“You want to sleep here?” he asked, almost in a whisper. I knew he meant only sleeping, not sex.
My voice couldn’t find the way to the surface, and I nodded.
He stood up, brushing past me, and went into his closet. He returned promptly with a pair of cotton shorts. “Here.” He threw them at me.
I actually had a pair of pajamas in my bag, locked in Stevie’s car, along with a toothbrush, but I wasn’t going to interrupt Stevie to get her keys. Plus I didn’t want to leave this room. I might come to my senses and run. For once I didn’t want logic coming into play here.
I grabbed the shorts and walked around to the opposite side of the bed. I sat, slipping off my jeans and socks, pulling up the borrowed shorts quickly. I stood, clasping them at the waistline so they didn’t drop back to the floor. They were huge on me.
“Uh?” I turned to him.
“Come here.” He chuckled, wiggling his finger for me to move to him. He sat while I strode over, stopping in front of him. He inched me between his legs, corralling me close. “There is a tie on the inside, but it’s double knotted.” He reached up, flipping the large waistband to face him. His knuckles swept along my lower abdomen, flaring my body with tingles. He tugged at the cord, bringing the shorts closer around my hips.
Standing there between his legs, his breath and fingers tickled the skin across my stomach. Every sense was on overload. The side of his hand skimmed below the band on my underwear, and I felt all my muscles tighten. I struggled to breathe properly. How could he affect me so much, but he seemed calm and at ease?
“There.” He finished knotting the string, his hands going to my hips.
“Tha-anks.” A frog croaked, dying in my throat.
“What are friends for?” He stood, his hands still on me, but dropped them the moment he was fully on his feet, moving around me.
Friends. Right.
He clicked on the lamp at his bedside, then walked over to the door, closing it and turning off the main light, dimming the room to a shadowy glow.
I crawled on the bed, plopping myself in the middle. Don’t think. Don’t think. I repeated over and over to myself. “Why is your room void of you? It holds nothing personal.”
He walked back to the bed. “Because this place isn’t home to me. It’s where I live sometimes, but it’s not my home.”
“Where is your home then?” A sudden sadness for him, the lack of family who supported and loved him, washed over me.
“Not sure I really have one,” he replied. “But I’m the most relaxed at Jones’s, Doug’s, or Krista’s.”
That girl’s name again. Who is she? What did she mean to him? I hated being jealous. It wasn’t something I dealt with much before. Hunter seemed to raise this possessive beast in me.
He sat at the end of the bed, the hum of a zipper, the swish of fabric being pulled off. I bit my lip. He stood and leaned over to turn off the lamp. The boxer-briefs type.
The room went black, and I blinked trying to adjust my vision to the darkness. A glow from the twinkle lights outside leaked through his blinds. His outline moved, pulling back the covers. The bed indented with his weight.
“Scoot over.” His voice was low as he nudged me over. He seemed so relaxed as if this was no big deal. It probably wasn’t. He undoubtedly had girls in his bed all the time. I was the one making it an issue. But I wasn’t just any girl. Like he wasn’t just any boy. And this was anything but a boy and girl sleeping in the same bed together. Innocent as it could be. It wasn’t.
I crawled to the top and slipped under the comforter, sinking into the pillow. Every move Hunter made settling in was like an injection of adrenaline to my system. He stretched his legs, bumping into mine.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, letting his head drop to the side. “Not used to sharing. Kind of a bed hog.”
“You have a king and you’re bitching about room? Mine’s a double and that’s luxury to me. I had a twin till last year.” I turned on my side, facing him. “And until we moved I had shared a room with my sister.”
“Harsh,” he teased, folding his arms under his head.
“I know, right?”
He tipped his head farther to the side to see me, the light outside reflecting off his irises. “I could learn to share.”
I gulped. Did he mean what I thought he did?
He angled his head toward the ceiling again. “Having a twin brother, you get used to sharing, or fighting, over everything. He usually won, and I was fine with it. It never bothered me…there were only a few things I knew I never could share.”
