The Hunter (Orion the Hunter)

by J. D. Chase

  “Argh!” I said with a smile. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Name it,” Angel said sincerely.

  “Make me another yummy cocktail, please?” I asked, giving her my best puppy dog eyes.

  She laughed and rolled her eyes before she went off to make me my third cocktail that I just knew I would regret drinking when the morning came. However, my disturbed sleep and emotional phantom rollercoaster were taking their toll and I just wanted to relax and fall into a drink induced slumber.

  Angel returned with a small cocktail for her and a large one for me. Just as we clinked glasses, there came a determined knock on the door. I thought it was odd because we hadn’t had a call from James, to inform us that we had a visitor.

  I opened the door cautiously to find a very irritated Chad outside. “What’s happened to Angel?” he asked nervously.

  I stepped back to let him in. “Nothing, she is fine. She said you weren‘t coming over tonight.”

  “No, she isn’t fine. She has ignored all of my calls and texts!” he said, sounding wounded. “She’s never done that, even when she was ill.”

  “I think it is my fault,” I said soothingly, rubbing his back. “She has been helping me all evening.”

  “Helping you?” he sounded amazed. “What with?”

  “Oh nothing,” I said carefully. “Just work stuff. Go on through, she’s in there - I will grab you a beer.”

  I stayed in the kitchen to organize some food as we had missed dinner. Thankfully, Angel had picked up a tray of sushi earlier in the day and I grabbed it from the fridge gratefully.

  Carrying it through to the lounge, I set it down on the coffee table. “Nice one,” said Chad, tucking in immediately. “You know, Issy, you can find out a lot of information about someone just a quick Google search,” he said innocently, as Angel shot him daggers.

  “Oh god, what have you told him?” I buried my head in my hands, appetite forgotten.

  “Just that you want to find out more about who owns your office building,” Angel said quickly. “What else is there to tell?”

  I lifted my head and considered Chad’s idea. Worth a shot, I thought. I carried an assortment of sushi and my large cocktail into my bedroom and fired up my laptop.

  I entered Lucas Hunter into the search bar and pressed enter. Within seconds, the screen was full of search results. Popping a slice of California roll into my mouth, I began to sift through the results. After a while, I realized that every entry related to business matters. Nothing about the man himself - just the mention of his name.

  I finished up my sushi and was just draining my cocktail glass when Angel popped her head around the door. “How’s it going?” she asked eagerly. “Don’t worry; Chad has gone for a shower.”

  “I have found loads of search results but they just concern his business interests. He has his fingers in lots of pies - particularly in the construction industry. He runs Hunter Enterprises and he does indeed, own the Orion building,” I informed her. “But there is nothing about the man himself.”

  “What about photographs?” she demanded. “I need to see what he looks like. I need to see why he has affected you so much.”

  “We need to see whether he is the man that we think he is!” I laughed. “But there are not photographs of him on here at all.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, leaning over my laptop. “Here, click to search images.”

  Almost immediately, the screen was filled with little thumbnail images of lots of different men. I scrolled down and Angel spotted a scantily clad model with a heavenly body, glistening in oil, his hands. “That’s not him, is it?” she squeaked.

  “No, I can’t speak for his body - it was covered up …” I broke off because I suddenly knew, with total conviction, that his body was at least as good as the one that Angel was openly ogling on the screen. My mouth was suddenly dry and I had to swallow several times before I could continue speaking. “He was even better looking than him, he was all man. That is a mere boy by comparison.”

  “Hmmm,” said Angel, twirling her hair around her finger. “I just don’t get it. Why would someone with his looks and wealth not be out there in the public eye with a beautiful girl on his arm?”

  “I have no idea but I think it may have something to do with his social skills,” I murmured, as I continued to scroll through the images that ranged from drop dead gorgeous to some really weird looking individuals.

  “What do you mean?” Angel asked, cocking her head on to one side.

  “Well, when I ran in to him on Sunday evening, he didn’t speak.” I began.

  “You didn’t either!” she teased. “You said you just stood there drooling at him”

  “Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that,” I said indignantly. “But he is a multimillionaire who owns the whole building. He should have felt much more relaxed about bumping in to me on his own turf than I did, bumping in to him. He snapped angrily when I ran into him - that‘s hardly the crime of the century. Then he disappeared without a word.”

  “Unless your beauty stunned him too,” she said sagely. “You could easily have rendered him speechless. Remember what you were wearing!”

  I tutted and rolled my eyes. “Why would he vanish like that? And where did he go?”

  “Back up his ivory tower?” Angel giggled but then stopped suddenly. “I know; his secret elevator must have been nearby.”

  I thought about it for a second. It would explain how he disappeared without a trace so quickly.

  “I wonder why he was in the elevator with me yesterday. Clark was insistent that he never, ever uses it,” I pondered.

  “To see you?” she suggested dreamily. “Perhaps he truly was mesmerized by you.”

