Defeat the Darkness (Paladins of Darkness 6)

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Defeat the Darkness (Paladins of Darkness 6) Page 12

by Alexis Morgan


  “I don’t remember saying anything about pity. You’re sensitive about how your leg looks. Fine, I get that, but don’t go putting words in my mouth.”

  By now, she stood close enough for him to feel the warmth of her body and breathe in the faint scent of cloves and cinnamon on her skin.

  “Next time, just warn a person, you big jerk.” She inched closer. “But when you asked if I saw something I wanted, I said yes. That hasn’t changed.”

  Her hand settled on his chest. With a slow smile, she trailed her fingers across his skin, tracing down until she skirted his burgeoning erection and brushed lightly across his scar.

  “I’m sorry this happened, and I’m sorry you hurt. But if you’re thinking a little thing like a scar or a limp makes me think less of you, you don’t know me at all.”

  She leaned in close to plant a soft kiss on his chest.

  That’s all he needed.

  He took her hand and led her straight to his bedroom.

  Tate’s lungs had forgotten how to work. From the second she’d knocked on Hunter’s door only to see him walk out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a frown, she’d been having trouble drawing in enough oxygen.

  And now she was being towed along in Hunter’s wake, headed straight for his bed. She wasn’t sure how they’d got to this point, but she planned to make the most of it.

  God, that man had an ass to die for, and the rest of him was built like a god. She hadn’t been lying about his scar, either. Whatever accident he’d been in had been horrific, but it didn’t detract in the least from Hunter’s powerful masculinity.

  Stopping just short of the bed, Hunter turned to face her, his eyes stormy and intense. “Are you sure about this?”

  She liked his slight hint of insecurity. Actions always spoke more eloquently than words. She inched closer, giggling a bit when his erection kept her at an impressive distance. Feeling a boldness she’d never felt before, she wrapped her fingers around the velvet and steel of his cock and tucked it up between them so she could settle her body against his strength.

  “I’m sure, Hunter. Are you?”

  He frowned as he brushed the back of his fingers along the side of her face and down the curve of her neck. “I’ve been wanting this from day one, Tate.”

  His lips followed the path of his fingers, his warm, moist breath tickling her skin and sending shivers up her spine. She grabbed his shoulders for support, loving the flex and play of his powerful muscles.

  “You have me at a disadvantage,” he murmured in her ear as he tugged her T-shirt up to slide his hand along the small of her back.

  “Why don’t you do something to level the playing field?”

  “You really want me to put on some clothes?” He nibbled on her earlobe.

  She loved his teasing. “They’d only get in the way of what I have in mind.”

  His eyes darkened. “Fine, so that leaves you taking yours off.”

  “You don’t want to help?” She reached for the hem of her shirt when he shook his head.

  “Nope, since I took my own off, it would only be fair if you did the same.”

  He backed away and crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, this way I get to watch.”

  His smile was pure temptation, and she found this playful side of Hunter irresistible. For the moment the shadows were missing from his eyes, replaced with a burning heat. She peeled off her shirt and tossed it aside. After easing her bra straps down off her shoulders, she flicked the front fastener open, but hesitated briefly before letting it slide away completely.

  He groaned, his approval obvious. Feeling more confident, she turned away as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of her shorts and panties. She took what seemed like an eternity to slide them down her legs, bending over to push them as far as her ankles before stepping out of them.

  “Tate, honey, you’re killing me.”

  Hunter’s voice was a low whisper, rasping over her nerves like a caress. She hadn’t heard him move, but his hands settled on her hips, pulling her backside flush up against his erection. God, all that warm male strength made her purr, especially when his hands moved up to cup her breasts.

  She straightened, soaking up the heat from all that luscious skin-on-skin contact. Hunter murmured his approval, nuzzling her neck as he kneaded her breasts and tugged gently on her nipples.

  She never wanted him to stop—but she wanted so much more.

