by Lexie Ray
Hunter’s voice, which had grown thin and trembling, burst out into stuttering sobs. She freed her hand from Ash’s to cover her mouth, trying desperately to silence the wails of anguish from pouring out.
The fragments of her words, the images they carried were bone chilling. Ash had to admit that very little of what she had said made sense. However, it didn’t matter. He knew exactly what she was talking about. He didn’t need the pieces from her end to fit into his own, to understand.
He scooped his arm under Hunter’s neck and pulled her in close to him, wrapping her up in his strong embrace.
Hunter’s tearstained cheeks pressed against his warm chest. It felt so good to be held. She felt cared for. There was something dominating and commanding about Ash. He had a way of taking charge, and always seemed to know what to do, which made Hunter feel safe and cared for. She felt like she was in good hands.
She discovered her tears had ceased, though she was whimpering, trembling, still reeling from the outpouring of dark emotions that had sprung forth. Eventually she quieted. Had any of what she had said made sense to him? Maybe it didn’t need to. What would the details matter really? It’s not like he would be able to go back in time and save her. It’s not like anything she had survived up in New Hampshire, any information that might be stored in the corridors of her memory, could help them. Anything she had said to Ash had served only to relieve the anxiety, the pressure that had built up inside her. It didn’t matter that it had been gibberish.
Hunter’s hand migrated slowly down Ash’s chest, then rounded up over his side until it rested on the middle of his back. She liked holding him close. She felt his back rise and fall with each breath he took. It felt good to be this close to something alive. It helped her to remember that she was alive as well. She was living. She had survived. That was not to be taken for granted.
His body felt warm and inviting. He probably thought she was some kind of mess, nothing but issues and baggage. Assuming that, and reminding herself that a guy like this would probably never really want a girl like her, were the only things preventing Hunter from exploring his body further. He was so sexy, and the way he was holding her, the way he had accepted her embrace and reciprocated it, felt amazing. After all he had done for her that night, she wanted to give herself to Ash. But the possibility of rejection was overwhelming. Hunter didn’t dare make a move.
Then she felt Ash’s hand lowering down until it found the curve at the small of her back. He pulled her in, pressing her body against his. Her lips pursed reflexively against his neck. She wanted more. She hoped he would take the initiate, giving her permission to touch him.
Hunter could sense the outline of his legs, his bulge where his left leg met the right. He pressed into her in perfect alignment, guiding her legs to spread open. He was still wearing his briefs, and she had her skirt on as well, but could feel him, unquestionably straining against her.
She wanted to lift her face. She wanted to offer her mouth to him to see if he might claim her lips with his own. Ash pressed his hips towards her, holding her firmly in place against him. His grip was tight, hungry. She could hear his breathing increase, the rise and fall of his chest growing more pronounced. Hunter knew he was aroused, growing hard.
Finally, she lifted her face and met eyes with Ash.
His gaze was deep, penetrating through the darkness. The way the corners of his eyes angled up alluded to something playful, slightly naughty. It was as though he wanted something from her, but was only asking with his eyes, his smoldering gaze. Hunter found herself breathing heavily, longing for him to press his lips against hers. His eyes moved quickly over her face, studying her soft features, the lines of her face, the sharp angles of her cheekbones. She knew how thin she must look. For months she had been too nervous to eat properly, too poor to buy a decent meal. She tried not to think about that.
“How did you know to save me, Ash?” she whispered. “How did you know I was over there? How did you know a man was in my apartment?”
“I think I have a sort of sixth sense for danger, or for darkness. I can tell when something isn’t right. I can feel evil. I can feel it when I’m in the presence of someone with cruel intentions. I was raised by the most horrendous men,” said Ash. Now it was his turn to speak in riddles, mysteriously vague and impossible to follow. “I feel like it gave me the ability to read people’s moods. I knew even before my father would get home whether or not he was furious, whether or not he had it in him to beat me raw.”
He paused for a moment to take a breath. The sun was rising in the sky beyond the window. The apartment had brightened, though most of Hunter still remained covered in shadows.
He couldn’t tell if any of what he said was making sense to her. He had always assumed that people who grew up in homes where a wealth of violence took place had different ways of seeing the world, different ways of relating to people and getting a read on their surroundings. But judging by Hunter’s silence, he wasn’t sure if he had been making any sense, or if he sounded crazy.
“So you sensed I was in trouble?” she asked.
“Basically, yeah,” he said.
Hunter recalled how conveniently his armchair had been angled towards the window, how its position had aided in seeing directly across to her fire escape. Had he seen the danger coming far in advance, similar to how he had described his father driving home? Or was he lying? Was he avoiding telling her the entire truth? And if he was, then why? Whatever the reason, whatever he was holding back, in that moment Hunter resolved that she would find out soon enough. He was obviously here to stay, here to help. Clearly he wanted to keep her safe. It would only be a matter of time before she knew everything. The details of his family, the real reason he began killing, and how he found ways to get that kind of work now. Hunter would discover everything, and she couldn’t wait. Though it made her nervous, distrustful, and cautious, deep down Hunter knew he had the life she wanted. And Hunter was starting to feel that she would want that life not only for herself, but with Ash specifically.
