A Lovely Confession (Debt of Passion Duet Book 2) Page 10

  The moment I stood back up, my eyes connected with Hunter’s cold blue gaze, heavy and sinking with heat as they traveled up and down my lean frame. I covered my breasts with my arms to hide the tattoo there. I wasn’t ready for him to see that. I swallowed as we drank in the appearance of one another for a moment. His tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, and I remembered that he had asked me a question.

  “Strange men?” I clarified. “None other than you. Careful, Hunter. If you keep worrying about my safety, I’ll start to think you care.”

  My words seemed to break the spell, casting a dark look of annoyance on Hunter’s face. “I do care, Roe,” he whispered. “The problem is, I need to stop.”

  I wanted to ask why and slap him across the cheek, but refrained. “So what’s the plan?” I asked while slipping on my shirt without a bra and working the tight pants up my thighs.

  “There is no plan. I’m not going to work for Gavriel again.” Hunter looked around the room. “And I don’t care if he knows it either,” he added loudly. “You hear that, Gav? I don’t care.” He was practically shouting now. If the room was bugged, Gavriel definitely got the message. I was worried about Nicole. This wasn’t the news I was hoping for, and the Bullets leader didn’t seem like the type to take no for an answer.

  “And how does Gavriel feel about that?” I asked.

  Hunter clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists. “He threatened to kill you and Nicole.”

  I figured that would be Gavriel’s next move, but hearing Hunter say it so plainly sent a chill up my spine. “And are you going to let him?” I asked.

  “I haven’t decided yet,” he growled in response.

  I walked up to Hunter, approaching him with a sense of caution. Once we were toe to toe, I gently placed my hand on his chest. I reveled in the feel of his pounding heart. “You made the decision when you came here to check on me,” I whispered, too scared that my cocky words would trigger his fight-or-flight response. Hunter Hammond was repelled by the idea of showing he cared. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” he rasped. I took a step closer and breathed him in. Hunter still smelled of sweat from working in the barn all day. I briefly wondered what it would be like to live out here with him. With him working with horses, and me selling poetry by the moonlight. I envisioned us in a tiny house with a view of the mountains. I imagined him coming home every day and us standing just like this.

  “Stop looking at me like I’m your hero. I don’t want trouble in Joshua Tree. I’ve built a life here, and it would look bad if you turned up dead.”

  He had a point, but I still clung to the hope that he cared. “Until I can figure out what to do, you’re staying with me.” He grunted before taking a step back and stripping out of his clothes.

  My mouth watered at the sight of him. “W-what are you doing?” I asked.

  “Taking a shower. We need to be in a public space, so we’re going to the bar tonight.”

  “It’s Sunday,” I stammered as he shrugged off his boxers and proudly made his way over to the bathroom.

  “That hasn’t stopped me before. Grab my clothes from my truck, will ya?” he asked playfully while gripping the door handle. “I want to look good for Roxanne.” Fucking bastard. “And try not to get killed during your walk to the parking lot. I’d hate for a sniper to get you.”

  I marched outside to his truck and grabbed what looked like an overnight duffel bag he kept under the passenger seat for such occasions. Grabbing it, I cursed him all the way down the pavement, through my motel door and into the bathroom. My anger and jealousy stalled the moment I saw the outline of his tanned body in the frosted shower glass.

  “Have trouble finding it?” he asked, his voice teetering the line between playfulness and breathy annoyance. I grabbed the shower door and opened it, licking my lips at the sight of his rock-hard dick covered in soap suds. He was breathing deeply, and his heated eyes drank me in.

  I dumped the entire contents of the duffel bag on the shower floor.

  “You fucking brat,” he growled. He didn’t move for his clothes, now soaking wet. He was too taut and rigid.

  “Were you stroking yourself just now?” I asked while stepping into the shower. His eyes went wide with shock, and he stepped away from me, his back hitting the cool glass. He almost seemed afraid of my touch.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. I stepped under the stream of water, letting it soak my white shirt, turning it see-through. I could feel my hair sticking to my back. My nipples were pointed peaks cutting through my shirt. Everything within me ached for a sense of intimacy or connection with him. It wasn’t even purely physical.

