Bright bursts of light went off behind his closed lids.
Her body was like a hot coal burning the length of his spine and he could feel her breath on his skin, almost as fast as his. Her thumb circled then stroked over the head of his cock and he couldn’t stop the groan that escaped him. “Ah…fuck…Ellie…”
She didn’t say anything, her hand moving on him, harder, faster. Making everything fall away. Making everything narrow down to this point of contact. Her hand on him. Holding him. Driving him insane.
It didn’t take long. He’d been on the edge already and now her touch took him over it.
The climax was intense, brutal, wrenching him apart, and afterwards it was all he could do to remain upright, let alone speak. Ellie didn’t move, remaining behind him, her arms still tight around him. And suddenly it was too much, the physical sensations crashing around inside him, the emotions blinding him. With as much gentleness as he could, he pulled her away from him. Then stalked into the bathroom before she could speak.
The door shut conclusively behind Hunter, and Ellie, her throat tight, stood in the middle of his bedroom not quite sure what to do next. She wanted desperately to go after him. Talk to him. Ask him what it meant that he’d let her touch him. Because she was quite sure it meant something. When she’d put her arms around him his whole body had gone rigid, tension humming in him like electricity through power lines, and perhaps she should have let him go at that point. But she hadn’t been able to.
After he’d left the office, she decided that she wasn’t going to let him walk out on her anymore. Not after he promised he wouldn’t. Not without at least a proper explanation for why. So she’d followed him upstairs only to be confronted by the expanse of his naked back and the wings inked on it.
Her heart had grown so large, tightening in her chest, the need to touch him filling her up, displacing all the air in her lungs so she could hardly breathe. The sight of his tattoo had always touched something in her, and with the afterglow of the orgasm he’d given her still whispering over her skin, she hadn’t been able to resist the pull.
She’d thought a hug would be okay. A hug the way she’d used to hug him years ago. But that hug had turned into something else. The feel of his body, the hard expanse of his stomach beneath her palms. The sheer heat of him…
And he’d let her. More than let her, he’d grabbed her hand and pushed it down on him. He’d let her give him what he so clearly needed. What he so clearly wanted.
Why did he keep denying it? Denying them? And why was touch so damn problematic for him?
She heard the shower go on and took a step toward the door, wanting to confront him.
But stopped. What if he’d told her it hadn’t meant a thing? That he got handjobs from other women all the time and this was merely one more?
Cold seeped through her. No, she couldn’t stand the thought of that. She wanted it to mean something to him because it sure as hell meant something to her. But what if he denied it?
Ellie swallowed, the cold inching deeper, burrowing beneath her skin. God, what had possessed her to confess those things to him? To tell him she’d fantasised about him even when she’d been with Cam? That she’d touched herself while thinking about him.
She’d revealed so much and all he’d given her back were blank walls. Closed doors.
Despite what they’d done together, he was still as much of an unknown quantity to her as he’d ever been.
Her jaw tight, Ellie turned and left him to his shower.
Chapter Seven
Hunter cursed as he ended the conversation he’d been having with Laura, the inappropriate blonde date he’d decided to take to his brother’s wedding. Or rather, the date he now couldn’t take to his brother’s wedding because she’d now informed him she was going out of town on some kind of family business.
“You look pissed.” Vin put down his Skilsaw and shoved the protective goggles he’d been wearing back up on his head. “What’s up?”
Hunter put his phone back into the back pocket of his jeans. “Laura, the date I was going to bring to Justin’s wedding, can’t make it.” He swore again. “Shit, I’m going to have to go out tonight and see if I can find someone else.”
“A bar pick-up?”
Hunter lifted a shoulder. He didn’t give a shit who it was as long as he had someone. “Anyone will do. Especially anyone who could potentially piss Dad off.”
“Uh huh.” Vin didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. He knew all about what had gone down in Hunter’s family all those years ago. Hunter had talked to him about it, but only once, the night he’d gone to his father about the affair with Liz. The night his father had dismissed him as a dirty liar. The night Liz had told him that all he’d been to her was a distraction. A bit of fun. An ego boost. Why would she fall for a seventeen-year-old boy?
