Hunter (Black Angels MC Book 1)

by A. E. Fisher

  I followed his gaze down, only to see where the grey shirt had become transparent and my pink polka dot bra was on display.

  I squeaked and threw my arms over my chest, which seemed to snap Hunter out of his shock.

  “What happened?” he demanded, eyes now level with mine in a gaze that made me think zombies weren’t scary after all. In fact, a zombie apocalypse sounded good right now. That would take his mind off the problem.

  It had been a long time since I had felt my submissive side come out. Being a single mother, trying to move halfway across the country and working until I couldn’t feel my feet, there wasn’t much room for submission. Under Hunter’s heavy gaze, though, I felt my head duck away in a heartbeat, at the same time as my mouth dropped open.

  I knew it was bad when I opened my mouth, but as the words began tumbling out at high speed, I watched as my situation went from bad to worse. I began to ramble, and for the life of me, I wished I could stop.

  “I was trying to run Adair a bath, and the green light was on, and I thought it was the jets and was trying to turn it off, and it turns out it wasn’t the jets, but the bubble bath which, by the way, is misleading since the light is more above jets than bubbles, and”—Hunter took two strides into the bathroom until he was nearly on top of me, which made me vomit words a little faster—“I didn’t realize until there were thousands of bubbles, and—”

  He pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me. I tried not to squeak at his proximity or the way his aftershave seemed to envelop me. I took a deep sniff, loving the way the smell made me tingle. There was nothing better than a man’s aftershave.

  Hunter let out a long, ragged breath before he removed his finger. “Get Adair and get him dressed before he catches a cold.”

  “But what about—”

  “Just leave it.”

  I could see he was raging for calm as he refused to look away from my face, not looking at the overflow of bubbles or Adair, who chose the perfect moment to sneeze again.

  Not one to poke a bear with a stick, I took the opportunity to duck around him, scoop Adair up, and escape into our room, hoping to God that Hunter wouldn’t stay mad.

  I tiptoed down the stairs, leaving Adair to his nap. Even forgoing his bath, the excitement of the bubbles seemed to have worn him out. I put him in my bed in case he woke up and couldn’t smell me like he had always done.

  I could have joined him for a mid-afternoon nap, or re-read one of the few books that travelled with me, or played with my hair, or licked air, but nope. Instead, I was seeking out the beast.

  Though I had said I would never intentionally provoke a bear, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t go looking for one. Or hunting for one. Get it? Hunter. Okay, that one was pathetic. I couldn’t help it. My go-to for stressful situations was humor, and nine times out of ten, it was only borderline funny at best.

  When I reached the bottom floor, I looked around, surprised to not find Hunter anywhere. His Harley was still sitting in the drive next to the truck, and I hadn’t heard him enter his room. I did know that the bathroom had been cleaned in the three hours I had procrastinated leaving my room, taking my time to brush Adair’s hair until its curly mess was as flat as a board. Okay, I could admit it was still curly, but at least you could run your fingers through it. There was no taming tool for his unruly hair.

  The same unruly curls caught my attention as I saw Hunter’s dark head at the bottom of the window. It reached down his thick neck into short curls over his tanned skin. It was long enough to run your fingers through, but not long enough to tie back like Noble’s had been.

  I realized right then that, ever since I had met Hunter, all I had done was compare the two brothers. It might have had something to do with the fact I couldn’t believe they were brothers since they didn’t look alike, or perhaps it was because whenever I looked at Hunter, despite the lack of resemblance, I was reminded of Noble. Hunter knew a side of Noble I never had and never would come close to knowing. Noble, the brother. Noble, the son. Noble, the youth. A Noble for Hunter only.

  With that thought heavy on my mind, I approached the glass door, digging up whatever courage I had and pushing through it.

  Don’t be mad. Oh, please, don’t let him be mad.

  Yep, I wasn’t beneath begging if it kept me safe from the big, bad grizzly.

  To my surprise, he was calm. Shouldn’t he be—I don’t know—growling or something?