“What?”
He didn’t answer but shifted to his side facing me, laying his head on the edge of the pillow. His mouth was only an inch from mine, and his breath fanned down my neck. Oh. My. God. Thoughts in my head hit the pause button. His lips and body were too close and warm to let logic enter my mind. We both lay there, watching each other, hesitant to cross the invisible line, step over the edge and let ourselves fall. It was too dangerous and forbidden.
How silly it was to keep putting myself in situations like this and feigning innocence. I knew what I was doing. Even going against what I thought was right, I still found myself lying in bed next to Hunter Harris, wanting more.
His body beckoned me to touch it. To feel the ripple of his muscles under my fingertips, the warmth of his skin beneath his T-shirt. I balled my hands into fists, the desire overpowering my senses.
“What?” he whispered, causing my lids to flip back up. I hadn’t even realized I had shut my eyes, squeezing them like I was in pain.
“Nothing.”
“Is this too weird…or uncomfortable?”
“No.” I shook my head. Actually it was, but not for the reasons he was hinting at. “I feel safe here.”
He continued to stare at me, not embarrassed or bashful to blatantly watch me. Colton and I had a staring contest once. He lasted for ten seconds before blushing and laughing like a schoolboy. I hadn’t thought about it then, but true intimacy probably scared the bejesus out of him.
Now I was the one blushing.
He moved his knee, and his skin rubbed against mine. I swallowed, almost choking over the thickness in my throat.
He reached out one finger, tracing the tattoo on my arm, tucked under my head. He didn’t say anything but let his hands speak instead. He pressed his lips together, outlining the last feather before drifting to my cheek. My heart thumped so wildly in my chest I was sure he could hear it. His thumb padded over the cut on my chin and skimmed my bottom lip. I had the consuming need to let my tongue wrap around his thumb. Kiss me, a voice cried inside me, flooding my face with more heat.
It was like he heard me.
He tilted forward; his hand gripped the side of my face. His eyes watching me with reservation, like he was waiting for me to stop him.
I should have. This was foolish and wrong in many ways. But I knew I wouldn’t. I wanted this more than anything.
His gaze on me changed, narrowing in on my mouth, it burned with want as he pulled my face closer.
This is happening.
It felt like forever, but finally his lips touched mine. His fingers held my face still as he brushed his sensually over mine. The feel of his mouth was like someone fired a flare up my spine, halting oxygen in my lungs. He nipped my bottom lip, tugging and sucking it, slamming fire through me. I moved in closer, my leg hooking over his hip. His hand slipped up the back of my neck, gripping my hair roughly as his mouth came down on mine with ferocity. A strange noise came from me, my leg clutching him tighter, pulling him into my body, kissing him back with matching intensity. A rumble came from his chest, rolling me on my back as he moved over me, fitting perfectly between my legs.
Oh Jesus, he felt good.
Hunter’s hand glided up my side, drifting under my shirt as his kiss deepened.
Buzzzzz. His phone rattled the nightstand, making us break a part.
Seriously? Now? I hated his phone.
He
pulled back, staring at me, then at the phone. He swore under his breath and moved off me, picking up his mobile. He tapped at the screen, reading. My gaze went to the clock on the side of his bed—2:14 a.m. Who would be texting him at this time?
Sunny. The answer was quick. She was probably hoping he had gotten rid of me by now and was looking for a late-night hookup. Or was it this Krista he spoke of? Insecurity, guilt, embarrassment finally decided to show up, feeding off the silence and awkwardness between us.
Hunter grumbled and rolled to the edge of the mattress.
“What’s wrong?”
He pinched his lips in a thin line, shaking his head. “I have to go.”
“What?” I sat up.
He grabbed his jeans off the end of the bed, pulling them on.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back.” He tipped forward, snatching his shoes. He shoved his feet in his boots and laced them.
“Are you serious? It’s two in the morning.”
This wasn’t the first time he had left me, running to whoever was texting or calling him. This took me back to the numerous nights Colton and I were hanging out and Hunter would call, dragging Colton away from me. Was he a drug dealer?
