Broken for Me (Be for Me 5)

Hunter stood, his gaze slipping past Luisa, and walked away. People parted without him saying a word. In less than ten seconds he’d gone from that comfortable back corner to the office door behind the bar. Luisa followed in lethal silence. He hadn’t reached to take her hand. He hadn’t said anything. She couldn’t believe his ice-cool reaction. He looked like her sudden appearance didn’t bother him at all.

Her control slipped further. The defenses that she’d held firm and strong for so long were too battered—by tiredness, desertion, loneliness and need. She couldn’t hold her hurt together, not for a second longer.

He shut the door behind her and locked it. A couple of paces into the room she spun to face him. He stayed in position in front of that door.

He stared—still silent—that Hunter statue of old. Like he no longer wanted to speak to her the way he had on their island. And that torched her.

“I was fine Hunter. Fine.” In this second, she hated him. “But then you smash into my life. You turn it upside down. You tear me apart.”

When he didn’t care? When he could sit there laughing…

“You made me want you,” she accused him. “You made me need you. You made me—”

She broke off. He still didn’t move, damn him.

She dragged in another breath but her lungs were burning. Her whole body felt crushed. “And then you walked away.”

“You told me to walk away,” he answered too calmly.

Her fury unleashed. “But if you loved me, you would have fought. Why didn’t you fight for me? Why didn’t any of them fight?” Jack and Ellie too? Why hadn’t they tried harder to stay with her? Why had they all left her? It hurt so much. “I didn’t mean it when I left Fiji,” she reproached both herself and him. “I didn’t know what I was thinking… How could you leave me? I hate you for leaving me.” Tears cascaded. Huge fat acidic tears that burned worse than bile. The lump in her throat was a rock she couldn’t swallow. “I hate you for making me…”

Her voice cracked. He opened his arms and took two steps forward to catch her as she crumpled.

She wasn’t just crying, she was wailing. Her whole body curled inwards. The pain was so intense she couldn’t take it. But he held her together—close and tight, gently rocking her. Not trying to shush her. Not saying anything. Just being there for her as she shattered. She couldn’t hold it in.

Or keep him out.

She’d never wanted this. She’d never, ever wanted this.

“It hurts so much,” she whispered brokenly. “I missed you so much.”

He picked her up and carried her over to a low chair, settling her in his lap.

“I hate how they left,” she muttered. “I hate how it makes me feel. You were right. You were so right about everything.”

Eventually the storm of tears subsided leaving her limp, so worn out she couldn’t think. She rested on him, safe in his strong arms. The front of his shirt was damp. Beneath it she felt his heat, the solidness of his muscle, and heard the thud, thud, thud of his heart. It beat fast, but he was holding her gently. Yet as she calmed, she realized the pace of his pulse was picking up. She lifted her head to look at him. He had a watchful, guarded expression in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said all that just then.” She breathed out to ease the tightness in her lungs. “Some of those things weren’t really for you, you know?”

He cupped her cheek with a tender hand. “I should have come back—”

“No.” She shook her head. “That was awful of me to be angry about that. I was just so hurt to see you laughing there and it was the last straw.”

“You didn’t want to see me happy?” His lips twisted ruefully.

“Not without me,” she admitted. “I was so jealous.”

He laughed a little.

“I’m not perfect,” she said sadly. “I’m not brave. And I’m so fickle.” Impossibly her eyes welled with more tears. “How many times were you going to have to come back for me when I was awful to you? It was so unfair of me to say that to you just now.”

“But it’s how you feel.”

“I was terrified you’d moved on already.” Twin tears slid down her cheeks. A dull ache throbbed in her head. How could she have any tears left? “You were laughing,” she muttered, still recovering from it.

“It was a good joke,” he muttered, but he looked somber. “Why are you here.”

“Because I wanted you to know the truth. About everything. About how I feel.” Tenderly, warily, she cupped his jaw. She loved the rough stubble tickling her palm, loved being able to touch him again—even if it couldn’t be forever. She could have this moment. “I was wrong to send you away. Wrong to reject what I feel for you. I do love you Hunter. So much. Always so much. But I want you to have more than what I can offer.”

