His head dipped, and teeth pulled at my aching nipple, tight and puckered from the cool air. I arched and sighed, wrapping my legs around his waist and rubbing my body against his.
“Fuck, I don’t know how I stayed away from you for so long,” he whispered between teasing licks at my nipple as his other hand worked the zipper on his dress pants.
“God,” I sighed as my eyes appraised him. All sharp lines and hard muscle, rippling as his body hovered over me, a few wayward strands of golden hair licking across his forehead.
“I’ve been dreaming about fucking you,” he ground through clenched teeth, just as the tip of his cock made contact with my heated skin for the first time. A low groan burned from my chest and filled the heated space between us as he worked in slow thrusts, deeper and further each time.
“So fuck me.”
“Mmm…” That reckless half smile tilted his lips as my eyes flickered open at his words.
“Please, Sir.” I begged softly, just as he’d said I would. At my words Hunter’s eyes flickered with danger and he sunk into me in one fierce thrust. He moved with focused ease, and with the lights of Chicago blazing through the windows, Hunter fucked me like a whore for all the city to see. His eyes burned with emerald fire as our gazes locked and he fucked me so hard I thought I may lose my mind. My heels dug into his ass and I itched to run my fingers through his hair and across his golden biceps. “Oh, God…” An orgasm tightened and bunched my muscles, curled my toes, and left me sitting on the edge and so close to ruin.
“Fuck. You feel better than I fucking dreamed,” Hunter grunted and the raw tone of his voice left me falling off into another world where I couldn’t see, couldn’t think, could only feel my nerves burning up for the first time in so, so long.
“So fucking beautiful. Your body shaking around mine. Christ, that’s the face I want on camera. Your beautiful face as you cum, hanging on my wall for everyone to see.” Hunter’s hands tightened painfully at my hips as his thrusts grew shallow and quick, his words urging me on. Fingers pulled at the locks of my hair before one hand fisted at the back of my neck. With his forehead against mine, his heavy pants mingling with mine, he came in long slow groans that echoed out of his chest and that I felt to my very core. His body held lean and rigid above me, I ached to run my fingertips across his back, following the cut lines of his torso and his scars like Braille under my fingertips.
His heavy weight finally slackened, his taut muscles relaxing into my own before he placed a gentle kiss into my neck, his tongue darting out in discovery. “I love the taste of you.” His low grumble had another wave of arousal wetting my thighs. I hummed as a lazy smile turned my lips.
“You’re especially ravishing post-sex, Erin Warner.” A half grin lifted his face before one hand pushed through my hair. “I love seeing the ropes against your skin,” he whispered in my ear before his deft fingers worked the knots and untied me swiftly.
I slouched against the leather and sighed, unable to form words as I relived each moment, the slow delicious feeling of our coupling pulsing through me as his thick cock burned against every nerve with his retreat.
His hands kneaded at my shoulders and then my wrists before he placed a soft kiss on the underside of each. My stomach burned with warmth. “Join me on the balcony for a smoke?”
“Smoke?” I rolled over and enjoyed the cool leather against my sex-damp skin. “Since when do you smoke?”
“I only do it after…” He nodded to the bench we’d just fucked on and then sent a rakish grin my way. With hands clasped, he dragged me to the balcony where the brisk wind whipped my hair and tightened my nipples through the soft blanket he’d draped over my shoulders.
“So how long have you had that pack?” I asked with an arch of my eyebrow.
He arched his right back, mocking me. “A while.”
“I’m sure,” I bantered, getting the answer I expected of him, but not one that I entirely believed.
“I need a bathroom break.” I dropped his hand to scurry out. “Be right back.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He caught my elbow and hauled me into his lap. I was conscious of the liquid dripping down my thighs on the seats, on him.
“I’m gross, just give me a minute.” I peeled the sweat-dampened hair off my neck and pulled it to one shoulder, thankful for the cool air against my skin.
