by Bella J.
“Well, if those cuffs you used on me last night, and the flogger, dildo, and two pounds of lubricant in your side drawer are anything to go by, I’d say you’re one kinky motherfucker.” She winked at him…and Hunter wanted to strangle her.
“You went through my stuff?”
“What kind of woman do you think I am? Of course I went through your stuff. That’s like standard MO for any normal woman.”
Hunter didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or spit out a whole lot of F-bombs at her. “I’m just…I’m just going to leave before I—”
“Before you push me up against the bathroom wall?” She cocked her eyebrows suggestively at him, taunting him with her goddamn attitude.
Nope. He wasn’t going to say a damn word.
As he turned to leave the bathroom, Scarlet called after him, “How many tats you got hiding under that shirt, Ace?”
He looked down at his chest and then over his shoulder at where she stood wearing nothing but one of his button-up shirts. “Enough.”
Suddenly his mind was filled with so many dirty thoughts that involved his tats, her hands, her mouth, and that goddamn bathroom wall that he had to ball his fist in an attempt to control himself. For a moment he forgot he was actually walking in the other direction, trying to get as far away from her as possible.
When he finally managed to open his mouth to say something, she reached for the door and slammed it shut in front of his face. What the fuck?
He looked up at the ceiling. “Dear Lord, you’d better give me a whole lot of patience with this one.” He looked down, then shot his eyes back up again. “And FYI, I might just end up strangling her…or screwing her. Either way, I’m committing a sin very soon. Just wanna give you a heads-up.”
“Who are you talking to?”
He turned around and saw Scarlet leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom.
“I was talking to God.”
“God? You don’t look like the religious type.”
“I wasn’t.” He turned his back on her and walked to the living room. “Until I met your demonic ass.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
Taking a seat on the couch, he watched as she walked over to his bed and plopped herself down on the mattress.
“Hey. What do you think you’re doing?”
“I need some sleep,” she moaned, her voice all muffled up as she snuggled her face into the pillow.
“We need to talk, remember?” He got up and walked over to the bed.
“Later. I can’t keep my eyes open.”
Hunter stood next to the bed, staring at her laying on her stomach, arms pushed beneath his pillow. The way she was stretched out caused the shirt she was wearing to move up her thighs, exposing a few inches of the curve of her ass. She wasn’t kidding when she said she wasn’t wearing any panties.
For a second he allowed his gaze to slowly move from her ankles, taking in every inch of her beautifully tanned legs, all the way up to her thighs. It was probably very inappropriate of him to just stand there like a damn statue, staring at her ass, but those firm, curvy, beautifully shaped cheeks were just too damn pretty not to stare at.
She pulled her left leg up, and he noticed a tattoo high up on her right inner thigh. It looked like some sort of Chinese symbol. He had no idea what it meant, but it was hot as hell. Thank fuck he didn’t button up his pants or his dick would be hating him.
Everything about this woman just screamed sex—hot, heady, raw sex—exactly how Hunter liked to dish it out. And he really, really wanted to give this woman a huge helping of Hunter fucking Keaton—pun most definitely intended.
The smooth skin of her legs seemed like they were begging him to stroke his hands all the way up until he reached the tattoo on her inner thigh. Just the idea of touching her made his cock stand at attention, his loins on fucking fire.
“Stop looking at my ass, Ace.”
Hunter jerked up straight. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“Well, it’s kinda difficult when someone has their eyes glued to my ass.”
“Wear underwear, then.”
She flipped herself over on her back and stared up at him. “Now where would the fun be in that?”
The shirt she was wearing was only buttoned halfway and fell to the side, giving him a glimpse of the swell of her breasts. Beautiful, large, voluptuous breasts just begging to be kneaded and palmed—to be sucked. He could already taste her skin on his tongue, feel the flesh of her tits in his palm. Jesus fucking Christ.
With a light shake of his head, he peeled his gaze away from the woman who was laying half naked on his bed, tempting him in every way possible.
“Since you’re not sleeping, get your ass up so we can talk.”
With a loud sigh, she scooted up, leaning back against the headboard. “Are you always this uptight and demanding?”
He sat down on the edge of the bed. “When I’m kicking ass outside of a club, running for my life down a fire escape, and then speeding through the streets of Chicago to save the ass of someone I hardly know—then yes. I’m as uptight as fuck. And yes, I’m demanding in every aspect of my life.” He leaned a little closer. “And I mean every aspect of my life.”
There was a faint flush spreading all the way up the skin of her neck, and Hunter loved the fact that he had her flustered.
“Fine.” She crossed her legs, and immediately he had the greatest view of her thighs while she sat in front of him. There was no way he could have stopped himself from thinking about what kind of pleasure he could find between her legs. Thinking about how she handled that motorcycle, the strength she had to have in her thighs had him thinking about nothing but slippery hot sex, and multiple mind numbing orgasms. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this turned on, this jacked up to be inside a woman.