  He watched me with twitching fingers. I could tell he wanted to fist his cock at the sight of me. It was time for me to take some of my power back.

  I reached out and wrapped my tiny hand around his large, hard dick. My thumb and index finger barely connected. He was so thick. I stared at the veined prize in my hand and bit my lip. “No one can touch you like I can, Hunter,” I whispered while pumping him. The soapy suds made my movements slick and smooth. “Five long years, and I still think about how you moan when you come. The only time you let go is when you’re balls deep in my pussy, Hunter.”

  His eyes rolled back. Lips parted. His head slammed against the tile as his rippled muscles flexed. Each heaving breath was long slow and exaggerated by lust. I wanted to get off so damn bad. My sex was practically begging for release against the friction of my soaking wet yoga pants. “You feel this?” I asked. “Feel the way I command your cock? Remember how good my soft hand feels sliding up and down.”

  Hunter groaned in response while reaching up to wrap my long, wet hair around his fist. I felt the tension against my scalp and welcomed it. “You can try fucking everything that moves to get me out of your memory, but no one will ever feel the way I do.”

  He tugged me closer and kissed me. Our tongues caressed and fought, and our mouths fucked. His sharp teeth bruised my lip. His hot breath feathered over my skin. I closed my eyes, though I wanted to watch him relax against me. My wet clothes stuck to my skin as I ran my free hand up and down his body.

  Up and down his cock.

  I stroked him until his cum was shooting on my stomach.

  I tasted his groans of pleasure and turned his release into sweet poetry.

  Loving you is delicate.

  Loving you is like dipping your toes in wet concrete. You’re tempted by the idea of permanence, then get stuck when it hardens.

  Loving you is worth it.

  Loving you is like greeting death with a handshake and a smile. You know it’s inevitable, so you let pride guide your journey.

  Loving you is complex.

  Loving you is like dancing barefoot on hot coals. It’s a beautiful serenade but burns you all the same.

  Loving you is demanding.

  Loving you is like holding your breath. It’s got you wondering if oxygen is really necessary.

  Loving you is delicate. Strenuous. Unremitting. Tiring. Spirited.

  Loving you is like this halfhearted thing. Where I supply half the heart and you supply nothing.

  ROE

  The bar was just as crowded on Sunday night as it was Saturday. I guess there really wasn’t much else to do here. Hunter had his hand perched possessively on my hip, and I couldn’t help but preen when we walked through the swinging front doors.

  We hadn’t spoken complete sentences since I got him off in my motel. He got dressed in his work clothes, and I put on jeans and a tank top in silence. It was both an awkward and satisfying feeling. Once again I had no idea what I was doing with Hunter, but at least I felt like I had the upper hand. He said we should try to stay in crowded places in case Gavriel tried anything, but I knew he just didn’t trust himself alone in a motel room with me. I wasn’t in the mood to go to the bar, but he wasn’t giving me much of an option.

  What I really wanted to do was stay in my room and get off. Once again, I
was left wanting, and my clit was practically begging for a little TLC.

  I saw Luna and Butterfly chatting with Roxanne in a corner booth, and even though I liked two-thirds of their girl gang, my stomach still dropped at the sight of all three of them sitting together. Gavriel warned me that jealousy was a weak woman’s emotion, and even though I didn’t think it was wise to take advice from a man that wanted me dead, I forced myself to remember that five years was a long time and whatever Hunter shared with them couldn’t possibly compare to eighteen years of stalking.

  “I’m getting a drink,” Hunter said in a curt tone. “Don’t leave the bar. Stay aware. If anyone seems suspicious, let me know.” I didn’t even get the chance to respond sarcastically before he was abandoning me for a drink. I watched his back as he left, then made my way over to the girls.

  “Hey!” Luna greeted while scooting over in the booth to make room for me. “I heard you spent your day working at the barn with Hunter.”

  “Word travels fast,” I sighed while avoiding Roxanne’s eyes, which were trained on me.

