let me go with her that day. It was her idea, even.” She tipped her head, but kept her scarred side to him. “I was excited, thinking she’d come back from college, and maybe liked me,” she said, then laughed without any humor. “She wanted to play a game on the ice we’d never played before. I was worried. It was near that time of year that the ice wasn’t as thick as it had been, but she was so full of happiness and being nice to me.”
“For once?”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “So I played. She went on first, then I did. We had to count to ten, I think, and stand there once the ice cracked. Her third go the ice had cracked a lot. I didn’t want her to go, but she laughed and said I was chicken, but she wasn’t. She got to three and it broke. The current is fast, you know, and she caught herself on the ice with her arms, but even when I went out to tug on her, I could feel her being pulled away.”
Hunter paused and started in on the other side of her hair, doing the wringing thing on that side too. Her hair was really a light blonde, a true blonde, he knew, since he’d had the pleasure of sinking between her silky thighs.
“She begged me to use my powers and save her. It was the first time in my life I’d heard her say such a thing. The first time I realized that she knew I was different. I didn’t even deny I had them, but I couldn’t control them, and I couldn’t save her. All I did was make it worse. Water and electricity, you know, they don’t mix.”
He frowned and got her attention on him by taking her towel and her hand. “And, what happened? You said she didn’t die. You simply thought she had.”
She licked her lips and he reached over and handed her the glass of water off the bureau. After taking a small sip, she held the glass on her lap and focused on that.
“I tried to pull her free, using my powers to help me be stronger, but the more I pulled, the louder she screamed, then sparks flew, and at the same time something seemed to yank her from me—the current, something—and she was gone. Under the ice and…gone.”
“I knew what that meant,” she whispered, shaking her head. “The year before a boy I liked had died when he’d gone under the ice near his house. He’d died. I knew the cold would kill her more than the lack of oxygen. There was nothing to do, nothing I could do. I tried. I shot at the ice with my power and it exploded open, but she wasn’t there. She wasn’t anywhere,” she added in a horrified whisper. “I thought I’d lost her. I thought she’d died because of me. If I’d just had control, she would have lived. Maybe Jonathon, too. Maybe everything would have been different.”
“I was a wreck,” she said with a shrug.
He could imagine. She always went all out for everyone—the gunshot and the knife wound being two big examples of that. Hunter would have been more than a wreck to see someone she thought she was responsible for dying in front of her.
“A man walked out of the woods,” she said after a long silence. “At the time I was so relieved to see him, it didn’t occur to me to wonder why he was there and why he didn’t get upset and worried over what I was saying. He simply walked with me, searching for her, and listening to me. I was…frantic, I guess. Maybe hysterical?” she asked, glancing at him.
“Yeah, probably, having someone get sucked under a river of ice would do that.”
His joke fell on deaf ears, because she just frowned.
“Was the guy Satan?”
“No,” she murmured. “Well, I don’t think he was. He could have been, I guess, but he stopped me after a while. I’m not sure how long. He said that if I wanted to save my sister, I still could.” She took a deep breath and held it, then let it out. “That’s when I made my bargain.”
“For your sister’s life?”
“And the power to control my gifts.”
“They were out of control?”
“Yes, I couldn’t use them most of the time, and would often break things simply from touching them or walking too close to something and drag it off its center with my current. It’s hard to explain.”
He believed that, but he also bet his last dime she had more control than she was saying.
“So you broke things, like…?”
She frowned, clearly thinking on the man still, and his bargain. “Uh, you know, antiques. They’re irreplaceable and cost a fortune.”
He grunted. Sounded like horseshit to him. “Go on. The guy? He offered to help you?”
“No, he had his own gifts and used them to help me search, a kind of glowing light that kept him warm, he said, and revealed things he wanted to find. He helped me find where my sister had crawled from the creek.”
“So you found her?”
“Yes, but she was gone.” She shook her head. “She had never been dead, you know? She had gone in on purpose, so I would make this bargain.”
“Why would she do that?”
Hunter was silent a long time, long enough for him to dry and for her to fiddle with the glass and grow uncomfortable. Finally she met his eyes. At the pain reflected in her expression, he wished he didn’t have to ask her such things. But instincts guided him and he’d gotten this far in life listening to them. For Hunter, he was guessing, this story was painful, but had to come out.