  Hunter didn’t look up from where his eyes were cast along his backyard, slouched on a wooden bench, a cigarette pressed to his lips as he took a long drag.

  I hated smokers. Or, at least I did until I saw how sexy it was when the soft smoke tumbled over his lips as he let out a breath.

  “I, uh, sorry about before,” I began, holding on to my big girl panties for dear life.

  Hunter remained silent, but his head tilted, and I assumed that was some acknowledgement on his part.

  “I’m sorry you had to clean up my mess and see me like that,” I continued, unsure if my apology was accepted or not.

  “I didn’t,” he said at last, much to my relief.

  “Didn’t see me?”

  Hunter sighed, and I fought the urge to squeak. Something told me this whole relaxed Zen thing he had going on wasn’t as safe as it seemed.

  “I didn’t clean it up.”

  “You didn’t?” I asked, looking up in the general direction of where the bathroom was. Although I didn’t have x-ray vision, I knew the bathroom was spotless. “Then who …?”

  “Mina.”

  “Mina?”

  “Yeah.” Hunter took another drag before the next words came out, mingled with the smoke. “My maid.”

  “You have a maid?” I couldn’t help looking amazed. Money really did make a difference.

  While on the run, all I had done was clean. It had been a job that provided the most money for an inconsistent worker like me, so the knowledge that I didn’t have to clean anymore was a gift wrapped in gold and sealed with a kiss from heaven.

  Hunter, surprised at my reaction, choked on his cigarette before giving me a dubious look. “You didn’t think I clean this place, did you?”

  “Well, yeah, I did,” I admitted. There was nothing wrong about a man who liked to clean. In fact, it was up there with men who liked to cook. If it got me out of doing the housework, I would marry them on the spot. Well, not really, but I would consider it. “Besides, it’s not normal to assume someone has a maid, even if they have a really nice house.”

  Hunter replied with a grunt, choosing not to acknowledge my compliment. Jerk.

  “I didn’t hear her come in,” I said, trying to pick up our failing strands of conversation. If I was going to live with the guy, even if temporary, I needed to be able to hold a conversation with him.

  “Yeah, she’s good at sneaking out without anyone noticing,” he answered with a smirk.

  Oh. She was that kind of maid. I should have known.

  At my silence, Hunter asked, “Where’s Adair?”

  “He’s napping.” When he turned with that look on his face, I threw my hands up to stop him from speaking. “I locked the doors, and I also have this.” I pulled out the device from my back pocket and shook the baby monitor at him. “I’ll hear him when he wakes up. Other than communicating with aliens, it works as a good child monitor.”

  Hunter just stared at me.

  “What?” I asked, my voice rising an octave. “I don’t really talk to aliens.” When he didn’t look convinced, I sighed. “Fine. Only sometimes, but they don’t talk back.”

  “Holy shit.” He sighed in exasperation, dragging a hand down the length of his face. “My nephew’s mother is bat-shit crazy.”

  “Hey! I’m not bat-shit crazy!” I snapped. Just normal crazy. Not that I would admit that to him.

  Hunter shook his head and stubbed out his cigarette before rising from the wood-carved bench. He moved to step around me when I remembered the other reason I had come out here to talk t
o him.

  I stepped in front of the door, my hand moving forward on instinct until it met his hard chest.

  He stopped dead in his tracks and, good Lord, was he close. He towered over me, massive and consuming, as if everything orbited around him. I was surprised he didn’t have a couple of moons with his massive gravity.

  I fought to keep my face still as I looked up at him, craning my neck to account for at least the foot in height between us. His square jaw almost touched his chest as he looked down, green eyes seeming to burn to life.

  I opened my mouth, ready for words to come out, except nothing did. All my breath had gone, and I found my heartbeat erratic as I fought against sniffing the aftershave that was permeating my nostrils. I could feel the heat rising out of my skin, burning my cheeks. My tongue darted out across my lips before I could stop it. Who wouldn’t be drooling when the rock-hard abs under your fingers were begging to be touched?

  All I could think about was what he would look like without a shirt. All women knew imaginations were a dangerous place. Especially when you had a model-ready hunk at your fingertips … literally.