  “Oh sweetie,” Butterfly said from across the table. Her nimble fingers reached across and took hold of my hands resting on the tabletop. “Your energy is all over the place. Do you want to talk about it?”

  Did I want to talk about it? I didn’t even know what to say. I was terrified, sexually frustrated, hurt, annoyed, confused and broken. The combination of her sweet voice, my exhaustion, and fear finally caught up to me. My eyes filled with hot tears that streamed steadily down my face, and the table jumped into a flurry of activity. “I’ve got tissues in my purse,” Luna said while reaching under the table for her crocodile print handbag.

  “I’ll start projecting positive energy and light,” Butterfly replied while closing her eyes and humming.

  My teary eyes finally landed on Roxanne, and she let out a sigh while flipping her brown hair over her shoulder. “For fuck’s sake. I’ll order drinks.”

  Once I had a very strong Long Island in my clutches, Luna made us all do a toast with the exclamation that “men ain’t shit.” I didn’t tell them about how confused I was or how I feared for my and Nicole’s lives. I just drank. And once three empty glasses were lined up before me, I realized Roxanne wasn’t so bad.

  “Good dick is hard to find. Keeping it consistently, even harder,” she said before fishing for the cherry at the bottom of her drink with her tongue. Now that I had more time to look at her, we didn’t seem much alike at all. Her eyes were smaller. Her lips rounder. Her personality was more tenacious. “Why do you think I turned into a territorial bitch with Hunter? He commands orgasms like it’s his job.” I giggled bitterly at that comment while the other two enthusiastically agreed.

  “Preach!” Luna slurred while caressing the air. She’d gotten hot and taken off her black shirt about thirty minutes ago. Now, she was only wearing her sports bra. “I just want orgasms on the daily.”

  “Then you’ll need to practice the beautiful expression of self-love,” Butterfly replied. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes hazy. “The only person that can make me come every time is myself.”

  The four of us started laughing loudly, probably gaining the attention of everyone in the bar. I grabbed a cube of ice from my drink and started running it over my neck and chest, sighing at the cool relief. I was burning up, probably from the copious amounts of alcohol coursing through my veins. “The last two times I’ve been with Hunter, I didn’t get off,” I said with a hiccup.

  Luna gasped.

  Butterfly rubbed a crystal hanging by her neck while exclaiming, “Sweet Mother Earth have mercy.”

  “That’s just fucking unacceptable,” Roxanne slurred.

  A large shadow started looming over me, and my good mood almost immediately dissipated. I felt the entire energy of our table turn sour. Who would have thought that I’d prefer the company of the women Hunter had been sleeping with these past five years over him?

  “Be gone, evil spirit,” Butterfly said with a lyrical wave of her hands.

  The entire room seemed to sway as I tilted my chin up to look at him. He looked slightly buzzed and completely crazed. He massaged the scruff on his jaw while eyeing the scene before him. “You owe this poor girl two orgasms,” Roxanne slurred. “Minimum.”

  “What kind of man doesn’t reciprocate?” Luna added. If I weren’t trashed, I’d probably be embarrassed about this entire situation, but I was gifted with the bliss of not giving a single fuck.

  “Roe, get your ass up. We’re leaving.” His response made my stomach burn. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe I just finally hated him back.

  “Oh hell no,” Luna said while clutching my arm. “We started a girl gang. You can’t have her.”

  “Oh really?” Hunter’s dark voice replied, a hint of humor coloring his tone.

  “Yep!” Butterfly answered. “We’re officially the Hunter Hammond Harem.”

  “Triple H for short,” Roxanne interjected with a hiccup.

  Hunter leaned over the table to whisper in my ear. “We need to leave.”

  “No,” I replied defiantly, making my friends whoop in support.

  Hunter shook his head at my defiance and practically growled. “What the fuck is even happening right now?” he gritted to himself.

  “Never underestimate the magic of drunk girl bonding!” Butterfly sang. “It’s a connection no difference can sever.”

  “Or dick can separate,” Luna added.

  “Or…what they said,” Roxanne added before slumping in her seat.

