“Well, one late August afternoon a woman strolls into the shop in a loose white sundress and he froze when he laid eyes on her. She had the same green eyes as Sweet and the same long, thick hair as her. She even had the same exact smile as Sweet. Lenny remembered her face to perfection and she fit it to a T. But could it really be her? After all those years could Sweet really be alive? When the woman smiled at him it seemed heaven’s doors opened for him. She looked at him across from the glass barrier of the rows of ice creams and asked, ‘Why Sweet?’ He swallowed and released a small and strained, ‘What?’ ‘Why did you name your store Sweet?’ the woman repeated. He smiled back and told her that nothing is sweeter than ice cream. The end.”
“What? You’re lying,” I whisper, pinching the skin of his ribs.
“Yeah, I am,” he laughs, grinning down at me.
“How does it really end?”
“Sure you want to know?” he teases.
“Yes. Hunter.” I give him a harsher pinch but it doesn’t affect him.
“Okay…Well he finds out that the woman that looked unerringly like his beloved Sweet was not. Her name was Summer. She visited the shop every Sunday. They, in a way, became friends. He asked her out once and she denied him. She told him she was happily married to a husband she truly loved. Summer became his new obsession. But in a long story short, Lenny kills Summer’s husband and holds her captive in his basement for months.
“He rapes Summer numerous times and sees a pummeled and bloody nine-year-old Sweet bleeding out into the street each and every time he does it. In the end he becomes more delusional and blames Summer for Sweet constantly haunting him and kills her with a hatchet. He chops her limb from limb and puts pieces of her into the red cherry sauce for the ice cream he serves to his devoted customers. There are four more victims, each time younger, and each time he kills them and serves them to the blissfully brainless people, who keep coming back for more. He’d been in misery for so long that he wanted other people to actually taste it too…But they never did. They told him his cherry sauce was sweeter and better over the years. It was all over for Lenny when he adducted a nine-year-old girl who looked just like Sweet. She was anything but, though. He confesses to everything he has done: all the killing and such. One day she somehow undoes the restraints and creeps from his basement and kills him with his own hatchet in his bed. She finds peace within his death and grows up to be a contract killer.”
“Oh my God, that was intense and depressing as hell. There isn’t even a happy ending.”
“But there is,” he whispers, delicately tracing my eyebrow with is index finger. “The girl that escapes falls in love with her first target. They go on to have a happy and full life…until her husband wants to open a yellow ice cream shop.”
I scrunch my face up. “I don’t like that story very much. Who would write something so dark and twisted? When you were telling me about it, I couldn’t breathe. I felt trapped like someone was suffocating me, like I was slowly wilting away.”
“Maybe those feeling isn’t such a bad thing to feel from time to time. You made it out the other end okay to me,” he says softly, his finger moving down the bridge of my nose.
“Only because your arm is wrapped around me,” I mutter. “Who wrote it? They have to really be fucked in the head.”
There are several beats before he answers, “Me.”
I feel my lips part and my eyes widen in shock. “What?”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “I self-publish all of my work. I have a huge following that love my novels almost more than I do. You should read them when you get the chance, because you are my biggest inspiration.”
“Am I Sweet?”
He smiles a smile so lethal it stops my heart. “You are everything, my sweet.”
I gasp and scoot away but he curls a hand around my bicep and drags me over the mattress and back to his side. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna chop you up into little pieces and mix you in with ice cream if that’s what you’re thinking.” He laughs cheerily and buries his nose in my hair.
“I would never think that. Don’t be silly, Hunter,” I assure breathlessly. “It’s just a lot to take in…that’s all. You wouldn’t own an ice cream shop, anyway. You’re more of a bakery kind of man.”
He shuts his eyes and tosses his head back, laughing so hard my body shakes with him. “You should have ran when you had the chance. I am never going to let you go now.” Though he’s laughing, I sense that Hunter is one hundred percent serious.
“I’m going to keep you to that.”
Hunter reads me more of his work as my hands explore his magnificent body. He is truly a talented author. I can vividly imagine everything he says. He’s brilliant and terrifying but beautiful all in the same.