The night he’d found out how badly he’d been manipulated. Used.
Vin looked down at the length of wood he’d been in the process of trimming, pulled a pencil out of his tool belt and made a mark on it. “You really need someone to go with you?”
No, he didn’t. Not really. But having a date made a good excuse to leave if things got…difficult. And considering Liz would be there, things were bound to get difficult because she could never leave the past where it should stay. Dead and buried.
“I don’t. But you know how it is with Liz.”
Vin gave him a look. “Still?”
Hunter met Vin’s gaze without flinching. “Still.”
His father’s wife may have dumped the seventeen-year-old boy she’d once manipulated, but that hadn’t stopped her from making advances on the thirty-three-year-old man. Part of the reason Hunter never visited his family if he could help it. When Liz was told “no” she got vindictive and made things unpleasant. Hunter didn’t care about a bit of unpleasantness—Christ, he could be unpleasant right back—but not at a wedding. His relationship with his brother was fraught, but he didn’t want old family history to disrupt the guy’s wedding, or make Amy, his bride-to-be, unhappy.
“Man, that woman is fucking unbelievable,” Vin muttered. “You’d think she would have given up by now.”
“She’s angry and bitter and insecure. She needs to prove herself somehow.”
“Please tell me you’re not defending her, mate.”
“Fuck no.” Hunter gave a short laugh. “I’m not seventeen anymore.”
“Thank Christ for that.” Vin looked down at the wood, made another mark. “So I guess turning up by yourself isn’t ideal.”
“Not really. There’s Amy and her family to consider too.”
Vin didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he suggested quietly, “Why don’t you ask Ellie?”
A stillness gathered inside Hunter.
He looked away from his friend, unable to meet the other man’s gaze, so what had been in his mind for two whole days now wouldn’t show on his face.
Ellie’s body against his back. Ellie’s hand on his cock. A touch he hadn’t allowed any woman for years. The blinding pleasure of it. And the desperate, relentless ache for more.
“Not a good idea,” he said. “I don’t want to drag her into it.”
“You won’t be dragging her into anything. Liz will behave herself if you have someone with you. And hey, get Ellie to wear her Docs and ripped tights and she can handle pissing your Dad off too.”
Or her Dark Shadow costume, unzipped…
“No,” Hunter said, almost roughly. “I don’t want her anywhere near my fucked-up family.”
Vin frowned at him. “Something’s going down between you two, I can feel it. What’s the deal?”
The deal was that Ellie Fox had touched him and now it was all he could think about. He’d never thought of himself as being lonely. Never thought the past sixteen years without touch had been a problem. Screwed up to shit, yeah, but not a problem. Until she’d put her hand on him and made him understand how much he’d been missing it.
Hunter steeled himself and met Vin’s sharp blue gaze. “There’s no problem.”
He hated to lie but he simply had no other choice. He’d been seventeen when he’d begged Liz to run away with him, thinking himself in love with her. Thinking all her touches and admiration and the things she let him do to her meant she loved him too. But then he’d found out he’d only been a glorified sex toy for a lonely, vindictive woman whose husband had been neglecting her. That he’d been used.
Afterwards he’d felt so dirty. Tainted in a way he couldn’t tell anyone else about because what teenage guy would be unhappy about a hot, thirty-eight-year-old woman coming on to him?
But he’d trusted Vin enough to tell him. And Vin had accepted it silently. Then asked if Hunter could look after Ellie for the night. A declaration of trust in return. Hunter, who’d been used and manipulated. Who’d felt dirty and broken, was somehow still good enough to look after Vin’s precious little sister.
Hunter had never forgotten that trust. And he’d never thought he’d abuse it either. Not until Ellie had changed the rules on him and he’d found himself wanting what he shouldn’t.