  My gaze drifted from his face, moving lower down. Fight as I might, I couldn’t stop them. I could admit, though, I wasn’t trying that hard.

  Hunter cleared his throat. Or, at least that was what I thought it was until I looked up and found his eyes roaming down my face and neck.

  The noise came again, and oh, did my panties get wet when I realized that it was a groan. A husky, hoarse groan that did wonders to my insides.

  “I … um,” I breathed—no, wait, that was panting. Oh, geez, I was panting like a dog.

  “Shh …” he whispered, brushing his finger against my lips. Then he changed it to his thumb as he rubbed it across my bottom lip and slid it down under my chin. I had to make sure I was still breathing as his fingers pressed under my jaw, tilting my head back so I could look into his eyes.

  I could feel his breath running over my lips, causing tingles to run straight down to my toes. All I could stare at were those soft lips three tiny centimeters from mine.

  I pushed onto my tiptoes to close the distance, my breath softening as his lips brushed mine …

  The baby monitor crackled with noise.

  I gasped, and Hunter took a quick step back when Adair began calling out for me through the device. Hunter’s eyes were still on mine as we stood there, gaping at each other.

  When I found my breath to speak again, I could barely whisper, “I should go check on him.”

  Hunter nodded, and against all forces of the universe telling me to walk right up to him and finish what we hadn’t even started, I turned and fled from the backyard to the safety of an upset three-year-old.

  As I padded up the stairs, touching my lips, I couldn’t help wondering what on earth I had been about to do. Because one thing I had learned from life was that big, brooding men like Hunter were bad news in a delicious wrapping.

  One I shouldn’t fall for.

  One I had to resist.

  The real question wasn’t whether I should resist or not, but whether I could.

  I didn’t think I could.

  Chapter Five

  Hunter

  Too close.

  Far too close.

  I had underestimated my attraction to Mallory. Her standing there, looking all shy and shit with that pink shirt that dipped far too low, revealing the nice, round globes of her rather large rack, did things to me that could only be solved by stripping her naked and shoving my dick so far into her that she would be ruined for other men.

  I had avoided her for the past few days since our … moment in the backyard. She had only been in my territory for two fucking days back then, and I was already trying to piss on her leg.

  That wasn’t okay.

  I wasn’t possessive. I didn’t give a shit what or who other women did. Not because I didn’t care if someone cheated on me, but because I didn’t do relationships. Mallory went beyond the exception. She was someone I couldn’t even think about fucking. Not that it was stopping me stripping her naked in my mind, but because I couldn’t screw up my relationship with her due to Adair. She could turn into one of those psycho moms who used the kid to manipulate me. Although Mallory didn’t seem like that kind of person, I wouldn’t take any chances, not even to satisfy my overexcited libido.

  She was another bit of pussy. Not to mention, she was so damn crazy I was beginning to hope it wasn’t contagious. I sure as hell hoped it wasn’t hereditary; otherwise, I would have to start worrying about Adair. I could get one of those genetic tests done on him. Was it even possible to test for crazy?

  Fuck, I was doomed.

  “Dude,” Jax called out, walking up to my perch at the bar. “You’ve been here more times this week than I can count on ten hands. Sexy momma keepin’ you up at night?”

  Too right. Not that I would admit it. That would lead to the next confession that me and my hand had started getting along better.

  “Fuck off.” I was too tired to argue with him.

  “Now, now, if you’re having that much trouble, I can take her off your hands for a little while.” Jax winked, that playboy smirk peeking out from behind his beer.

  “Leave her alone,” I warned. If I couldn’t have my way with her, letting Jax slip into her panties and get her all wound up just to break her heart, as usual, wasn’t going to happen.

  “Just offering.” Jax shrugged, waving his hands in surrender.

  “Well, don’t.”

  Jax’s brow rose high up to his hairline before he let out a slow whistle. “She’s been here, what? A week? And she already has you wound up this tight. Damn, man, now I have to check her out.”

  I didn’t even remember moving, but suddenly I had Jax pressed up against the side of the bar with my hand around his throat.

