Shattered King

by Sherilee Gray

  His grin got wider and he gave my ass a light slap. “Are you mocking me, woman?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’ll pay for that later as well.”

  I frowned. “Hang on, what else am I paying for?”

  “This raging hard-on I can’t do anything about for fucking hours.”

  I grinned wider. Hunter growled.

  I was out and out laughing when he grabbed my hand and led me from the apartment.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Hunter

  Fuck.

  Balls drawn up tight, I was close to blowing.

  I looked down at Lulu’s ass, watching my cock slide out of her tight, wet pussy and clenched my teeth to hold it back. I wanted this to last. Nothing felt as good as when I was inside her. Nothing. That sexy-as-fuck dress was in a heap on the floor, along with the underwear that nearly had me blowing my load before I’d even touched her. But the shoes that had kept me hard all damn night were still on her feet.

  She was flat on her belly, back arched, ass high. I was straddling her, keeping her legs together, while she clutched the wooden slats of my headboard. Her head was turned to the side, mouth open, eyes sometimes screwed shut, sometimes looking back at me as I pounded into her. The woman was perfection. Head to toe. Inside and out. No one got to me like she could. I couldn’t even imagine being with someone else, of fucking anyone but Lulu. Didn’t want anyone but her.

  She moaned, fingers spasming, grip tightening when I shoved in deep. She tried to push back, to take more.

  “Fuck, my girl’s so hot for it.” I squeezed her round ass. “Don’t move.”

  She whimpered. “Please, Hunter.”

  Her plea hit me low in the gut, making my cock throb and my balls ache. I was done playing around. Coming down on top of her, I slid one arm under her, across her chest, holding her immobile, the other down between her legs so I could play with her swollen, slick little clit.

  “You with me, Lulu?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Who’s fucking you?”

  “You are.”

  “And who am I?”

  “My man.”

  Her words were a hit to the chest, in a really fucking good way. “That’s right, I’m your man.” I thrust into her hard and she gasped. “You feel what you do to me? My girl makes me so fucking hard. You make me lose my goddamn mind, until all I can think about is getting inside, fucking you until you scream.”

  I slowed down, gliding in and out of her, nipping her earlobe. “You’re mine, Lulu. You’re not just inked on my skin, you’re under it, you’re twisted so deep inside me there’s no escaping it. I need to know you get that. Do you, baby?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  I kissed her shoulder. “I want my name on you, where people can see it. Anyone looks at you, they know you belong to me.”

  She moaned, her pussy starting to flutter around my cock. “I’m gonna come,” she said between panted breaths.

  I stopped fucking around and tightened my hold on her, pressing down, sliding my finger over her clit. She moaned when I squeezed her tit with my other hand, the needy sound snapping my control, and I powered my hips into her, fast and hard. All she could do was take it, take what her man gave her.

  Her inner walls clamped down on my cock and she screamed, the spasming grip so tight, I had no choice but to let go. Sparks of light flashed behind my lids as I blew up, pumping her full, lost to her, hips going to town against her ass. I was powerless to it, could only hold her down and fuck us both through it.

  When she’d wrung me dry, I slowed down, trying to catch my breath. The aftershocks she was still feeling worked against the head of my now sensitive cock, making me groan.

  I kissed the side of her neck and rolled us both to our sides. I was still inside her, her soft ass fitting snug against my lap. “You good, baby?”

  “More than good,” she said quietly.

  I came up on an elbow, gripped her chin, leaned in, and kissed her slow and deep. “I’m never letting you go,” I murmured against her lips.

  She stared up at me, eyes wide, searching mine. Then she offered up a wobbly smile that I felt in the center of my chest.

  I slid her gorgeous red hair off her shoulder, went back down beside her, kissed her shoulder, then curled back around her. She was still scared; she couldn’t hide shit from me, and that fucking cut. All I could do was wait and hope she figured it out, that I wasn’t going anywhere.

  Pierce was dead, that sick motherfucker was gone for good, and as much as I’d wanted to be the one to put him in the ground, it was better this way. I couldn’t risk going down a second time. Losing Lulu all over again.

