by Leesa Bow
I swallowed as a blush warmed my cheeks. Water droplets fell from the porch roof and dripped onto Hunter’s freshly groomed hair. I opened the screen door. ‘You’d better come in.’
He followed me through the small lounge to the kitchen and immediately his presence filled the entire space. ‘Hunter, this is my mother, Helen. Mum, Hunter Stone.’
Hunter put out his hand and shook Mum’s smaller one. ‘It’s lovely to finally meet you, Mrs Taylor.’
Mum placed her hand on her heart. Hunter’s presence affected everyone. ‘Oh, please call me Helen. We’re just eating breakfast. Can I cook you anything?’
‘No thanks. I’ve already eaten two meals. One in Melbourne and another on the plane, but I’d kill for some vegemite on toast.’ He flashed his perfect smile at Mum and she went coy. I rolled my eyes, yet I was acutely aware of my own heart and wanted to put my hand on my chest to stop it from jumping out of my ribcage.
‘I’m putting on the kettle,’ I managed in a croaky voice. ‘Can I get you a cuppa?’
‘Tea, white with one, please.’ He removed his leather jacket and draped it across the opposite chair. My gaze was drawn instantly to the black T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and chest. I bit my lip and assessed him out of the corner of my eye while he focused his attention on answering Mum’s questions. He looked so calm, at ease in my home.
I sat next to him and he moved, his powerful arm brushing mine, and the electricity spiked between us despite my arm being sleeved in a windcheater. He looked at me and said something about the game. I didn’t hear a word, caught up as I was in those eyes, and his stare was . . . oh my God, he was looking straight through me. Mum answered his question about another player and something that had happened on the field after he’d left the ground, injured.
‘Well, I need to head to the shops,’ Mum said. She grabbed her keys and was out the front door faster than a superhero.
Hunter reached into his pocket and pulled out the tube of gel. ‘I guess it’s time.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘A single bed?’ Hunter looked incredulous when he walked into my room.
‘It’s a king single, actually. If you’re going to —’
‘I didn’t mean to sound judgemental,’ he interrupted. ‘I just—whatever. It’s not important.’
Even before showing him my room, the notion of him dropping his pants in front of me had my stomach cartwheeling. It’s not like I hadn’t seen a naked guy before. My time in England backpacking had acquainted me with friends who acted carefree and walked around the apartment naked, but this was Hunter Stone with a body like a Greek god.
‘Do you want me to wait in the hallway?’ I asked, unsure of what to do.
‘You’re kidding me, right?’ Hunter tilted his head at me. ‘Do I scare you that much?’
I took a deep breath. ‘You make me nervous.’
One side of his mouth curled up. ‘Good. But I only want a rub. I’m actually in pain.’
When I heard the sound of his zip I used all my willpower not to look . . . for all of two seconds. My stomach clenched at seeing his tight butt in blue Calvin Klein underwear. When he turned back and caught me staring, my cheeks warmed. He grinned. ‘Are you finding me hard to resist, Aubree?’
‘No. It’s going to take a lot more than this,’ I shot back.
He chuckled then climbed onto my bed and spread out on his stomach. ‘You’re going to have to straddle me.’
‘I know what to do. I’ve had a rubdown before.’ I climbed over him and lowered myself, trying to keep my thoughts neutral. ‘Okay, where?’
He reached back and pointed to a spot below his butt. I squeezed a small blob of gel onto his leg and rubbed in circles, slowly working my fingers deep into his hamstring. The sensation of feeling taut muscle beneath my hands stirred something inside me. Thankfully he remained prone, unable to see my satisfied expression. Years ago, during basketball tournaments, there were times when one of the guys needed a massage and us girls would eagerly help out, although it had never led to anything. You didn’t cross the line, but you could look. At this moment there was no line and being so close to Hunter I found myself wanting more than just a look.
Focus.
I inhaled and closed my eyes, pushing my fingers deeper into the muscle and working out knots.
His body jerked beneath me. ‘Fuck! Can you ease up a bit?’
I laughed. ‘Not so tough now, big guy?’