Ash was starting to worry that her interest in him and his history was overshadowing her attraction to him. That wasn’t what he wanted, not right now at least.
“And that man had been casing your place for weeks,” he added. “I’m surprised you never noticed. I started getting a bad feeling about him days ago. I’ve been watching you closely ever since. Him as well. In a lot of ways, I was prepared and planning on the possibility that a night like tonight would take place.”
The light must have changed in the apartment. The sun must have shifted because she could see Ash’s face completely free of shadows, all the features, the texture of his skin. He was no longer in silhouette. She gazed up at his lips. She had never been more comfortable than she was in his arms. She raised her gaze to meet his, and stared deeply into his steel blue eyes.
He leaned in, his eyes gently closing as he did so, and gently pressed his smooth lips against Hunter’s, kissing her. She yielded, hungry for the caress of his lips against hers, eager to feel his soft tongue explore the curves of her desiring mouth.
It took Hunter’s breath away. Ash’s lips were absolutely exquisite. The way he brushed them over hers, sliding smoothly across her upper lip, then lower, sent waves of warmth rippling through her. He seemed to breath her in with the ebb and flow of each kiss. She had never felt so desired, so at home, at peace, content, as she did in Ash’s arms, melting into his tender kisses.
He held her tightly still, though his large hands rubbed up the length of her back, relaxing every inch of her. He then ran his hands down the length of her, pulling her even closer. Hunter brushed her fingertips down the side of his face, over the gentle arch of his cheekbone until her index finger rounded the curve of his jawline in a slow smooth caress.
His lips tasted salty, with a hint of cigarettes, a lingering flavor that reminded Hunter of life on the streets. He tasted rugged and masculine. A total bad boy. Yet she knew he wasn’t, not really.
He was her protector, and it turned her on to no end.
He could tell she wanted more, and so did he. Ash wanted to roll on top of her. He wanted to pull her skirt down, and have all of her, sinking his hips between hers, claiming his place inside her.
But they had a lot to figure out. And they needed to be well rested to deal with whatever attacks might be coming their way. They needed to sleep, to stay sharp, to be prepared.
“Hunter, we have to get some sleep,” he whispered after freeing his lips from hers. “It’s so important. Can you close your eyes for me and find sleep?”
Hunter exhaled, sinking into his arms, and nodded her head. She was tired anyway. Her eyelids would barely stay open on their own.
She let Ash roll her over to her other side so he could cradle her tightly from behind. She felt safe and warm, and eventually sleep wound around her gently in a downward spiral towards the peaceful recesses of deep rest.
For a long while Ash lay awake holding Hunter in his protective grasp.
If only she knew why he was really here. Would she love him? Or would hate fill her heart?
Chapter Five
By the time Hunter woke up the apartment was flooded in daylight. It was so bright she had to squint, slowly allowing the brightness into her eyes in order to glance around the room. The white walls were glaring, so she pinched her eyes closed for a moment, getting her bearings.
Her walls were normally dull yellow, not white, and she had pictures and photos placed sporadically around the studio. Something wasn’t right.
Then it all came flooding back, the long night with Ash, showering in his apartment, falling asleep in his arms. She must be really groggy. She needed to shake off the sleep.
At least she had slept well. She felt rested. Whatever exhaustion had accumulated inside of her over the months felt completely gone.
She rolled over onto her back, curious if Ash was still there. He was. She face the length of his bare back, glanced along the slight curve where his waist met his hips, a spot so sexy it begged to be touched. She reached out, placing her palm flat against the surface of his body, feeling the warmth. She didn’t want to wake him, but couldn’t resist sliding in close, and tracing her fingertips down his arm.
Ash laid there with his eyes awake, savoring Hunter’s soft touch. It was sweet how she was touching him delicately, believing he was still asleep. He wondered what else she might do, but there probably wasn’t time to find out. Ash knew they should get up, regroup, and make a plan.
He needed to connect with Twitch. It had greatly concerned him last night that Hunter had witnessed his little friend get beaten in the alley, and it had concerned him even more when Twitch didn’t responded to any of Ash’s text messages. Twitch hadn’t even answered up his phone. Ash had always told himself not to get personally involved, not everyone would make it, but he was starting to seriously worry about Twitch.
But Hunter’s hands on him were making it difficult to get motivated. She was running her long fingers through his hair, combing back the shaggy strands. It was relaxing, arousing, and Ash liked how his body was stiffening in response, growing hard for her, resuming where they had left off the night before.
He rolled over onto his back, facing her, and before she knew it he was holding her gently at the nape of her neck. His fingers tangled in her hair, his grip strong and commanding, his eyes brooding with darkness, smoldering with desire. The edges of his mouth curled slightly at the corners in a way that drove her wild. He had something on his mind, she could tell based on his expression, and whatever he was thinking, it didn’t reach farther than this bed. It didn’t go beyond her body.
Ash gently guided her face close to his. He brushed his lips across her cheek, breathing in deeply the scent of her skin. Finally, his lips found hers. She was so incredibly soft. Her skin smelled sweet and feminine. It had grown familiar to him. She was starting to feel like his.