“Nothing gross about it; I like me inside you. Smoke with me,” he said each sentence disjointedly, as if they were all ordered for me to follow, no decision to be made at all.
“No.” I shook my head. “You are too much for me to handle some days.” I smiled and watched him take a long draw of the cigarette as my hand curled around his neck, one finger playing with the cool chain of the dog tags against his searing hot skin.
“Most days, I think.” He exhaled and then smiled wildly, a full-toothed grin that sent my heart racing.
“You’re probably right.” I giggled. “And I have to say, I had you pegged for a health nut, what’s with the cancer sticks?”
“Old habits are tough to break.” He grinned up at me then, and with his dancing green eyes and flippant smile, he looked every part the bad boy from the other side of the tracks my mom liked to warn me about.
I sighed and trailed my hand further down his chest to land on the matching doves that flew across his pectorals. I ran my fingers across the dusting of hair and over the ink. Smooth skin without a mar to be felt. “What’s different about these?” I tipped my head, fascinated.
He was silent for long beats, and it took me more than a moment to realize he may not want to divulge his every secret to me just because we’d fucked.
“I chose these,” he finally answered and took another draw of his cigarette while his eyes held mine with unwavering intensity. I nodded my head, unwilling or unable to tear my gaze from his, before he held the cigarette out. “Try it. Believe me, makes the orgasm even better.” He winked and just like that he was the Hunter that held no pretense. We could just be.
“No thanks.” I tucked myself further into his shoulder. His arm came around me and we sat like that, him smoking, me watching, as the Chicago night darkened around us, cool and naked on the balcony with the evidence of us running down my legs.
fourteen
I’d watched her somber form take the steps down from the courthouse earlier, each step measured and with a stroke of sadness. It wasn’t easy, what I assumed she’d done within those imposing brick walls. But she’d known what she had to do. She’d taken it a step too far. It was time.
She plopped onto a bench at the sidewalk and broke down into torrents of tears. Dark hair fell around her shoulders, obscuring her from my lens, but I was rooted. I couldn’t take a picture if I tried. No one deserved to have the very moment when the life they thought they knew fell out from under them captured on film. If she only knew the real story.
It’s only the tip of the iceberg, baby.
My instincts told me to go to her, hold her in my arms and offer her some sense of comfort, but then I laughed with ironic spite, realizing how unwelcome my comfort would be.
I was the man that would soon be responsible for taking her life apart one perfect piece at a time.
fifteen
ANXIETY RIPPLED THROUGH my stomach as the car rolled to a slow stop outside of a Tudor on the North side of the city. Hunter had told me to wear something short and be outside my place at seven. “Number two thirteen,” the driver nodded to the house, encouraging my hasty exit. “He’s waiting.” My knees nearly went weak at the words.
I walked up the steps, my stomach alive with butterflies, before I knocked once and then twisted the knob and stepped in.
Hunter stood in a doorway to my left looking as handsome as I’d ever seen him in a slim and elegantly cut suit with thin lapels and tailored cuffs.
My heart faltered a bit when I took the first step.
It faltered again on the next.
I loved him. Could I really even love anym
ore? I didn’t know how much I had to give after all the hurt I’d suffered through the years, but with Hunter, there was no hurt. It was easy. We were easy.
“It’s so great to see you. I’d like you to meet my step-father.” Hunter crooned.
The heel of my right shoe chose that moment to catch on a non-existent knot in the wood and stumble. I stretched an arm to grab the doorjamb before a rough hand caught mine, weather-worn and darkened by sun, dusted with golden hair, polished rings splayed across all fingers, and tattoos up the arms.
“Careful there,” a thick voice, choked with years of hard living, whispered against my neck and brushed the hair across my temples. My eyes fell closed and I steadied myself, embarrassed.
“Thank you.” My eyes opened to land on the oddest shade of golden eyes watching me, a familiar crooked grin on a face that was somehow similar.
“Erin, meet my step-dad, John Ellis Walker.”
