Wary, she lifted her gaze to his, but she didn’t see lies in his deep-brown eyes, she saw truth. The same truth she always saw when she looked at him because Hunter O’Donnell was not the kind of man who lied.
“Did you ever look for your birth mother, Kels?”
She shook her head and stared down at his hand holding hers.
“Why not?”
“Because I was never interested in finding her.”
“Is that what’s bothering you tonight? That you might now know when you never wanted to know before?”
She shook her head, fighting the irrational urge to cry.
“Then tell me what is,” he said softer. “It’s more than the possibility this actress could be your mother because God knows that’s the least of our problems at the moment. Something else is bothering you. Something you’re not telling me. I’ve watched you handle way worse than this.” He shifted their hands until their fingers intertwined, and his thumb stroked a soft path of heat across her palm. “Tell me what that is, Kels. Tell me so I can help you.”
Tears burned the backs of her eyes, tears that were both useless and familiar. Closing them quickly so he couldn’t see, she breathed through her nose, hating that he was right, that this was getting to her in a way nothing had before. Hating even more that he was seeing it. She’d vowed to be tough in front of him ever since he’d seen her at her weakest with Julian.
“You can’t help me,” she managed.
“Let me be the judge of that.”
She exhaled a breath that was half-huff, half-laugh because the comment was just so . . . male.
When he didn’t let go of her hand, she sighed and opened her eyes to stare down at their joined hands. She knew she couldn’t get out of this conversation now, and part of her didn’t want to. She liked how he held her hand. Liked the way they fit together. Liked even more the way it felt to open up to him. Even just a little.
“You’re right,” she said. “It’s not her. It’s not even knowing she could be the reason I had so much trouble when I was younger. It’s knowing the truth at all. All my life I’ve had this fantasy about my mother. It’s stupid, really. All kids have it. The fantasy that you really weren’t given up. That either your birth mom was forced to let you go or you were kidnapped or she thought you were dead. Alec and I used to talk about it, actually. Used to imagine what had happened to both of us. Except in his case, that actually came true, and in mine . . .”
“Except in yours,” Hunt said softly, continuing to stroke her palm with his thumb, “what we found today proves that your fantasy can’t be true.”
She blinked back the useless tears. “Yeah. Stupid, isn’t it?”
“No. It’s real. There’s more to the story than what’s in that book. If she’s your mother, I’m sure there’s a lot more.”
“Does it matter? The bottom line is she didn’t want me.”
“She wrote about wanting to find you after she hit it big.”
“That’s the point, Hunt. She wrote about it. But she didn’t do it. That book was published five years ago. Oregon adoption laws were eased in 2014. If she really wanted to find me, she could have. The truth is she didn’t want to find me. That was all BS for her book.”
“You don’t know that.”
She tugged back from his hand and reached for her wine. “I do know that. She didn’t want to find me, which means she didn’t really care. And that’s what’s eating at me. Not that she could be some big actress. Not that she drank and left me with the repercussions that made my life hell when I was a kid. But that at the end of the day, she just didn’t give a shit about me.”
All her old inadequacies came racing back as she drained the last of the wine in her glass. No one wants you. Your mother didn’t even want you. That was what the first text message had said, and it was true. No one but the McClanes had ever really wanted her. She’d thought that was enough in her life, but the older she got the more she realized it wasn’t. It was why she dated men she wasn’t initially interested in, why she chose the wrong kinds of men—like Julian. Why she’d gotten married when she hadn’t even loved the jerk. Because somewhere inside her troubled mind she thought if she could make someone who didn’t want her want her, then she’d finally be good enough. Only it hadn’t happened with Julian, and she had a sickening feeling it wasn’t ever going to happen with anyone else either.
She pushed back from the table, feeling worse than she had before, wishing this day—this whole fucking week—would just disappear. “Can we just go back to the hotel? I’m really tired.”
“Yeah.” He eased back in his chair and signaled the waiter.
The waiter scurried off to grab their bill, and in the silence, as she gripped her purse at her side, Kelsey stared at the tablecloth and wished she had more wine. Or that she’d just kept her mouth shut tonight.
“There’s just one thing,” Hunt said, breaking the silence.
She couldn’t muster up the strength to look at him.
“Maybe you’re right.” He leaned his forearms on the table again. “Maybe she didn’t come looking for you when she could have. But that doesn’t mean she lied. It just means she was scared. The same way you’ve been scared to look for her. Those laws made it easier for adoptees to find their birth parents in 2014 as well.”
The waiter set the bill next to his hand, and Hunt spoke quietly with the man as he reached back for his wallet, but Kelsey didn’t listen to their conversation. She was too busy digesting what he’d said.
He was right, but not in the way he thought. She hadn’t looked for her birth mother because she was scared. She purposely hadn’t searched for her because she knew the truth might prove she really never would be enough.
And knowing that didn’t just have the power to break her in a way nothing else ever had. It could destroy the shaky foundation on which she’d built her entire life.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Kelsey was silent on the walk back to the hotel.