  He loosened his hold on her. “Tate, baby, we need to move this act to the bed or I’m going to take you standing right here.”

  Oh, yeah, she liked that idea. Instead of heading for the bed, she walked straight past him to plant her hands on the dresser, cocked her hips out, then widened her stance in invitation. Then she looked back over her shoulder and gave him a come-and-get-it smile.

  Obviously a man of action, Hunter was right there with her, staring into her eyes in the mirror. The predatory hunger in his eyes would’ve been unnerving if his touch hadn’t been so gentle. His hand settled heavily on the center of her back and then slowly glided down over the curve of her bottom to gently probe between her legs.

  Her body softened, dampening, preparing for him. She closed her eyes as he slowly parted her, testing her readiness with one finger, then two. As they continued a gentle rhythm of thrusts, he arched over her, letting her feel his weight as he trailed kisses down her spine and then her bottom.

  His mouth, hot and demanding, sought out the center of her desire, his tongue lashing out with quick licks that had her biting her lip to keep from screaming with the sweet beauty of it.

  “Hunter!”

  His name became a prayer as she begged for more, for him to end the torment, to release the storm that was building deep inside of her. Then he stopped and rose up.

  He was leaning over her again. She arched back and up, helping him to find her center, bracing herself as he thrust deep into her core. Her breath left her in a rush and then came in short pants as he worked his cock in and out, driving them both closer and closer to the edge. He gripped her hips, and the slap of his belly against her bottom almost drowned out the pounding of her heart.

  Her head was resting on her arms, but then she raised up enough to watch her lover in the mirror. Hunter’s expression was fierce, his eyes half-closed as his thrusts became relentless. She’d never experienced anything so wonderful or intense.

  As the first ripple of her orgasm started deep inside, milking the silken hard length of him, he increased the pace, driving both of them harder and harder, until there was nothing left of her world except the sound and the feel and the scent of Hunter Fitzsimon.

  He shouted. She screamed. Then the universe dissolved as Hunter shuddered deep within the heart of her. Afterward, everything shifted and settled into a whole new reality.

  He was pretty sure he almost just died again. That’s how good it was with Tate. But if he didn’t get horizontal soon, there was a good chance he would spend the rest of the afternoon curled up on the floor. As long as Tate was there beside him, that would be fine, but the bed would be a lot more comfortable.

  He carefully moved away from the warm sanctuary of her body and offered her a helping hand to straighten up. When she wobbled a bit, he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, ignoring the screaming pain in his leg, determined to make it that far without dropping her.

  Success! He settled her in the center. “I’ll be right back.”

  After a quick trip to the bathroom to get a handful of condoms, he joined her under the covers.

  He turned on his side and propped himself up to look down at her. “I’ve been remiss, I think.”

  She frowned a bit as she touched her fingers to his cheek. “I don’t remember complaining about anything.”

  “But I never kissed you.”

  She pretended to pout. “Well, that does make you a bit of a cad. However, it’s never too late to make up for past mistakes.”

  He closed the distance between them, hopi
ng his kiss would tell her the things he couldn’t say. Like how alive she made him feel and that her touch healed him in some amazing way.

  This time the passion built more slowly, but it burned even hotter. And for the first time since he’d died, he knew peace.

  ———

  “Stop!”

  Tate froze, unsure what was wrong. She’d been getting dressed; she needed to get back to the house before Sandra returned. Shortly before Tate had brought the basket over to Hunter’s apartment, her mother had taken off, saying she’d needed to check on a few things in town.

  The last thing Tate wanted right now was for Sandra to figure out that she had spent the afternoon in Hunter’s bed. With Hunter. The wonder of the experience was too new, too amazing to let her mother spoil it. Sandra was already touchy about Hunter living in the apartment. If she found out that he actually preferred Tate to her, there would be hell to pay.

  Back to the matter at hand. “What’s wrong?”

  “I left marks on your skin.” He pointed at a faint set of fingerprints along her hip bone.