The whole situation was such a goddamned mess. Not only had he crossed the line with Ellie, he’d put at risk his relationship with Vin. The guy who’d stood by him through some pretty shitty times.
Anger twisted in his gut, and he had to fight not to let it show.
Vin’s frown had deepened. “Well, something’s up. Ellie’s been pissy with me for the past couple of days and she won’t tell me why.”
Hunter bent and picked up the nail gun he’d prepped earlier. Nothing like ramming nails into wood when he was feeling like this. “You’re not the only one. She’s been pissy with me too.” He didn’t add that, of course, he knew the reason for the pissyness. “Perhaps it’s leaving nerves.”
“Could be. Why don’t you have a chat to her and see what’s up, huh?”
“Me?” Oh Jesus, that’s the last thing he wanted to do. Sit down and have a heart-to-heart with Ellie. He’d been quite happy avoiding her the past couple of days, and yes, he knew avoidance wasn’t the way to deal with it, but shit, even being in the same room with her was difficult, let alone sitting down and having a bloody conversation. He wanted her too much, that was the problem. She’d put a crack in the dam and now the water was flooding out, unstoppable, uncontrollable, overwhelming. He couldn’t be near her when he felt like that, he couldn’t.
“Yeah, you.” Vin put his pencil back in his tool belt. “You’ve always been good with her, Hunt. She never tells me a damn thing.”
“Have you even tried asking her?”
Something flickered through Vin’s gaze. Something that Hunter was sure looked like guilt. “A couple of times. But she tells me she’s fine and to piss off with the questions.”
“Did you ask what’s wrong or did you demand an explanation?” Vin tended to be demanding when he wanted something. A method that didn’t often work with Ellie.
Vin muttered a curse. “Hey, I wanted to know.”
“So more Hitler and less Dalai Lama.”
The other man scowled. “Ellie’s my sister. I need to know what’s going on with her.”
“Yeah, but she’s also not an out-of-line apprentice.”
“Which is where you come in, buddy.” Vin hefted the Skilsaw. “You can talk to her about it at the wedding. Chicks love weddings.”
There was, of course, no way out of this. Any more protesting and Vin would assume something was up between the two of them.
Hunter’s grip on the nail gun tightened, though he tried to keep his posture loose and casual. “I’m not an out-of-line apprentice either.”
“I know.” Vin gave him a look. “But I don’t like to see her unhappy. And I know she is. A wedding might cheer her up and give you a chance to see what’s going on with her.”
“Justin’s wedding? With my fucking family?”
“Hey, there’ll be free champagne, right? Give her a couple of those. She’ll be fine.”
“You suggesting I get her drunk?”
His friend grinned. “It’s not a suggestion, it’s a tip.” Then the grin faded. “Please, Hunt. I don’t want her leaving for Tokyo upset. Or at least not knowing what the matter is.”
Shit, now he really had no choice. Vin never said please. Not ever. “Can I record this for posterity? I don’t think you’ve ever said the P-word to me before.”
But Vin didn’t smile. “Take her, Hunter.”
Pity the connotations that instantly leapt to mind with that particular phrase were not at all the ones he should be thinking of. “Yeah, okay,” Hunter said. And he meant the wedding.
Of course he meant the wedding.
Ellie bent over the stove and sampled the pasta sauce simmering in the pan. Needed a touch more…something. Picking up the bottle of red wine she’d opened ten minutes earlier, she poured a liberal amount into the sauce, gave it a quick stir then tasted again. Yep, better.
She wasn’t renowned for her cooking skills, but she could make a mean pasta sauce when the occasion demanded it. And the occasion demanded it now.
Tonight she was cooking Hunter dinner, and he was bloody well going to sit down in the same room with her and eat it.
For two days now he’d been avoiding her and this time, she’d let him. She felt too exposed, too vulnerable. And she was afraid of his denial. Afraid he’d act as if all those fevered confessions of hers meant nothing. Maybe it was a pathetic response, but there it was.
And the worst part about it was that she had no one to blame for it but herself. She’d been the one to change their relationship. Take it where perhaps it should never have gone.