Hunter couldn’t help but smile as he lifted her on top of him. The shape of his body beneath her sent a rush of warmth rippling through her core until eventually she began throbbing in heat.
They kissed, nose to nose and lips to lips, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. His body felt hot and hard under her. His chest was straight and smooth, muscular and firm, his legs long and delicious. His boxer-briefs left little to the imagination in terms of his size. Feeling him grow bigger in response to her resting weight on top of him made Hunter wet for his touch.
“You’re beautiful,” he said so quietly it was barely more than an exhale.
She lowered, pressing her lips against his perfect mouth, and kissed him again. They seemed to breathe each other in as their lips moved, gliding over each other’s, exploring the curves of their rhythmic kisses.
Her legs fell open, spreading around his hips, falling to the mattress, resting snuggly on the outside of his legs. Their bodies were aligned in a flawless fit. He felt so good. Hunter began thrusting her hips almost without realizing it. Her body was taking on a mind of its own. It was as though they were created for each other.
His hands ran the length of her back, pressing firmly into her muscles, massaging her into an erotic state. A slight moan escaped her lips. To Ash it was the sweetest sound. He wanted to know what other sounds he could get out of her.
When he drew her back up, lifting her so that Hunter rose straddling him, Ash slid his warm hands under her tee. His fingers clipped her bra.
It crossed Hunter’s mind to take her shirt off, and maybe her bra.
Ash’s hands found their way back down the length of her body, lowering further and further down until they were cupped around her ass. He held her tightly against him, squeezing her ass. Hunter could feel him straining through his jeans, growing hard for her. His bulge was pressing into the aching heat between her legs. He continued squeezing and releasing her ass in a tender, massaging rhythm. The heat was mounting, aching sweetly between her legs. The combination of his lips on hers as he kissed her more and more deeply, and his hands caressing her body was making Hunter feel like she wanted to go with him wherever he was thinking in this moment. He felt too good. He was too sexy. There was no way she could hold back.
She pulled her tee off, lifting up momentarily. Her black bra, the thin lace of the cups, the gradual hardening of her nipples beneath, all amounted to an extremely sexy sight. Ash didn’t want her to move. He liked looking up at her. He held her hips and instinctively she sat up taller, arching her back, pressing her breasts out, rocking her straddling hips more sensuously against him.
Looking up at Hunter, seeing her wild mane of brown hair fall in waves over her shoulders, studying the curves and roundness of her petite breasts through the black lace, tracing the smoothness of her soft stomach with his eyes, made Ash rock hard and throbbing in need for her. He wanted her so badly. He had wanted her ever since he first laid eyes on her. She was a creature unlike any other, and he felt instinctively that she was made for him. She was smoldering. Her gaze was intoxicating. The way she was looking down at him made him hungry. He wanted to lift her, pull her panties aside, and penetrate her. He wanted to watch her expression shift from surprise to pleasure, a reaction he hoped she would enjoy as her body would get used to having him deep within her.
Hunter’s hips began to thrust on their own, almost as if she had no control of the effect he was having on her. She could feel that she was slippery wet for him. The sweet ache between her legs was starting to burn, pulse, throb in need of being filled. It was a fiery heat that only Ash could put out.
All of a sudden, there was a harsh pounding on the apartment door. It startled Hunter, who froze, staring down at Ash with wide eyes confused at who would be outside, knocking on his front door.
“It’s okay,” he whispered as he motioned for her to climb off so he could get up and see who was there.
Hunter found her tee and quickly pulled it over her head. Then she scurried to the far side of the studio and put her heels on. She had left her gun in t
he alcove where the milk crate met the radiator, so with a few quick paces she reclaimed the weapon, tucking it back into her purse and slinging the bag, across her body and over her shoulder. Her heart was racing. She couldn’t believe Ash hadn’t collected himself in the same manner.
He stood barefoot and in his boxer-briefs in front of his door, face pressed against the peephole. Again, the person on the other side pounded loudly, three harsh bangs. Hunter couldn’t see much from her vantage point in the studio space behind Ash, but she kept her hand on her gun anyway.
Ash glanced over his shoulder at her. She couldn’t quite read his expression, but he didn’t seem alarmed. She trusted he would dole out fast and decisive instructions if they were in danger, but he did nothing of the sort. Instead, he unlocked the door, deadbolt and doorknob, with a series of speedy flips and turns, then pulled the steel door open.
A short man, a kid in fact, fell towards Ash, spilling into the apartment. The kid was unsteady on his feet. He moved with drunken sorts of motions, but after a few seconds of observing him, Hunter realized the kid wasn’t drunk. His left eye was nearly swollen shut, black with bruises. There was blood crusted to the side of his face. His head, which was partially shaved down one side in a punk mohawk, had a deep laceration where short hair met long.
Ash shut the door behind the kid and locked up before anyone said a word. When he turned back, he guided Twitch to the armchair and sat him down. His friend looked as though he had been walking all night. He looked completely drained, exhausted, and Ash noticed after a long moment of staring down at Twitch that the kid smelled briny and sour. His clothes were damp. The jeans he was wearing seemed to be stiff with water.
