by Melody Grace
God, I want him.
Desire snakes through me, and it’s all I can do to stay frozen in his arms, forcing my breathing to stay steady and not betray the dirty thoughts flooding my mind.
I want to tear that T-shirt from his body.
I want to lick my way down his chest.
I want to feel that weight bearing down on me, surrounding me, invading me...
“Better?” Hunter murmurs, oblivious to the X-rated movie playing in my mind. Of course he’s oblivious: he’s trying to keep me warm, and meanwhile, I’m using any excuse to be close to him.
“You’re such a gentleman,” I tell him, guilty.
And you’re such a slut, the voice in my mind adds.
“I’m not.” Hunter answers.
I laugh. “Please. Taking me out, planning all this stuff. You’re like the dictionary definition of chivalry.”
“Don’t say that.” Something hollow in Hunter’s voice makes me lift my face to see him. He’s got a twisted look marring his face, a shadow in his eyes.
“I’m no gentleman.” he mutters darkly. “Believe me.”
“You are—”
He speaks over my protest. “If I was a gentleman, I wouldn’t have picked this ride, just to get you alone someplace you couldn’t run. I wouldn’t have slipped the guy twenty bucks to stop when we reached the top,” he continues, with self-loathing expression, “And I sure as hell wouldn’t be hard right now, crazy with wanting you.”
What?
I blink at him, my mind reeling as I try to process what he’s just said.
He wants me.
He wants me.
The words are like a lit fuse, igniting my ravenous desire. It’s more than I can stand. Before I stop to think, or even breathe, I reach across the booth and grab him by the shirt, pulling him across and kissing him with everything I have.
Hunter freezes against me, shocked, but it’s too late to take it back. His lips taste of cotton candy; forbidden and achingly sweet. I have to have it all. I run my fingers through his hair, kissing him hungrily, delving into the dark warmth of his mouth to drink him in deeper and tease his tongue with mine.
He breaks.
Hunter lets out a tortured groan, and then he’s yanking me closer, kissing me with a fevered intensity that blots the world from my vision and fills my mind with stars.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. My blood sings, pounding wildly in my ears as Hunter’s mouth devours mine. His hands rove across my body, clutching at my waist, my back, my hair, sending fresh waves of desire through me with every touch. I clutch at him, overwhelmed, dizzy with the sensation, but it’s not enough. I break away, kissing a trail down his jaw, licking daringly at the salty-sweat taste of his skin.
“Goddammit.” Hunter groans again, gripping my hips and lifting me so I’m straddling his lap. The safety bar of the Ferris car digs into my back, but I’m beyond caring. All I can feel is the sweet friction of Hunter, pressing hard between my thighs, and the blazing path of his mouth as he kisses down my neck and licks across the sensitive hollow of my throat.
I shudder in his arms.
“You’re so beautiful.” Hunter gasps, lifting his eyes to meet mine. “Your body is a fucking miracle.”
I can’t speak. The feelings crashing over me are almost too much to take. We’re suspended here, high above the world, but if it wasn’t for the hard steel behind me, and Hunter’s arms, gripping me close, I feel like I could take off and fly.
I lower my lips and kiss him again, hard and fast, falling in the depths of him. Hunter moves his hand down from my face, sliding his palm down my neck and against the swell of my breast.
Oh God.
A forbidden thrill shivers through me. We’re out in the open, with people in the cars above and below us, but nobody can see his wicked touch, hidden by our bodies. I bite down on his lip, daring. Hunter pauses, then reaches for me again, his fingers dancing this time across the sensitive skin at the neckline of my tank. Shocks fly through me. I gasp for air.
Hunter lets out a low growl. He pulls away from my lips and dips his head, kissing a blazing path down my neck and along the curve of my collarbone. Jesus. I shudder in his arms, trying my hardest not to make a sound, but I can’t control the whimper of pleasure that slips from my lips.