“I love you,” I blurt out, interrupting him midsentence.
“Love you more.” He gives me a closed-mouth smile and presses his fingers to my lips and then caresses my face.
“Show me how much more,” I whisper seductively, and I watch as his gaze darkens.
Hunter lays his Kindle on the stand and moves between my legs. His finger slips into me, causing my back to arch off the bed. “You are always wet, Isabel. You never disappoint.” He finger disappears as he makes his way down my stomach. I gasp and jolt up when his hot mouth is on me. He presses a demanding hand on my belly and harshly shoves me back down. He licks me savagely, intentionally missing my clit. My fingers thread into his silken hair as I tug.
“Hunter,” I mew.
“Right here, baby.”
“Baby,” I moan. “I need you.”
He growls, then his tongue dips inside of me and his fingers pinch my bundle of nerves, instantly paralyzing me. My eyes screw shut and I explode inside his mouth. Hunter plants wet kisses on my stomach as he crawls up.
“I love the taste of you,” he says, sliding his nose down mine.
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned it before,” I pant, breathlessly. I roll him—and he is reluctant—on his back. “My turn.” But as I begin my descent down his chiseled body, Hunter reaches down, tangling his fingers in my hair. He presses my face into his hard abs, smothering me with his scorching skin. “No, baby.”
“But I want to.”
“I don’t want you to,” he replies quietly.
My hand moves down to grip the colossal hardness of him. He sucks in a sharp breath. “Why not? You’re beautiful down there, Hunter.”
He looks conflicted but it’s only momentarily. “I said no, Isabel.”
“But—”
“Isabel, get your ass up here. Now.”
Bending my head, I kiss his abs and his chest as I move up his body. His muscles tense and then relax underneath my lips. Staring into his eyes is so much of a contradiction right now. They are soft but somehow hard and cold with an endless depth of mystery I can’t begin to unravel. I don’t know what I triggered for him to get upset with me.
Leaning forward, I press my lips to his, not to kiss him but to talk and feel them against mine as I do so. “What have I done now?”
I watch in utter awe as his eyes go soft. “Nothing.” He captures my bottom lips in his mouth and nips it with his teeth, soothing the sting caressing lick of his tongue.
My breath catches in my throat and squirm on top of him. He only releases my lip, chuckling darkly. Hunter tucks my head under his chin as his fingertips trail up and down my spine. “Sleep now, my sweet.”
Listening to the magical lullaby of his heart, it takes me no time at all to fall under the spell of his command.
Chapter thirty-six
World Of Reverie
I wake with a sudden jolt and with my throat constricted, gasping and choking for air.
Just a dream.
I’m not drowning.
It was just a horrible nightmare.
At first glance I notice that I’m alone in his massive bed, soft moonlight beaming through the wide windows. Sitting up, I rub my eyes and swing my legs from the bed. I pick up Hun
ter’s wrinkled T-shirt off the ground and slip it on, wandering down the corridor and staircase to find him but I freeze on the last step, heartbeat deafening in my ears. Within the soft glow of the kitchen, Hunter and Sally talk quietly among themselves. Hunter is reclined against the sink countertop with his thick arms crossed at his bare chest, though he has jeans on. Sally is wears a stylish black cocktail dress and dainty black heel that I’m sure coast more than my entire wardrobe put together. Her shiny blond hair is loose, silky straight and flows elegantly down her back. Sally’s neck and ears are dripping with diamonds. She is sheer grace and elegance.
As I inch closer her sweet but musky perfume wafts from the kitchen and clouds me in a light mist that’s very intoxicating to the senses.
God, she even smells expensive.
Sally stands a foot away from Hunter, smiling evilly. Attempting to decrease my heart rate, I press up against the wall and listen.
“…you haven’t returned any of my phone calls. I had to check in on you myself,” Sally purrs.
“I want you out of my fucking house,” Hunter growls.
“That’s no way to treat your fiancée, is it?”
“Ex,” he corrects.