  But I swore to fucking Christ, if anyone so much as looked at her the wrong way, let alone touched her or hurt her—I’d kill them.

  Lulu

  An incessant, repetitive noise dragged me from my deep sleep. I felt Hunter lean into me. I dragged my eyes open and watched him reach across for his phone on the nightstand, and roll to his back.

  “What?” He listened for a second. “Where? . . . Be there in thirty.” Then he disconnected.

  I lifted up on my elbows. “What’s going on?”

  “Gotta go.”

  My stomach did an unhappy roll. “But it’s the middle of the night.”

  He was already out of bed, pulling on jeans. He opened one of the dresser drawers, pulled out a black long-sleeved T-shirt, and dragged it over his head. Then he went to the closet. I heard a beeping noise before he came back out. He had a set of handcuffs poking out of his pocket and a gun shoved down the waistband of his jeans.

  “That was Jude. He’s been tracking something. He’s located it, but needs back up.”

  I shoved my hair back from my face and shot up into a sitting position. “Why do you need a gun?”

  He was pulling on a jacket and paused at my words.

  “Babe.” He came toward me. “You know why.”

  I did. All too well.

  “It’s just a precaution. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  If there was nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t be wearing a gun. “Is this a retrieval, this job?”

  “Lulu . . .”

  “So you’re going to break into some criminal’s place and steal whatever it is back?”

  That muscle in his jaw jumped. “Yes,” he said, not sugarcoating it.

  I sat up fully. He’d told me some of what he did, but we’d never gone into great detail. I had my suspicions. I knew it was dangerous, knew he skimmed the line where the law was concerned, and I’d tried not to dwell on it, to not let it get to me. But now, again faced with it, there was no hiding from the truth. It was in front of me sticking out of the waistband of his jeans. “That must make you a lot of enemies,” I said, mouth so dry I had trouble swallowing.

  He came around to my side of the bed, planted one hand in the mattress, and leaned in. “I told you, you have nothing to worry about.”

  I didn’t miss that he hadn’t answered my question.

  “I don’t want you to go.” I hated myself for saying it for being so damn needy, but I had a bad feeling.

  He cupped my jaw in his hand and slid his thumb up to my ear and back. “This is my job, Lulu. I’m trying to be honest with you here, about what I do. You need to find a way of dealing with it.”

  My hand went to his abs and I gripped his shirt, scowling up at him. “Is that right?”

  He cursed. “We’ll talk more when I get home.”

  I fisted the fabric tighter, didn’t want to let him go. “Hang on a minute . . .”

  “Gotta go, babe.”

  Shit. “Right.”

  His fingers threaded through my hair, and he fisted it, tilted my head back, and kissed me. It wasn’t a goodbye kiss; it was a “we’ll-finish-this-later” kiss. Hard and deep and wet with lots of tongue. Then he pulled back and I was forced to let him go.

  He shoved on his boots, then moved back, dragged the covers down, kisse
d my bare hip then pulled them back up, tucking them around me.

  And walked out the door.

  I heard the beep of the alarm then the front door close behind him.

  Goddammit.

  I lay there for a few minutes before I pulled back the covers and climbed out of bed. Slipping on Hunter’s shirt, I buttoned it up and rolled back the sleeves. No way would I get back to sleep now, not with the way my belly churned, the way my heart pounded. I’d had more nights than I could remember feeling like this, curled up in whatever shitty apartment Josh and I were living in, afraid the door would be busted in at any moment, that Pierce would find us.

  God, I didn’t want to feel this way anymore. Scared out of my mind, afraid for the ones I loved.

  I dragged the comforter off the bed, and padded to Josh’s room to check on him. He was fast asleep, thumb in his mouth. Going by the small smile on his lips, he was dreaming good things. I brushed his hair back from his face and kissed his soft, warm cheek. That’s all I wanted for my son, to have good dreams. No more nightmares. Real or imagined.

  I left him sleeping, and headed down the hall. Light from the street filtered into the living room, washing the whole place in a multi colored glow. I flicked on the TV, slumped onto the couch, and dragged the comforter over me. Catfish reruns were on, so I settled back to watch. Anything to keep my mind off what Hunter might be doing at that moment.