Hunter’s body clenches beneath me, and I feel him exhale in a shudder against my skin. God, he feels so good, I can’t help but rock against him, lost in the sensation of his lips blazing on my skin and his tongue—oh, his tongue—snaking lower, dipping beneath the fabric of my tank to—
There’s a jolt, and the Ferris wheel begins to move again.
I sit up with a gasp. My eyes meet Hunter’s, the daze in his expression matching my own. “Fuck!” he swears, panting. “Jesus, fuck!” He lifts me off his lap, setting me back down beside him as I scramble to pull my shirt back into place. My heart races, skin burning with the memory of his touch. I smooth my hair down, reeling from the explosion of passion, and the lust still clawing at me, demanding. Insistent.
Too soon, the fairground rises up to meet us. The wheel slows, passengers climbing out of the cars in front.
“You good?” Hunter asks, his voice thick and ragged.
I nod, wordless.
“OK,” he says, still short of breath. “OK.”
Our car descends the final distance. The operator lifts the safety bar with a grin. “Enjoy the trip?” he asks, with a knowing look, as Hunter takes my hand to help me out. My legs are unsteady, and I stumble, falling against him. Hunter holds me up.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tells the man, before dragging me away.
I’m still so dizzy from what just happened, I don’t even notice until we’re back in the parking lot beside Hunter’s truck. It’s dark here, and there’s nobody around to see, just rows of empty cars forming a screen, hiding us from the world. I pull him close, reaching up on my tip-toes to kiss him again.
“Brit,” Hunter breaks away. Disappointment crashes through me. “Not here,” he answers, as if he can read my mind. I reach for him again, but he stays back, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. “I can’t,” he says, like he’s trying to convince himself. “If you kiss me, I won’t be able to stop, and the things I want to do to you…” Hunter takes a long breath, then gives me a crooked grin. “Let’s just say they would get us arrested in every damn state in the union.”
My legs go weak again.
“Then where?” I ask, breathless.
“Your place,” he answers, pulling open the truck door for me. “Or…”
“Or?” I echo.
Hunter looks at me, eyes blazing with a dark desire. “Or I could show you the ranch.”
We ride back to Beachwood Bay in near-silence, just the radio playing an old rock mix CD Hunter throws in the player. Incubus, I recognize, from when I was a kid.
Meet me in outer space…
The song fills the cab of the truck, wrapping us in a restless melody. Hunter keeps his eyes fixed to the road, and I sneak a look at him whenever I let myself take the chance. His profile is shadowed; chiseled and perfect, his T-shirt sleeve riding up his bicep whenever he reaches for the dashboard.
I feel a shiver. Anticipation fills the space between us, billowing larger with every breath. The dark roads fly by, a cool breeze whipping through the open windows, but the chill does nothing to soothe the hot fire licking in my veins.
Desire.
The fairground was one thing. However shameless we were on that ride—and it makes me flush, my stomach twisting in a delicious dance just to think of it—we were in public. There were limits how far we could go, how many boundaries we could break. But as Hunter turns the truck up a long, winding driveway, past the ranch gates, I realize how completely alone we are out here in the middle of the country. Fields and paddocks stretch on every side, dark and silent under the starry sky. No people. No crowds.
No limits.
Hunter
pulls up in front of the large main house. To our left are stables and a barn, looking bright and freshly painted under the security lights. He gets out, and then before I can open the door, he quickly circles the truck and does it for me, holding out his hand to help me down.
“I’m good,” I tell him, but he grabs my hand anyway, rolling his eyes at my protest.
“Get down here.”
His touch is warm and strong, and his fingers close around mine even when I’m safe on solid ground.
I turn to the ranch.
“So, this is it,” he says, almost bashful. “It was in a pretty bad state when I first got down here. The family pretty much just left it to rot after grandpa died, but I managed to find some guys to help out with construction and getting it back in shape. I was lucky,” he adds, glancing up at the place. “Old buildings like this are built to last.”
He leads me past the big front porch towards the stables. Everything is freshly swept and clean, the scent of hay and horses in the air. “I’ve got three right now, but when this place is fully up and running, there’ll be ten, maybe more. I’ve got my eye on a stud down in Tennessee I want to breed, he took a bad fall in the Derby, but his bloodline is the best.”