He didn’t appear to react in any way. But she could feel his heart racing.

“That’s not your decision to make. I know what I want. And I want you.” He sighed. “But now I think you need some security and my job doesn’t come with that.”

“I don’t like the danger that comes with it, but I know how important it is to you. I know how much you need to help other people.” She understood that the drive to make a difference to other people was part of his identity. Because he was searching—that incompleteness within himself was something he didn’t want others to have to face. He was kind like that.

“You said you could never know who you are.” She pushed past the shaking emotion clogging her throat. “But I know who you are.” She held his face in both hands so she could look right into his eyes as she spoke her truth. So he couldn’t turn from her and hide the way she knew they could both be guilty of. “I can tell you who you are. I can show you.”

He didn’t answer, but she saw the intensity in his expression and felt the stiffening of his muscles and that speeding pulse.

“You’re a man who keeps his promises—who’ll help someone else, even if its going to hurt him.” She ran her tongue along her dry lip and forced herself to speak stronger, because this was so important. “You put others first. You care. You’re the guy who’s so loyal to his friends he flies halfway round the world to help them. You’re the one who can sit quietly and let others take the limelight. Who isn’t afraid to applaud others. Who’s humble—happy to remain out of sight, unrewarded, even when he’s the one who’s done all the work. You’re the one who’s honest.”

He looked down. But she snuck in closer, she wouldn’t let him look away from her this time.

“Look at me. Let me in,” she whispered. “I won’t let you down again. I won’t ever let you down. For as long as you want me, for as long as I’m here, I’m yours.”

She wouldn’t let him retreat behind those barriers of his own. Because of him she’d torn hers down, she had to obliterate the last of his too. Because he had them. It wasn’t that he wasn’t brave. It was that he didn’t quite believe. Not just in her, but that anyone could love him this way. But she’d prove it to him. Over and over again for all the years she had to come.

“You have a huge heart, you deserve to be put first in someone else’s. To have someone care unconditionally and give you all the love and support and family that you should have. You’re not just a good man, Hunter, you’re the best.”

“I’m not a saint, Luisa,” he growled, his

muscles bunching beneath her. “I’m not perfect.”

“Maybe not. But you’re perfect for me.” Her eyes welled yet again and her words tumbled as she pushed to get that past that constriction in her throat before she sobbed and was rendered speechless again. “You’re everything I want. And I’m selfish Hunter, I want to keep you even when I can’t give you—”

“I don’t want anything but you,” he suddenly barked. “Not anything else.”

His hands moved, holding her less gently. The restraint he’d put himself under was slipping.

“Then have me.” She offered herself unconditionally, letting her body softly mold to the hardness of his. “Have me for as long as you want me.”

She would take whatever he wanted to give her. Because she wanted to give everything she had to him—as limited as it was.

Emotion flared in his eyes and his jaw clenched. Searingly hot need radiated from him to her and back again. An undeniable force, the power of desire was unstoppable.

“Need you,” he gritted.

“Have me.” She offered again. “Have me, have me, have me.”

His kiss was hard and ruthless. There was zero finesse and she didn’t give a damn. She just pushed closer too—overwhelmed by the need to connect. She met his passion fiercely, opening her mouth so he could plunge deep—so she could sweep her tongue into him too. His hands shifted, fumbling frantically, releasing the buckle of his belt, the few domes on his jeans, fighting the fabric aside so his erection sprang free and strained towards her. She cursed the stupid decision to wear leggings. But he simply lifted her with one hand, showing super-human strength and desperation, pulling them down.

“Miss you,” he groaned.

“Love you.”

He stood, planting his feet wide, to hoist her with that insane strength of his. She wrapped her legs around his waist. A moment later he drove her down to his hilt. Hard. Again. Again. Again.

She screamed as impending orgasm tensed every muscle. It twisted through her like a tornado. His guttural shout echoed in her ears as he too surged and shuddered with ecstatic completion.