Shattered King

by Sherilee Gray

  This annoyed me as well. I don’t know why I was so irritated by it, but I was. Unreasonably so. Hunter had a way of running right over the top of me, and I’d had more than enough of that over the last few years. I felt like I had no control over my life as it was, so not even knowing my own body, and when to rest it, pissed me the hell off.

  Here, with Hunter, I didn’t feel like the woman who’d worked herself ragged, who’d battled to keep her son and herself safe all on her own. I felt like someone else. I felt helpless.

  I hated feeling that way.

  That feeling didn’t improve when I walked out and spotted Hunter on the couch with Josh, who hadn’t needed three hours sleep, watching cartoons together. He twisted to look at me and grinned. “Better?”

  I made a sound that came out like pah and stomped—yes, again with the stomping—to the kitchen to make tea. Which kind of hurt, but I refused to let it show. To keep my hands busy, so I didn’t try to strangle him, I contemplated what to make for dinner.

  Sipping my tea, I checked out the fridge. He had pretty much everything I needed to make lasagna and a basic salad.

  In no time, the place was filled with the smell of cheese, tomatoes, and garlic bubbling away in the oven.

  I felt Hunter move in behind me. Just his nearness started up some serious flutters in my belly. He reached around me, grabbed my beer, and took a sip. The action was simple, casual, but it felt extremely intimate. I had to fight back a shiver of pleasure.

  “Smells amazing,” he said softly.

  “I know how much you like lasagna. It’s just a . . . a thank you for looking out for us,” I finished lamely.

  His hands came to my hips, his lips to my ear. “You don’t need to thank me. You never need to thank me, not for that, not ever.” He gave me a little squeeze. “I love that you cooked for me, but promise you’ll take it easy. You’re still recovering after what happened. You don’t need to do for me. I’m a big boy. You worry about you and Josh. I’ll do the rest.”

  Is that what I was doing? Yes, I’d cleaned and cooked, but I was just trying to be useful, wasn’t I? God, I didn’t even know what I was doing. This whole situation was insane. I was in Hunter’s house, living with him, me and my son. I’d just cooked him a freaking meal, like we were some old married couple, like the last three years never happened. It came so naturally, looking after my man, falling back into old habits. I’d always loved to cook for him.

  It wasn’t just me, though. He was acting like the past had been wiped clean as well, like it no longer existed. But I knew it was only a matter of time before it came back to haunt us. Before it slithered up behind us, infecting, corroding this little make-believe existence I was living, before reality set in and it all vanished.

  I tried to wriggle away, but he wasn’t having any of it. “I’m fine, besides a few aches and pains. Nothing I can’t handle. I was just . . . I want to do my bit, and we have to eat.”

  “Okay. But I’ll sort dinner tomorrow.” His lips grazed my throat before he let me go. Then he stepped away, and I watched him get down on the floor with Josh and start playing cars with him, making the noises and everything.

  Jesus. The man was killing me, or at least giving my self-control a serious hammering. I ignored the tingles from having his lips on my skin, which wasn’t easy, and dished up.

  After dinner, I gave Josh a bath and put him to bed. He fell asleep halfway through his story. I wasn’t tired, not after my nap earlier, and headed back to the living room. Hunter had just turned on the dishwasher.

  He turned to me when I walked in.

  Our gazes locked then dropped, traveling, taking the other in, like it was the first time we’d laid eyes on each other. Not like I’d just sat with him chatting while we ate thirty minutes ago, which had also been weird. I was struggling big time with our new arrangement.

  I had no idea what he was thinking, or feeling. He gave none of it away. He just aimed those blue eyes at me, intense, deep, so damn deep, fathomless. There was so much going on behind them, too much. Too much for me to get a handle on.

  I swallowed, hard.

  Jesus. The man was perfection. Seriously perfection. Rough, growly, dirty perfection.

  “Movie?” I blurted, because how long could we just stand there staring, no one saying a damn thing?

  He lifted his beer to his lips and took a sip, swallowed, inked neck working, and somehow, that was sexy, too. “Sure.”

