Torment (Shattered Secrets Book 2)

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Torment (Shattered Secrets Book 2) Page 10

by Bella J.


  She leaned her face closer to his, feeling his warm breath move across her wet lips. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  His eyes softened, his gaze dropping down to her lips. “I don’t know, Scar.” Then he lightly brushed his nose down the side of her face like he was smelling her, taking her in. “I don’t know, but it’s fucking killing me.”

  “What’s killing you?” she whispered.

  “The fact that I can’t stop thinking about you—wanting you.” His cheek gently stroked against hers, his lips barely touching her ear. “I want you, Scar. I want you, and all your pleasure, to be mine and mine alone.” Harder he pushed himself against her, his thumbs leisurely stroking her wrists. “I want to own you. I want to know that you’re mine, that you belong to no one but me. I know I should walk away, but I just can’t.” He softly placed his lips against the skin of her neck. “I just,” another kiss against her neck, “fucking,” and another, “can’t.”

  Holy shit.

  Fire. That was all she felt. Raging fire that burned her insides to nothing but ash. Every inch of her body ached, her mind spinning, fogged with a cloud of desire. Why did she want him so badly? Why did her body need him so much?

  Warm lips moved along her jaw, his tongue flicking against her skin. “All I want to do is touch you…kiss you…fuck you. I want to bury myself between your legs. Push my cock so deep inside you, and to make you forget everything but me.”

  The urge to clench her thighs was unbearable as she started to ache all over just thinking of the kind of pleasure this man was capable of giving her. And almost as if he could read her mind, he pushed his strong, hard thigh between her legs, and she gasped as the ache shot straight through her gut all the way up her spine.

  “You want it too, don’t you, Scar?” He took both her wrists into one hand, slowly stroking his other hand down her arm, igniting her skin with every inch he touched. “I can feel it every time you’re around me, your desire to be filled by me…your need to be controlled by me. It’s fucking lethal, the way we burn for each other.”

  “Ace…” she breathed, but she was unable to continue her sentence when she felt his hand softly brush over her breast. His gaze followed his hand, like he was trying to commit every touch, every inch of her to memory.

  “I keep on telling myself that whatever the hell it is we had, it’s over. But whenever I’m near you, I can’t stop myself from thinking about how good it feels to be inside you.” His touch moved from her breast, over her stomach. “And I want to make you mine over and fucking over again, until your goddamn mind, your soul…your body is filled with nothing but me.” His gaze still followed his hand as he reached down.

  On the inside, Scarlet was screaming for him to move his hand down further, to touch her where she needed it most, where the ache was starting to consume her. The need to be filled by him was so strong she could hardly take a breath.

  When his hand moved around her thigh, jerking her leg up, placing it around his waist, Scarlet moaned.

  “You feel that, Scar?” He flexed against her and she couldn’t stop herself from moaning again. He studied her, like he loved seeing the look of tortured desire plastered all over her face. “You feel that ache? The burn for me to consume you? That’s the way I feel every minute of every fucking day ever since I had my first taste of you—of your body.”

  Usually, Scarlet would have a pretty mouth full of snide comments and remarks, but not today.

  Not at that minute.

  She loved hearing his voice. She loved all the dirty things he was telling her. Scarlet loved to hear that he had been experiencing the same kind of torture she had.

  He leaned closer, his lips mere inches from hers. “Tell me, Scar, why aren’t you fighting me? You love fighting me. So why aren’t you fighting me now?”

  “Because I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t fight you because you’re right. I ache for you, and it’s just too fucking strong.”

  “Jesus.” Hunter let go of her wrists and jerked her other leg up, forcing her to wrap both legs firmly around him.

  She had finally confessed her weakness…him. Hunter had become her weakness and she no longer had the strength to fight him. Even though her mind kept reminding her about all the things keeping them apart, her body—her heart—had overruled every rational thought.

  The air around them was toxic with desire. It was like every breath they took only fueled the need, the want…the lust. Scarlet’s entire body was humming, ready to be claimed, willing to be taken.

  Hunter moved against her, letting her feel how hard he was, and Scarlet wanted to scream. She wanted to claw at him. She wanted to ravish him. No, she wanted to be ravished by him.

  Leaning his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes. “I want to possess you, Scarlet. I want to be the demon that haunts you, the devil that never lets you go. The only problem is…my possession will be your fucking undoing.”

  She weaved her fingers through his hair and tightened her legs around his waist. “Then undo me, Ace. Undo me, because you’ve possessed me since the first time you moved inside me.”

  Hunter let out a guttural moan and slammed his lips against hers, his tongue fucking her mouth like there was no tomorrow. Their bodies melted against each other, the heat between them building and building, threatening to erupt, turning them both in to nothing but dust.

  He pulled his lips from hers, dragging his tongue down her neck as she lifted her head, giving him more of her.

  “Then why the fuck are we even fighting this, Scar?”

  “I don’t know, Ace. I really don’t know.”

  Unable to go a second longer without his taste, she forced his head up, pushing her lips against his. Just like that day in the elevator, it felt like that damn time bomb was right there between them again—ticking—and if they didn’t kiss each other fast enough or hard enough, it would explode.

