by Sarah Morgan
Looking up at him, I slid my hands round the bare skin of his back and then pushed his jeans past his hips and down his legs.
Hunter had been my first and they say you always remember your first, but even if he hadn’t been, he wasn’t a man any woman was likely to forget.
He was perfect to look at and I devoured him greedily with my eyes before leaning forward and taking the whole hot, hard, smooth length of him into my mouth.
His breathing changed and it gave me a feeling of satisfaction to know I affected him as deeply as he affected me.
I took my time. Exploring him with the tip of my tongue, taking him deep, teasing him until he groaned and sank his hands into my hair. I felt the hard bite of his fingers against my scalp and then he eased away from me, flattened me to the bed and came down on top of me.
‘I want you again.’ His voice was thickened, his eyes dark and dangerous as he held my gaze.
‘I want you, too.’
He kissed his way along my cheek to my mouth and I felt the rough scrape of his jaw against my skin. My stomach tensed with anticipation. I didn’t understand how I could want him again so badly after what we’d just done.
He slid his hands to my hips and flipped me over. I felt his hand slide down my spine, linger on the curve of my bottom and then slide between my thighs and I closed my eyes because he knew exactly where to touch me, exactly how to drive me wild.
He pulled me up so that I was on my knees, anchored my hips with his hands and slid deep. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t see him but my erotic imagination soared into overdrive. I could visualize how we must look, him with those powerful thighs pressed hard up against mine so there was no space between us. Me, my hair tumbling forward over my face, my bottom lifted to him as I knelt before him like some pagan sacrifice. He drew back and then thrust again and I moaned, feeling every inch of him. I was so aroused, so sensitized, the pleasure close to agonizing. My neck was damp with sweat, my whole body trembling with every deliberate thrust. I knew I wasn’t going to last. He knew it, too, but this time it seemed he wasn’t going to make me wait. Or maybe he was the one who didn’t want to wait, because he reached forward and slid those skilled, expert fingers over my slick flesh. The first ripple of my orgasm drew a groan from deep in his throat. I felt myself tighten around him and then my loss of control became his and he erupted in a forceful climax, holding me tightly as he buried himself deep. It was primal, primitive and nothing like anything we’d shared before.
Afterward I didn’t think I was capable of moving. I felt wrung out, shattered and a bit stunned but he eased away from me, rolled me over and came down on top of me, his gaze fixed on mine with disturbing intensity.
I stared up at him, trying to look cool about the whole thing, but I felt as if I’d suffered a direct hit from a meteorite. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, so when he reached across and pulled another condom out of the drawer by his bed, I gave a whimper of protest.
‘Hunter, I can’t. I’m too sensitive. You can’t possibly be able to—Oh...’
He slid his hand under me and this time he entered me slowly, by degrees, taking his time, proving once again that his self-control was so much better developed than mine, and I discovered I wasn’t too sensitive. I discovered that sex with Hunter was an addiction I wasn’t likely to recover from anytime soon.
I wrapped my legs around him, slid my hands up his chest and stroked my hands over the hard bulge of his biceps.
The excitement was almost unbearable and I knew he felt it, too, because he kept his eyes on mine the whole time, which made the whole experience more intimate. There was no way either of us could not know who we were with. He was as into me as I was him. Our mouths fused, his tongue stroked mine and he thrust deeper. Dimly, in the back of my mind, I realized I was in trouble. I was supposed to be getting him out of my system. I was supposed to be detached and just interested in sex, but this felt like so much more than that. I tried to grab hold of that thought and work out just how much trouble I was in, but his hand cupped my face as he surged into me again and again, adjusting the angle until the whole of me was flooded with intense white heat. With every skilled stroke, he proved just how well he knew me and I moaned his name, losing all hope of playing it cool or hiding my feelings. He was so strong, so masculine in every way and everything we did was on a different level.
I felt myself tighten around him, heard him swear under his breath as my body gripped his and we both lost control at the same moment. I held on to his broad shoulders, battered by the powerful surge of pleasure, swamped by a wash of sensation that threatened to drown me. He lowered his mouth to mine and we kissed right through it so that there wasn’t a single part of us that wasn’t involved and engaged.
Total sex, I thought. I’d given all of me. Everything.
Everything except my heart.
We stayed like that for a long time, his weight crushing me, my arms holding on to him. Then he seemed to realize he was probably too heavy and he rolled onto his back and took me with him so I was curved against him. His arm kept me locked against his side. My head rested on his shoulder, which basically meant I was staring at his chest. Women probably would have bought tickets to see this view.
His arm tightened. ‘I missed you.’
It was the last thing I expected him to say and I closed my eyes tightly, trying to push back the emotions that threatened to engulf me.
‘Really? Because I hardly noticed you were gone.’
‘So Hayley was lying when she said you cried every night for six months?’
I sensed from his tone he was smiling. ‘She was exaggerating. She always exaggerates.’
‘No, she doesn’t. She’s a scientist. She bases everything on fact. She said you lost weight.’