He lifted his head. ‘So you’ve heard about my reputation?’ I smacked his side and he laughed. His head fell into the pillows. ‘Seriously, I’m really in a lot of pain, Aubree.’
I worked the area just as hard. When his butt tightened I chuckled, then he groaned and my self-control weakened. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of images flashing through my mind of lying beneath a naked Hunter. Then I must have hit the bullseye because he yelled, ‘Jesus!’ into the pillow.
‘Am I making you nervous?’ I asked in a sarcastic tone.
His fists clenched above the pillow. ‘Fucking hilarious.’
A sense of power filled me having Hunter beneath me, reacting to my touch, even in pain. My hands moved higher and my thumbs pushed into the muscles at the base of his rear, and then under the elastic of his underwear. I closed my eyes, imagining his anatomy, while working his glutes.
Another moan escaped his throat and my eyes opened. My tummy fluttered; if I continued, it might lead to something I might not be ready for.
‘That should do it.’ I went to climb off, but in one quick motion he flipped onto his back, grabbed my wrists and held me on his hips. The firm length of him pulsed beneath my thigh. Blood rushed to my face.
Hunter’s lips curled into a devilish grin. ‘Come here,’ he murmured. I hesitated. ‘I only want to kiss you.’
I wiggled my hips, aware he wanted more than just a kiss. ‘Do that again and I won’t be responsible for my actions,’ he growled, and grabbed my shoulders, pulling me down towards him.
His lips tasted delicious, warm with salty vegemite lingering. A number of emotions swept through me, but this time I didn’t hesitate. I kissed him back, allowing the need inside to guide me. He sucked harder and pushed his tongue into my mouth. One of his hands clasped the back of my neck, slowly massaging near my hairline. His other hand massaged my lower back. Hunter released his clasp from my neck and moved so both hands slipped under the elastic of my track pants to squeeze and knead my butt. I groaned and Hunter reacted by pushing his hips into mine.
Something snapped inside me and I pulled away. I wanted him and the enormity of it terrified the life out of me. I straightened my back by pressing my hands against his chest.
His forehead crinkled. ‘Did I do something wrong?’
‘I’m not going to sleep with you,’ I said gently.
‘I know.’ His expression softened. ‘But I find it hard to control myself when I’m with you. When you say stop I will. But you can’t blame me for trying.’
‘Okay,’ I paused. ‘So I’m in control?’
He nodded. It was my ‘get out of jail free’ card. Free to show him my rawness without fear of being trapped and forced into the awkward zone.
His eyes met mine, emotion burning within them. He licked his lips, his gaze lowering to mine. A large hand tightened around my neck and he guided me towards his mouth, picking up the intensity where we left off.
‘Where’s Hunter?’ Mum placed her shopping bags on the kitchen bench.
I glanced up from watching Pretty Woman on the television, pulled from imagining it was Hunter and I in the bath together. My mind had drifted throughout the movie, dissecting why he was here. I failed to find a legitimate answer for why Hunter Stone—sex on legs—preferred the company of a girl who denied him getting any, especially when he had a long list of loyal female fans happy to put out. Yet here he was.
‘Asleep on my bed,’ I told Mum.
‘Asleep? For how long?’
I straightened my le
gs on the lounge and stretched my arms over my head. ‘Almost an hour. He’s tired after playing and being up early this morning.’ I failed to mention we’d spent a good hour making out on my bed before Hunter had fallen asleep curled up next to me. He even failed to wake after I’d manoeuvred myself out from under his arm. Although I was comfortable lying next to him admiring his perfect face, being there equated to playing with matches so I removed myself before the spark had flamed.
‘I bought extra in case he stays for dinner.’
‘Mum,’ I moaned. ‘I don’t know what he wants to do. Don’t make a fuss of him.’
‘Why don’t you change out of your old trackie dacks, dear? Put on something pretty. He might take you out some place nice.’
‘I don’t want to go out with him. And there’s nothing wrong with my trackies.’ I rolled my eyes.
‘Besides being two sizes too big? I’ll side with your mum on this one.’