  “Oh per-lease,” I said, rolling my eyes. “For one thing, how did he know I was going to be in the elevator? He must have been in there before me, standing behind the group of people. Do you think he spent all morning, riding the elevator - just in case I stepped in? That’s not mesmerized … that’s mental!”

  Angel was twisting her hair furiously. “Who knows? Don’t forget that I have seen what happens when guys are mesmerized by you. It is tragic to watch them throwing themselves at you, to watch them seeking just a moment of your attention only to see you chew them up and spit them out!”

  I froze, appalled at her words. “I do not chew men up and spit them out! Just because I enjoy sex but don’t want a relationship ... men do it all the time. Why shouldn‘t I? You make me sound like a whore!”

  “I did not say that you were a whore!” she cried, color appearing in her cheeks. “And I agree, why shouldn’t you? But in reality, it is more unusual for a woman to have a strict policy of one night stands only. And yes, you are upfront about it with them beforehand, but I don’t think they believe it for a second. And when you go through with it, it drives them wild. I think that they all want to be the one to change your mind. That‘s when they come after you like heat seeking missiles isn‘t it. Showering you with flowers, jewelry and romantic proclamations.”

  “More fool them then,” I said sullenly. I felt stung by her words.

  Angel wrapped her arms around me gently. “I am not criticizing you. You are free to live your life any way you please.”

  “Yes, I am,” I said, mollified. “Although, for someone to send me flowers before I have slept with them … that’s a first!”

  We giggled. “I wonder if Mr Hunter sends all young, single ladies in the building flowers,” Angel said suddenly.

  I thought for a moment. “How would he know which ones were single? And, if it were a regular occurrence, Clark would have known who sent my flowers then, wouldn’t he?”

  “I guess,” she said she pulled back, clapping her hands together. “He owns the building, right. So I’m sure he could access the paperwork for your lease. I am willing to bet that your marital status is declared!”

  “That doesn’t necessarily mean that I not in a relationship though, does -” I broke
off as comprehension dawned.

  “What?” demanded Angel.

  “They took a copy of my birth certificate for identity checking purposes. That must be how he knows my full name,” I said, slowly. “He must have checked my file, presumably after we met on Sunday. Is that creepy?”

  Angel tilted her head. “Not necessarily. He may just have been curious. You are new in his building - why shouldn’t he want to know your name. And anyway, look how determined you were to find out his name.”

  “Only after he sent me flowers,” I shot back, defensively. “I wonder why he sent me flowers and didn’t sign his name.”

  “Perhaps he likes playing the part of a mysterious stranger,” Angel said, trying to suppress a smile. “Perhaps he likes role play. Perhaps -”

  “Perhaps you’ve had too much to drink!” I said, shaking my head.

  Angel huffed indignantly and then giggled. “What are you going to do now?” she asked. “Are you going to thank him for the flowers?”

  “I don’t know. Probably nothing,” I said, stifling a yawn. “We don’t even know for sure that it was him, remember.”

  “Oh, I think we do,” she said, nodding her head. “I just can’t figure out why he didn’t sign the card. Why go to the trouble of sending someone flowers and not saying who they are from?”

  “Maybe he thought that I would guess from his clue about my secret celebration in the elevator,” I replied.

  “So you think that he does want you to figure out who sent them,” Angel said. “What will you do next time you see him?”

  I sighed, “I doubt that I will see him if he is as elusive as Clark says.” And even as the words left my mouth, I found myself wishing that they weren’t true. I was still considering this when I got into bed a little later.

  “I want to be inside you,” that deep sexy voice rasped in my ear as we descended in the elevator. My legs turned to jelly and I fell back against him, willing him to touch me. I felt his hand slide up my outer thigh and his other hand grip my hip, pinning me to him. My insides clenched deliciously as I felt the heat build between my legs. His roving hand moved around the front of my thigh and I arched my back, pushing my behind into him. I moaned softly as his hand found its target.

  His hand released my hip and lashed out, hitting the emergency stop button and the elevator came to a sudden halt. His forward movement pressed his rock hard erection into me and I tried to turn around, to hasten the inevitable. Once again, his hand clamped on my hip, preventing me from turning around. Before I could express my frustration, his other hand pushed my panties aside and he stroked the soft fleshy folds.

  “I love that you are so wet, so ready for me,” he growled against my neck and my panting breaths became as quick as my thudding heartbeat. His teeth gently grazed and nipped my earlobe as his thumb began to massage my clitoris … round and round in circles. His mouth began to plant soft kisses down the side of my neck. His actions are so controlled, so gentle - totally at odds to the raging inferno of desire that was coursing through my body. Catching me off guard, he suddenly slid one finger inside me and I clenched it firmly.