Ellie’s throat closed. She tried to forget the feel of Hunter in her hand, the heat of him. The hoarse sound of his voice. The scent of his skin as she’d pressed her face against his spine. Sweat, musk and spice.
Had it really been wrong to want that? It hadn’t felt wrong. No, nothing had felt more right to her in all her life than holding him in her arms. As if she’d been the one sheltering him instead of the other way around.
Clearly though, she’d been the only one who’d felt the rightness because he’d ripped himself out of her arms and walked away.
Her hand on the wooden spoon tightened and not from anger. From fear. But shit, she wasn’t going to be a coward, not like she had been up in his bedroom. She’d started down this path and she hadn’t come to the end of it yet. Tonight she was going to give him the dinner she’d cooked and get some answers from him. Talk about this thing between them once and for all.
God, sometimes it felt like that was what she’d been doing her whole life. Chasing people for attention. Chasing Hunter. It was depressing. Finally she’d gotten him to see her as a woman who wanted him, and yet for some reason he’d pulled away again and sure enough she’d followed. Like a good little girl. Like a good little dog.
She let out a breath. Yeah, that’s what she was. A lapdog running after her master, begging to be petted. How pathetic.
A sound alerted her. A footfall.
She tensed but didn’t turn. “I’m cooking dinner.”
A brief silence.
“I figured that’s why you were standing at the stove.” His voice sounded neutral. Steady.
Ellie waited a beat then said, “Are you going to continue avoiding me? Or do you think we could actually be in the same room for once?”
He didn’t say anything to this but she heard the scrape of a chair being pulled out. “Vin mentioned you were pissy with him today,” he said in a conversational tone. “He wanted me to find out why.”
Ellie turned, mentally bracing herself for the impact his physical presence had on her.
But naturally enough that didn’t help. It never bloody did.
Hunter sat casually on one of the kitchen chairs, knees s
pread in that lazy, dominant posture that always made her catch her breath. He had one elbow resting on the table, his other hand on one powerful thigh. Judging by the fact he was in clean denim and a white T-shirt, he’d obviously gone upstairs to shower and change after arriving home. And she hadn’t heard him come in, too busy brooding over her pasta sauce.
She folded her arms over her breasts to hide her body’s instinctive reaction to him. And then his dark eyes met hers and her heartbeat rocketed. Crap. When would this ever end? Would she feel like this every single time she looked at him? Twenty years from now? Thirty?
If so, she wasn’t going to be able to bear it.
“He can’t ask me himself?” She tried to sound cool and uncaring, but it came out sounding petulant.
“Apparently you told him to piss off.”
“That would be right. I don’t particularly want to talk to him.”
He tilted his head. “Why not?”
Bugger it. He was doing the laidback, friend thing he always did when Vin’s directness got her back up. Usually it meant Vin was worried about her and hadn’t been able to get any answers out of her. Back when she’d been a teenager, she’d preferred talking to Hunter. His soft approach had always worked with her.
But not today. Today she hated it.
“Don’t do that,” she said. “This is the last time I’m going to say this: I will not go back to being Vin’s little sister with you, Hunter. Not anymore.”
He didn’t reply for a long moment, watching her. Christ, if he told her she’d always be Vin’s little sister with him so help her, she was going to hit him.
But he didn’t. “It’s me you’re pissed with, I know. But don’t take it out on Vin. What’s happening with us has got nothing to do with him.”
Ellie widened her eyes in exaggerated shock. “Oh my God. ‘Us’? There’s an ‘us’ now? You’re not going into your usual denial thing?”
Something dark gleamed in his eyes. “No.”
The simple word seemed to sink down into the space between them like a stone into still water, casting out ripples. And she became aware of the distance he was from her. Of the pressure of his gaze. Of his stillness. And it wasn’t the stillness of a man waiting for something to happen. It was the stillness of a predator before it pounced.
Taking Him (Lies We Tell) Page 9