  Excellent. Watching a movie meant we didn’t have to talk, which was a good thing. A very good thing. But Hunter didn’t seem in the mood to talk either. He tagged the remote, handed it to me to pick what I wanted to watch, then grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the chair I’d just taken and brought me to the couch. And like the weak-willed woman I’d recently become, I went with him without a single word of protest.

  He sat, pulling me down, too, and tucked me into his side. Right into his side, so there was no room between us. His heat surrounded me, his scent. The hardness of his body against my softer one felt amazing, and I fought back a delicious shiver. I instantly became enthralled with the way his chest rose and fell, the way his breath brushed the top of my head with each exhale.

  “You gonna pick a movie?”

  I heard words coming out of his mouth, but with the way I was superglued to his side, the way my entire body was zeroed in on his, I didn’t actually hear the words, I felt them. They hit me right between the thighs, making my nipples tingle. I forgot what he said.

  “Lulu?”

  I twisted to look at him. “What?”

  He grinned. “Movie?”

  “Oh . . . right.” That grin did things to me as well, things that felt way too damn good to be healthy.

  I flicked through the movie channels and picked something with plenty of action. I decided this was the safest way to go. Avoiding anything with romance and or possible love scenes would stop any awkwardness.

  I was wrong. There were sex scenes. Several of them. And they weren’t fade-to-black, either. They were also sexy as hell.

  As the heroine of the movie wrapped her arms around the hero, his body rolling on top of hers, while some beautiful song played in the background, my heart started to race faster, harder. I wriggled against Hunter, trying to get some distance between us. I was burning up and having all that hard heat plastered against me was not helping.

  His hand snaked down to my hip, fingers digging in. “Stop.”

  I twisted, looking up at him again. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Beg all you like, cupcake, you aren’t going anywhere. So stop fighting and fucking relax.”

  “You’re bossier than you used to be,” I snapped.

  He took another sip of his beer and shrugged. “I’m a lot of things I never used to be. That doesn’t change the fact that where you are now is where you’re supposed to be.”

  Oh God.

  He looked back at the TV, watching the movie like he hadn’t just said what he had. I was still trying to process, and he’d moved on, chuckling at some cheesy one liner, while cars exploded all over the screen.

  I woke up sometime later, plastered against Hunter’s side. The TV was off, and the lights were dim, like we’d left them. He was on his back on the couch, and my body was half on him, half on the couch on my side. One of his hands was on my ass, the other in my hair. My knee was cocked, lifted over him, and his thigh was between mine, the heavy muscle right there, providing enough pressure to give me very happy tingles. He shifted and his thigh rubbed against me. It felt good, so damn good.

  I was still sleepy and confused and before I knew what I was doing, I’d shifted my hips against him, seeking more. Then I did it again—and again.

  What the hell was wrong with me? What was I going to do, lie here and dry hump Hunter’s thigh until I got off?

  I moved my hips again.

  Yep. Looked that way.

  I knew the minute he woke, because the hand on my ass curled deeper, fingers digging in. By th
is point, I’d worked myself up enough that I didn’t really care about much more than reaching for the orgasm that was already building.

  “You wanna come, Lulu?”

  Oh yeah, the way he said that, the way his voice sounded rough and gravelly from sleep, was pure sex. Shit, I was sure I had a mini orgasm right then and there.

  “Yes.” I shouldn’t be doing this, I should get up and walk away, but I wasn’t going to. Why fight it?

  “You in a hurry, baby?”

  “Yes.” I thought I might explode and not in a good way if he didn’t give me the release I needed.

  “You okay like this?” His voice dipped lower. “Not too sore?”

  “I’m fine,” I whispered.

  The hand at my ass slid down the back of my yoga pants, inside my panties, cupping my behind as the other slid down the front. He made a rough sound when he found how wet I was.

  Jesus, it felt good.

  I lifted my face so I could see his, and the way he looked at me was hot and fierce and had my inner muscles squeezing in anticipation.