  Is this what my life would be from now on? Sitting in the dark, waiting for him to come home, hoping like hell that when he did, he’d still be in one piece?

  That the bad guys didn’t follow him here when he did.

  He said I had to get used to it, find a way of dealing with it, with the danger—the dangerous people—he dealt with every time he walked out the door.

  Right then, curled up on the couch, sick to my stomach with fear, I didn’t know if I could.

  * * *

  “Come here, baby, you’ve got jam all over you.” I lifted Josh onto the bathroom cabinet and went to town on his grubby little face and hands. He’d slept in, which was appreciated, since it took hours for me to finally fall asleep on the couch after Hunter left, and what little sleep I did have was restless.

  It was after ten a.m. and I still hadn’t heard from him, so I was doing everything I could to distract myself.

  I wanted to call him desperately, but I wouldn’t let myself. First, I didn’t want to come across as overly needy, and second, if he was still busy with the bad guys, I didn’t want to distract him from whatever he was doing.

  I picked Josh up, gave him a squishy hug, and carried him out to the living room. “How about we bake a cake?”

  He clapped his hands. “Chocolate!”

  “Why not.” Anything that would occupy my mind and keep me busy was a good thing.

  Josh was still on my hip and I’d just started pulling out ingredients, when the door opened and Hunter walked in. Van right behind him.

  Josh lit up, his smile full and beautiful as soon as he saw them. He wriggled in my arms to get down so he could go to Hunter, but I held on as I stood frozen, supporting my son with one hand, a carton of eggs in the other. “What happened?” I demanded.

  “I’m okay.” Hunter held up a hand, a placating gesture, and his jacket slipped off one shoulder. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, his arm only in one sleeve. He had a thick bandage around his upper arm, shoulder, and across his chest. He also had a bruised and cut cheek, the cut held shut with those little clear strips.

  He took a step toward me and I took a step back. “You’re not okay.”

  Van moved in before I knew what was happening. He took the eggs out of my hand and placed them on the counter. He reached for Josh, but I shook my head and took another step back. I hit the counter behind me. “You promised,” I said.

  “Fuck,” Hunter muttered, shoved the jacket off the rest of the way, and then started across the room toward me.

  I couldn’t back up any farther. It was stupid, but right then I wanted to run, wanted to be anywhere but there, confronted with my worst nightmare. I watched, eyes fixed on that bright white bandage as he got closer. He rested the hand of his uninjured arm on the counter beside my hip. “Look at me, Lulu.”

  I forced my gaze away from his bandage. “You promised,” I repeated. I knew what I was saying was ridiculous, but I couldn’t stop the words coming out of my mouth.

  His hand went to my waist, thumb going up underneath my shirt, brushing across bare skin. “I’m okay.”

  “You’re not.” My eyes dropped to his shoulder. “That is not okay.”

  “It went right through,” Van said. “He’ll be good as new, two, three weeks max.”

  “What went through?”

  Hunter swung to his brother, a scary look on his face, at the same time Van answered, “The bullet.”

  I felt my knees go weak, blood rushing through ears. “A bullet,” I choked, throat suddenly dry. “Someone shot you?”

  “What the fuck, Van?” Hunter growled.

  Van winced, lifted his hand to the back of his neck. “Shit.”

  Hunter’s hand was still at my hip. He fisted the fabric of my shirt. “Give Josh to Van and let’s go talk about this.”

  “No.” I shook my head again. This was my biggest fear, now my reality. No, scratch that—my biggest fear was instead of his shoulder, it hit his chest, and he wasn’t standing in front of me scowling, he was in some hospital morgue, cold and lifeless. I’d already lost my father and my mother. I couldn’t lose anyone else. God, not Hunter.

  I’d lost him once and nearly didn’t survive it. I couldn’t lose him again. Not like that.

  He let go of my shirt and reached for Josh. Josh whimpered and curled into me, big blue eyes locked on Hunter’s cut cheek. Hunter’s eyes drifted shut, and when they opened, they were softer, gentle.

