Pure Illusion (Web Of Deception #1)

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Pure Illusion (Web Of Deception #1) Page 22

by Michelle Watson


  He laughs, loudly and joyously. “What?”

  “I’m dead serious, Hunter. One minute your super intense and then sweet and kind and attentive the next. You’re impulsive and your temperamental mood swings confuse me and give me whiplash. What am I suppose to do when I don’t know what do?”

  His smile vanishes and he eyes me for a beat, then takes my hand and brings it to his mouth. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Isabel. But I guess that you hold on.” His pink tongue darts out to lap up the pudding from my fingers.

  Warm waves of pleasure and lust ripples throughout my body, I gasp and squeeze my legs together, trying to gain some kind of friction to relieve the tingling sensation between my legs.

  “My girl looks hungry and I need to feed her.” He grins, tilting his head to the double exit doors.

  My breath hitches because he’s not referencing to food. “I want answers.” His grin broadens, drawing my index finger into his moist mouth and sucking the pad until I close my eyes and moan, squirming in my seat. Every fiber in my being tightens. “You can’t manipulate me with sex. I’m stronger than that.”

  He pulls my wet and sticky finger from his mouth and kisses it. “Are you, though?”

  “I am,” I say with a newfound resolve as I open my eyes. “I want my phone.”

  He gingerly lays my hand on the circular table, reaching inside his jacket with the other. He slides it across the table and it thumps again my hand. “Thank you.” I immediately scroll through all the missed calls from Max. There is also a text from him:

  Max: Call me ASAP!

  Me: At lunch with Hunter. Will call right after. Promise. I have some things to come clean about.

  Max: Hunter? Seriously? What things do you have to come clean about? Are you hurt?

  Me: I’ll explain when I can. I have to go. Call you soon.

  “…I’ll try to answer them as honestly as I can,” Hunter says.

  I glance up from my phone, my brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

  “Have you heard a single word I’ve said?”

  “No.”

  His eyes dart between me and my phone, a frown curving his lips. “What are you two talking about?”

  “You should be more trusting, Hunter. I don’t have a reason to lie about anything. Just give me time and I’ll tell you everything soon. Now, what did you say? I didn’t catch it.”

  His lips press into a grim line. “I said ask me whatever you want and I’ll try to answer them as honestly as I can.”

  “What’s going on between you and Candy? Are y’all like together together?”

  “What Candy and I share is exactly what Candy and I share. That’s her story to divulge. I don’t want to get into girly drama. She’s in a tough place and I wanted to help her out.”

  “Really?” I ask, not sure what to make of it.

  “Yep.”

  “Hunter the New Age Hero?” I provoke.

  His gaze turns deadly. “Watch that mouth, your ass will thank you.”

  “Whatever,” I mutter, suppressing a smile. “Are you clean?”

  He makes a face. “I’m certainly not dirty.”

  “No, silly. I mean physically are you clean? Should there be anything I should be worried about? We didn’t use protection.”

  “As clean as clean can get. We can go get tested together if you want. We have the same doctor, Isabel.”

  My cheeks flam at the thought of Dr. Marvin testing us both for STDs. He has been my doctor since I was a child. Dr. Marvin sends me holiday cards for God’s sake. I imagine him as an uncle, though he looks more like a grandpa with wild gray hair and red circular frame glasses that always rest on the lower bridge of his nose, as if he’s always trying to get you to confess to something shameful. “Yeah, we should do that…some time later.”

  “So you trust me?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “You let me fuck you without a condom, three times, so you must trust me to some extent,” he murmurs through an arrogant smirk.

  “I need Hero’s number,” I ask, avoiding what he says entirely. I need to talk to him about Green Frog.

  He eyes me warily. “Why?”

  “It’s important,” I whisper, feeling ashamed of myself after what happened between me and Hero. I didn’t mean to hurt Hunter or Hero.

  “No,” he says simply.

  “No?”