  He watched me, eyes locked on mine as he slid a thick finger through my slit, spreading my juices, working me up. I moved my hips wanting more and he gave it to me, growling softly as he pushed a finger deep inside me. I whimpered, burying my face against his shirt when he started moving, sliding in and out, slow and deep. I tried to thrust my hips against his hand, but he controlled my movements with the hand on my ass. Then he slid in a second finger, stretching me wider, thumb joining the action, and my entire body rolled, undulated against his. I lifted my knee higher, so my legs were spread wider, asking for more.

  “Fuck,” he rasped. “I want that stiff little clit under my mouth.”

  I wanted that, too. Badly. But all I could do was moan against his shirt.

  I was close, so close. The scent of my arousal drifted around us. The wet sound Hunter’s fingers made while he worked me, our harsh pants, were all I could hear.

  My breath hitched and I moved my hips against his hand the best I could. “I’m close,” I gasped.

  “I know, baby.” His intense gaze stayed on me, the hand on my ass holding me tighter, holding me down as he did another swipe over my throbbing clit. The building pleasure peaked. I moaned helplessly as I came around his thrusting fingers. “That’s it, Lulu, come all over my hand, let me feel it.”

  He continued to hold me gently as I came, until I went limp on top of him, body quivering with the aftershocks. He removed his hand from the front of my pants, but the one on my ass stayed, big and warm, the hold unmistakably possessive.

  And right then I didn’t care.

  I let my heavy eyes drift shut.

  I felt him kiss the top of my head, then I let sleep claim me.

  * * *

  I was lying in bed, cocooned in blankets, light creeping under the curtains, and listening to Hunter’s low voice drifting in from the living room. Smiling to myself when it was followed by Josh’s sweet, excited one. His short answers and out of control giggles were what I’d woken to the last three mornings.

  It warmed me in a way I hadn’t felt in too long to remember.

  I loved it. Too much.

  We had a kind of routine going. A routine that just sort of happened. I didn’t sleep in, not usually, not since I’d been on my own. I didn’t sleep heavily either. Being on edge all the time, afraid, made that impossible. But for the last three mornings, I’d woken to those voices in the kitchen. The reason for my sudden ability to sleep like the dead hadn’t escaped me. It was Hunter.

  For the first time in a long time, I felt safe.

  So now we had this little groove going. Hunter gave Josh breakfast, and after I ate and showered, we’d hang out. He hadn’t gone into the office, but he was on the phone and his laptop a lot. He was also tense. I got the feeling the hunt for Pierce wasn’t going that well.

  The second day out of the hospital, Hunter took me to see my mother. I’d lied and told her I’d been in a minor car accident. She’d stared at me for a long time, tears in her eyes, and I knew she didn’t buy it. But she didn’t question me further, either. She also didn’t question why she was still in the hospital and not at home like Pierce had promised, or her husband’s whereabouts or absence. I didn’t know what Pierce had told her, the excuses he made, if he’d even bothered when she called to tell him she’d seen me, but it was almost like he didn’t exist to her anymore.

  Did she know more than she ever let on about her husband and what he did? Not what he’d done to me, not that, but about his business practices?

  I decided not to think about it, not to let it eat at me. I knew my mother loved me. She loved me with everything she had, but I also knew she had a fragile spirit. She was no match for Pierce. Would never have had the courage to stand up to him, even to protect me. I didn’t hold that against her, there was no point. The past couldn’t be changed, and we’d already lost too much time. What we had left was too precious to waste pointing fingers and placing blame.

  Josh’s giggles broke into an all-out belly laugh out in the living room, and I grinned. There wasn’t a sound I loved more in this world.

  I fired off a quick “Good Morning” text to Aunt Sara. She was staying with her friend, out of the city and safe. Then, shoving back the covers, I left the room, bypassing the bathroom, and carried on out to the living room to see what was going on. Hunter was standing against the breakfast bar. He was wearing worn black jeans and a black Ramones T-shirt. His arms were crossed, emphasizing those impressive biceps, a coffee cup in his hand, and a wide, heart-stopping, belly-melting smile on his face.