‘That was intentional. I was training hard.’
There was a brief pause. His grip on me tightened. ‘I’m sorry I made you cry, Ninja.’
‘I’m not. If it hadn’t been for you, I never would have dated men like Brian and think what I would have missed.’ I made light of it because the alternative was getting heavy and I didn’t want that, but when I tried to sit up he held me tightly.
‘I hurt you.’
‘I don’t really want to talk about this.’
‘Why?’
‘Because if we talk about it, I have to remember my awful behaviour.’
He rolled onto his side and looked at me, a frown on his face. ‘Awful?’
‘I was so needy. I smothered you.’
‘You were having a difficult time.’ He stroked my hair back from my face. ‘How are things with your parents now?’
‘Okay. We don’t see that much of them. I have Hayley and we have a great group of friends. I suppose our friends are our family. I’m sorry for my parents.’ It had taken a long time to feel that way, but it was true. ‘They were so wrong for each other. They just made each other miserable.’
‘And they made you miserable.’
I shrugged. ‘Plenty of people are fucked up by their families.’
‘That’s true.’
I realized I didn’t know much about his family. He’d told me once that his mother had left when he was young and that he’d lived with his father. It had all sounded pretty normal to me, but most things were compared to my crazy, dysfunctional family. I realized now that my own altered perspective had stopped me asking more questions. ‘Were you?’
His grip tightened. ‘I was fine.’
That wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to know more. Last time we’d been together I’d been focused on my own issues, but now I’d moved on and I wanted to know about him. ‘Was that why you spent so much time at the gym? Because home was grim?’ At the time I hadn’t even questioned it. I’d been so focused on myself and my own problems I hadn’t thought to question why he’d spent so mu
ch time at the gym. I’d presumed it was because martial arts were his passion.
He rolled onto his back and sat up. ‘Do you want some food?’
I wasn’t really listening.
I was remembering what he’d said on that first day, about everyone having something in their lives. At the time I’d been so swamped in my own misery I hadn’t picked up on it.
‘I want you to talk to me.’
‘I need something to eat.’ Without looking at me, he pulled on his jeans and strolled out of the room to the kitchen and I sensed he wasn’t walking away because he was hungry.
I realized now that when we’d been together, I’d been the one to do all the talking.
I slid out of bed, too, pulled on my shirt and followed him into the kitchen.
‘When we were together, you never talked about yourself.’
Without looking at me, he turned the heat up under the pan. ‘You had enough worries of your own. And anyway, talking doesn’t help.’
‘It did for me.’
‘Good. It’s important to know what works.’
‘I want to talk about you for a change.’
He didn’t turn. ‘Talking doesn’t change the facts.’
‘But knowing the facts can sometimes help someone understand.’
‘What do you want to understand?’
In my head there was a vision of him squatting down in front of the little boy in the gym. Hunter Black, who had trained stars in Hollywood, giving all his attention to a child who was being bullied.
‘Tell me about your family.’ I pushed my hair away from my face, conscious that wild sex had left it tangled and messy. ‘I mean, do they even know you’re back? Have you told them?’
‘There’s no one to tell. My mother lives in Spain now.’
‘What about your dad? You once told me your dad was the reason you took up karate.’
‘He was. Indirectly.’ He picked up the eggs he’d abandoned earlier. ‘Omelette all right with you?’
‘Fine, thanks. What do you mean, “indirectly”?’
There was a long pause and then a sizzle as the eggs hit the pan. ‘He hit my mother. She sent me to karate so I would be able to defend myself if something happened to her. She saved what little money he let her have and spent it on lessons for me.’ He paused. ‘I went because I wanted to be able to defend her, which was a pretty big ambition for someone of that age.’
‘Oh my God.’
It wasn’t what I’d expected him to say.
I stared at his broad bare shoulders, not knowing how to respond. Remembering how protective he’d been of me, it was all too easy to imagine he would have been the same with his mother. ‘How old were you?’
He tilted the pan. ‘Four.’
My heart tightened. ‘You were four when he hit you?’
‘No, I was four when I started karate. I don’t remember when he first hit me but I do remember my mother pushing me into a cupboard to protect me and locking the door.’
My heart was pounding. The horror of it engulfed my like a grey, dirty wave. ‘She did that?’
‘She hid the key so he couldn’t get me, but he knocked her out and they took her to hospital without realizing I was in the cupboard.’ He reached for two plates and divided the omelette, as if we were talking about our plans for the summer, not something that had formed him.
‘How long were you in there?’
‘They kept her in the hospital overnight.’
I thought of him, four years old and trapped in the dark. I remembered what he’d said about not liking enclosed spaces and suddenly his choice of apartment made sense. Not just because it was above the business but because it was a collision of light and space. No one could ever feel trapped here. ‘What happened? Did your mother leave him?’
‘Eventually. Not soon enough. I was eleven. It wasn’t easy for her. She’d had a rough life and she saw him as security. He used that to manipulate her. He made her feel as if she wouldn’t be able to survive without him. In the end being without him was the only way she could survive.’ He handed me a plate and I took it without even looking at the food.