  Jax was a hell of a lot smaller and slimmer than me, yet he was a fast and dirty fighter. Right then, though, I was more than itching for a fight.

  I heard Wolf yelling as I tried to cool the anger sparking through my veins. I started counting back from ten in my head, letting my anger die with each number. Wolf yanked me away at number three, and I let Jax go.

  Prez grabbed me by the scruff of my cut. The huge hulk of a man dragged me straight out the front door, saying, “Whatever the hell is going on with that girl, you get it sorted out. I won’t ask questions, because I don’t give a shit, but don’t fuckin’ bring it into the club. The Hell’s Runners may have stayed quiet over the last three years, but when they do decide to hash it out with the club again, I don’t want anyone turning on each other. You got it?”

  Wolf rarely ranted at one of us, but when it came down to loyalty, he made fucking sure we kept it. “Loyalty is what protects the club, because if brothers have our backs, then we’ve got our brothers’ backs, and that’s what keeps us alive,” he had said so many times it was pretty much club code.

  “Got it,” I said, stretching out my arms.

  “Good.” Wolf unfolded his arms from across his huge chest.

  I knew Wolf wouldn’t let me stride back in, and going home would only make the aforementioned problems worse, so I turned in the direction of my bike, thinking a ride might calm me down.

  I didn’t get two steps before Wolf stopped me, clasping my shoulders with his huge paws.

  “Jax, get the fuck out here.”

  Ah, shit. I had hoped to get away from this part.

  Jax came swaggering his way out the door with a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Disrespecting your brother in front of the club requires payback.” Wolf shrugged as if it was physics and he couldn’t do anything about it. “It’s all healthy.”

  “Not the face,” I said as Jax stepped forward. “I don’t wanna scare the kid.”

  Jax winked. “Don’t worry, brother; I’m always looking out for you.”

  “Yeah, right, you pri—”

  As I said before, Jax was fast.

  His fist pou
nded into my stomach before I could finish, and then he twisted his knuckles, burying it in that little bit deeper.

  I was winded for a moment, but I refused to double over as I caught my breath.

  To piss him off, I added, “Prick.”

  Wolf laughed, slapping both of us hard on the shoulders before heading back toward the door. As he turned around, I tried so hard not to laugh. Really, I did.

  Jax was the one who burst out laughing.

  Wolf turned back to us, confusion in his eyes while tears were pricking in Jax’s. I kept my face blank, which didn’t do much to stop the flash of realization then irritation lighting up Wolf’s face like the Fourth of July.

  “What the fuck did she do?” he growled, turning furiously to look over his back.

  “Did you really, Prez?” Jax asked between laughs.

  “Did I what?” Wolf snapped, his frustration rising.

  At that point, Jax burst into another fit of laughter, clutching his waist as if he was the one who had gotten punched there.

  “Prez,” Lamb called, leaning out of the doorway, dressed in his typical silk shirt and trousers with his ash-blond hair spiked and styled. Posh fucker. “Why do you have ‘I cried at Dirty Dancing’ written on the back of your neck?”

  “Fuckin’ what is written on my neck?” His voice dropped low, and even Jax had to suck in a breath at the rising tension.

  Lamb took the opportune moment to fuck with him like the shit stirrer he was. “It says, ‘I cried at Dir—’ ”

  “I know what it fuckin’ says!” Wolf snapped, rubbing back and forth across his neck until the skin turned red. “Why won’t this shit come off?” He tilted his head to look in a window’s reflection.

  “I hope that’s not permanent marker, Prez,” Lamb added, the grin on his face telling me he was loving every second of screwing with him far too much.

  “I hope it’s not a tattoo. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past her to use one.” Of course, Jax didn’t want to be left out.

  “He would have felt it if she was stabbing him with a needle, stupid,” I countered, smacking him upside his head. Sometimes I forgot Jax was only twenty-nine. He might be my best friend, but every now and then, he reminded me of why I contemplated my life choices on occasion. Though Mallory would probably join him in that aspect soon.