She smirks and moves closer running a manicured fingernail down the skin of his neck, leaving a deep red mark in its wake. He growls again, gripping her wrist. He squeezes it when she strains to reach for him. Her wrist appears so fragile in his solid grasp.
“Touch me again and I’ll break your fucking wrist.” He isn’t joking either. Hunter’s face is as serious as a heart attack. He is definitely not in the mood to be toyed with.
To my surprise, Sally actually moans and licks her lips. “Promise? You should check to see how wet I am right now.”
He makes a disgusted face, releasing her as if her wrist caught fire. “Are you going to put me in the hospital again, Hunt?” She moves closer, prowling like a seductive feline that’s about to rip the man I love to shreds. “What will be my excuse this time, huh? I fell down the stairs? I tripped? Whatever the reason, I’m sure it’ll work just like all the other times. Isn’t that right, honey?”
What?
Did he beat her?
His arms uncross and his head drops. It’s as if his entire body goes lax for the brutal punishment Sally is about to unleash. Hunter blankly stares at his bare feet, breathing in deeply as Sally advances. It looks like defeat and she is ready to attack; it hurts my heart to witness. When she reaches out to put her filthy paws on him, I step into view like a wild and untamed animal ready to defend what’s mine.
“Don’t fucking touch him!”
She jumps, startled momentarily and then grins as I make my way to Hunter, gladly stepping between the two. “Don’t you ever fucking touch him. I’ll fucking kill you.” I’m astounded at the weight of my words…and the honesty behind them. I’m so blinded with fury that I’m sure I can follow through.
I’m stunned when Hunter’s fingers swiftly threads in my hair, yanking me toward the floor. “Kneel and be quiet, Isabel.”
The strangest thing happens: my knees actually bend until I catch myself. Following his commands is just as natural as breathing, but I don’t want to look weak in front of The Bitch. “No way!”
He growls, tugging my hair from its roots. “Kneel! NOW!”
With a sudden surge of pain, my knees hit the tile floor. Unaware by rage before, I now notice a male kneeling, poised by the opposite side of the wall. He has on a simple dark jacket and jeans. His skin is a flawless dark brown and his eyes are a deep shade of chocolate. His features are very handsome. His body is athletic with a lanky kind of gracefulness. I immediately want to smack him clean across the face, though. Although I am one third African American, I still feel that this is wrong on so many levels.
What is he?
Her submissive?
Her slave?
Can’t he understand how taboo this really is?
Being a part of the African American and Mexican American community means a great deal to me. I feel like he and I share an unknown bond just because we are ethnic. Enraged, I narrow my eyes at him but he simply shrugs as if reading my mind. He glances at Hunter, silently saying I’m no better.
My cheeks heat because he is absolutely correct. I lower my gaze to a fixed spot on the floor, breathing heavily.
Why should I care who people get their kinks from anyway.
“She has such a mouth on her, Hunt. You should teach her proper manners,” Sally suggests, her heels clicking my way. The tip of her sleek-looking shoe glides underneath the hem of Hunter’s shirt. “Is she bare under your shirt? I can show you how to punish her correctly.” I jerk forward from Hunter’s grip to try to bite her leg as she attempts to lift the shirt up.
“Still yourself, Isabel,” Hunter warns quietly, wrenching my head back in place.
Sally giggles. “So feisty. I bet she’s a wonder to mold. The lively ones are always a challenge, but Chance there…,” she points at the beautiful, poised male by the wall, “is my finest. I adore him so much. It’s been five years strong for us. He brings me great pleasure.”
Five years?
She was with him while engaged with Hunter?
While she was with Hunter?
“Leave her alone, Sally.”
At his harsh tone, she removes her shoe. “You’re no fun anymore, Hunt. You’ve gone tremendously soft on me. She’s changing you into a domestic role model. Where’s my feral beast, honey? Does he still live?”
“Shut your damn mouth you stupid whore,” I snarl.
Hunter’s hand twists cruelly into my hair, forcing my head down and face into my lap. I grunt uncomfortably from the feel of my stomach pressing in on itself. “I said quiet. Do not test my patience, Isabel.”