“So I’m going to give you the in-a-nutshell version of what’s going on here,” she started, then pushed her hand through her long, sleek hair. “My cousin, who is adopted by the way, is after granny’s little fortune. Okay, not little. Huge. But he’s scared shitless that little old me might take that away from him.”
Hunter narrowed his eyes, his attention now fully focused on her—and not what was between her legs. “Brent was adopted?”
“Yes. By my uncle, the same year I was born.”
Hunter rubbed his jaw. “If he was adopted, why would he be inheriting the fortune?”
She shrugged. “He’s the only living grandchild—so to speak. Granny doesn’t have any more living children to inherit her money.”
“You’re still alive though.”
“Yeah, but dear old Grandma doesn’t know that.”
A kind of sadness dropped like a veil over her, casting shadows of regret over her face. For a second he got a glimpse of the vulnerable Scarlet—the hurting Scarlet—and it somehow pricked at the stone cold heart inside his chest.
Not liking the feeling one little bit, he pulled his hands down his face and tried to focus on the problem at hand.
“Okay, but that still does not explain why he had all those men trying to kidnap you last night.”
Scarlet moved her gaze away from him and stared at the black sheets on his bed. “Let’s just say that I know something that might jeopardize him inheriting everything.”
“Explain.”
She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “There’s nothing to explain. I know his secret, and if I should tell Granny, she wouldn’t want him inheriting shit.”
Hunter shifted, moving a little closer. “What is the secret?”
“Nope.” Abruptly, she jumped off the bed. “I’m not telling you anything else.”
“If you want me to help you, you need to tell me.”
She spun around to face him, and her eyes seemed like they wanted to burn holes in his forehead. “I never asked for your help, remember?”
“No, you didn’t.” He got up and rounded the bed to stand in front of her. “But I’m here, and for some unknown
fucking reason I want to help you.” She opened her mouth, but he held up his hand. “Don’t ask me why, because I honestly don’t fucking know.”
She closed her mouth and continued to stare at him.
Without him even realizing it, he somehow managed to get dangerously close to her, staring down at her full, inviting lips, wanting to do nothing more than kiss them so hard they would be red and swollen for days. He didn’t know what it was about her. There was just something about this woman, something that seemed like it was reaching out to him—to his soul. He just couldn’t place it. But he really had this undeniable urge, this need to help her, and he had no idea why. It wasn’t like he was the kind of guy to go around helping every damsel in distress he came across. But her? He didn’t know what it was, and he didn’t even know what he was supposed to be helping her with in the first place, but something was pulling him toward her…and he didn’t like it one little bit.
“Let me help you, Scarlet.” Fuck.
For a few moments they stood there staring into each other’s eyes. He saw it. He could see her vulnerability behind all those layers of hard-ass steel and smart-mouth comebacks. There was much more to this woman than what she was allowing everyone to see. It was like he could feel her, sense her fear and her need to be free.
Her eyes softened and he thought she was actually going to let him in. But then she turned around and headed in the other direction.
“I don’t need your fucking help.”
“Goddammit, you stubborn as shit, insufferable woman.” He’d had about enough of her ungrateful, cocky fucking attitude. Without even thinking it through, he rushed forward, grabbed her around the waist, and pushed her face first into the glass of his floor-to-ceiling window.
“You really have an attitude problem, you know that?”
She placed her palms flat against the glass. The way he covered her entire body with his, the way her cheek was pressed up against the window, her warm breath fogging the glass—everything about it was so fucking erotic, he no longer thought about Brent Wolfe, Granny, or SUV fuckers. All he thought about was his anger, his frustration, how his cock was pressed against her ass. He wanted to be buried inside her right then and there—against the window with all of Chicago watching as he fucked her until dusk.
She moved her ass against him. “It seems you have a problem of your own, don’t you, Ace?”
“I can easily show you how quick my hard-on can become your problem as well.”
Her cherry scent surrounded him, her heat teasing him, taunting him, his self-control slipping little by little.
This was all so fucking insane. She wasn’t his type. He didn’t like women with big mouths who didn’t know how or when to shut up. Hunter liked his women tame, obedient, and easy to control. This woman, Scarlet, she was everything but that. She was nothing more than a fucking pain in his ass, yet his body wanted her.
Scarlet squirmed against him, and Hunter bit out a groan as the ache in his loins intensified. “Oh, I doubt it’s going to be a problem for me, Ace.”
“You’re a real fucking cock tease, aren’t you…Blanchette?”
Immediately he felt her tense against him. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” He reached up and slowly wound his fist up in her hair. “Is that another hard limit for you? Being called by your real name?”
She tried to push free, but he tightened his fist in her hair and pushed her harder against the glass. He took her chin in his hand, gripping her jaw as he brought his mouth closer to hers over her shoulder. “Not so tough now, are you, Lucy Liu?”
“Let go of me,” she bit out between clenched teeth. She was angry, she was feisty—and she was making his dick throb.
With a jerk he let go of her jaw and spun her around, keeping his fist in her hair as he let his face come within inches of hers. There was violent fire burning in her eyes as she glared at him, yet her chest was rising and falling from her labored breaths, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly parted.