  “No,” he states firmly, “I’m not giving you his number. Next question.”

  “Okay…Did you follow me around campus?” I don’t know why I bothered to ask for Hero’s number. I can make a much-needed trip to Cherry High to get in touch with Hero. I don’t need Hunter’s permission to do anything.

  He blinks and then rakes his hands through his messy hair. “I did. I followed you mostly everywhere you went. I had to make sure you were safe.”

  “You stalked me?” My heart feels like it’s about to beats its way through my chest.

  He lifts a brow and smiles.

  I swallow loudly and settle back into the chair. “I don’t know how I feel about that. Do you stalk me now?”

  “Not all the time,” he says, his smile widening. “I do have a life of my own, you know.”

  “I don’t want you to follow me anymore,” I declare. “It’s creepy.”

  “You never noticed before. Who told you? Harmony?”

  “No,” I lie. “Just don’t do it anymore. Why did you and Sally split?”

  He sighs, exasperated. “I was tired of the lies and deception—the girl plays more games than PlayStation. If it makes you feel any better, I was only trying to replace what I didn’t have. She was a great distraction and she used me like I used her. Sally liked what I offered and I like what I got.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

  A frown curves my lips as my brows snap together. “Why did you get engaged then?”

  He studies me for a moment before he replies, “She asked me. I was in no position to deny.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  He shrugs again, unwilling to elaborate.

  “Did you love her?”

  “I loved what she did,” he mutters as if talking to himself.

  “What did she do?” I ask, truly intrigued.

  “She wounded me,” he says in the same tone, and my heart plummets to my stomach. “She fucking ripped me apart and I taunted her to do it harder the next time…She never disappointed, Isabel. Just because my scars are not visible doesn’t mean I don’t have them. She scored me like the way I scored you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I manage to say from my tight throat.

  A puzzled expression crosses his face. “For what?”

  Reaching out, I caress his face. “That she hurt you. No matter how you treated me, you didn’t deserve that…you didn’t deserve whatever damage she did.”

  His facial features relax and get soft in a way it makes my soul ache. His large hand locks around my outreached one by the wrist and brings my palm to his mouth and kisses it before releasing me. “Why did you harm yourself?”

  My eyes roam over his left shoulder, seeing nothing but the bloody and dreadful past. “Because I wanted to feel.”

  Hunter cocks his head to the side, an inquisitive look in his eyes. “Is it that simple?”

  “Yes. The funny thing about cutting: you do it to feel. It’s something you can physically see and touch. People do it for different reasons. I did it because you took away everything I knew and it felt like the entire world was caving in on me. I didn’t get how you couldn’t need me anymore. How easily disposable I was to you. I couldn’t cope without you, Hunter.”

  I don’t realize I’m crying until he reaches out and touches my wet cheeks. “Trust me, Isabel. If I had any other option, I would’ve picked them instead. Hurting you…I didn’t want that. But the pain and the misery were necessary. I didn’t need you to jeopardize the safety I provided for you. I’d take all the pain away if I could.” His thumps swipe under
my eyes before he drops his hands.

  “Okay...Why did you cut me out of your life?”

  “To protect you.”

  My face contorts into bafflement. “To protect me?”

  “Yes.” His reaction is aloof and controlled as he gauges mine.

  “From what?” I ask in disbelief.

  His jaw muscles twitch. “I can’t say.”

  “You can’t say or you won’t say?”

  He avoids the answer all together by staying silent.

  “You know, Hunter, truth is not the same as silence. Why can’t you just tell me? What’s the big deal? I don’t understand.”

  “That’s just it: you don’t understand.” His beautiful features twist into a hard mask of frustration and fury. “You don’t understand anything that’s going on. Do you know how fucking long I had to endure this bullshit? Do you even care now?”

  “Of course I care, Hunter,” I assure softly, reaching out to touch his fisted hand over the table. “I’m just confused about everything. I care for you. I love you, Hunter. I love you so much.” Most of the irritation leaks from his body as my thumb moves back and forward across his the skin of knuckles. “We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to. Okay?”