“I know. I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
He stood, tugged on a hoodie, and moved toward the door, his eyebrows pinched.
“Hunter?”
He gripped the doorknob and glanced back at me, eyes softening as his eyes slipped over me. “Don’t move. I’ll be back later. I promise.” He slinked soundlessly through the door and was gone.
Flabbergasted, I sat gaping at the door. What was he doing in the middle of the night? He was secretive and cryptic about his life. Besides his close friends, I was one of the few who saw beyond his reputation, but I had been looking. Hard. And he still was a mystery to me.
I flopped back on the pillow, my hand rolling over my mouth, still feeling the sensation of his lips on mine. Holy crap. We kissed, again. But then he left. My hurt and embarrassment wanted me to get up and leave, but a stronger desire to stay here in his bed won out. Stevie would go if I asked, but I didn’t want to do that to her. She seemed to be enjoying Tarzan—possibly a little too much—right now. Another reason I did not want to look for her.
These were all excuses. All reasons to snuggle deeper into his comfy bed. My nose drifted over the sheets, smelling his scent.
Stop. Jaymerson. Now. You are only friends. Friends who kept kissing.
My mind went around and around with examples showing there was nothing between us except the bond of Colton’s death, the comfort and desperation to find someone who understood, when finally the cocoon of his blankets silenced the voices, taking me away to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
My lids blinked open; a beam of light slammed them back shut. A soft groan escaped my lips, and I rolled away from the brightness, digging my head deeper under the supple blankets. It was so comfortable it was like floating on marshmallows. I wiggled in farther, pressing against something firm. Warm. Smelling amazing. Stirring emotions and desire.
A hand slipped through the covers, landing on my hip, pulling me in. The gentle caress of his body against me, flooded memories of the night before into my head.
My eyes shot open.
Directly in front of my face was Hunter’s bare chest. The muscles along his abs moved in and out as he breathed. My gaze dipped lower. All he wore was a pair of boxer briefs. They dipped enough to see the V indentation carved into his lower torso.
The fabric did nothing to hide him.
All of him.
Oh my god.
A zing ran through me at seeing him. Again the desire to touch him was hard to ignore, but the thought of waking him stopped me.
When did he get back? How did I not wake when he crawled into bed with me? I was a light sleeper. I could hear my sister’s footsteps from down the hall coming for me the moment she stepped out of her bed. I was always ready to jump up and go if anyone needed me. But sometime in the night, Hunter crept into bed, almost naked, without my notice.
Every detail of the kiss came back, but the daylight twisted it into a tarnished dream. It rotted in my stomach as visions of Colton popped into my head, his face twisted with disgust and hurt. How could you, Jayme? My twin brother?
Hunter stirred, his fingers sliding under the shorts I was wearing and up my thigh. The punch of energy soared over my skin.
I gnashed my teeth together. Why did he invoke such exhilaration through me? Why him? It could have been anyone, a boy I met at a party or standing in line getting coffee. Why did Hunter have to be the one who could ignite the blood in my veins?
He was the one boy I shouldn’t want. The one I couldn’t have. What was wrong with me? I should be repulsed. Why did the thought of stripping off my clothes, feeling his bare skin, his body moving against mine, cause my heart to thump, ripping desire through my system?
I rolled away, sitting up.
He jerked awake, his head popping up.
“Are you okay?” His voice was husky, full of sleep. Sexy.
“Yes. Fine.” My mouth felt like cotton balls, stuffed with something that died.
He closed his eyes, laying his head back down. His face was free of conflict. Relaxed and comfortable. Gorgeous. I rubbed my head in irritation.
“When did you get home last night?” I inquired when I really wanted to ask: Did you sleep with Sunny or Krista, then crawl back into bed with me? Damn! When did I start sounding like a jealous girlfriend?
He grunted, not answering my question. His lids fluttered open again when I slipped off the bed, and he glanced over his shoulder at the clock.