I sat up at the sound of Hunter’s deep voice. Seeing his large frame leaning against the door, his thick arms tucked across his chest, only compacted our already tiny living room. He took my breath away. There was something dangerous in the way he looked at me with his fringe swooped to the side covering one eye.
‘But I’m not sure how to react after hearing you’re not eager to dress up or go out with me. You’re killing my confidence.’
‘You’ll live.’
‘Aubree,’ Mum scolded.
‘Oh please, he’s not fragile.’
‘Maybe, but there’s no need for rudeness.’
Hunter laughed and sat next to me on the lounge. ‘I like your mum.’
‘Oh, don’t get me started.’ I shot him my best attempt at looking annoyed that he and Mum had sided together. His leg rested against mine and I could feel his body heat penetrating my track pants. I glanced down at his denim-clad leg, remembering how good he looked without any clothes.
‘Would you like to stay for dinner, Hunter?’ Mum asked in her sweetest voice.
‘You don’t have to,’ I whispered.
‘I’d love to if it’s not too much trouble.’ And that threw me. Hunter wanting to eat dinner with us didn’t make sense. Shouldn’t he be out at a nightclub pounding his chest with his mates and rallying up hot girls?
‘Of course not.’ Mum smiled and went about pulling pots and pans from the cupboard. Since it was mid-afternoon she intended on making a fuss.
Hunter snared the remote from my fingers and flicked onto a football game. ‘Sorry, I haven’t heard the results of other games. Can’t believe I haven’t watched any footy today.’ He pulled out his phone and scrolled through match results.
‘You watch the football and I’ll help Mum,’ I said, relieved to put some space between us.
As soon as I stood, Hunter spread his body across the lounge. I stared, taken aback by his behaviour considering it was his first time in my home. Astoundingly, the mediocrity and size of our home didn’t bother him either. Despite how comfortable we were with each other today, I couldn’t completely let down my guard, reminding myself about Sabrina.
This was normal for me. I liked peace and quiet, and after being away for so long, spending time with Mum. But it didn’t seem normal for Hunter. His socialite status was far from normal.
In the kitchen I peeled potatoes and continued to stare at him, taking in his beautiful face. Hunter’s side view was striking with his pouty lips and prominent cheekbones. Long black lashes framed his blue eyes. His dark hair was messy at the back and his fringe swept his forehead in a delicious way. He turned and winked, as though he sensed my staring.
Still arrogant.
Mum walked over and stood beside me. ‘Go sit with him,’ she whispered. ‘I’m fine here.’
I plonked myself on the lounge and spun my legs across his lap. ‘Perhaps you could return the favour,’ I said low enough for only Hunter to hear, ‘and rub my calves.’
Hunter gave me a heated look. ‘And look where that got us before. Do you think it’s wise?’
I rolled my eyes. He pushed the leg of my trackies up over my knees and I quietly thanked God that I’d shaved my legs that morning. He idly massaged the side of my shins while watching football on the television.
‘Who do you think will win?’ I asked.
‘The team that’s up by thirty points.’ He chuckled.
‘Well, I wasn’t sure.’
His eyes left the television and darted to my leg. My breath hitched when I vaguely felt his finger run over the scar on my knee. His eyes followed his finger as he traced the outline. Slowly, his gaze lifted and his eyes met mine, hinting at uncertainty.
‘I can hardly feel a thing. The nerves are still affected.’ My voice was matter-of-fact.
Hunter nodded. ‘How did you do it?’
I breathed in. No one had asked me that in a long time. ‘Playing basketball.’ Hunter’s lips thinned in to a straight line. I shrugged. ‘It just happened.’
Hunter shook his head and turned back to the television, deadpan. Was he testing me?
‘It was three years ago during my last year at school,’ I continued. When he turned, his face had softened. ‘I was playing in a national tournament. We were undefeated and I was having a blinder of a game against the Victorians. I remember jumping for a rebound and when I landed, my knee twisted and hyperextended. I also had an opposing player’s knee clash with mine before I fell to the ground. I didn’t get up.’ I swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump growing in my throat.
‘And you couldn’t play again?’
‘Maybe . . . with lots of rehab, but my surgeon doubted I’d get back to an elite level, not how I want to play.’