My face scrunched as the name rattled through my head. I’d heard it before; I knew I had.
“It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled and tried to shake off the eerie feeling, considering his hand was still clasped around my arm, the fingers a little too tight for my liking.
“It’s been too long, Erin.” He flashed a grin that nearly shattered my bones.
John Ellis Walker.
My eyes widened.
Reported boss of a gang on the North side of the city responsible for a bevy of street violence.
My heart may have stopped beating in that moment as Hunter’s step-dad’s palm tightened around my elbow as he led me through the simply decorated room and down a long hallway. I gulped the lump in my throat down and shot my eyes back at Hunter. He trailed behind us, his eyes watching me like a hawk. A soft nod of his head told me it was okay. And I trusted him — at least I thought I did. “I hope you don’t mind; I asked Clu to bring you by tonight. I’ve heard so much about the lovely Erin that’s captured his attention.” His gaze focused intently on me for far too long, as if waiting for some reaction. “It looks like my boy, Clu, here hasn’t told you much about me. I can see now’s not the time, but I hope that changes soon.” His dark, delving eyes darted to Hunter’s, and I sensed that something brewed unspoken between them.
“Clu?” I squeaked, unsure why even at this moment I was choosing to trust either of these men. “Clu?” I asked again, questions burning in my dark irises as I searched Hunter’s eyes.
“I’ll let you chat, but I hope to see much more of you, Erin Warner.” Hunter’s step-father twisted a curl of my hair through his calloused fingers that made me shudder with fear.
“Follow me,” Hunter whispered before pulling me through the back door and down the wooden stairs into the dark and dampened yard. My knees were quaking and my heart was thumping an irregular heartbeat, but Hunter was the only person I could trust at this moment, I had to follow him.
With hands locked, he sat me next to him on a small bench under the one shade tree in the yard. It was almost romantic, if there weren’t so many questions swimming through my mind. “I don’t know where to start.”
“The beginning would be the best,” I snarked, but snuggled closer into his shoulder, thankful for the only support I had at that moment as the enormity of his secret settled into my bones.
“It’s a long story.” He ran a hand through his short hair.
“It always is,” I retorted, before adding, “Clu.” Anger rolled in my gut at how fucking blind I’d been all along. The nickname, the scars, the phone. I’d seen every sign along the way and had chosen to remain blind to them all. I sucked in a slow breath. You need this job. You can’t walk away now.
“Right.” That impish, sexy smile curved his lips. “‘Clu’ is what the guys call me,” he waved a hand as if it meant nothing. “My real name is Hunter Calum Ellis Walker, Calum was my grandfather’s name, and the guys shortened it to Clu.” He shrugged, as if that was only the beginning of the explaining. I had a feeling it was too.
“So what should I call you? Clu? Or Hunter?” I shot.
He jumped to reply, “Hunter. I like Hunter.”
“Okay…tell me everything else then.” I sighed and leaned back into him then, ready for whatever would unfold.
“John Walker, have you heard of him?” His eyes darted up to mine, something akin to shame simmering in them.
“John Walker? He’s not just any old John Walker,” I spit under my breath. “He’s John Ellis Walker.” I crossed my arms and chewed on my bottom lip, my stomach rolling. I should be running; my feet should be carrying me around the side of that yard and screaming for a taxi.
“What did you bring me into, Hunter?” I whispered as tears sprang to my eyes, feeling a sense of resounding hopelessness. I had my own secrets. I’d been evasive from the start with a few stumbles of guilt along the way, but we all had baggage. Maybe this time, I was strong enough, maybe love was…
The thought trailed off in my mind with a ruthless smile. Hunter and I weren’t even together and here I was making excuses for him, just like I’d promised to never do with any other man again. “Are you…is this your world?” I finally questioned, louder this time.