“It’s only seven, Jayme.” He rubbed at his forehead.
“Go back to sleep.” My feet padded over his soft rug. “I need to head home.” After I brush the sewage out of my mouth.
“You need to go home…now?” His eyebrows curved up.
Yes, I thought. Because the longer I stay here, the more likely I’m going to do something extremely stupid. Something I won’t be able to take back.
“Soon.” I shrugged, heading into the Jack and Jill bathroom. I knew from past visits they had a ton of disposable toothbrushes in the bottom drawer for guests to use.
Guests? A voiced in me sassed. You mean an overnight visitor like Sunny or Krista?
I grabbed one, longing to dispose of the awful taste in my mouth. I brushed vigorously. My mood coiled tighter than a gnarled barbwire fence. I needed to go for a run. Kick-box. Do anything I could to forget how his body and mouth felt on mine.
Footsteps stopped at the door, and I glanced up, looking at him through the mirror. My lungs contracted. Still only in his boxer briefs, he leaned against the jamb, his arms crossed over his chest, watching me intently with a slight amused lift to his lip. His hair was in disarray and made him sexier than anyone had the right to be.
He looked nothing like any other eighteen-year-old boy at school. He had grown up fast, developing in body and mind before the rest. Even the crowd he hung out with was older. He seemed way too mature and advanced for someone like me. Everything about him frightened me. Nerves I never experienced before rocked me, shaking the foundation, especially when he looked at me so attentively.
My eyes lowered, and I moved away from the sink, throwing the toothbrush away. I could still sense his eyes on me. Hunter had the knack for staying silent. Observing. Right then I longed for Colton’s endless yammering and threadlike attention span. Hunter was intense.
Bottled energy flicked off me like sparks, and I could feel me fluttering around the space with no direct intension. “Stop.” I fingered the snarls in my hair, wrapping it up in a hasty bun.
“Stop what?”
“That.” I motioned to him. “Staring at me… making me feel…” My tongue couldn’t find the words to complete the sentence, not ones that wouldn’t insinuate something.
“Making you feel what?” He tipped his head against th
e door. He was calm and direct. His confidence made me want to get away. I went for the exit, and he stepped in my way, blocking my path. It was as though he was challenging me, daring me to confess. There was no way I would utter any of my thoughts.
“Move out of my way, please.”
“Say the magic words.”
“I said please.”
“Not the magic words.”
“Hunter.” Desperation filled my eyes. What did he want from me?
“Hey.” He grabbed my arms. “Relax. Okay? There is nothing to be upset about.”
Was he telling me the kiss meant nothing? To forget it? It was the best thing to do, but why did it sting so bad to know he didn’t think it was that big of deal?
“It’s all right.” He gazed down at me intently.
I nodded, forcing myself to exhale. He let me go and turned back for the bed.
“Don’t tell me you’re a morning person.” He strolled to the bed and flopped face-first onto it. I tried to ignore the curve of his ass.
“Kind of,” I admitted, hesitantly following him. We kissed. No big deal. Why am I so uptight about being in the same bed as him? I’d slept next to boys before. Colton and I had fallen asleep together several times. Why did this seem different? “Comes with having a little sister. Reece has yet to sleep past seven thirty.”
Hunter groaned. “I’m gonna have to beat that out of you.”
I went to my side of the bed and crawled back on. “Oh, really?”
“Yes.” He turned his head on the pillow toward me.
“I don’t think so.” A mischievous smile plucked at my face.
He lifted one eyebrow. His eyes darted to my hand as it moved. “Don’t think about it.”
I bolted to my feet, grabbing a pillow and creamed him as he reached for my ankle, yanking me back down. I yelped and laughed, the bed bouncing as I dropped down.
“You just declared war.” He grabbed his pillow, getting to his feet, bouncing. I quickly rebounded, clutched my weapon, and swung. He countered and I twisted, the cushion hitting my hip. I quickly darted to the side, jumping off the bed.
Shattered Love (Blinded Love Series Book 1) Page 22