Hunt knew she was dealing with a lot, so he didn’t push her to talk. But he wanted her to. He’d liked the way she’d turned to him outside Foster’s house and held on to him. He’d liked the way she’d opened up to him at dinner, even if it had caused her to shut down now. He wanted her to trust him again, to let him be what she needed, he just wasn’t sure how to make that happen.
As they entered the suite, he closed the door at his back, tossed the keycard on the entry table, and watched her drop her purse on the couch. She moved to the fridge to grab a water bottle. Since they’d left the balcony door cracked, jazz music from the outdoor bar’s band filtered into the room along with a cool breeze that rustled the gauzy curtains.
She tipped the water bottle back and took a long sip, the sexy line of her throat and the hourglass shape of her silhouette accentuated by the lights shining in through the windows. And not for the first time, he wondered how the hell Benedict could have ever laid a hand on her in anger.
She pushed the fridge door closed with her hip and turned for her room. “It’s been a long day. I think I’m just going to go bed.”
He knew he should let her go. He knew that was the safe choice. But tonight he didn’t want to play things safe.
He stepped in her path, blocking her door. She drew up short and frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Something I probably shouldn’t.”
She sighed, but when he reached for her hand, she didn’t pull away, and it was all the encouragement he needed. “I know you think I’m freaking out, but I’m not. I’m just tired. Really, I’m fine.”
“I know you’re fine. You always are. But that’s not why I stopped you.”
When she rolled her eyes, he lifted his hands to her cheeks, forcing her to look up at him. “You don’t always have to face everything alone. It’s okay to lean on someone else. It’s okay to be vulnerable now and then.”
Her whole body stilled, and as she stared up at him, her eyes grew damp. So damp something in his
chest turned over. “I don’t like being vulnerable. Especially in front of you.”
“You shouldn’t be. You have nothing to fear from me.”
Her pretty brown eyes slid closed, and she made that sound again that was a huff and a laugh all rolled into one and so damn cute he ached to kiss her. “Easier said than done.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re . . . you. Because I saw the kind of women you like to hang out with. And because I’ve read all the fashion magazines. Women are supposed to be mysterious and intriguing in front of the men they’re interested in, not weak an—”
Her lips snapped closed when she realized what she’d just said, and a blush stained her cheeks. A blush that heated Hunt’s blood way more than her words ever could because it was a reaction she couldn’t fake.
He brushed his thumb over her silky smooth cheek, awed by her strength and spirit all over again. “For the record, if that was the kind of woman I wanted to hang out with, I’d be with her. And call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure the authors of those articles in your fashion magazines are nothing more than twenty-year-old computer nerds who don’t know a thing about what guys really want.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and a reluctant smile toyed with the edge of her lips, urging him on. “And you are the least weak woman I’ve ever met. I don’t know many people—male or female—who could survive what you have in your life. Not just survive but triumph over. And to me, you are mysterious as hell. I never know what you’re thinking or what you’re going to say next. You’ve more than kept me on my toes these last few days.”
She snorted, but she still didn’t open her eyes, and her lips quivered when she said, “That’s because I’m borderline mental.”
“No, you’re not. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re beautiful and sexy. And when you open up to me like you did tonight, when you make yourself vulnerable, it’s not a turnoff, Kels. It’s a massive turn-on. Because it means you trust me enough to let me in.”
Slowly, she opened her eyes and blinked up at him. And when her gaze met his, it was filled with so much tenderness, his heart felt like it flipped over beneath his ribs. A reaction that didn’t just surprise him, it completely rocked his world.
“I do trust you,” she whispered. “You’re probably the only person besides my brothers I truly trus—”
He lowered his lips to hers. Couldn’t stop himself. And when she opened and drew him into the soft, wet heat of her mouth, all the reasons he wasn’t supposed to be kissing her faded from his mind.
She groaned. Wrapped her arms around his shoulders and lifted to her toes. Then pressed her body flush against his as she tipped her head and stroked his tongue with long, languid strokes. And the contact shot a shock wave of electricity through every cell in his body. One that lit him up and made him ache for more. For her hands on his bare skin, for her body laid out beneath his, for everything he’d almost had that night she’d come to him in his room.
That want was so strong, so insistent, so not what he’d planned when he’d stepped in her path tonight, it drew him back from her lips and everything he was seconds away from taking.
She breathed heavy against his chest as she dropped to her heels. But she didn’t move back, didn’t make any attempt to release him, just dug her fingertips into his sides and held on. And damn, she felt good. Too good. So fucking good she was about to shatter what little self-control he had left.
He swallowed hard. “I, uh, I like vulnerable. A lot. But I don’t want to take advantage of it.”
Her lips curled, and she shifted one hand from his ribs to his chest and laid her palm right over his heart. “You’re not.”
Holy hell. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, fighting for restraint. “I’m about to. Which is why you should probably go in your room and lock your door.”
She tipped her head back and smiled up at him, still not making any move away. And the sexy look smoldering in her eyes was so damn hot, it lit him up like a firework. “It doesn’t feel like you want me to go in my room alone.”