“No, God, no. I swear. You know my world. My world is the photos, the travel. It’s you and I.” He grabbed my hand and held it tightly. “John isn’t even my step-dad, not technically. He’s the one that looked out for me after my mom died. I even changed my last name because he insisted it would be easier, and I was so determined to leave the past behind, I did it. He’s all I had, so I’m thankful for him, but this life,” he waved a hand to the house, “it isn’t much better.”
“This life? I’m not even sure what we’re talking about.” The agitation in my voice rose another notch.
“I told you I was bullied. It only got worse after my mom died, and I found myself homeless. John saved me.” His hand tightened around mine then, and squeezed as if asking for silent patience, his eyes begging for understanding. He knew I’d seen the news reports, followed the local headlines like any other informed Chicagoan. “John has a lot of powerful friends. A lot of them.” Hunter’s eyes burned through me. “He kept me clothed and fed, a warm bed, but John doesn’t believe in favors, there’s always expectation attached.” His eyes flashed darker. “It took me years to learn that.”
I nodded, eyes downcast and watery. “Does he have power over you?” I said it softly, already knowing the answer.
“He does.” Hunter’s eyes averted, and I knew that’s where his secrets lay.
“Why did you bring me here?” I was suddenly anxious to leave this place that seemed to have a veil of deception disguised behind carefully manicured hedges.
“He’s been wanting to meet you.”
“Me? Why?” I asked, nothing short of shocked.
“He’s always been protective. John has a lot of power, but he would never lay a hand on anything I loved. He made that mistake once.” My breath felt chained in my lungs leaving me unable to swallow enough oxygen for my brain to function.
“Do you believe me?” he asked, his melodic baritone running through my ears and melting my limbs.
“Of course.” I nodded, unable to say a thing more, the lump still choking my throat. I didn’t have a choice. Here I sat in the backyard of John Ellis fucking Walker, and Hunter was asking if I trusted him? I’d tell him whatever he needed to hear as long as I thought it kept me safe.
Hunter squeezed my hand in the soft moonlight. I nodded, reassuring him.
“I swear to you, Erin, I’d move the fucking Earth if it meant keeping you out of danger. You know that, right?” His thumb and finger tightened on my chin and he ducked his head to catch my gaze.
I swallowed the softball in my esophagus when I realized his probing eyes were waiting on my answer. “Yes,” I said, not at all sure what I believed anymore.
“You’ve got my word.” His tongue darted across my lips and urged them apart, before he pressed my nape as he kissed me, slow and perfect, passionate and pos
sessive. I kissed him back, as passionately as I always did, with extra knots of fear tying my stomach.
sixteen
I TWISTED MY HANDS together in the back seat of the Lexus that rolled through the hurried Chicago streets. Golden lights splashed by the window as happy couples filtered in and out of restaurants and bars.
“I’ve just got to drop something off with a guy at a bar. He usually has a lady friend with him. We’ll have a drink, and you’ll be your normal charming self.” He tapped my chin. “Then we’ll be off to dinner.” His hand pressed at my knee. I squirmed in my seat, worrying my lip between my teeth, my mind flying with possibilities. I should be jumping out of this car. I should insist he bring me home and throw away my number. At the very least I should tell him the job wasn’t what I expected and I couldn’t accompany him tonight, or any night, ever again.
What was Hunter thinking introducing me to John Ellis Walker?
My mother’s warnings burned in my ears. No good. He’s no good.
Why had I foolishly ignored every red flag and allowed myself to fall for his devilish smile and the captivating click-click of his camera?
“Smile,” Hunter’s deep voice ordered and my eyes fluttered open just as Hunter stepped from the Lexus onto a crowded street, pulling me behind him.
“Sir.” The doorman nodded to Hunter when we approached. “Follow me.” He whisked ahead of us, up a flight of stairs and down a dark red carpeted hallway before showing us into a private room that overlooked the bar below.
“Hunter!” A voice boomed from a dark corner and I saw a well-dressed man in a tux, a glittering blonde at his side, easily twenty years his junior with plumped lips and a faux tan greet us.
“Have a seat.” The man patted Hunter on the shoulder.
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