  Hunter pushed harder, securing her between his body and the wall. When Scarlet grabbed his jacket, jerking it off his shoulders, wanting it off, there was a sound of something clattering on the floor next to them.

  Scarlet looked down, and so did Hunter.

  Her spine chilled instantly when she saw what it was.

  Hunter grabbed her face in his palm and forced her to look at him. “Scarlet, no. Don’t let her ruin it.”

  As she stared into his eyes, all hope had once again been stolen from her as reality slammed against her chest. No matter how hard they tried—how hard she tried—things would never work out for them. They would never just be a normal couple who fell in love. Normal just did not exist for people like them.

  “You want to know why we keep on fighting it, Ace?”

  She pushed against his chest, and he stepped back, allowing her to put her feet back on the ground.

  Hunter watched as she crouched down and picked up the chain from the floor—the chain which had become both their regret and their torment.

  Scarlet held it out to him. “This is why we keep on fighting it.”

  “Scar, please don’t—”

  But she was out the door before she could hear him finish his sentence. Even though her body was screaming at her to stay, to let them finish what they started, her heart was telling her to run. To run as far away from that man as possible. During the past few weeks, the threat on her life had shifted. It was no longer Brent who was her biggest threat.

  It was him. Hunter. The only difference? It wasn’t her life that was on the line this time…it was her heart. And no matter how much she tried to deny it, how hard she tried to fight, her heart was on the line from the very first moment he walked into her life and turned everything upside down.

  On her way down the hall, rushing toward the front door, it felt like all the air had been sucked away and she couldn’t take a breath. There was a gnawing ache carving its way through her heart and out of her chest, like it wanted to rip her soul to shreds. It was a kind of pain she had never felt before.

  When
she reached the front door, she shoved it open and rushed out onto the patio. After taking a few deep breaths, allowing the oxygen to fill her lungs and calm the storm raging inside her, she gazed around.

  It was late afternoon, the sun starting to settle down in the horizon. It was beautiful, how the light painted the treetops, birds flocking back to their nests in the huge oak trees. It would be easy to forget about the city life buzzing just behind those trees, where people rushed through their lives day in and day out.

  Scarlet sat down on the top of the stairs and kept her eyes on the picture in front of her. It would be so easy for her to feel sorry for herself. To sit there and wonder why her? Why did her life have to be such a damn mess? Why couldn’t she have been one of those girls who met the man of her dreams at the age of seventeen, married him at twenty, had their first born son at the age of twenty-three, and spent every Sunday barbequing on the back patio of their cottage in the country overlooking the lake?

  She pulled her palms down her face. “Wishful thinking, Scarlet.”

  “What’s wishful thinking?”

  She glanced up and saw Colton towering over her from behind.

  “To have a cottage in the country with a lake of Jack Daniel’s running through my backyard.”

  “Hmm.” He sat down next to her. “Husband?”

  “Husband?”

  “Well, if you’re wishing for a cottage in the country by a lake of Jack Daniels, it would be real boring without a husband.”

  “Oh, there will be a husband. He’ll just be safely tucked away in a closet, only allowed to come out on barbeque Sundays.”

  Colton snickered. “Poor man.”

  “Hey, he should be thankful he’s allowed out at all.”

  Colton laughed and nudged her with his shoulder. “You’re a real tough one, aren’t you?”

  “Is it that obvious?” She smiled.

  “If your personality doesn’t give it away, those boots sure do.” He looked down at her knee-high leather boots.

  “They’re my shitkickers.” She winked at him.

  “No shit.”

  Colton leaned back on his elbows and stared out in front of them. It was quiet, except for the chirping birds flying around on their way to their nests.

  Scarlet glanced at him. “Tell me about her.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to know.”

  Colton sat back up and placed his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. “She’s six years younger than me. Dark brown hair, brown eyes.”

  “Like you?”

  He smiled. “Yeah, I guess.”

  A few seconds passed before he continued. “Our parents got divorced when she was two, and we didn’t see our dad very often after that. Mom worked two jobs, so naturally I had to take care of her most of the time.”

  Scarlet leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Where’s your mom now?”

  He looked down to the ground, and Scarlet saw him clench his hands. “My mom committed suicide two months after my sister was kidnapped.”

  Awesome, Scarlet. Way to put your insensitive foot in it.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “Hope was twelve when she got kidnapped. My mom was working and I was inside the house studying while Hope was outside chatting with some friends. I didn’t think I needed to worry about her. She was right outside our house. Safe, according to me.” He roughed his hand through his hair. “I heard screeching tires, then girls screaming. When I ran to the window, I saw two men grab my sister and a friend, pulling them into a black van.”

  “Shit, Colton.”

  “By the time I rushed outside, the van was gone.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He pulled his hand down his face. “Yeah, so am I.”

  “So this is why you chose to join James and his team?”

  Colton nodded. “The day I found my mom’s lifeless body hanging in the garage of our house, I decided I would spend the rest of my life looking for Hope. Whether she’s dead, or still alive, I will never stop until I know what happened to her.”