‘And she left you with him?’
‘She made the right choice. It was about survival.’
‘Were you angry with her for leaving you?’
‘No. I was relieved. The responsibility was crushing. It had got to the point where I was afraid to leave her alone in the house with him. It meant I only had myself to worry about.’
I tried to imagine how that must have felt, being a young boy and feeling responsible for the safety of your mother.
I looked at him. The food on my plate remained untouched.
I realized how little I’d known about him. How little I’d asked.
‘Where is your dad now?’
‘He died a few years ago. Cirrhosis, which was a surprise to no one given that his longest relationship was with the contents of a whisky bottle.’
‘And your mum?’
‘She’s safe. And happy. She met someone.’ His voice softened and I felt something squeeze inside me.
I wondered how he’d handled it so well.
He added a chunk of fresh bread to his plate but I shook my head when he offered me the same.
‘No, thanks.’
‘You need carbs.’
‘I’m not hungry.’ What he’d told me had taken away my appetite. ‘You never told me any of this.’
‘It was history by the time I met you.’
But it explained why he’d always seemed so strong and self-reliant. He’d had to be.
We took the plates back to bed and finished the food and the champagne.
I looked at my phone and realized it was 2 a.m. ‘It’s late. I should go.’
‘Stay the night.’ His tone was rough and I looked at him, sorely tempted.
Hayley wasn’t home. She’d texted me earlier to say she was staying at Nico’s for the weekend. Also that she was borrowing my favourite shoes because she was accompanying him to some smart lawyer do.
There was no reason to go and plenty of reasons to stay. Like the way Hunter was looking at me and the slow, seductive brush of his fingers over my arm. My skin was super sensitive, my insides melting.
It wasn’t as if we’d exactly denied ourselves. There was no reason to feel this desperate, but still I was desperate.
I’d always thought my willpower was pretty good. I could resist chocolate and biscuits, but it turned out I couldn’t resist Hunter.
He was my weakness.
‘I don’t have anything with me.’
‘I have everything you’re likely to need.’
That was what worried me.
I pushed that thought aside and slid out of bed. Then I picked up the plates and took them to the kitchen, telling myself that it was fine to stay. That I could cope with it. That my emotions were under control.
If you want to justify something, it’s pretty much always possible if you work hard at it. But the only real justification as far as I was concerned was that I wanted to.
I was having the best time of my life.
Why not?
CHAPTER NINE
‘Coffee?’
I woke to find sun streaming through the windows and Hunter standing next to me, a towel knotted around his hips, his hair wet from the shower.
Groaning, I sat up and pushed my hair away from my face. ‘You were up early.’
‘It’s ten o’clock.’ He handed me the coffee. ‘Not that early.’
‘Ten? You’re kidding.’ I reached for my phone, saw that he was telling the truth and felt heat rise in my cheeks. ‘I was tired.’
‘I think I might know the reason for that.’ His tone was a soft mas
culine purr that made me want to ditch the coffee and drag him back into bed.
My muscles ached in places they hadn’t ached for ages. Thanks to him, I was aware of every part of my body.
I sipped my coffee and then put it down on the table next to the bed, feeling suddenly awkward. After last time, I was determined not to do anything that could be defined as clinging. ‘I should get going. I expect you have plans.’
‘My plans include you.’
I probably should have played it very cool and made some excuse about needing to be at home, but as I opened my mouth to speak, I turned my head and the words jammed in my throat. The towel had slipped slightly, revealing even more of the hard, honed abs and the powerful muscles of his chest and arms.
I told myself that any woman who would be able to walk away from that needed therapy.
‘What did you have in mind?’
He gave a slow smile and I smiled, too, because it was obvious how we were going to spend the weekend.
I reached out and tugged at the towel, but he was already coming down on top of me, pulling the covers back, exposing me.
I slept naked, so there wasn’t much chance of hiding, not that I wanted to.
Sunshine fell across the bed, spotlighting my body and his. He lowered his head, plundering my lips and then moving lower. He took his time, driving me mad, tormenting me with every skilled flick of his tongue. He didn’t just know how to kiss my mouth; he knew how to kiss all of me and he employed those skills with devastating effect on my breasts and then lower to the damp, swollen heart of me. The pleasure spread through me in hot waves and he teased and tormented me until I was writhing on the bed and then he locked his hands on my hips and forced me to lie still while he took his time and explored me with merciless skill. My body was his playground and by the time he pulled me under him I was almost sobbing with desperation.
He paused for a moment, looking down at me, and then he sank into me, driving deep into the heart of me with unleashed hunger. If he’d held back last time, he certainly didn’t this time. My hands moved to his shoulders and I felt the ripple of muscle under my fingers, felt the hard strength of him as he pulled back and then drove deep, My hands slid lower and closed over the hard bulge of his biceps. His eyes held mine and he lowered his forehead to mine and then kissed me, biting at my lips, nibbling and driving me crazy while all the time his body possessed mine.