  “Arghhh,” I gasped and began to rock my hips but the fingers of his other hand dug into my hip, stilling me instantly. I felt him slide another finger inside me and he began to move them around in tantalizingly slow circles. The feeling was exquisite and suddenly I felt the pressure building rapidly inside me. Don’t fight it, come on baby,” he ordered as his tongue traced the shell of my ear. My orgasm was so unexpectedly fast that it shook my body to the core as I came around those skilled fingers. I moaned loudly as I sank back against him, my eyes screwed shut as I absorbed the final aftershocks that wracked my body.

  I turned and prepared to look into those blue eyes before I claimed his mouth with my own. I turned and my face sank into my pillow. The stark realization that I was alone, in my bed, was startling. What the hell? That was one realistic dream. I turned to look at the alarm clock and felt the telltale wetness between my legs. Oh my god. I have just come in my sleep! Damn that man!

  Chapter 4

  I was kept very busy over the next few weeks, overseeing my design plans for Norman & Wilde. I was delighted with the results - the two rooms looked even better than I had hoped. I had waited until it was almost the end of the day so that I could take photographs of them for my portfolio when the staff left for the day.

  I exited the elevator on the 15 floor and looked around the reception lobby. The highly polished white crystal quartz floor tiles looked amazing. The deep walnut reception desk contrasted starkly with the floor - an effect that had been specifically requested by Mr Wilde.

  I chatted with the bubbly receptionist before settling down on one of the chestnut brown Italian leather sofas to admire the view afforded by the new, floor to ceiling window. I was stood staring intently out of the window, looking at the city that was now my home, when the receptionist called to say that she was leaving. She also in formed me that the meeting in the conference room was running over. When she departed with a smile and a cheery wave, I set about photographing the area. I was no photographer but Angel had assured me that her digital camera was all set up and that I just needed to point and shoot.

  I took my time, trying to take several shots of each part of the room from different angles. I had just slipped off my heels and stepped up on to one of the sofa in an attempt to gain a different perspective of the huge reception desk, when I heard the door to the conference room open, followed by Mr Wilde‘s voice. I looked down quickly, wondering whether to scramble off the sofa when I heard him say my name. I froze when I heard a deep voice say simply, “We’ve met.” I felt the camera fall from my hand and heard it land safely on the sofa below.

  I was saved from further embarrassment by Mr Wilde’s phone ringing. He apologized before saying that he must take the call in his office. He strode off calling over his shoulder “Goodbye, Mr Hunter.”

  My brain pounced on those words. Oh my god! He is Lucas Hunter! I felt my heart pounding and willed myself to take a deep breath. Why did I act like this in his presence? Nobody had ever had this effect on me. I was often the one to have this effect on men, for god’s sake.

  A movement caught my downcast eyes and, as they refocused, I realized that he was holding out his hand, presumably to help me down from the sofa. “I can manage,” I croaked but then found to my horror, that my hand betrayed me and was clasping his. What the … As I stepped down, my knees betrayed me too and I sprawled forward into a hard, muscular chest. I knew it! I knew that his body would be perfection too! My face was resting on his chest, as was my left hand. In fact, most of my body was firmly pressed against his. My right hand was still clasping his left hand. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest but I could hear … Oh my god! I could hear his heart hammering in his chest too!

  The realization that I might be affecting him as much as he was affecting me was a catalyst for the rest of my body. I felt my nipples stiffen against his toned abdominals and I heard a small gasp escape him, I felt heat pooling between my thighs and my lips parted involuntarily. His gasp galvanized my body into action. I slowly slid my left hand up and over his well defined pectoral and over his black shirt collar to his neck. I heard his breath hiss between closed teeth and felt a further response press into my hip. Well at least I now knew that that part of his anatomy was as impressive as the rest. I caressed his neck with my fingertips and raised my head to look at him.

  His eyes were screwed shut and his face was slightly contorted, as if he was in pain. I jolted at the sight and his eyes flew open. The midnight blue quickly darkened as his gaze hardened and he looked furious for a second. Then miraculously, his face quickly smoothed out to an impassioned expression. He quickly released his grip on my hand and stepped back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and then turned on his heel and left.

  I sank down on to the sofa, totally confused. What the hell just happened? Why did he look in pain when his body was so clearly enjo
ying our embrace? Why did he look angry when he caught me looking at him? Why was he sorry? And why did I feel so bereft when he broke our contact?

  I couldn’t think of a reasonable answer to any the questions that my mind threw at me. When my heart rate returned to normal, I stood and slipped on my heels. I bent and picked up Angel’s camera, just as Mr Wilde came out of his office. He saw me and smiled warmly. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Did you get everything you needed?”

  “Huh? Um, no,” I mumbled before shaking my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts. Be professional Issy! He means the photographs! “I, uh, I didn’t know whether the conference room was free so I haven’t photographed it yet.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, it is free now. Mr Hunter and I had finished our meeting so be my guest,” he smiled, kindly.