  Scarlet looked at him. “Do you have any leads?”

  “Some.” Colton looked behind them at the front door, then back at her. “Your dad will probably kill me for telling you this.”

  “All the more reason you should tell me.” She smirked.

  An amused grin crossed his face. “You’re trouble, aren’t you?”

  “The best kind.”

  He snickered. “Okay. There’s this guy, he calls himself Rex.”

  “Rex?”

  “It means king in Latin.”

  Scarlet frowned. “Okay. So who is he?”

  “Exactly what his name says. He’s the king.”

  “Of what?”

  “Everything. He’s the biggest sex trader currently wreaking havoc in the underground. The big fish. He rules the entire fucking setup, and nothing happens without him knowing about it.”

  Scarlet cocked a brow. “Well, he sounds nice.”

  “Ha. Yeah. Very.”

  “So do you think he took her?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t be sure. But if he didn’t take her, he sure as hell will know who did.”

  Colton got up and walked down the steps before turning to her. “Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to get close to Rex yet. It’s been years and we can’t infiltrate the son of a bitch’s circle.” He kicked at the dirt on the ground.

  Scarlet stood up. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  “It’s been twelve years, Scarlet. I don’t know if she’s still alive, or dead. And if she is still alive,” he turned his back toward her, “what kind of hell has she been through?”

  God, Scarlet’s chest felt too small for her aching heart. And here she thought she was having a bad few years. No more asking why her?

  She walked down the steps and stopped next to him, taking his hand in hers.

  “Whatever you do, Colton, don’t stop. Don’t stop looking for her until you find her. Or until you find out what happened to her. You do whatever you need to do to get to her, you hear me?”

  He looked at her and squeezed her hand. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” A few moments passed with them staring at each other before Scarlet let go of his hand. She took a deep breath, wanting to get rid of all the heavy.

  “Okay, so. You guys got any sexy machinery with two wheels around here?”

  Colton frowned. “Are you talking about motorbikes?”

  “Oh good. You do talk my language.”

  He snickered. “We sure do. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Chapter 13

  Fucked-up…and fucked-up-erer.

  That was exactly how Hunter would describe his entire damn life. One minute he had Scarlet pressed up against a wall and she was kissing him like everything about them made total sense. And then all because of one tiny little metal trinket, everything that made sense just went poof, and now confused the fuck out of him.

  After the chain fell out of his jacket pocket, shattering everything between them into tiny little splinters of hell, Scarlet had stormed out of the bar like she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. Now Hunter was walking down the hall with a half a bottle of Jack, thinking nothing but sentences that consisted solely of F-bombs.

  Fuck, fuck, fuckety, fuck…

  Fuck!

  Hunter passed James’s office and heard James and Riggs talking. He trotted in, not giving a shit that he was interrupting what could be a personal conversation.

  “You seen Scarlet?”

  Riggs straightened as Hunter walked in. “She’s in the garage.”

  “The garage?”

  “Yeah. She asked if we had any motorcycles that she could check out. Apparently, she has a thing for motorcycles.”

  Hunter pulled his hand down his face, cursing. “And apparently, you have a thing for fucking up!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know nothing about that wo
man, do you? Funny, for someone who has watched over her for years, you’re fucking clueless when it comes to her.”

  Hunter faced James and placed the bottle of whiskey on the desk. “Where’s the garage?”

  “Outside to the left.”

  Hunter turned around and pushed Riggs against the chest, sending him staggering backward. “Fucking amateur.”

  He rushed out of the office and down the hall, knowing all too well why Scarlet wanted to see the motorcycles.

  What the fuck was Riggs thinking leaving her alone in a garage full of wheels? Fucking soldier boy was as stupid as he was ugly.

  It took him about thirty seconds to find the garage. It was almost like he had an inner map to wherever the fuck Scarlet was.

  Google Maps could kiss his ass.

  Just as he walked through the garage door, he balked.

  “Fuck me,” he muttered to himself as he stared at all the motorcycles and cars in front of him. What was this? The fucking Bloomindales of cars and motorcycles?

  And then he spotted dark hair with red streaks all the way at the back of the garage. He would have to sprint like a damn Kenyan if he was going to get to her before she could make a run for it—or a ride for it.

  “Scarlet,” he called out. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

  Her head shot up and she looked in his direction. “Ace?”

  Hunter rushed down the aisle. “If you’re thinking of doing what I know you’re about to do, you’d better think twice.”

  “Would you relax? I’m just looking around.”

  Hunter stopped right in front of her and the red Ducati she was admiring. He grabbed her elbow. “Like hell you are.”

  “Oh my God. I’m not stupid, you know.”

  “Oh, I know you’re not stupid. But you are reckless.”

  Scarlet jerked her arm free. “The only reckless thing I’ve done was allowing myself to think that two fucked-up people like us would actually be able to survive together.”

  She straightened like she was trying to prove he wasn’t intimidating her. But he could see it in her eyes. He could always see it in her eyes whenever they got close. It was like those blue sapphires were screaming at him, telling him everything she couldn’t. And right then they were telling him that she was intimidated by him—and she liked it.

 

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