  But it wasn’t Hunter making my little boy laugh—it was Van. The big, scary as hell, ex-Marine was playing peekaboo over the back of the couch. Going by Josh’s now hysterical laughter, he thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

  His laugh was infectious and I chuckled. But seeing a man like Van melt for my little boy wasn’t funny, it was swoon-worthy. He was a good-looking guy, not as hot as Hunter, not to me anyway, but yeah, a guy like that didn’t have any trouble finding dates, or . . . whatever.

  It was then I felt rather than saw Hunter’s gaze slide to me. The heat of that stare traveled over me, making my skin tingle and between my thighs warm up. He hadn’t touched me, not since that night on the couch. I could only assume it was because he wanted to take things slow after finding out what had happened to me, but I was so hot for him, I was on the verge of jumping him. It didn’t matter how wrong this whole thing was, on so many levels. The sexual connection we had was as strong as ever, undeniable, and seemed to pulse between us whenever we were in the same room. It always had.

  I didn’t know how much more I could take.

  Van straightened from behind the couch when he saw me, grinning, though it slipped when his gaze moved over my body. Then he was grinning again, but way bigger. “Hey there, Lulu.”

  “Ah, hey.” I looked down at myself and winced, flushing hot. I was wearing my favorite sleep shirt, a white tank that was so thin it was basically transparent, and no bra, which meant my hard nipples, thanks to Hunter’s scorching look and sexy biceps, were trying to break though the ratty fabric. And my ass was barely covered by a pair of red, boy-leg underwear. They hugged me between the legs, in a way that hid nothing. And I mean nothing. I might as well have been standing there naked.

  Oops.

  I tugged down the shirt, which to my horror, only managed to emphasize my chest and over-excited nipples.

  “Lulu,” Hunter’s voice was nothing but a growl.

  And what did I do? I just stood there, like an idiot. I did take a step back when he prowled toward me, all tight jaw and flashing eyes. He reached back and yanked his shirt up and over his head, revealing his spectacular chest. I was frozen all over again, ogling him like the sex-starved, single mother I was. Alone time with my vibrator didn’t count. Most of the time my mind wouldn’t shut up, and I couldn’t get off anyway.

  Hunter stopped
in front of me and shoved his shirt over my head. I blinked up at him when my face popped though the neck. “What are you doing?”

  “We’ve got company,” he said, stating the obvious.

  I’d been about to run back to my room and put something on, as soon as my lust haze had cleared, but I changed my mind. I wasn’t a fan of his Neanderthal routine, not one bit, so I stubbornly squared my shoulders and shoved my hands through the sleeves. The shirt was warm and smelled delicious, just like Hunter, and big enough it came to about mid-thigh. I decided to steal it when I left.

  “So I noticed.” I turned a bright smile Van’s way. “Coffee?”

  “I’ll have a top-up, thanks.”

  “Jesus,” Hunter muttered, but I ignored him and walked past him to grab Van’s cup, then back to the kitchen to make the drinks, like I walked around half dressed in his apartment all the time. The fact that even Hunter hadn’t seen me like this in the morning, at least not for the last three years, wasn’t the point.

  I poured the drinks and Van walked over to get his. He was still grinning. I had no idea why and chose to ignore that too. “So, what brings you here this morning?”

  Van’s smile vanished and what I saw made my belly tighten unhappily.

  “You can’t find him, can you?”

  “We will,” Hunter said.

  Shit.

  The idea of being anywhere near Pierce terrified me in a way I didn’t know I would ever be able to shake, but maybe, I could help. “I . . . I’ve been thinking, about where he could be, where he might be hiding. I know things, things no one else does. . . .” I took a deep breath. “He took me everywhere with him, maybe I could . . . help.”

  Hunter crossed his arms. “I won’t put you at risk.”

  Van looked at Hunter. “We need to consider this.”

  I touched Hunter’s arm. The muscle bunched beneath my fingers. “You’d be with me, right?” Hunter would make sure I was safe.