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Besides, considering how long it had been since she’d last let a man get that close to her, she fully expected to feel a few twinges in odd places. But sex with Hunter had been unlike any she’d ever experienced before.

  “I’m sorry if I was too rough.” He circled her, checking her over for more damage.

  She stopped him. “You weren’t. Besides, I’m pretty sure I left my mark on you, too.”

  But when he turned around to check himself in the mirror there wasn’t a single scratch or bruise to be seen. How odd. She’d distinctly remembered urging him on with her nails and leaving a love bite on the side of his neck.

  When he saw her puzzled look, he kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t think so hard. Maybe I’m just a fast healer.”

  “Right.” Although something in his tone made her think he wasn’t really teasing. He pulled a clean shirt out of the drawer and put it on.

  She really hated to see all those sleek muscles disappear. As she finished getting dressed, she said, “I’d invite you over for dinner tonight, but Sandra’s still a bit unsettled. We probably won’t be the best company.”

  “That’s okay. I’ve got to be someplace anyway. I’ll be out late.”

  Right up until that remark, he’d been approachable, but it felt as if he’d just slammed a door shut between them. Maybe she was being too sensitive and a little unsure about this sudden change in their relationship. Yes, that had to be it. Well, maybe. Regardless, it was definitely time to put some distance between them.

  “I’ll be going then.” She hurried toward the door. “Enjoy your treats.”

  “I do believe I already have.” Then he gave her a wicked grin. “Oh, you meant the muffins.”

  She hadn’t gotten far when he caught her arm, swinging her back around to face him.

  “What?”

  “Is something wrong?” He cupped the side of her face with his callused hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb across her cheek.

  She studied his face, trying to read the thoughts behind his stormy eyes. “No, not really. I didn’t know something like this would happen, and I’m not sure how to act or what to expect.”

  He didn’t smile, but his expression gentled. “I have no expectations, Tate. We’ll take things as they come.”

  His lips were soft against hers, his kiss reassuring. Then he rested his forehead against hers for a few seconds. “I wish…” He started to say more but stopped.

  Somehow she knew what he meant. He wished that this could’ve been more than an afternoon of shared passion. It was his way of putting some distance between them, putting things in perspective. He was offering her no promises, not even the possibility of a repeat performance.

  “I know, Hunter. Me, too.”

  This time he let her go, but she felt his gaze follow her all the way to her kitchen door. Maybe she shouldn’t be upset, but all she felt was sad.

  Her mother was waiting for her. Of course. It was too much to ask for a few minutes to herself before having to deal with Sandra’s demands.

  Her mother launched her attack before Tate could even think to close the door. “So that’s why you wouldn’t throw him out of my apartment.”

  Tate jerked as if she’d been slapped, but then held her ground. “Not now, Mother. I need to start dinner.”

  Sandra stepped between Tate and the counter, blocking her way. “I notice you’re not denying that you spent the afternoon letting that man work off his rent. How much of a discount did you give him?”

  Tate stared at her mother in disbelief. They’d had their problems in the past, but Sandra had never before launched such a vicious attack.

  “I cannot believe you said something that crass! My relationship with Hunter is none of your business.”

  Sandra shrugged. “I’m your mother, as you so often point out. Somehow you’ve managed to hold on to your ridiculous naiveté for far too long, but it’s time you faced the truth, Tate. A man like that would only settle for you because there’s no one else in this hellhole of a town under fifty.”

  Okay, Tate had claws of her own and knew how to use them. “Well, that’s not quite true. You’re here, aren’t you? But Hunter didn’t choose you, did he, Mother? Is that what this is all about? That, heaven forbid, a man actually prefers me to you!”

  Tate’s only warning that they were no longer alone was when her mother’s eyes glanced at something, or someone, behind Tate. The older woman immediately backed away. Could this get any worse? Tate glared at Sandra briefly before turning to face her furious tenant.