“What’s the matter, Scar? You not sure if you want to kick my ass,” he leaned closer, letting his lips almost touch hers, “or ride my cock?”
She slanted her head to the side and never took her gaze off his. “If I wanted to ride your cock, I would have by now.”
Fuck, she was playing a good game. All the women Hunter had been with the last few years were too submissive to play games—too scared to play games. But this little spitfire who he currently had pinned against the window was playing, and she was fucking good at it.
He leaned down, closer to her mouth, so close he was practically kissing her. “So what you’re saying is that you’re not thinking about me being inside you right now?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” She didn’t even blink.
With a soft touch, he moved the back of his hand slowly down her arm. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
She was lying. He could see it in her eyes, the need just beaming from those beautiful irises. The flush from her cheeks had travelled down her neck, and the way she pushed her chest out just a little, pushing her breasts harder against him painted a clear picture. She wanted him—as much as he wanted her.
As he reached her wrist, he slipped his hand lower, tracing his fingers over her waist, down the outside of her thigh.
Her breath hitched, and he smiled. “You’re sure you’re not thinking about me pushing so deep inside you, hitting that spot, making your body shake with a need that will turn you fucking inside out?”
The hard-ass expression she had on her face a few seconds ago was no longer there. Instead, all he saw on her face was desire, want…need, a yearning for release. He felt it in the way her body shivered, the way she bit into her lower lip. She might not admit it, but her body was wound up tight, and knowing that she was turned on did some crazy shit to him.
She lifted her chin just a little. “That’s what I’m saying, yes.”
“You know what I think?”
“I don’t care what you think, Ace.”
“I think you’re lying.” He slipped his hand to the inside of her thigh, and slowly made his way up, feeling the softness of her skin against his fingertips. It felt even better than he imagined it would.
Gently, leisurely, his fingertips stroked up her thigh, and she closed her eyes just for a second as he came within an inch of where he really wanted to touch her. “You sure about that, Scar? You sure your body doesn’t want me?”
She didn’t answer, but there was the faintest movement of her hips, and that was the only confirmation he needed.
Taking that final inch, he traced a fingertip softly over her outer lips. She gasped and shivered, her body betraying her. When he felt how smooth and warm she was against his finger, he groaned as if in agony, and slipped his fingers through her heat, feeling how damn wet she was for him. The faintest moan escaped her, and he smiled. “I think your body is saying something entirely different right now.”
“Unfortunately for you, my body doesn’t control me.” She sounded out of breath, like she was in a struggle of her own. A battle between her body and her mind. But the evidence was there, between her legs and coating his fingers. She wanted this as much as he did.
“Maybe you should let it control you, Scar, just once.” He leaned closer and brushed his lips against her ear, inhaling, wanting more of her sweet scent. They were slowly slipping, moving past the point of no return, but he didn’t give a fuck. All he cared about at that moment was pushing this woman over the edge and watching her come undone.
Scarlet placed her hands on his shoulders, but did nothing to push him away. In fact, it felt like she was pulling him closer, wanting him harder against her. “You won’t be able to handle me, Ace.”
“You have no idea what I can and cannot handle.”
“Believe me, I’m one of those things you can’t handle.”
He pushed a finger inside her and she let out a breath while rocking her hips against his hand.
“Like I said, you don’t know what I’m capable of handling.”
He moved his finger inside her, slipping it out and back in. “We both want this. So we might as well just get it out of the way.”
“Aren’t you just the perfect Prince Charming?” Her head slanted to the side while her eyes remained closed.
“I never said I was. Besides, you and I both know the Prince Charming type bores you.”
His fingers continued to work her, building the pressure in her body until it would demand release.
“I don’t know, Ace. Maybe I like Prince Charming.” Her hips moved to the rhythm of his fingers.
“You and I both know that’s bullshit.”
Watching the pleasure plastered all over her face, her body moving in search of what it wanted, looking to satiate a hunger he had instigated while his fingers were buried deep inside her, had him close to losing it in his pants.
“I only have one rule, Scarlet.” He pushed harder, moving his finger faster while she kept on making the most beautiful sounds of pleasure.
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
He stilled, letting go of her hair and grabbing her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. And then those damn blue sapphires, looking all smoky and heady, suddenly knocked the wind right out of him. Only then did he realize she had somehow managed to make him forget all about his number two rule when it came to screwing women.
Never blue eyes. Never.
Blue eyes were a hard limit for him. Always has been. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to bend this blue-eyed woman over and make her screams hit the goddamn roof.
While contemplating for a full two seconds if he would be able to break one of his rules just once, Scarlet took him by surprise by shoving her hand down his pants and gripping his cock hard.
“Jesus.” He cursed, his eyes rolling closed as an ache of pleasure shot up his spine.
“What’s that one rule, Ace?”
She stroked up his cock, and he opened his eyes, ready to break every goddamn rule he had ever made.
But then his eye caught movement out the window. Three SUVs parked outside the apartment building, men jumping out and making their way across the street.