‘What damage did you do?’
‘I tore the ACL, lateral and medial ligament off the bone. Some meniscus damage as well.’ I didn’t have to explain medical terminology to Hunter. Football players were educated on anatomy, especially of the knee, since ligament injuries were common in his sport. ‘I completed several months of rehab and worked part-time to save some money to travel. I had to get away so I quit my therapy.’
‘How much did you save for two years away?’ Hunter asked. It didn’t take a lot to work out I wouldn’t have saved enough to support me for two years overseas.
‘My father left me a trust for when I turned eighteen. It was supposed to be for university.’ A pot clanged on the stove. I blinked slowly, acknowledging it still hurt Mum that I’d wasted the money instead of using it for its intended purpose.
‘You spent all of it overseas?’ Hunter sounded surprised.
‘I worked as well,’ I said in a soft voice, aware Mum could hear the conversation. ‘After America I used England as a base and worked, then toured Europe for a few months. Went back to London and worked, toured some more. You get the picture.’
Hunter nodded. He turned, looked into the kitchen then back at me. ‘How did your mum cope while you were gone?’
His concern for Mum startled me and it unleashed a bubble of guilt I’d held inside. I wiped a tear from my cheek. I had run away to escape reality, believing the universe had dealt me the worst hand of cards. Until recently it hadn’t occurred to me how it affected my mother. I swung my legs off Hunter and almost ran to the bathroom.
Damn him.
I leaned over the basin and splashed water on my face, told myself the attraction between us was only physical. Somehow he’d managed to peel away the layers and reach my sensitivity, the very part I shielded from the world. Why can’t he just be the egotistical guy I find so easy to dislike?
My back stiffened when two hands touched my hips.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,’ Hunter said in a quiet voice.
I straightened, grabbed a towel and wiped water from my face. ‘I’m fine.’
I went to sidestep Hunter but he grabbed my waist and his sheer strength stopped me.
‘Don’t push me away,’ he warned, before pulling me into his marble chest, wrapping strong arms around me.
Hunter’s body cloaked me like a protective armour. I pressed my face into his chest and screwed up my eyes to stop the tears. ‘Thank you for telling me,’ he said gently.
Hunter had the football world at his feet. He had it all yet I’d lost my father and my dream of a basketball career, smashing all my plans of a future in the sport I loved. How could he fully understand what I’d been through?
He kissed the top of my head. ‘My father left Mum for someone else when I was twelve. I know the pain of waking up every day to a nightmare.’
Something moved inside me at the realisation that he was trusting me to share this.
‘Did you blame yourself?’
‘No.’ He laughed mockingly. ‘He was an idiot.’
I nodded. ‘Well, I better help Mum. I don’t want her to worry.’ I stepped around him. I couldn’t do this now with him.
When I entered the kitchen, Mum walked over to me and touched my arm.
‘I’m okay,’ I whispered. ‘I’m just sorry I left you.’
‘You never left me, Aubree. You were always coming home.’ She kissed my cheek and handed me the dinner plates to place on the table.
Hunter gave Mum and me a minute before joining us. Mum insisted she had everything under control and encouraged me to sit with Hunter in the lounge. Sitting beside Hunter energy thrummed through me without even touching him. When the game on the television finished Mum called us to the table.
‘Sit,’ Mum said, and dished up pork stuffed with apple and cranberries and vegetables garnished with an aioli and dill sauce.
‘Wow, this is generous of you, Helen,’ Hunter said in appreciation.
Mum beamed. ‘I enjoy cooking. Aubree will, too, one day.’ Hunter laughed.
‘I can cook,’ I admonished. ‘Just not as creatively as Mum.’
‘I could show you a thing or two,’ he whispered, and I froze, pretty sure he wasn’t talking about cooking.
Mum went to bed and left Hunter and me to watch a movie.
I remained puzzled over why he was still hanging around. He sat next to me on the couch, one arm draped across my shoulders, dangling awfully close to my breast. He played with his phone in his other hand. It buzzed and he silenced it. The same thing happened three times and each time he cursed under his breath.