“Her family was cursed. Insanity, I think, but she was more or less doing as she was told—by Satan. He wanted me on board, I guess, and she was okay with helping.”
“Where is she now?”
“Margaret? I don’t know. She was back at the house, as promised, when I returned. I got my stuff and left without saying anyth
ing to her. What was there to say? Thanks for handing me over to the devil?”
“So you knew?”
“Yes, I knew that by agreeing to work for Satan, I would give her back her life and gain the ability to control my powers. It wasn’t until later that I learned she was…insane and tricked me. At the time, I thought I was doing something that would be good. I thought she’d crawled somewhere to die or had fallen back in the ice. The man with me said he couldn’t help me, but I could save her if I…well, did as he asked.”
“How was the bargain laid out?”
“You mean in what terms?”
“Yeah.”
“I would gain control of my powers and Margaret wouldn’t drown if I served Satan until my debt was paid—or ten years had passed.”
He whistled. “And what was your debt?”
“Margaret’s life.”
“If she died?”
Hunter tilted her head and considered that. “I don’t know. She’s gone. I think dead, but I’m not sure. Everyone is dead that once lived here.”
“It’s been ten years. But what about then? Did she die that day?”
“No, she didn’t—at least, I don’t think so,” she added, her attention on the past. “She looked up when I walked in. Our eyes met, and I can still remember the realization I had that she’d never died, never even been harmed. It was her smile,” she added in such a quiet voice he had to lean in to hear her. “It was there, in her smile, the knowledge that she’d won something. At the time, all I knew was I’d been tricked.”
“So you left.”
“I did. It was as if someone had flipped a switch and a light had revealed how much everyone in that house hated me being there. So I packed and left. I have no idea what brought me here, of all places,” she added, meeting his eyes for once.
“Sometimes our minds do strange things when we’re threatened,” he assured her. “Here was safe—no one is here—and it’s deserted.”
She sniffed and rubbed her wrist under her nose. “Maybe.”
“So, your bargain. Explain that. How did it work? Were you supposed to bring Satan people? Like Margaret brought you in?”
“No, I never did that. I was left alone for a long time, only occasionally contacted until Trouble found me.”
He frowned, unsure if he believed that. “So they made you this promise then you had control of your powers, and voila, you were on your own?”
“Pretty much, yeah. I had some contact with Koko, a truly disgusting demon, but it was chilling enough to know they could come for me, at any time, and didn’t. I can’t explain it, but it’s like now, anytime I expect Lucifer or Koko to show up, to be here, hurt you or kill you or—”
“Whoa, whoa, so you’re saying you lived for all that time, worried they would show up? That’s why you settled in L.A. robbing banks, isn’t it? And why you didn’t live at the coven and why you were always alone on those tapes.”
“Tapes?”
He shrugged. The cat was out of the bag now.
“I tracked you for a while. You were with other immortals, but not. Mostly alone, mostly partying, but going home alone, putting on the show, but never following through, I might add,” he teased. “How did you do that? And not upset those guys? Hell, I’d have been parking my ass on your couch and refusing to leave.”
She shook her head and groaned. “You spied on me? For how long?”
Tricky. “Ah, a good long while.”
Instead of upsetting her even more, his answer seemed to calm her down. “That’s why you’ve always been so…well, like this with me!” she accused, right back to being upset.
“Like what?” he asked, sitting straighter.
“You’ve always acted like you’d known me for years and could do whatever with me!”
“Well, maybe that explains my thought process, but you’ve not been shy with being comfortable enough around me to let me in that treasure chest. Something I know damn well you don’t do—you big tease.”
“Kincaid!”
“Rick.”
“You are a…a… There’s no word for you, is there?” she asked.
He reached over and lifted her on his lap, kissing her pouty lips once just because he could. She didn’t stop him.
“Why did you watch me?”
“I had nothing better to do.”
“Liar.”
She tugged at his towel, and dropped hers right after.
“Tell me.”
It was nearly impossible to answer her when she reached down and started rolling her palms over the head of his dick. He tried, though, because he wanted to give her anything, everything he could when she gave him such complete trust. He caught her hands and pulled them to his mouth and kissed her slender fingers.