Tear spring to my eyes. My face is sticking to the thick material of his shirt from the rivulets running down my cheeks. I’m only shedding tears because Hunter is humiliating me when I’m trying to stand up and defend him.
“Hmm. Does your mother know she stays with you?”
“It’s none of your fucking business,” he mutters, easing some of the pressure off my head.
“Oh, but it is, especially if she doesn’t know. How am I supposed to take care of you if you’re keeping secrets from me?”
“Sally,” he cautions in menacing voice. “What you fail to understand is that I don’t need your care. What I do, in fact need, is for you to stay the hell away from me, away from Isabel. Do not intervene in my life. I promise you I am capable of getting by on my own.”
She’s silent for a long moment that feels like years. “Does she know, Hunt?”
“Sally—”
“No, Hunter. You love her yet you tell her nothing. You leave her in the dark to suffer. And it seems that she has suffered long enough by the scars on her arms.” She gingerly strokes my hair before Hunter growls viciously. “Well suffer no more pretty, Isabel. Are you interested in why Hunter left me all on my own?”
Hunter’s hand twitches in my hair. I don’t respond when she lowers her voice to barely a whisper and leans further down so that her lips are at my hair. “Hunter will make such a lovely father. You would understand completely if you saw him with children. He loves them all to pieces. You should have seen Hunter when I told him I was with child. His face—God, it was like seeing the sun for the very first time. You also should have seen him when I told him I aborted it. That happened three times and each time the devastation grew worse for poor Hunter, each time he would drop to his knees and beg me to keep it. He would promise me the world, sweet thing. But can you imagine Hunter’s spawn growing inside of me?” Sally pauses and makes a gagging noise. “No thank you. I don’t need a demon baby. He is clearly too erratically unstable to do much of anything—the man is great fuck though. He would probably kill us all in the end, anyway.”
My heart ices over and I feel like I’m about to vomit as she stands and smoothes her dress.
Three aborted babies?
&nb
sp; Hunter’s babies.
“Hmm. I wonder will she stay after she finds out the truth about you, Hunt. What do you think?”
“Get the fuck out.” His words are barely audible.
“Pleasure chatting with you, sweet thing. I insist that we must have tea sometime.” She snaps her fingers at Chance, and I watch them disappear from my view.
I’m so focused on what she said that I didn’t feel Hunter’s hand free my head.
“Baby, are you okay?”
Tilting my head up a little, I peer into concerned blue eyes that remind me of the sea. I didn’t notice him kneeling too. “Is it true?” I whisper, feeling shaky.
He screws his eyes shut as if pained. “Yes.”
“Why?” My tone is still hushed, salt from my tears drips into my mouth.
Hunter eyelids flutter open, gazing steadily and somberly into mine. “She’s evil, Isabel. At the time I thought I deserved that.” He shrugs, inhaling deeply. “Karma, I guess.”
“You didn’t deserve that, Hunter. No one does. She needs help. Any woman would be so very lucky to be the mother of your child.”
He wipes my tears with his thumbs and then presses his flat palm against my stomach. He stares at me with wide, hazy eyes. “Even you?”
My breath catches in my throat, then his hand on my belly feel like scorching iron.
Me… a mother?
That forbidden thought is quite laughable.
I’m a mess and way too young to be a mother right now.
“I would love to have your babies…sometime in the future. Maybe ten years from now. I don’t know, Hunter. I don’t even know what I’m say—”
Hunter crushes his mouth down on mine, knocking me down to the floor. My back slams against the cold tile. “This is going to be fast, baby. I can’t guarantee that I’m going to be gentle with all the shit running through my head right now.”
“Fast, rough. Yes,” I pant throughout kisses.
“Turn around,” he growls.
Breathlessly and trembling, I flip on my stomach. Hunter’s fingers trail up the backs of my thighs, bringing up the hem of his shirt. He makes a deep gravelly noise in the back of his throat, then smacks me hard on my ass, biting along the aching spot.
Pure Illusion (Web Of Deception #1) Page 23