No, he knew it didn’t. His growing erection was already pressing into her belly.
“It feels like you want to go in there with me,” she added.
Dear God, he did want that. He wanted it so much he was about to forget every single reason he’d stayed away from her all these years. But he was deathly afraid of screwing this up again. “I don’t want you to feel pressured or regret trusting me.”
She glanced down at his chest where her hand rested over his heart, and his pulse raced as he watched a nervous look creep into her eyes. “You were right when you said I don’t let people in. I don’t. But I’m trying to fix that. And I want to start with you. You’re not pressuring me. And the only thing I may regret about this night is not taking a chance. But if you don’t want that, then I—”
His resistance snapped. Just shattered under the crushing weight of his desire. He captured her words with his lips and kissed her. Mouthed, “I want you,” against her lips again and again. And when she kissed him back just as frantically, he knew neither of them could stop what was about to happen.
He turned her toward her bedroom, continued to nip and lick and taste every part of her mouth as he stepped forward, forcing her back. Her fingers tightened against his sides, then released, and as they moved into her bedroom, her hands shifted to his chest and began working the buttons of his shirt free with swift movements.
God, she tasted good. She felt even better. He slid his hands to her shoulders, then down her sides and around her back, searching for a zipper or hook or something to free so he could get her out of this dress. “Kelsey.”
“Yes.” She drew back from his lips just long enough to unhook the last button of his shirt and tug the tails free of his pants. Then her lips were on his again, kissing him crazy as she swept her warm hands up his bare chest and pushed the shirt from his shoulders.
Just the simple skim of her fingertips over his skin was better than anything he’d imagined. He kissed her hard, then drew back a breath. “Don’t stop touching me.”
Her smile was so damn sexy, he smiled too. Lifting to her toes, she pressed her tempting lips to the corner of his mouth until he ached to taste her again, then dropped to her heels and leaned forward to trace the tip of her tongue around his left nipple. “I won’t.”
Sweet Jesus, if she kept that up, his brain was going to completely short-circuit. Sifting his fingers into her hair, he lifted her face back to his and dove into her mouth, kissing her deeply. She groaned, slid her hands down his stomach, and found the button on his waistband.
He forced her back a step until her legs hit the mattress. Kissed her deeper. Never wanted to stop kissing her. But he also wanted more. He wanted everything. His hands slid down her sides, over her hips, and grasped the fabric of her dress at her thighs. Drawing back from her swollen lips, he tugged straight up. “Lift your arms.”
She flicked the button free on his pants and lifted her arms over her head. And in one swift move he stripped her of her dress and tossed it on the floor, then stared down at her gorgeous body wrapped in nothing but a sheer lace bra, low-riding lace panties that hugged her slim hips, and a pair of perfect fuck-me black heels.
Whatever blood was left in his head shot straight into his groin. Licking his lips, he palmed her right breast and rubbed the pad of his thumb across the smooth lace covering her taut nipple. “Is this from your collection?”
She dropped her head back when he moved his thumb across the straining tip again. Reached for his hips and whispered, “Yes.”
“I like it.” He brought his other hand up, palmed her left breast, and toyed with her neglected nipple. “I like it a lot.” Tugging one cup aside, he lowered his mouth and breathed hot over her quivering skin. “But I like this more.”
He traced his tongue around her nipple, loving the way she trembled and dug her fingernails into his sides. Then he drew her into his mouth and sucked. And the groan that erupted fr
om her throat made him as hard as stone.
Wrapping his arms around her, he flicked the clasp on the back of her bra and tugged it from her body. She slid her fingers into his hair as he tormented one nipple with his tongue, then the other. With one arm supporting her around the waist, he lowered her to the mattress, then trailed his lips back up her throat to claim her mouth again in a hard, hot, incredibly wet kiss.
Breathless, he braced one hand on the mattress near her head and drew back to look down at her, just enough so he could see her eyes and make sure she was still with him.
She blinked several times. Her eyes shimmered. But in her gaze he saw nothing but lust. “Why did you stop?”
“Because I want to see you.” He glanced down her body so he could take all of her in. The swell of her breasts made his mouth water, but the scrap of lace between her legs made him completely ravenous. Pushing back on hands, he slid down her body and lowered his knees to the floor. “Spread your legs. I want to see all of you.”
She blushed but did as he said, making room for him between her thighs. And as he tugged on the sides of her panties, she pushed up on her elbows and bit her lip, watching him as he pulled the lace from her legs and took a long, slow perusal of every inch of her body.
“My God. You are absolutely stunning. Everything I envisioned and more.”
She swallowed hard, watching him as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee and slowly worked his mouth higher. “How long have you been envisioning?”
He smiled. Kissed another spot. This one higher on her inner thigh. “Way too long.”
Her muscles tensed, and her breath caught. “Recently?”
He moved his lips to her other thigh and nipped at her tender skin. “Absolutely.”
“W-when?”
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