“I was hooked from day one, before the club, and now I know why. You’re one in a million, Hunter. You survived this.” He brushed his fingers along the line inside her amazing breasts. “And I know there was more, a hell of a lot more, but look at you. You rock my world. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, so you should have me down by now, but just in case you do need to hear it, I’m not leaving your side now that I’m here.”
“Oh?” she whispered. “Is that so?”
That bedroom voice did things to him. But her confidence was back, and he’d be damned if he’d spoil that for her by not laying it all out there. He was a guy. She was one hell of a woman. He cupped his hands under each of her gorgeous boobs and cradled them so he could kiss each inch of the baby soft curves. “That’s so. That’s so much so that I want to make love to you all day instead of heading back to creepyville.”
“Rick,” she moaned when he got his face in between each mound and kissed the silvery mark on her chest. She’d died. Died. She’d tried to leave him. He was making sure he never left her side again.
“That sound good to you?”
She fluttered her eyes open, the milky white one just as damn beautiful to him as the blue. She had this way of staring him right in the eyes, even with only one working properly, that did odd things to his chest. It was as if she was latching on to his gaze, hoping he’d not look away. He never did. Never will.
“Your men, what are they going to do about that?”
“I never counted on this being easy, baby.” He tapped her nose. “Now, mind on me, not the men. Rickie is ready for some of this.”
Surprising him, she gripped his shoulders and stopped him from lifting her so he could slip inside.
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded.
“Doing what?” he asked, pressing her backward with his bigger body.
She went and thoughts of tossing her down and diving into her flooded him. He wanted to show her such pleasure she’d forget all the pain. But he wanted to do it his way, so he could get her to scream from every imaginable position.
“Not this. Trusting me?” she asked so quietly he had to strain to hear her. It was as if she was sharing a secret or something, instead of asking a question. But the question was loaded. He lifted his head from the paradise of her silky skin. She met his eyes, clearly trusting him to answer.
Am I rushing her into this?
Probably, but he’d never wanted a woman as badly as he wanted the one in his arms right now. She didn’t push him away or demand an answer, which added to the intense emotions rising between them. She’d bared part of her soul to him. He knew that. Only part, though. He wanted it all. Every detail, so he could smooth them away like wrinkles on his bunk in the barracks.
“You saved my life. Why wouldn’t I trust you?” he finally murmured against her stomach. “Twice.”
“You don’t even know me,” she argued, but let him move lower so he could brush kisses along her hip bones.
“I know you,” he told her firmly, kissing his way back to her mouth. He lingered there, sucking on her pink bottom lip but not giving into the urge to deepen the kiss and move this along faster. Rickie rested on her stomach, but he kept the rest of his bulk of
f her. Her wound was better today, but it wasn’t completely gone, like he’d thought immortals healed. He shouldn’t have made love to her—the jarring had to hurt—but she’d sworn it hadn’t, and he had to accept her moans had been of surprised pleasure, not pain.
“I know you,” he repeated against her cheek.
“You don’t. You don’t know—”
He stilled the protest with a gentle nip at the tender flesh of her earlobe. She shivered in his arms, dumping a dose of rocket fuel to his already revved system. Her breasts were so soft against his chest, and she’d moved her grip to his shoulders, not caressing, but not pushing him away. Hesitant, he guessed.
“I know you rock my world. I know you’re sweeter than any of those candies you keep in your backpack. I know you nibble on your lip when you’re worried and your mind moves at a million miles per second when you’re thinking. I know you hold your breath when I move too close,” he added, and devoured her mouth with a deep kiss. She tasted so good and kissed him with such abandon that he had to slow down. He wanted to make love to her slowly, as if she was made of fragile, delicate porcelain. Something told him she never took things slowly, something about the way she didn’t push him when they kissed, but seemed to savor every second.
The sweetest hands in the universe slid down his chest and took a hold of Rickie—a hold he was already addicted to. She used such tenderness, gripping his cock as if it was as delicate as she was as she stroked him. How could he stop that? She worked his flesh with both hands, all the while devastating him with a kiss that had him wanting something a whole hell of a lot sweeter. He was going to taste her, every single inch of her, until she climaxed from his mouth alone.
He headed down, but she blew him away by refusing to let him go. He chuckled, but won out because he was the man on this wild ride. With a desperate groan, he dove between her thighs, addicted with the first lick.