“It all looks great,” I tell him, glancing around. I realize for the first time the scale of the place. This isn’t just some tiny house and a couple of horses, this is a full-on, sprawling property—a huge barn, the stables, farm buildings out on the edge of the field. And all of it brought up to date with loving care. “How long have you been back?” I ask curiously. “No way you got all this done since Friday.”
“I got here a few weeks ago,” Hunter replies.
“Wait, what?” I turn to stare. “That’s impossible. I haven’t seen you anywhere in town. And nobody said a word… Beachwood loves to gossip. It was all over town within hours when Emerson bought the beach house.”
Hunter gives a shrug, looking away. “I like to keep a low profile. My family has a history in this town… I guess I wasn’t ready to see everyone again.”
Everyone…
Hunter keeps walking, past the barn and into the stables, but I fall behind, my mind racing. Does he mean me?
No, he couldn’t. This is just me reading too much into things. It was one night we shared, years ago, and Lord knows a man like Hunter has had dozens of nights like that since, with hundreds of other girls. Sure, something’s happening between us now, when I’m right in front of him, but I bet I never even crossed his mind until the night he stopped by Jimmy’s and found me about to rip Trey’s cheating face apart with my bare hands.
“And these are the girls,” Hunter says, as we reach three occupied stables.. The horses are resting, curled up in the corners of their stalls. “You got them on a good night, usually, there’s some kind of drama kicking off.”
One of them, a sleek bay, sees us watching. She unfolds herself, and paces over to investigate. “Hey girl,” Hunter’s voice drops as the horse pokes her nose over the stable door. He reaches to pet her, she shies back, hooves skittering on the floor. “Easy there,” he murmurs. Hunter pulls a pack of mints from his pocket, and slips one onto his palm. He reaches for the horse again, murmuring softly the whole time in a low, soothing voice. “That’s right, it’s OK. Nothing to worry about here. See? Just some candy for you. You like that, don’t you?”
I watch the horse settle, sniffing suspiciously before snaffling the treat and crunching it down. Hunter pets her slowly, gently stroking the soft hair on her cheek. “She’s a good girl,” he tells me, smiling. “She’s just a little skittish, isn’t that right?”
The horse snorts in agreement, nostrils flaring.
“You have a gift,” I tell him, awed. I’m watching something special here, I can tell. I remember the horse back at the fairgrounds, and how Hunter talked it down when it panicked. The way he communicates with them, it’s like a secret language, something more than words.
“How does it work, the way you handle them?”
Hunter pauses. “I don’t know how to describe it.”
“Try,” I prompt him, curious now. I’m so used to guys just crashing around the place, leaving chaos in their wake. It’s something new to see a man so in tune with the world around him, like he can sense every shift in the animal’s mood.
“OK, so… the thing you have to understand about horses, is, they love people, but they’re wild. An animal who’s been out roaming around, he’s not going to take orders from anyone.” Hunter begins to stroll again, down towards the deserted part of the stables, where the stalls are open and freshly swept, stacked with bales of hay. I follow. “Some guys, when they break a horse, they go hard. It’s like a battle of wills, you know, who’s going to submit.”
“But not you?”
He shakes his head. “My grandpa taught me, you’ve got to earn their trust. You have to make it so they’re curious, they want to know what you’ve got in store. First, a leading rope, so they have plenty of room. It feels like they’re still on their own terms, you know? Then when they’re used to you, you try a bridle. A bit more control. Sometimes, I’m working for months before I even try a saddle. By then, they have to trust you completely, enough to surrender.”
Surrender.
The word makes me shiver. I don’t know how I’m getting turned on, standing in the middle of a stable, but listening to Hunter speak sends a thick sweetness rising in my body; my nipples tightening under the thin fabric of my tank. I can’t help but imagine those hands on me, so sure and controlling; that voice whispering forbidden secrets in my ear…
“What was that look?”
I glance up to find Hunter watching me, a crooked smile on his face. My cheeks burn.