  He ran his hand over Josh’s soft hair. “It’s just a scratch, bud.” Hunter turned to Van, communicated something with a look, and Van instantly reached for Josh. Josh lifted his arms, went to him without hesitation, wrapping his arms around the other man’s neck. Van carried him out of the living room, down to his bedroom to play.

  Hunter looked at me, gaze searching. “Babe . . .”

  “I can’t do this,” I said before I fully knew what was going to come out of my mouth.

  “This isn’t something that happens often, Lulu. Yeah, Jude and I ran into some trouble, but we had it under control. We got what we went for. It’s done.”

  “You had it under control?” I said in disbelief. “You got shot!”

  He held my gaze. “It’s a risk we take doing this job, but, babe, this does not happen every week, this was just bad luck,” he said, trying to play it down, but at the same time confirming my fears. And no matter how he tried to spin it, he couldn’t deny the fact—it happens. Bullets flew. People got shot.

  I felt my eyes go wide.

  “Shit, you need to listen to what I’m saying . . .”

  “No, Hunter, I don’t need to do a damn thing.”

  “Lulu . . .”

  “I can’t do this,” I repeated. “I can’t have another night like last night, worried out of my mind.” I started shaking uncontrollably.

  This time he didn’t feed me a line like the day before. He didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. “You need to find a way to handle this.”

  There he went again, telling me to get over it, like I could just flick a switch and not be afraid anymore. “I can’t do that,” I said, the last word coming out on a broken sob. “You live in a world that I ran from. A world I was dragged into against my will, a world filled with unimaginable horrors, with sick, twisted people who would chew you up and spit you out without a second thought. The kind of people that wouldn’t think twice about pointing a gun at someone and pulling the trigger.”

  He jerked back, eyes widening in surprise.

  I realized in that moment, I’d never voiced the way I felt, not really. Yes, I’d told him I didn’t want h
is job to touch Josh, but not the depth of my fears. I’d held back. I needed him to understand now. “I left that hell behind, Hunter, to protect my unborn child, so it would never touch him. I’ve tried to tell myself I can do this, but I know now that I can’t. I don’t want to. I had that life forced on me, I won’t do that to my son.”

  His eyes locked on mine. “What are you saying?” he rasped.

  I bit my lip, fought down the tears stinging the backs of my eyes. “I have to go.”

  His fingers curled into my shirt again, fisting it tighter. “No. We sit down, we work through this. You do not run away. I won’t fucking let you.”

  I blinked, and a tear streaked down my cheek. “What happens if the next shot doesn’t just hit your shoulder? What if it hits . . . somewhere else? What if next time, the bad guys follow you home?”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “You can’t guarantee that. How can you?”

  “I’m telling you, I won’t let it. Fuck . . . we can work this out, Lulu. There has to be a way, but you are not walking out that fucking door.”

  I tried to pull away, but he crowded in, pinned me between his body and the kitchen counter. “I need to think. I can’t think when I’m with you.”

  “I can’t think when you’re gone,” he rasped.

  I shook my head. I couldn’t look at him. Hunter’s fingers curled around my biceps and he gave me a shake. “Don’t do this, Lulu.”

  I ignored him. “I have to.” I was hysterical now, but I couldn’t rein it in. The knot in my stomach, all my fears, all the pain I’d had on lock down could no longer be contained. It all came rushing forward. I felt like I was submerged in a vat of maple syrup, trying to swim to the surface and getting nowhere. I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe.

  Hunter shook me a little harder. “Shit, calm down.”

  “No.” I shoved out of his hold and shot across the room, hugging myself. “No. I have to go.”

  “You’re just going to leave me?” The disbelief was there in his voice, and I did my best to block it out. This was what I had to do, to protect Josh. To protect myself.

  “Yes . . . maybe.” I threw up my hands. “I don’t know. I just . . . I can’t be here with you. Not now.” We stared at each other. His eyes communicated the pain he was feeling, and it made me want to shrivel up and disappear. Made me want to stop fighting, and let myself go under.