  “No. You have questions, so ask away,” he replies dryly.

  “You sure?”

  “Don’t give me a chance to rethink this, Isabel.” He sounds like he’s talking about something else entirely…like us.

  Forcing myself to swallow past the huge lump in my throat, I nod. “Why did you come back after all these years?”

  He stares down at the plastic pudding cup with far-off expression. “I was at the funeral and I saw you. That connection or lifeline we have never went away. I knew you were hurting and scared and feeling alone. I had to be there for you. I swear it wasn’t a choice.” His eyes take on a glossy and unfocused look. “It wasn’t even an obligation. It is a pure essential need that I am there for you. You are my responsibility. You were always my responsibility from the very beginning, Isabel. You’re mine.”

  My fingernails dig into the table as my lips part and eyes widen. “Hunter.”

  “But my possessions are always tarnished,” he resumes talking like I didn’t interrupt, “I didn’t just one day decide I had enough of you and I wanted you and me to be over. I didn’t wake up and want you suddenly out of my life. It was so fucking hard, Isabel. So fucking hard…the hardest decision I’ve ever made. But one I’m glad I did.” His haunted eyes flicker up to me and steal every wisp of oxygen from my burning lungs. “You were torn away from me and I’m the one who ripped the seams apart. It’s something that I have to live with for the rest of my life. I’m willing to live with that as long as I can guarantee your safety. I’ve failed at so many things, Isabel. You’re my only triumph.”

  I don’t care who’s around or listening anymore because I burst into to tears.

  Chapter thirty-five

  Sweet Isabel

  Hunter and I stumble our way to his bed, leaving a trail of disregarded clothes and shoes. His muscular body forces mine down on the mattress. My breath quickens as Hunter looms over me, dressed in only his boxers. His dark eyes slowly run down the length of my naked body. I feel myself flush, but I bravely hold his steely gaze. Something in the atmosphere shifts and changes between us; it’s as evident as predator and prey, male and female, strong and weak. Vulnerability exudes from me while power emits from him.

  Instinctively, I sit up and cross my arms over my bare chest. His eyes narrow in a disproving way. “You like it rough, Isabel?”

  I turn my head, staring at the white drapes.

  I’m startled when Hunter speaks. “Answer me!”

  “Yes,” I whisper almost too low to hear.

  “Look at me, baby,” he orders in a softer tone.

  My eyes hesitantly lift to his. “Yes, I like it rough, Hunter.”

  A slow and sexy smile plays on his lips. “Rough is how you’re going to get then.”

  My breath hitches. “Are you going to tie me up?”

  His index finger runs the length of my arm, causing me to shiver. “I don’t think my baby is ready for that.” I’m oddly a little disappointed.

  “I like it soft and gentle too.”

  “Is that right?” he whispers, grinning down at me.

  “Yes.”

  Can this be any more embarrassing?

  “I’ll see what I can do then.” He cocks his head to the side, intently gazing at me. “How sore are you?”

  I stretch and most of my joints protests and there is also a distinct ache between my legs, but now I can’t differentiate if it’s from sex or from longing. “Sore.”

  “Too sore to play?”

  My eyes fall to the floor, face flaming. “I would be very much appreciative if you would take it easy on me,” I whisper, feeling my entire body immensely heat under his gaze.

  His hand grasps my chin, tilting my head so I can stare him directly in the eyes. “We don’t have to do this, Isabel. I can tell that you’re afraid of me. It hurts but I can deal. I know you don’t completely trust me yet—you are absolutely right to do so—but maybe with time I can earn what I discarded long ago. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect the world from you. I love you, Isabel.”

  My arms dropped from my breasts to my sides as I close my eyes shut and savor his words.

  “I love you, Isabel.”