  “Hunter, I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

  He stared over her head toward Sandra, his face stone hard. “Don’t be, Tate. I knew what your mother was the moment I saw her. It’s not your fault she’s a pit viper.”

  Tate could feel Sandra’s outrage pouring from her in waves.

  “Well, Tate, are you going to let him stand there and insult me?”

  “Considering what you just accused us of, I figure he can insult you all he wants.”

  This was getting them nowhere. Tate forced herself to concentrate on Hunter, unable to face Sandra at the moment. “Was there something you needed?”

  Hunter held out her basket, his knuckles white with tension. “I thought you might need this. Would you like me to throw her out for you? It wouldn’t take long, and it would give me great satisfaction.”

  Sandra gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  His smile turned sinister. “There’s a lot I’d dare if you push me far enough. Rip into Tate like that again, and you’ll find out firsthand.”

  “Stop it, both of you! I do not need this from either of you.”

  “Tate, he’s the one—”

  “Mother! Leave this room right now. I will deal with you in a few minutes.” She wasn’t sure if Sandra would go. But when it was clear that Hunter wasn’t going to leave unless she did first, Sandra flounced out, playing the martyr with consummate skill.

  Tate ached with a familiar pain, but one thing at a time. She tugged the basket out of Hunter’s hand. “Thank you for returning this. I know you have plans for the evening, and I don’t want you to be late on my account.” She paused. “I’ll be fine.” Eventually. Maybe in a hundred years or so.

  He knew it, too. “I’d take you with me, but I can’t.”

  “I didn’t expect you to.” She gave him a gentle shove toward the door.

  But instead of leaving, Hunter grabbed the notepad she kept by the phone. After scribbling something on the top page, he ripped it off and shoved it into her hand. “Here’s my cell number. Call if you need me.”

  “That’s nice of you, Hunter, but I’ve been dealing with my mother for a long time. I don’t know what made her act that way. She’s never been this bad before.” Well, not often.

  “No one’s ever accused me of being particularly nice, Tate. I won’t be at all
happy if I find out you should’ve called me and didn’t.” He crowded close, glaring down at her. “Got that?”

  His anger was intense, but it only made her feel comforted. Not even Uncle Jacob had been strong enough to face down Sandra. The only time he’d been able to thwart her was when he’d left his entire estate to Tate.

  “Yeah, I’ve got it.” She raised up high enough to kiss that angry slash of a mouth. “Thank you.”

  His arms yanked her in close as he deepened the kiss. For the moment, she lost herself, letting the gift of his taste and touch hold her problems at bay, even for only a few seconds.

  Both of them were breathing hard when Hunter finally broke off the kiss. “I’ve really got to go, or I won’t be able to.”

  She loved the note of regret in his rough voice. “I know.”

  “You’ll call.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes, I’ll call, but only if I really need to. Now go, before you’re late.”

  “I’ll be gone most of the night, so don’t wait up for me.” He softened his words with a smile.

  She blushed. She’d so hoped he hadn’t noticed that she’d been waiting up to make sure he made it back from his nightly ramblings.

  “All right.”

  But they both knew that wouldn’t keep her from checking for signs he’d returned if she happened to be up during the night.

  One last quick kiss and he was gone.

  “Mr. Black, something has come up unexpectedly. I’ll be needing your services this evening.”

  “Yes, sir.” Joe kept his voice calm, counting the seconds until he could hang up and start cursing. He hated having to cancel his plans. A buddy had won a pair of tickets to a ball game and had offered the extra to Joe. Good seats, too.

  “You will pick me and our guest up at six o’clock. Make sure you bring the gift I bought for you. Here’s the address where we’ll be.”

  Joe dutifully wrote down the directions and signed.

  The gift. That was one thing to call it. What was up with that guy that he was too paranoid to call a spade a spade or a gun a gun? He’d even paid Joe extra to spend time at the local firing range to improve his accuracy. He didn’t know exactly how many innocent targets he’d blown all to hell since signing on for this job, but it was a lot.

 

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