  “Men ain’t shit!” I yelled, holding up my glass.

  “Men ain’t shit!” they all responded, making Hunter pinch the bridge of his nose.

  Apparently done with the camaraderie, Hunter grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the booth before tossing me over his shoulder. I landed against muscle with an oomph, and I waved at my table of...friends? I didn’t know when I’d ever see them again, life was too unpredictable at the moment. But I waved as Hunter carried me off, feeling good about my time with them.

  Once out of the bar, Hunter started complaining. “Drunk women,” he growled in disgust. My stomach sloshed and twisted.

  “I like them,” I said sleepily while swinging against his back. Nausea rolled through me like a booming thunderstorm. “Put me down before I puke.”

  Hunter quickly set me down on the ground beside his truck. “Do not vomit in my truck,” he warned.

  “I can find a ride back. I don’t want to be around you.” Everything was a confusing mess. I had no filter over my words or actions and didn’t want to do or say anything I couldn’t take back. I felt disconnected from my brain and awareness. Where was I again? My feet hurt. My mouth was dry. I smacked my lips like I could pool moisture from the air and drink from it.

  “Yeah, fuck that. I’m taking your drunk ass home, end of story.”

  Right. I nodded. “Hunter always gets what he wants,” I screamed while ripping open the passenger side door. “It doesn’t matter who he hurts or what anyone else needs. It’s just like always: your way or the fucking highway, like, damn.” Did that even make sense? Probably not. I didn’t even care.

  He had to help me into the seat. Bracing his hot palm against my ass, Hunter shoved me into his truck with more force than necessary before slamming the door shut. I waited as he circled the vehicle, then started yelling at him again when he got inside.

  “Men ain’t shit!” I yelped before cradling my head in my hands. “Why are you so cruel to me?” I scooted over until I was in the middle seat, then rested my head on his shoulder, my voice growing quieter. Softer. More tender. I couldn’t tell if he liked having me there or not. I wasn’t even sure if it mattered. “Did no one ever teach you how to be kind?” I asked.

  Hunter paused for a moment before turning the car on and reaching for my thigh. He rubbed my leg while driving. “I suppose not,” he whispered in a voice barely audible.

  “That’s okay,” I slurred while closing my ey
es. Everything felt so slow. My body was heavy and my throat dry. “I was taught to love too much. All I want to do is love you,” I said before placing my hand over his. “I just want to love you.”

  Hunter continued to drive us to the motel as I started dozing off. The last words I heard him say were, “I know, Pretty Debt. I know.”

  HUNTER

  I watched her sleep.

  She was twisted up in the thick sheets, sweat sticking to her brow and a frown on her face. She was naked and reeked of alcohol. Her hair matted.

  But the steady way she breathed in and out transfixed me. I watched her like I had never stopped.

  I found myself matching my inhales to hers just for the opportunity to feel in sync.

  I just want to love you.

  Her words haunted me all night. If I were being honest with myself, I just wanted the chance to love her back. I wanted it more than anything. But she only knew half the truth—the half that was easier to swallow. The forgivable half. If she knew the rest, she’d never look at me again, no matter what my reasons were.

  Her brown eyes popped open, and I watched her lick at her cracked lips with a dry tongue. She scrunched up her nose and rolled out of bed, marching toward the bathroom on unsteady feet. She hadn’t even noticed that she was lying next to me. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was still drunk.

  I listened as she brushed her teeth and washed her face. With my hands propped behind my head as I lay on the bed, I waited for her to come back out and realize I was here. Would she be mad that I stayed the night? Would she wonder why I stayed? What excuse did I have for being here? The doorknob turned, and she strutted out in all her naked glory.

  “Shit!” she gasped. “You scared me!”

  I smiled as she massaged her temples, forcing my wandering gaze not to look at her toned body. She used to be so soft. She’d trained her muscles over the last few years, and I wanted nothing more than to run my tongue over every inch of her. I had a feeling I would want Roe Palmer in every way. Soft. Hard. Plush. Round with my ch—no. I couldn’t even finish that thought.