  I feel his knuckles skim down my cheek as his other hand weaves through my hair. My eyes flutter open to Hunter’s soft baby blue eyes on mine. “I love you, too.” I lie back against the mattress and spread my legs to him, for him. It takes him no time to settle between them but not inside me yet. “I can never say no to you.”

  He smiles down at me, all pure and all genuine. “I better take care of you then.”

  I press kisses all over his face and neck, not caring where or how desperate I am for him, I just want to savor and relish in this moment. I kiss everything I can: his eyebrows, nose, lips, cheeks, ears, chin, and long his jaw and neck. I am greedy and impatient and I’m too happy to be concerned about it. Wrapping all four of my limps around him, I crush him to me, never wanting to let him go.

  “Baby,” he breathes, running his hands down my body.

  “I never want to let you go,” I confess, tears spilling down the sides of my face and into my hairline. “I want to wrap you inside of my heart where you can stay forever and ever. I want to hold you there for-ever. I love you so much.”

  “There is no place I’d rather be, Isabel. Keep me there, in your heart, and never let me go no matter what, okay?” He commands, kissing my tears away.

  “I will never let you go,” I reply.

  “Promise me, baby. No matter what happens or what I do, promise to never ever let me go…even when I’m unworthy and you want to,” he orders solemnly.

  “I promise, Hunter,” I vow, teary-eyes.

  “Good girl,” he praises, kissing and sucking his way down my neck. His hands sift my hair, cupping the back of my head and holding my face against his. “My beautiful, sweet Isabel. How I love to love her.”

  My body turns into liquid underneath his as I close my eyes.

  He kisses both eyelids. “You are the only one who has ever counted.”

  Moaning, I tilt my hips up. My wet and aching sex is pressed into his hardness, but Hunter doesn’t enter me.

  “You mean everything to me,” he whispers, bringing my hands to his mouth and kissing each of my fingers. He shoves his face in my neck and inhales deeply.

  “Just fuck me already,” I beg.

  I feel him smile against my neck. “My baby needs me. I should get busy.”

  I cross my ankles around his waist. “Yeah, you should.”

  ***

  Hunter does “get busy.” He gives it to me soft and gentle and fast and rough. I loved all the ways I get to have him but it’s much more than that…I love him. That means I love any way and every way he decides to giv
e it to me.

  After we come countless times, I lay my head to his chest, marveling at the sound of his heart. He reaches out and tags a black handheld flat device from his stand. “What is that?” I ask as it powers on.

  “A Kindle. I have over four hundred books on here.”

  “Really? Let me see.” He holds it out to me and I snatch away, smiling impishly. I am way too interested in what kind of literature Hunter Knight reads. I swiftly scroll through the books, surprised at what I find. There are a lot of fantasy and mystery and thriller books, less love stories but there are a few sappy romance novels and even a lot more darker versions of sappy romance novels, when I say darker I mean depressing. Then there are very kinky S and m novels.

  “That’s my favorite as of now,” he murmurs pointing at a black cover with crushed waffle cones bits, candy sprinkles, and blood smeared across it.

  It’s just tilted, “Sweet?”

  He nods, staring down at the Kindle in my hands. “It’s about this man named Lenny who never craved for anyone or anything. He owned and worked at a little ice cream shop in the French quarters of New Orleans. He had features of a handsome gentleman but he was anything but. He didn’t date or charm women. He didn’t find them useful—not even for sex. He jerked off almost every night thinking about the only girl he ever cared for. Her name was Sweet. She died in a hit-and-run when she and Lenny were nine. It happened right in front of Lenny’s house and he was watching from the comfort of his living room window the entire time. Lenny did eventually go to Sweet and get aid for her.

  “She took her last breath and died, staring right into Lenny’s eyes. He blamed himself, because maybe if he went to get help sooner she would probably still be alive. He lived every single day with the guilt and shame of it all, lived that horrid scene of Sweet getting hit by that red truck every night, never truly moving forward. Twenty-five years later he opens up a yellow painted ice cream shop and names it Sweet in honor of her.

 

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