“Nothing!” I yelp.
He raises an eyebrow, teasing. “Tell me.”
I shake my head, blushing furiously. Damn my dirty mind, not keeping my thoughts under control.
“Not talking?” Hunter drawls. “Shame. I’ll just have to take a guess.” His eyes meet mine, a direct challenge. “You want to know if I’m still as good as I was three years ago.
Suddenly, the air goes out of my lungs. I gasp, shocked by how blatant he is, but dammit, even more turned on. “Whatever.” I roll my eyes, desperately trying to stay cool. “That night was nothing special.”
“Bullshit.” Hunter’s gaze drifts lower. He smirks. I quickly cross my arms over my chest. “You loved it.”
“It was fine, I guess.” I make an exaggerated shrug. “You were just a kid. You didn’t know what you were doing.”
“I knew enough to make you come.”
My legs go weak. Hunter is still gazing at my body, eyes roving over my flesh with blatant desire. I know I should say something, make some kind of protest, or deny his arrogant claims, but I’m caught, frozen in his naked stare and the sexy, forbidden words coming from that perfect mouth.
“So what?” I finally manage, my heart pounding in my ears. I don’t know what I’m doing, taunting him like this, I just know I can’t stop. “That’s no real achievement. I can come anytime I want.” I waggle my fingers at him in a wave.
Big mistake.
Hunter’s eyes flash with desire, and then he’s grabbing my wrists, shoving me back into one of the empty stalls until my back hits the wall. I gasp. “Not the way I do it.” Hunter growls, his jaw clenched with tension. “Not the way I make you feel.”
My pulse races, my gaze never leaving his. I’m trapped under his hold, Hunter’s body looming above me, a solid mass of muscle and power. “Well I’ve got news for you, darlin’. I’m not that kid anymore.” He leans closer, so his next words are only a whisper, the rough scratch of his voice sending a rush of quicksilver to my very core.
“I’m better.”
I feel a shudder of desire at the promise, but before I can catch my breath, Hunter’s lips capture mine in a punishing kiss.
I moan. If our kisses before were a lit fuse, this is the inferno, wild and demanding, and raging out of control.
I arch up against him, straining at the grip on my wrists, but Hunter doesn’t release me. He doesn’t need to. His mouth ravages mine, totally possessing; his tongue plunging deep in my mouth, his body smothering mine. I’m powerless against the onslaught of pleasure, every last one of my protests obliterated under the thundering force of his kiss.
Jesus!
I moan into his mouth, desire consuming me with its raging flame. Hunter releases my wrists in answer, moving his hands to grip my thighs and wrap my legs around his waist. He lifts me off my feet as if I weigh nothing, slamming me down against a bale of hay and covering my body with his own. I shudder at his weight, pressing me down, overwhelming. I can feel him through his jeans, pressing hard between the apex of my thighs, thick and ready, and the realization sends a new, wet ache flooding to my core.
Hunter pulls back. “Take off your shirt.” He growls. I can only blink up at him, helpless. Can’t he see coherent thought is beyond me now?
Hunter’s expression darkens. “I said, take. Off. Your. Shirt.”
His words are slow. Deliberate.
An order.
I struggle to sit up, my heart racing. I lift the tank top over my head, breathless under Hunter’s gaze. He watches me, not saying a word, so I remove my bra too, slowly unhooking the clasp and shrugging the straps from my shoulders.
Hunter looks down at me, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes roam over every inch of my bare skin, and I shiver, feeling the hungry sweep of his gaze as if it were his touch.
“Goddammit, Brit.” Hunter lets out a groan, then swoops down to kiss me again, his mouth desperate and fierce. I’m finally free to touch him, and God, I do: my hands roving over the solid planes of his shoulders, grabbing greedy handfuls of his shirt. I slide my fingers under the fabric, reveling in the touch of his bare skin, the taut, smooth mass of muscle and pure power, just waiting to be unleashed. I need to feel it on me, nothing between us, so I tug impatiently at his shirt, trying to lift it over his head.
