I can feel the air leave the room. My knees go weak. Her face blurs.
“I’m so sorry. I answered when it rang and—”
“You shouldn’t have done that!”
“I know.” A tear falls down her cheek. “He was really horrible to you.”
I turn my back to her as blood roars in my head. I’ve got a hand covering my face, but I can sense her movement as she comes to stand in front of me. “I heard him say something about Priscilla. Is that why you and her are...I mean, is that why you have sex with her? Because of the—”
“There is no why!” I snap. “There is no why! Where you’re concerned, there is no why! Quit asking questions and just GO! Fuck it, Libby! Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you!”
“From what?” Her blue eyes blink. “What’s going on? Is she trying to frame you, Hunter?”
“I don’t know,” I answer finally.
She touches my shoulder. “Your back...”
I raise my head to look her in the eye. The pity on her face cracks something in me open. I shift my weight, trying to draw a breath. I can’t take the pity, so I dip into my reservoir of anger instead. It makes my tone sharper when I ask, “Did you ever think maybe I like that shit?”
“Well, do you?”
“What do you think?” I grab her shoulder without thinking about my bloody hands. As soon as I see my stained fingers on her, I feel dizzy. “Do you think I like it?”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes, holding onto mine, are huge. Her face looks pale and worried. Out of nowhere, guilt slams through me. I should never have brought her into my home. And if she heard any of that conversation with my dad…
Damnit!
I do the only thing I can to say I’m sorry.
Elizabeth
BEFORE HUNTER KISSES me, I really think he’s going to throw me out of his house. He’s bleeding, upset, radiating anger and frustration, and I’m just...here. After he asked me to go.
Then he cups his palm around my nape and pulls me close. He holds me against him and and then draws back. Our eyes meet, and he leans down and starts to kiss me like he’s drowning and I’m air.
I kiss him back, returning fire for fire, because he’s Hunter and my body just responds. But my mind is spinning. Someone hit him when he was a kid? His stepmother, Rita, the one his father accused him of killing? Is that why he lets Priscilla hurt him? And Priscilla is having sex with Cross’s father? Is that why Cross hates her so much?
It dawns on me that Hunter is right. This is some really big stuff. Some huge stuff, and I don’t know what’s going on. But as Hunter’s tongue slips past mine, I forget it all.
I tug his hair and run my free hand up his shoulder. He’s shirtless now, here in his gym, and I can feel the line of every muscle. My hand settles over his strong nape as he kisses roughly down my neck and I moan, “Hunter.”
“You’re a stubborn...woman...Libby,” he pants as he kisses down my chest and rips my button-up blouse open. His hands tickle behind my back, and my bra is off in seconds. I’m gasping against his jaw as his fingers make quick work of my pants. He lays me on the bright blue workout mat and moves his hand between my legs, moaning hoarsely when his fingers find their mark. I’m not wearing underwear; I didn’t want a panty line.
“Jesus, Libby. So damn gorgeous.”
He slides a finger in and I’m clinging to his shoulders as he rubs his cock against my thigh. I can feel how hard he is, and I want him inside me.
“Hunter,” I pant. I want to tell him what I need but I can’t find my voice.
Hunter
I SHOULDN’T TAKE this any further, but her mouth on mine is like a vindication. Her hands, reaching for my cock and stroking through my jeans, are so careful. I can’t resist how soft and sweet she is. I crawl down her legs and position myself over her, then dip down and taste her sweetness, showing her how hungry I am.
I go at her aiming to please, and she comes quickly with a throaty cry that makes my dick pulse. Then, when I assume she’ll turn onto her side and lie there for a second, she pushes herself up on one arm, leaning her forehead on my shoulder. I’m astonished when I realize she’s not actually leaning on me; she’s trying to reach past my torso.
“Why are you doing this?” I manage as her slim hand works its way into my pants.
“I don’t know.” She laughs. “I’m crazy, I think. Every time I see you, I...”
“You what.” I grab her chin, because I want to hear this, and I want to see her eyes when she says it.